It looks like I may have laid these captions over the photo with some editing software but that’s not the case. Instead these were hanging above Briggate, in Leeds, because someone had clearly decided that positive-sounding, but actually meaningless, exhortations to solidarity are just what the country needs to get us through this time of incompetency.
I am in Oxford to consult an archive of material relevant to St. Helena, collected by the late Trevor Hearl, who, it appears, knew absolutely everything there was to know about the island — and as you see here, was prepared to offer his opinions to civil servants on their ‘Efficiency Reports’.
After the expanded horizons of yesterday, it was back to work today. I could have posted a pic demonstrating that I am a Pinball Wizard (all-time high score on the pub machine) but that would just have been me showing off, so let’s try to make out that I was engaged in some gainful employment. Whether the message on the pen is a metaphor or not, that’s up to you to determine.
Communicating by carving a message into a tree is known as ‘blazing’ — something I only found out immediately before posting this, thanks to the ever-fascinating Wikipedia. The most famous blazed tree is probably one in Queensland, where a message was left in 1861 for a party of explorers that was never found. I doubt this one, on the path from Hebden Bridge to Mytholmroyd, is as significant in historical terms, but obviously it meant something to someone at the time. And, thanks to this post, to me too, here and now.
From Wednesday this week I am off work for the rest of the month. But until that day is reached, I am like this pen. Just about still functioning but there’s very little left in the tank.
Dull photo, but it was a dull day as everyone waited for Storm Dennis to see whether it felt like adding to the misery. But it did not.
This blog is really just an outgrowth of the personal diary I have kept every day since the start of 1984. I raided the archive today, and here are a bunch of the thirty or so volumes of my other auto-chronicle. Is there a word for this urge to record things? Whatever the name of the condition, I have it.
It’s a long period at home — 10 of the 15 shots so far in 2015 have been taken in Hebden Bridge. Though things liven up again come early February, there is no change to come in the next fortnight. So I have to find my creativity where I can, by leeching on the work of others.
Another effort today by the Whitworth family to sell various forms of artwork (home-made and otherwise) to a mildly interested public. Better than three weeks ago: we made a reasonable amount for two hours’ work.
This blog is now 100 days old so I’ve put some more photos up on the ‘Best of the Rest’ page. Of the 100 photos I’ve used here are some stats – the numbers don’t quite add up because sometimes I’ve just had to classify them in more than one category:
Being 42 