Urban after rain

 

Valentine

 

Spring will come

 

The soda was mine

 

Evening at the pub, for the stand-up comedy where we agree on Peter Brush and Raymond & Mr Timpkins.

My coppicing is painful for both of us

 

Portrait challenge

 

I find this the most difficult challenge set so far by the Photography Group. Fortunately, my portrait partner is funny, helpful, patient, and forgiving.

Not seeking work as an Arborist

 

Feel sorry for the trees in this garden. We have six or seven small trees depending how you count them, and the fact that some of these should not be trees at all. 

What they represent is maturity. I can't buy that at the garden centre, so I let these wandering beasts be. Part of me loves their spirited wandering; they do as they please. 

But I know this is not management. I leave these wild things for years, until one starts leaning perilously towards a garden gate, and within a few months I can't open the gate. 

Today, it's a choice between tree or gate. My only defence is that I waited until winter, when it would be asleep.

 

For Hall, read Tardis

I work on this Victorian house, bit by bit. In one wriggle way, there is a tiny hallway, leading to an office and living room. It's so tiny, it's like a cupboard. With three doors, plus some more cupboards.

I decided it would be interesting as a Time-travelling tardis, so I'm setting about this, slowly.

Today I rehung the cupboard-under-the-stairs-door (taken off in 2015, don't ask why). Note the junior chisel set on the floor! And the Morris Wallpaper sample on the back of main fire door! (I'll hang the wallpaper after I've sorted the beading and attacked the doorframe.)

 

And here's my Tardis on reverse. (Fairy lights, obviously, because I can't fit in real stars.) 

Black, white, greys

 

 

Now, I am lured by black, white, grey, and the charms of urban night photography. 

 

Thanks to jetblacksquares. I've learned to reduce the exposure. Blocks, patterns, geometries. Everything strips back to bleaker, harsher, colder. A perfect mix for the solitary walk back through town to the distant car park on the edge.

 

 

Remember the film, Escape from New York?

Visited a local town for an evening event. I cannot say the experience was delightful. More, it confirmed all my intent never to return. 

The landscape of this particular town is bleak. Imagine how they have flattened everywhere to create 6-lane highways, endless quantities of Lidl and Wren Kitchen outlets, and a defunct gas works. 

Once inside Town X, I avoided a car accident by a whisper and the quick judgement of the other driver. As in, you get 2 yards to switch lanes, despite previous signs assuring you of straight-on-and-right-turn, now it isn't. Stay put, and enjoy a one-way routing, one more time. (Or switch, and test the reactions of the driver behind.)

The usual car park was shut due to building works. Necessitating the NCP and a 20-minute walk. Not too bad, I thought, as I could get my exercise steps. 

The dark alleyways to avoid the no-pavement route of the A-road were going okay. Until I realised the horror of an unlit underpass. Which was also flooded.

Fortunately, a kind soul had hauled concrete blocks to use as stepping stones across the lake. Unfortunately, the kind soul was possibly the same local drug lord, holding court, by use of a head-torch, behind a brick pier half-way along. For a brief moment, when the whispering stopped and the staring started, it crossed my mind I might be shot.

Eventually, after crossing the building site safely thanks to my phone light, I arrived at the venue. To find the main doors locked. Like, how are you supposed to enter a public event (albeit in the middle of a building site) when they lock the fecking doors? 

Someone let me in after I banged on a window.

The event passed peacefully, with only a small amount of shame and despair on my part.

On the way back to the NCP through the late-night deserted streets and pelting rain, a gentleman of the night, possibly tired and emotional, threw a water bottle at me and assaulted me with a tirade of abuse for, I don't know, walking. On the plus side, I managed the remainder of my daily 10,000 steps at a considerably quicker pace than when I began.

Here's a photo of the ceiling at the venue. Regulars may recognise it. For those who don't know where it is, I will never name it. Suffice to say, Mark Steel has not yet ventured. 

 

 

London, Puddle

 

Never thought possible

 

Get me! I watch a darts match! More than one, probably, but don't test me. I'm learning. This is called, 'Going round someone's house because they promise dinner in exchange for me watching the darts'.

Glitter girl

 

Try that again

This winter I made a conscious decision to cook. 

Moving from a household of partner and three offspring - where cooking is daily continuous - to a household consisting of me and my shadow - where cooking is weekly optional - is a mixed experience. 

A fried egg sandwich, tomato sauce, a tin of mackerel, slice of toast, separate or together, who's to please but me? I love it! 

But sometimes, I miss the hazard of cooking for others. The perils of adding extra cumin. Last minute dollops of creme fraiche to celebrate or regret. Basil and chilli in dangerous amounts. Confessing to the table what's really in the pan.

Today, an opportunity to cook rice pudding in the slow cooker. I don't think I've ever done it. Turns out beautifully. In honour of someone else, nostalgia propelled me to add whisky to the oats and Marsala to the fruit. Enjoy!

 

Imagine

Spending time at the studio, stitching my Knicker Drawer Note Books (memory books, journals, dirty diaries, books for playtimes, characters, made for themes, moods, crafty creatives etc etc), all in prep for Valentine's Day. 

A day I always honour. Single, separated, divorced, dead, married, not important, doesn't matter. 

We simply should each have a day, somewhere in the year, to put the horror to one side, and play.

 

Smartphone Photography

 

Here I am, trying to figure out how to use an old DSLR camera. It's like a maze for me, with its six lenses, multiple settings, and my increasing awareness I'll die in a few years. Maybe I don't have enough time to begin that career called Photographer, when I already had non-starting and failed careers in Nursing, Law, Communications and Dithering About.

 

Then along comes Jeanette of jetblacksquares and my life is given new purpose! I mean, I'll still carry on wrangling the DSLR. Remembering what's what keeps my brain alive. But blimey, I didn't realise I actually have a pretty powerful camera ...that sometimes makes phone calls.

Rat-run-work-home

 

Just another 1970s building

 

At someone's lovely 1970s apartment. It's filled with detailed design from the decade, and it's a joy. Pioneering architecture of a decade that - the further we move away - needs protecting more, not less.

For example, it has a small fire escape from the back of the bathroom to avoid the front door should a fire impede main access. How carefully thought-out is that? It's amazing!

But then I hear power tools in the stairwells, boots on steps, and voices of purpose. Here it is, this super crawl escape, being blocked up. It's the law. Nothing to do with us. Present-day fire regulations say this little curiosity, reflecting the fears and strategies of a different age, must not exist. 

These lovely apartments are not likely to merit the courts for the Twentieth Century Society. And there's no protest stump on which to chain myself. It's just another ordinary building.

 

How desire paths grow

 

New tellings

 

Each year, there's a Bard elected here. I'm sure, in recent years, I recall stories of love and warm humour, mischief and tease. Stories for big arms, wrapped around the neighbourhood. 

These are different times. Bleaker, angrier, stories of betrayal and resentments, rough justice and pain. The times we live through. 

No Photo

 

Just a day to enjoy some imagination.

Outside appearance

 

The unprepossessing entrance to the pub in a nearby village. It's the Photography Club social. Where I discover -ta-dah!- I'm runner up! To the Photo of the Year competition! (Taken January 2025, you choose.)

Comfort food

Lentil stew! Onion, carrot, celery, potato, plus roots and greens skulking in the fridge. And red lentils. Plus Marigold Boullion Original.*

*Not receiving payment for the most splendid of stock powders. Although if they would like to send a couple of kilos, fine by me.

Achievement of the Day

 

Two straight morning hours in the garden, starting The Great Winter Progress. 

Sunshine, 8C degrees, beating heart, full bin, perfect. 

Very lentamente

 

Sto imparando l'italiano, lentamente. 

Iere, Mnc - lei è una buona amica - ha cucinato il risotto nella mia cucina. È stato fantastico! Ha vissuto in Italia per due decenni! Parliamo italiano. Io, lentamente. (E male.)

Oggi è il mio turno con un libro.

Misty walking

 

And I had fun, playing with my phone camera settings.

On the minus side, when I hang around at the back, staring intently at my phone, it looks like I'm an irredeemable addict. Tsk. Youth of today. 

Love the little things in life

Down the local tip today, dumping rubbish from the studios. Stuff I can't sell or give away, like floor sweepings, smashed plastic crates, and rotted wood.

I'm carting it around when one of staff - someone I can't see despite the flourescent orange - bellows across the bins. Oi! You! His voice soars over the domestic appliance skip, lifts above the Christmas trees, and bounces off the stinking carpet. If you put cardboard in the metal bin again I'll slash your tyres! The figure heading to the metal bin freezes before changing course, due south. 

 How I live for moments like this.

Secret maps and Gesualdo

 

I got into the Secret Maps exhibition at the British Library! Ordinarily I wander in on a whim, but today the entrance queue was round the shop. It was a full-to-capacity, one-in, one-out.

Amongst the crowds I did manage to snap one of my favourite maps - Glebe, Number 6, Smallburgh, Norfolk. Dated 1582.

Also, the exhibition closes in 24 hours, which might account for the queue.

Quick walk next to St Martins through Luvverly London...

 

For Death of Gesualdo, 'a theatrical concert fusing music, puppetry, and tableau vivant'. Fantastic! I am reminded to put St Martins back on my Things-to-do-in-London list.

And more out-of-focus photography...

 

Having a Laff in the pub

Local pub and stand up comedy performances by Tadiwa Mahlunge, Ben Ashurst, Kate Robb and Terry Alderton, with an excellent MC. Phew, we all need laughter. x

Opera at the cinema

Fictions and truths; humans concealed and revealed. 

That's the way to go

 

The last few weeks have been challenging. But today I decided to do things I love! Like walking in the rain. What could be better? (Maybe I'm variety outdoors British.) I love the constant scattering of raindrops and cold wind on my face - bright and breezy, I'm alive! I have no need of a brolly. It wasn't up to the job anyway, so I photographed it as it fled the scene.

Pub quiz night

I answered one question confidently. (Answer: Henry V.) Here's a snap of the pub roof.

Woods, canal, sandy heath

Morning winter walk, Ramblers.

Breakfast at Bettys, York

Science is safe with us

Master of Science joins the ranks. X

Barnsley x