This week’s photograph was taken a few weeks ago on our way back from Norwich. We ran into heavy rain as we neared London. Being in the passenger seat I took the opportunity to capture the moment.
Saturday was the Anthony Powell Society quarterly London Pub Meet at the Audley in Mount Street, just off Park Lane. Although attended by fewer than usual we had a jolly time with the some fun and eclectic discussion accompanied by a few beers and some food. And it is the food which brings this week’s photograph for we discovered one of our number about to demolish his, rather dilapidated, chapeau.
Another from the archives this week. I’m horrified at how long it is since we were in Axmouth, Devon. This is a shot of their delightful churchyard, just across the Axe estuary from Seaton. And I remember having some gorgeous Dover Sole for lunch in the pub.
This week’s photograph is another from our recent trip to Norwich. Somehow that day we were running slightly ahead of schedule and we had 20 minutes to kill before Sunday lunch. So in true style we set off to find Bawburgh village church.
Another in my occasional series documenting some of the underbelly of Britain. Britain which we wouldn’t like visitors to see and which we wish wasn’t there. The trash, abused, decaying, destitute and otherwise buggered parts of our environment. Those parts which symbolise the current economic malaise; parts which, were the country flourishing, wouldn’t be there, would be better cared for, or made less inconvenient.
This is the junction Elder Street with Commercial Street, E1, just north of Spitalfields Market.
This week’s photograph is special. Because yesterday was my mother’s 99th birthday, which makes her the oldest person I know about in the family for some 300 years.
Of course we went to see her. She lives in a really excellent care home just south of Norwich, in a tiny village in the middle of the country. Amazingly she is all there mentally; just very frail and almost totally deaf. What is even better is that she is still doing things: reading, doing little watercolour paintings of flowers, knitting, making soft toys, and watching the occasional bit of television. She is always up to try new things: someone has given her several pieces of board for watercolour painting; and we bought her a needle-felting kit because it is something I think she’s never done — and there’s a good chance she’ll love it. OK her hand isn’t as steady and accurate as it used to be but she still enjoys painting all her own greetings cards!
This week another from the archives … A winter sunrise taken from my study window, and then doctored!
Time, this week, for another round of pussy porn yawn.
Not a great shot, but at times like this it is a question of shoot and hope. AS you’ll all guess this was Tilly mid-sunbathe on the study windowsill.
Another in my occasional series documenting some of the underbelly of Britain. Britain which we wouldn’t like visitors to see and which we wish wasn’t there. The trash, abused, decaying, destitute and otherwise buggered parts of our environment. Those parts which symbolise the current economic malaise; parts which, were the country flourishing, wouldn’t be there, would be better cared for, or made less inconvenient.
This is the walkway to the offices of one of our local solicitors! (Yes I was sitting in the safety of the car.)
This week’s photograph is one I took earlier in the summer. One? Well no actually it is four images because this is a montage of some excellent mosses growing on the top of a headstone at Churchill, Oxfordshire (just outside Chipping Norton) and from where I have ancestors in the 18th century.
