Teh internets

A couple of years ago, Pheebs posted a picture on teh internets - I think it was on tumblr - which we watched go viral. To date the picture she posted has over 200,000 likes (or whatever the tumblr equivalent is). This astonished us. 

I share my pictures on Facebook and flickr, and have never had a sniff of a viral. I suspect the rule of teh internets is that it can smell an attempt to go viral and does something to stymie it. 

On Thursday I posted a few pictures of a jazz musician I'd been to see the previous night. You saw some of them on my blog. Over the last 24 hours something weird has happened and my phone has been binging away like a mad thing. Every time someone "favourites" an image, or makes a comment I get a notification. 

This image:

is on my flickr page, and I shared it in a Leica group I'm a member of, and it has so far attracted a little over 4,000 views, and 138 "favourites".  You can see how the growth in the interest is almost exponential. I'll let you know how things go from here.

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Today Gel was delivering one of her "Life Planning for the Over Fifties" courses up at the Guild with her friend Annette. I decided to have a photographic outing, and I fancied taking in a seaside town in the off-season. So I headed up the M6/M55 to Blackpool. The day started with glorious clear skies, but as I got closer to my destination, the clouds gathered, and the wind rose. By the time I got there it was foul. Worse than foul, actually. By the end of my visit I was cold and had been soaked by a wave breaking over the prom. I haven't had a chance to edit any of these beyond a cursory crop and contrast boost.

Central Pier with North Pier in the background.

Blackpool Tower

North Pier detail.

The tide came in and wind strengthened, churning the sea.

Some optimistic fishermen. Any fish that close to the shore were more likely to be bludgeoned against the prom, rather then caught on a hook.

Trying to be Saul Leiter (ha!).

Albert, the Sally Army man. Came from Belfast in 1951. Still has the accent, so he does.

As you can see, things were getting pretty wild just before I set off for home.

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Since I started writing this blog, the image has attracted 150 more views and a couple more "favourites".

Hep Cats

Last night I was invited by my friend Chris to join him in seeing the Scottish saxophonist Tommy Smith. He was appearing, along with pianist Brian Kellock, at the Cinnamon Club in Hale. This is a strange little place. As we were grooving to some mellow modern jazz, we could hear the thump of the bass from the dancing class below.

I've never been in daylight (my only other experience of the venue was a pair of photographers who specialised in jazz musicians, which was also at night). It's a large building which looks like it might have started life as a dance hall, or village hall of some sort (quite a substantial one). There is a sizeable space downstairs with a dancefloor and stage, and upstairs (where we were last night) is the more intimate 'lounge'.

A small bar area, next to a dancefloor cum performance space which last night had a number of round 'bistro' tables and chairs, with a grand piano, and stool for Tommy Smith to the side, rather than at the end of the rectangular space.

I had contacted the venue on a couple of occasions to ask if it was ok for me to take photos (you don't think I'd miss out of the chance to take pictures, do you?). I only actually spoke to someone once and she didn't really know, and suggested I ask the performers. Which I did. I took along a couple of cameras and Tommy Smith was very happy that I did as long as I didn't get in anyone's way. Fair enough.

It being a small intimate venue, the lighting was pish so really had to open up the aperture and push the ISO. I used two cameras, my Leica Monochrom (with a 50mm f2 and a 35mm f2) and my Fuji X-T1 (with 56mm f1.2). The Leica is wonderful, and the 50mm lens is too, but I found getting the focus spot on wide open at f2 was a challenge. The autofocus on the Fuji was much better for conditions, even at F1.2. In both cases I took some test shots to work out what the best settings would be, and then worked in manual mode. With little light, and some of the compositions I knew I wanted to try it was much the best way. I was pretty certain the lighting conditions would change would be fairly constant. I only blew highlights on a couple of occasions.

If you don't like modern jazz, then look away now. The music was sublime. What surprised me was how much spit is involved in playing the sax. I really quite liked the bit where Tommy leaned over the piano and played 'onto' the strings making the whole piano vibrate.

Here are a few of the pics I took last night.

As you can see from this final shot, the walls of the lounge are adorned with pictures of jazz musicians. I tried to avoid getting them in most of my shots as they are a bit distracting, but I quite like the context they give this picture. Perhaps I could offer one of my images to join the others on the wall....

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Yesterday I made tiffin, but I omitted to take pictures. But I can report that it is scrummy.

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Twin Sized Mattress

A couple of Sundays ago, Pheebs went into Manchester with her friend Rachael to "do a bit of filming". I must admit I wasn't entirely sure what this meant, but now I do. Rachael is doing Media at college and had to produce a music video for an existing piece of music. She chose Twin Sized Mattress by New Jersey band The Front Bottoms. Pheebs is the star of the video, filmed mostly around the Northern Quarter in Manchester. If you click on the title of this section of the blog you can view the video.

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Fair warning: On Sunday I am being whisked away for a sophisticated night at a luxury hotel, and I think it is fair to say that I will not have my mind on producing a blog. So Sunday, and potentially Monday too, may be blog free. I'm not obsessive you know...  :0)

Idiots

Without wanting to tempt fate, my regular morning rides pass without incident. Sure I get people who misjudge how much space to give me when they overtake, but even with a few close calls I haven't yet been clipped. 

This morning an idiot decided to overtake me just as we approached a mini-roundabout. This caused me no danger at all, but the people coming off the roundabout towards us weren't quite as happy and horns were deployed. Tootage occurred. The driver of the 4x4 (I think it was a BMW) then proceeded to hurtle round the mini roundabout even though an articulated lorry had already entered it. More tootage, more shaking heads.

I did witness another close call on the road out of Knutsford. I can only assume these people hadn't seen the signs deployed at the head of the Alderley by-pass.

It was very mild again this morning. My snood was probably not really required. 

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Hat of the Day

The return of the ever popular featurette.

Today's hat is from Denver Colorado, and was bought when I went to see the Colorado Rockies at their home in Coors Field. They are in the NL West and came into being in 1993 at the same time as the Florida Marlins. Denver quickly gained a reputation as a hitters park, and this was attributed to the thin air. Denver is a "mile high". The thin air meant that hit balls travelled faster and further (good for batters), and the thin air also meant that pitchers struggled to get the same amount of movement they got at lower altitudes. (also good for batters).

In 2007 the team reached the World Series, only to be swept (to lose 4-0 in a best of seven series) to Boston.

The coat I am wearing also has a history. It's not a very good picture of it, but it's a stout leather jacket/coat that I bought from the Army and Navy Stores on Bleecker Street in Greenwich Village in about 1995. We were there in early September, and because the coat was so heavy, it wouldn't fit in our luggage so I had to wear it, and as many of you may know, September in NY can be rather warm. It's lasted pretty well. Better than the shop which has succumbed to the gentrification which has changed the Village, as we found this summer.

The scarf was bought in Paris in the area near Sacre Coeur, during a visit for Gel's special birthday. See how cleverly I matched the purple in the hat with the scarf (to be honest I only just noticed that).  

My boxers are by M&S (isn't everyone's?).

Behind me is our local Aston Martin dealership. I always though it told you a lot about Wilmslow that a) we had an Aston Martin dealership, and b) it was across the road from the Aga shop.

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Yesterday, in a rather cursory blog, I referred to the fact that the kittens had been to the vet for their boosters. They were very well behaved and enchanted the vet. They found the journey there and back a little weird (not having been out under their own steam) and there were a few pitiful mews. But when we got back to the house, they were relaxed and came for a fuss with me.

There. They don't look unduly traumatised, do they?

Good Cats

The cats today had to go to the vets for their boosters. They were very well behaved, and the vet pronounced them healthy and cute. Which, of course, they are.

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I then wandered around the lake near Newgate and took a few very indifferent pictures. Here's one the few which weren't too appalling.

Not wearing my glasses when I'm out and about means that every one of the pictures I take look like masterpieces when I review them on the back of the camera.....

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At photo club we had a local (Leek) pro photographer showing us his stuff. Jon Cruttenden has a stall at the monthly artisan market here in Wilmslow. He was very good. Showed us some nice images, with a nice level of technical detail, and some interesting stories to back them up.

Wet and windy

...and the weather isn't much better either!!

"Ahem"
What?
"You've done that joke before"
Oh
"And it wasn't that funny then either"

So that was my ride this morning. While it didn't tip it down at any point, there was precipitation of some sort all the way round. This I don't mind since I'm only ending up at home anyway. It was clear that there had been a fair amount of rain overnight as there was considerable amount of standing water at the roadside. Felt quite strong on the way round, but was glad to get home to a nice warm shower.

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When I got home there was one of those most wonderful things, a box containing a new (2nd hand) lens had arrived. It's a lovely f2 50mm lens, and I now need to sell my existing f2.5 50mm lens. I did fancy going out and giving it a run, but the weather has been atrocious. Itchy shutter finger.....

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This afternoon I was invited out for a coffee with some of the ladies from the photo club. They have been really welcoming to me since I started my treatment, and their support and friendship is very much appreciated.

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Tired

"A bore is a man who, when you ask him how he is, tells you"

Over the last few weeks of this blog I have occasionally given you a sense of how I feel. The thrust of the comments has been around the impact of steroids, and the chemo which I have every three weeks.

What I've glossed over a little is the tiredness. The tiredeness is relentless. I struggle to sleep at night properly because when I get comfy I can become overwhelmed with a hot flush which wakes me up, so I end up with a very disturbed night. This can be made worse if I don't go to sleep properly. If I don't go off fairly quickly after settling down, then I can be awake for hours.

I think this tiredness can make me difficult to live with.

So, if you ask me how I am, and I say"fine", you take that to mean "fine, but a bit knackered".

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How many of you knew that once upon a time I used to smoke? Not very seriously, in that I never smoked at work or at home or in the car, but put a pint of beer in my hand and the natural balance was a cigarette in the other.

Yes, I know they are bad for you, but when I started I thought it made me look big and grown up and clever......yeah, I know. When I started drinking out less I started to smoke less. Perhaps intensely for an evening once in a while, but overall the number of fags dropped off.

Now when I look back on that time, I can't believe how stupid I was. And that reflection is all the more stark as fewer and fewer people smoke because of the smoking ban in public places. I remember the shock of going into a restaurant in Barcelona a few years ago to be presented with a cigarette induced fug.

I am in favour of the ban. It's an unhealthy habit, and fairly revolting for non-smokers. But having come late to photography, I do have a romantic idea of smoke filled rooms. A single spotlight picking out a musician, or a lone drinker at a table in a pub. All the smokers now have to go outside, where the smoke dissippates quickly, so these opportunities I yearn for don't really exist anymore.

So we were having a coffee on Saturday at a table by the window when these two guys sat directly outside. It was a lovely sunny, if cold, morning, and so there was really only one reason for them to be there.

There was a window sill in the way blocking my view, but it didn't stop me taking a few shots of one of the men smoking and I really liked the smoke was backlit. Nothing stunning, but it perhaps illustrates how I'll take pictures of anything.

I even changed my lens to get the shots, which tells you that even on a Saturday morning stroll around the shops, I carry my camera and a selection of lenses with me. #obsessive

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Recently I have been looking forward to Monday's more and more. Why? Because Monday is when we get the latest episode of "Fargo" (which is utterly wonderful) and for the last two weeks "London Spy" with Ben Wishaw (I feel a new man crush coming on) and Jim Broadbent.

When they first season of Fargo aired last year I was apprehensive. Would the understated weirdness of the original film be maintained. I wasn't disappointed. Billy-Bob Thornton was wonderful as the hitman, and I even came to love Martin Freeman (I was worried about his casting, but it worked). The whole thing worked to the extent that I want to visit those vast icy plains of Minnesota and North Dakota. Season 2 takes us back to 1979 and isn't simply dependent on a romantic memory of the first series. It maintains the weirdness but in a context of the story, and not just weirdness for weirdness sake.

"London Spy" is not set in Minnesota, nor in 1979. I am a sucker for spy stories, so anything with Spy in the title will attract my attention. It isn't however, your usual spy fare, and I won't go into any plot detail in case you are tempted to pick this up on iPlayer. All I'd say is that is also a bit weird but again, not just for weirdness sake. The cast is wonderful, Jim Broadbent, Charlotte Rampling, and the eminently watchable Ben Wishaw. Paddington one week, Q after that, and a lost and lonely man in the middle of a web of intrigue the next. I really first saw him in The Hour, a drama set in the BBC in the 1950's.

If you haven't plugged into these series, then I'd thoroughly recommend them. Ok hun?

Today

United won and city lost. And we had a curry for tea.

Do days come any more perfect?

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I'm sitting in front of the TV full of curry watching Boo drinking from one of the Christmas decorations (glass bowl with holly twig full of water.....not quite full of water). The decoration is sitting on our new coffee table (see yesterdays blog)

I have taken some pictures today which may be of interest but haven't had time to unload them off me camera. I'm too comfy to do it. You can wait until tomorrow, can't you?

Pies, Pies and Damn Pies (and cheesy mash)

About seven years ago, I bottled it. I was walking round the small Colorado town of Estes Park - going off at a slight tangent, we were in the town the following morning and there were Elk wandering about the town square - and I passed a small shop, I think it may have been a coffee shop. Anyway, it was closed and a member of staff was mopping the floor. Outside the shop was dark, the inside was lit, and had a black and white checkerboard tile floor. It shouted at me that it would look great as a black and white print. The person inside was not likely to notice me because she was engaged with tidying up before ending her day, and the difference in light between the inside and outside would have made my presence less obvious to her.

So why didn't I? Gah!

What it means is that I think about that missed opportunity, knowing that another chance like that is very unlikely to strike again. Last night, I needed to nip out and pick up a paper and a couple of other things, so, naturally, I took my camera with me. I did so knowing that it was dark, and that there would be some shops with lights on.

Now this image is relatively close to how I imagine the Estes Park one would have turned out but slightly less charming a shop and from a bit further away, and I still nearly bottled it. I wonder if I will ever feel as confident as I imagine real photographers do about taking such images?

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I don't know if you've noticed, but we have a couple of kittens in the house. Kittens and christmas trees, we have been warned, can be somewhat chaotic. Last year we chucked our John Lewis fake Xmas tree as it was a bit knackered. What we are going to do about replacing it has been discussed, and we have decided that this year we are going to forego a regular tree and create a wall mounted arty-farty tree made of wind blown branches. Less chance of the little tykes using it as a playground.

This morning we set off for Styal woods to collect some material. As I type this the wind and rain is making a show of it, but this morning was beautiful and we did collect some wood which we now need to dry before we create our masterpiece.

Here are a few pics from the walk.

"Window Pattern" - Styal Mill.

Gel thinks I should crop and clone the sign out of the bottom left. I think she's right.

"Trees"

"Back At The Old Chicken Shack" 

(an old Jazz album by Jimmy Smith for those modern jazz fans)

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After retreating to the car to avoid the first downpour of the day, we set off for the throbbing metropolis that is Stockport. Realising we needed a repast, we headed (at the behest of a co-worker, M) to a small dining establishment on St Petersgate called "Lord of the Pies", wherein we perchanced to purchase a brace of small pastry-based comestibles. My original choice of "Beef and Blue" being sold out, I opted for "Pork and Black Pudding" with cheesy mash. My dining companion chose "Lamb and something she can't remember" with braised red cabbage.

We thoroughly enjoyed it and would heartily recommend you give it a go if you find yourself in downtown Stockport at dinner time.

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We then bought a coffee table from the British Heart Foundation shop in the town centre, because that's how we roll.

Dr Zoidberg

So, I bet you're all gagging to know how the comp went last night. Ahem.

It turns out the reason I couldn't remember what my third entry was in the colour section, was that I hadn't entered three pics.  Hmm. Rather foolish. In the past I have had some success with a last minute "filler".

Just before I tell you the scores, what you need to know is that the score is relative, i.e within the range of images submitted in last nights comp. So 14 could be pretty good, if all the ones that scored higher were works of genius. 14 isn't an indication of anything other than it's ranking within the overall entry.

Anyway, as I expected in the colour, I crashed and burned, with the TUC March picture getting 14 and the Manhattan picture 15. I had the same feedback from two judges now about the latter of these and I can see they're right. It needs the irrelevant and distracting elements cropping out from the left of the image. What I saw in it when I took it (trying to jam my camera out of the window on our hotel room) was light that reminded me of the work of Edward Hopper. Hopper's work cleverly uses light and figures to give a lonely, sad feeling. What I needed was a figure or two to make the offices less "empty". To give it a focus.

The way judges work is that they will see the images on the screen, give comments and feedback and scores for all but a select few which they "hold back" for further review. It doesn't always mean a "held back" will attract a higher score, she/he just wants a bit of a further look having been initially attracted to the image.

Typically the 1st, 2nd and 3rd will score 20, 19, and, 18 points and all the other "held backs" get 17. Not always, but mostly.

The Ennerdale Water one he liked but not enough to hold back, it lacked a little spark for him and scored (I think) 15. Billy Bragg and The Art Critics, very excitingly, were both held back. After some consideration he gave Billy 17 and awarded 2nd place to the Art Critics and a score of 19.

So a pleasing first comp of the year for me. What was also pleasing was that my mate Chris (and our current chairman) scooped first place in the colour section with, ironically, another art gallery based image. What was pleasing was that it is a nice image, but also that Chris had taken on board feedback from a previous judge about the best way to improve it. And it worked.

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In the wake of Tuesday's brutal ride, I was hoping things might have eased a bit for today, and indeed that's how it turned out. Not easy, but a lot better than two days ago. The weather was clear, and for a couple of hundred yards I was stalked by a kestrel. Not sure if he was sussing out if I was potential lunch, or it was just coincidental.

The weather is still pretty decent, but I'm sure you've all noticed that it's become cooler. One of things I now know, that I didn't when I started out biking for exercise, is how important it is to me to keep my extremities dry and warm. I do remember a couple of winters ago having to abandon a Sunday morning ride having lost the feeling in my hands.

Now the temperature has become more appropriate for the time of year, I have started using my Dr Zoidberg gloves. If you're not familiar with the good Dr, he is a character from the cartoon series Futurama. According to wikipedia he is "Decapodian, a lobster-esque alien who works as the staff doctor for Planet Express".

Here's a picture of him, and another one of me with my "lobster" cycling gloves. Can you tell which is which?

Uncanny, eh?

Comp Night

18,187 steps. This morning, and indeed the rest of the day, has been remarkably pleasant given the hooley that was blowing outside last night, so I ventured out for a gentle wander around Manchester.

Actually, to be precise, Gel and I had a nice coffee together before I ventured out etc etc

I took a few shots, had a(nother) nice coffee in North Tea Power, and bumped into Christopher Ecclestone outside the Royal Exchange. We had a brief conversation,

Me: Aye up.
Him: Alright.

Which is almost exactly the same conversation I had with Robbie Coltrane and then again with Alex Ferguson in the 1990's.

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Tonight is competition night at the Photo Soc. How will I do? I'm unlikely to win, or pick up a place, and I am at peace with that. I wouldn't always have been so relaxed about it.

When I first started out taking photography seriously, I joined the local Photo Soc and entered the competitions they offered. My photography improved and I quickly understood what was needed to do well in those comps. The improvement was a consequence of the feedback from these comps, as well as from friends (Phil) and other external sources (magazines, internet etc).

After a while I started to realise when I was out and about taking pictures, I was thinking "Oh, this is a competition pic" rather than "This is the sort of pic I'd like to take".

I have gradually changed and now I take pictures of what interests me, and, as evidenced from recent comps, doesn't interest judges. Would I be happy to pick up a prize? You bet, but I'm not taking pictures to win competitions anymore, I'm taking them for me.

Here are the entries, and they will be scored out of 20. Have a go yourself and tomorrow you can compare your score with what the judge thought.

Mono

Billy Bragg

Mist over Ennerdale Water

The Art Critics

Colour

Don't Bomb Syria

Manhattan Lightplay

Rather embarrassingly, I can't remember what I submitted as my third colour entry.......

Bugger

Last night I volunteered to pic up a bunch of teenagers from a gig in Manchester. This isn't a great imposition for me as a) I get to buzz around town in my new jalopy, and b) it means I have an excuse to snidey into Manchester and try taking a few pics.

Last night was intermittently wet, but not so wet at any time I had to retreat. The venue for the gig was Sound Control, on the road next to the Thirsty Scholar on Oxford Road, so I parked up on Hulme Street, and wandered up Oxford Road and back. It was a quiet Monday night (apart from the two gentlemen who were holding each other up outside the old Odeon building up near St Peter's Sq - it's a Monday night guys!!). I was pleased there was been some rain as it made for some nice reflections off the streets and pavements.

I had considered using my monopod, but ended up leaving it in the car, as I didn't want to be caught in the rain with too much equipment. In the end I didn't lead to that many ruined shots due to camera shake, but I was always aware of the slow shutter speeds I was getting. Some shots at 1/6th of a second were a bit, ahem, soft.

One kind of shot I won't take is ones of homeless people. There was a guy asleep on the pavement outside the car park by Great Bridgewater Street. Someone had propped an umbrella to keep him dry, and as I went past, a diner from Pizza Express (opposite) left a doggy bag of pizza for him. Were I a photo-journalist, then I'd feel comfortable doing it, but I'm just an amateur club fotog, so it feels a bit exploitative.

Here are a few shots from last night:

From St Peter's Square. Central Ref and the Town Hall extension.

Albert Square taxi rank

Side street off Albert Square.

The Peveril of the Peak, Great Bridgewater Street.

The Cornerhouse, Whitworth Street.

No Loitering. James Leigh Street, off Oxford Road.

I dropped my camera taking it out of the car when I got home. Still works fine, but now has its first "war wound" on the top plate. It was in a (thinnish) bag so it could have been a lot worse.

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Why "Bugger"? I think I've overdone the cycling. Or (more likely) the chemo is catching up with me more than I realised. Today's ride was REALLY hard. I struggled mightily, and am now feeling really worn out.

Last time I reported on my cycle route, I promised I'd take  couple of pics on my ride. Here is the WWI wooden soldier outside the Mobberly Victory Hall.

and here's one of the first red brick churches that sparked my interest. It's St Cross, Knutsford.

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Made a simple veg soup for tea, and going to take it easy for the rest of the day. Looking mighty stormy out there just now. Best to stay warm and cosy.

Admin

So I left you yesterday having basically sat on me arse all afternoon watching documentaries and eating leftover food. We retired early, and I put myself into a snoozy mode by reading a bit more of Nick Robinson's book about politics and the press (the BBC mostly). I made sure I'd not had much to drink just before settling down and had a most splendid sleep, with only a couple of interruptions.

Still feeling relatively tired, today was always going to be a quiet one, as I had to wait in for a delivery that required me to sign for it. 25 years ago I (re)started at TSB, and they have been very nice in giving me a few vouchers to spend. However, it also meant Gel and I could attend to some paperwork/admin.

I've always been a loyal TSB/LTSB/LBG customer and since I started a mortgage with them in 1986 have pretty much gone with the insurance quote offered each year. I wonder how much money I've wasted as a consequence. This years premium was well in excess of £600, so I visited moneysavingsexpert and tried one of the compare websites (I hope to get 2-for-1 cinema tickets now) and ended up with a quote of about £250. Directly comparing the two quotes isn't easy, and I've scaled back a few requirements - £500,000 buildings cover rather than unlimited, for example - but I've also upped the 'valuables' section to cover my cameras.

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That's it. Sorry. Here's a random shot from my flickr stream.

Liverpool Metropolitan Cathedral

Bill

Last night we had some friends over for a meal so yesterday was taken up with getting the house in order and cooking a pile of food. A relaxing day given the problems I've been having with sleep again.

The hormone therapy give me hot flushes and this seems to be brought on when my temperature goes up. My body sees this as a signal to push it up even further. So I get all comfy in bed, wrapped in the duvet and whoosh, I'm making like a kiln.

So I stick me leg, or arm, or arse out and cool down, which triggers a desire for a wee so up I get. This happens 4, 5, 6 times a night, so my sleep is all over the place. The only recent exception being when I Night Nursed myself to sleep. Its tempting to do that all the time now I know it works, except that I also know that its effect will wear off. I should reserve its use for when I really need it.

Anyway, it was a really nice evening, and meant today there has been no need to cook as we've got tons left over. So while Gel was out, I watched a doc about Richard Prior, and rewatched a doc about a fashion photographer called Bill Cunningham. The reason I rewatched it was that during our stay in NY in the summer I bumped into him and he allowed me to take a pic.

It was a little bizarre, as I had been wondering to myself if I might see him. He is 86, rides a bike everywhere, and wears a distinctive blue smock jacket. I was waiting outside a shop for Gel and Pheebs when I saw this old bloke on a bike with a blue smock....it couldn't be....

He stopped right next to me and bought something off a street vendor, and was about to set off when I collared him.

He was very gracious.

If you get a chance the doc is called "Bill Cunningham: New York". Its on Netflix.

Horror

Memories. How many memories are 'real'? I have an idea that my Nain (my dad's mum) used to say she'd "look" at the paper, or "look" at the television rather than read or watch. Is that a real memory or one I've created over the years? Either way, I seem to have started to occasionally use 'look' recently.

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Yesterday evening, Gel and I watched a cheery comedy show in which a couple had a few days in Paris in order to revive their love life. When it finished I suggested we "look" at the news before heading to bed only to be confronted with the appalling news of the terrorist attacks.

If you've been reading this blog on a regular basis, you'll know it's a fairly trivial thing. I find it hard however, to let these horrific events pass. Only on Wednesday evening I was picking up Pheebs and her friends from a concert venue in Manchester. There will be many friends and parents in Paris who may have been preparing to do the same thing last night.

But what to say? I know that I am ignorant enough of the social, political, and historic background that I run the risk of saying something stupid, or worse inflammatory. So I will stick to offering my thoughts to the people of Paris, and to the vast majority of the Muslim communities across the world who will be as appalled as the rest of us at these events.

Sleep, perchance to dream

Yay! It's here.

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As I have mentioned previously, on the day before, and the day of, my chemo, I have to take a steroid called Dexamethasone, which is to help stave off any allergic reactions to the drug.

The side effect is that it makes me a bit "whizzy". So on Wednesday I had my four pills for brekkie, and another four for me dinner (that's the meal in then middle of the day for you non-northerners).

Wednesday evening was photo club night (where I picked up a certificate for 4th in the DPI Colour section of our annual comp) followed by a trip into Manchester to pick up Pheebs from the Ritz where she and her mates had been to see Fidlar (pics to follow).

After getting home I settled into bed and lay awake ALL NIGHT. Actually, I must have drifted off a bit, but it felt like I'd lain there watching the hours left available to me for sleep gradually slipping away. Yesterday I was feeling a touch jaded, as you might imagine, and so had decided I needed to ensure I had some help in getting to sleep last night since I'd been ingesting more Dexamethasone.

Step forward, Night Nurse. Mmmmmmm, slept like a log. Feel great today.

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When I went into Manchester on Wednesday I did so thinking I might take my camera and get a few pics. My experience of gigs (stretching back to 1978 with my first gig at the Free Trade Hall to see Jonathan Richman and The Modern Lovers) was that the pavement outside would be littered with vendors selling knock-off t-shirts and other memorabilia. I thought the lights from the venue would light up the vendors against the dark(er) street.

However when I got there, there were no vendors and the outside was set up to ensure the the audience exiting the venue did not interfere with the other pavement users. All very civilised and a little disappointing but it didn't stop me taking a few snaps. Very slow shutter speeds meant that many of the shots of the punters were unusable....that and not being very interesting.

Junction of Cambridge Street and Whitworth Street looking towards Oxford Road.

Tunnel under Oxford Road Station towards Great Marlborough Street.

The outside of The O2 Ritz on Whitworth street.

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When I was in bed at first, the "Cheeky Monkey" cats escaped from the utility room, where they sleep at night, and joined us on the bed. After an aborted attempt to lock them away, we wondered whether it was time to allow them to sleep "wild" in the house. After they had jumped on my head and licked my ear, I realised they weren't quite well behaved enough, so locked them up good and proper.

Gratuitous kitten shot of the day.