Tag: Monochrome Madness

A Monochrome Sea

The British Sovereign has an Official Birthday in order to conduct the Trooping the Colour at a suitable time of year. Our family: or at least the London and Spanish branches and us, had an Official Christmas at a suitable time in December: and we went to West Sussex together. Here was the winter seaside. A couple of these shots are natural monochromes because – well – the weather was naturally monochrome.

And that herring gull I showed the other day seemed to attract a few fans – as a bit of an anti-hero, I guess. So here he is again, on sentry duty.

For Leanne’s Monochrome Madness.

PS. I’m knocking off for a while. Family in Spain calling. I might send the odd postcard.

(Leanne – your site has taken against me. It won’t let me leave a comment. So I hope the pingback works.)

The Twelve Days of Christmas

I think most English speaking people have come across the Christmas song in which the singer is offered by the beloved a whole series of different gifts over the twelve days of the festival, beginning with a single partridge in a pear tree. Here’s a list of those gifts:

On the first day of Christmas my true love sent to me .... (and so on, through to the last day of all)

A partridge in a pear tree
Two turtle doves
Three French hens
Four calling birds
Five gold rings
Six geese a-laying
Seven swans a-swimming
Eight maids a-milking
Nine ladies dancing
Ten lords a-leaping
Eleven pipers piping
Twelve drummers drumming

My Monochrome Madness Challenge to you is to illustrate this song, just choosing three or four of those gifts. I’m not going to be harsh. For instance. If you choose swans a-swimming , you really don’t have to have seven. One will do. If you’ve got ten or more French hens, who cares? Because I set the challenge, and in case I hear any more un-Christmas-y mutterings from those to whom I’ve already disclosed my theme, I’m going to illustrate all twelve to prove it can be done. And taking liberties is entirely acceptable. In fact, it’s to be encouraged. Here goes.

On the first day of Christmas my true love sent to me – a partridge in a pear tree. ‘Ooops. The partridge seems to have flown off. He’ll be back in a minute. Bound to be.’
On the second day of Christmas my true love sent to me – two turtle doves.’We’re not turtle doves, just common-or- garden pigeons. But we’re related. We’re fine. Choose me! Choose me!.’
On the third day of Christmas my true love sent to me – three French hens. ‘I don’t know whether we have French blood. Probably not. Does it matter?’
On the fourth day of Christmas my true love sent to me – four calling birds. ‘Just me at the moment. The others’ll be along soon.’
On the fifth day of Christmas my true love sent to me – five gold rings. ‘There’s just that one on top, mate. But there’s bound to be a few more if you take your time and look.’
On the sixth day of Christmas my true love sent to me – six geese a-laying. ‘They’re on their way to do just that, sir.’
On the seventh day of Christmas my true love sent to me – seven swans a-swimming. The others are over there – on the other side of the pond.
On the eighth day of Christmas my true love sent to me – eight maids a-milking. ‘Yep, that little maid was only born the other day. She’s milking her mum alright! Seven more calves due in the next few days. Just gotta be patient.’
On the ninth day of Christmas my true love sent to me – nine ladies dancing. ‘Just nine you want? Yes, we can do that for you, sir.’
On the tenth day of Christmas my true love sent to me – ten lords a-leaping. ‘We might find it difficult to supply the full set of ten sir. Most lords aren’t as young as they once were. But look at these two. Can’t fault their leaping.’
On the eleventh day of Christmas my true love sent to me – eleven pipers piping. ‘If you think your young lady can take the noise, we can certainly do you the full eleven pipers.’
On the twelfth day of Christmas my true love sent to me – twelve drummers drumming. ‘Easy. We’ve got at least eleven more on call just like this fellah. Would that suit you?’

There! Now just pick three or four of those days and show us what you can do.

Leanne and Elke have already beaten me to it ….

The Space Between….

That’s the title of Stupidity Hole‘s intriguing challenge as guest presenter of Monochrome Madness.

I started off with the obvious. The restricted spaces in narrow lanes, alleyways and thoroughfares.

Then I remembered the time when my grandson leapt into the space between the strokes of the letter O in a street installation.

Or there’s the curious tree near us where the space between the two parts of its malformed trunk form an ad hoc picture frame.

And lastly, a negative image. The tree occupies the space between an apparently endless expanse of – well- fresh air.

Thanks, Stupidity Hole for providing a provocative challenge to engage the mind on an excessively windy winter morning.

Leaves and Petals?

It’s November, so leaves and petals in the UK have largely done a bunk. Still, maybe I can find a little spring and summer time cheer in the archives, and fulfill my obligations to Monochrome Madness‘ host this week, Dawn; as well as to Becky’s NovemberShadows.

The header photograph includes both: tulip leaves shafting upwards, and topped by the simple clean lines of the tulip flower.

For the rest, it’s a miscellany that took my fancy. But all are either in shadow, or casting a shadow. So first … leaves…

… and flowers…

And finally, a doughty dandelion, flourishing on a brick wall in the gardens of Beningbrough Hall, near York. How it nourished all those leaves and petals is quite beyond me.

Farmer Fisher’s Farmyard Friends

One of the first picture books to come into the house – oh gosh – more than 45 years ago, delighted all three of my children, and the adults who read it with them. It’s still sought after, this early edition, but you’ll have to shell out about £25 to get a copy. The book was Farmer Fisher.

Farmer Fisher had a fine fat truck.
You couldn't see the colour for the farmyard muck.
In the front was a rabbit and a chicken and a duck -
On the way to market.

Well. I won’t be showing you a rabbit. I haven’t got a shot of one. Or a chicken. Or a duck. Elke, for this week’s Monochrome Madness would like us to show farmyard animals, so I’m sticking to four legged examples.

Like cows …

… and sheep …

… and pigs …

… and a goat …

… and not forgetting donkeys. Not useful, but easy to love.

And here’s a little library of livestock to finish with.

For Leanne’s Monochrome Madness.

Au Cas Où

I mentioned the other day our habit of having with us at all times an au cas où bag, foraging for the use of. At this time of year, this bag is a completely necessary accessory. Here’s my haul from last Thursday.

Here we are. Crab apples; cooking apples; windfall pears; red mirabelles. These have become crab apple and chilli jelly; cooked down with previously foraged then frozen blackberries; scrumped; mirabelle frangipane with a good number of them, then … not sure yet. We’ve made quite enough mirabelle jam, thank you.

This is the time of year for mushrooming, but we haven’t been lucky yet. Apart from the obvious field mushrooms (no pictures!) I’m only confident to look for football sized puffballs (which make, apart from other dishes, excellent steak substitutes) …

… and shaggy inkcaps, which need to come home quickly before they deliquesce into inky pools.

Here are some of the other regular finds: crab apples in the feature photo; mirabelles both yellow and red; blackberries; apples of all kinds.

Here’s some of the kitchen activity: Weighing, then straining the juices from simmered-down fruits.

… and some of the results:

In this case, the only photo I had to hand was of jars of marmalade (I even forage Seville oranges when we’re in Spain in winter), and gin which I have made in Seville orange, mulberry, sloe, and mirabelle varieties at different times.

Foraging is some of the best fun to be had in autumn. Just don’t forget your au cas où bag.

For Leanne’s Monochrome Madness.

Dogs on the Beach

This week’s Monochrome Madness, hosted by Elke of Pictures Imperfect, takes pets as its subject. We don’t have one of those, though we are required to provide daily chats and cuddles to Newt, the dog next door on one side, and catering services when her owner is away to MiMi, the cat next door on the other side.

So I’m taking you to Bamburgh in Northumbria, where we were walking recently on the best sort of afternoon at an English seaside, with bright sun, breeze and gentle warmth. It was an afternoon for beach strolls and games … and for taking the dog out to play.