It’s nearly rutting season. Stags begin to gather their harems, display their fine antlers. In a week or two … let battle commence.
My contribution to Six Word Saturday.
It’s nearly rutting season. Stags begin to gather their harems, display their fine antlers. In a week or two … let battle commence.
My contribution to Six Word Saturday.
Liverpool’s tourist Mecca: the Albert Dock.
Tate Liverpool: park your umbrella inside….
Beyond the gallery window: industrial life.
Snow? Shifting perspectives? Infinite space?
Concentric lines, unsettled steps – careful! Zobop!

Arte Povera: a classical figure commentates.
Water within, water without: a view, a statue.
Beuys/me: two self-portaits in one.

Time for a smartphone moment: Sue?
And a bike moment: Sue again?
And a pause for reflection.
Before the rains came…. yet again.
An entry for Six Word Saturday – on Sunday…

I was mucking about, trying to achieve the effect of a set of gaudily coloured 1960s postcards, suitable as a souvenir of a day at the seaside. I sort of got there.
An entry for Six Word Saturday.
An entry for Six Word Saturday.

Get up, bright and early.
Get washed, dressed, and have a hearty breakfast.
Make sandwiches and pack day sack.
Check map: I’m leading today’s walk!
Put boots and walking poles in bag.
Put bag and day sack in car.
Drive to Ripon rendez-vous.
Welcome walkers, who all car-share to start of walk – not my car.
All get booted-up and ready to walk …..
… Except me.
The boots in my bag are not mine.
They’re my husband’s.
Stare at battered canvas sneakers I wore to begin the day.
Realise these won’t do for a country walk.
Thrust map and walking route into press-ganged hands.
Wave walkers a reluctant goodbye.
Trudge along the road, back to Ripon.
Not recommended.


My contribution to Six Word Saturday.
It will come as no surprise to regular readers that we’ve been on another demo: a Flash Demo – one of the many that sprung up around the country as a direct and horrified response to Boris Johnson’s decision to ask the Queen to Prorogue Parliament: here’s an explanation.
If you’re reading this on Saturday, we’ll be in York, demonstrating again, alongside thousands of other in Leeds, and cities all over the country.
On Thursday, we heard from politicians from different parties, cooperating to fight together. We heard from campaigners. We heard from those from mainland Europe who’d chosen Britain as their home. We heard from individuals terrified of the effect of No Deal on their own health or that of a loved one, dependent on prescription drugs. And best of all we heard from children, some still in primary school: informed, passionate, articulate speeches. Those children, still a long way from voting age, are our future.
This time, these rallies aren’t about Brexit. Not really. They’re about our Democracy.
Here are photos.
But I’ll leave you with this one, snapped through the window of a barbers’ shop in Leeds. You might not like the language. Gotta approve the sentiments.
My post for this weeks’s Six Word Saturday.
…. ere the winter storms begin’*. Farmers round these parts worry about getting the harvest in at this time of year. Malcolm and I worry about getting wood for winter, for the log burner. So we ordered some and it came this week.
From this, three large bags of it ….
to this … in two long, sweaty and back-breaking shifts, warming us every bit as much as a blazing winter fire does. Unpack the bags, and neatly stack every single log in tidy tall rows in the shed.
You’re meant to be impressed at our hard work.
We’ve got ash, valued for its steady heat output and bright flame: and oak, a dense, long-burning wood with a small flame. We’ve stacked them so we can access either. Can you spot the difference?

* This is a mis-quote from the English Christian harvest-time hymn ‘Come ye thankful people come’.
My offering for Six Word Saturday.
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