2011 — 22 April: Friday (Good or not)
I assume1 that it's some aspect of Easter today, though I gather it remains a moveable feast. The sun is shining, there's some music from "Carmen" on at the moment, and plans are afoot to assault a few Hampshire footpaths in a couple of hours from now. Not without a cuppa, though.
I could pretend my "artistic blur" in today's photo of Christa was deliberate but, in fact, she simply moved her head just as I was clicking and it was already a slow shutter speed. No matter:
I can even identify the Escher print2 vaguely visible to her right.
Last night was an enjoyable reminder of just how good "Out of Sight" is. An excellent Blu-ray technically, too, with a nice, simple "Universal" interface. And when I return from the walk (assuming I'm not too knackered), I shall freshen up and pop over to say "Hi" to Roger and Eileen, who are rumoured still to have a festive biscuit I haven't eaten.
I'm irritated...
... that mere sport (described, if you please, as "important") has been permitted to displace the weekly film review programme on BBC Radio 5 Live. Bad enough that we're supposed to enthuse about some monarch's child's child getting married.
I liked the colour contrasts visible here, though at such relatively close quarters Mike's lens wasn't really "wide angle" enough for the framing I would have preferred. Mine would have been just the same as both our lenses go down to 18mm. Thinks: maybe I should start taking my camera with me again? I just got out of the habit after I'd dropped my telephoto one time through sheer clumsiness.
Anyway, click the pic to enlarge it:
Bridge for a dismantled railway line
Just ignore any converging verticals.
There was also some slight hint of bluebells:
Given the amount of pollen and dust that seemed to be drifting around (and visibly dusting the car by the time we got back to it) it seems the last three and a half years of country walking have indeed largely rid me of my hay fever (though I still don't intend to stick my nose too close to any clover).
It's 15:49 and I'm now fresh as a daisy, so I shall toddle over to blag that biscuit. [Pause] Now (18:48) let's think about some food.
How,...
... one may well ask, having gone to all the trouble of shopping specifically for it, can one possibly manage to mislay one's latest free CD from one's latest issue of "The Word" magazine before one has managed to play the damn' thing even once? One is loath to suspect a portable black hole, useful though such an unlikely household item might be. Poop!
It's 21:09 and — to go with my momentary lapse of reason — the nice, loud music is some 24-year-old Pink Floyd. (By the way, which one's pink?)