Curved Bridge, Matlock Bath
It turns out that I took a lot of photos when I popped up north, and it turns out – although I knew it already – that when I shoot with the wide angle lens and drop the aperture down it really shows up dirt on the sensor in a couple of places (which I really must get around to getting properly cleaned) which means that going through those many, many photos and using the spot removal tool is taking quite a long time. So I needed a quick break, and I had a quick look at my favourite circles here, and I realised that I'd never submitted anything for #LeadingLinesMonday curated by +Pam Chalkley and +Jakob Nilsson before and that I had a shot that qualified. So here it is: it's a bridge. Google+: View post on...
Matlock Bath
Back from our short jaunt to Yorkshire and much photo uploading, deleting, and basic processing is taking place, as one might expect. Our first stop – unless you count the service station when I needed to pee, and I'm not so you shouldn't (and, besides, there are no photos of the service station or of anything that occurred in the toilets (you'll be immensely pleased to hear (really should stop nesting comments inside parentheses now))) – was in the Peak District, so called on account of its peaks and it being a district if I were to hazard a guess. We parked up in a lovely little place called Matlock Bath and had a wander up and down its main, winding road, checking out the shops selling interesting touristy tat (the missus bought a rather lovely, textured hoodie that looked like it could have been designed by Giger) and enjoying the views of the hills and houses, the river, and the people. Very nice place indeed. For #MonochromeMonday curated by +Bill Wood, +Charles Lupica, +Jerry Johnson, and +Hans Berendsen. Google+: View post on...
Waiting
He's waiting to hear the results of the blood test. Does he have any? She's waiting for the results of the cat experiment to play out. Can Felix escape from a padlocked bag? And you'll be waiting for me to upload any more photos for a few days as we're off on a drive "oop nahrth" (translation: northwards) tomorrow to take in our annual viewing of a Super League game when Wakefield take on local rivals Castleford. We'll then be spending a day doing touristy things in Yorkshire before driving back. Two days of being greeted with "y'arriiight loov" (translation: how are you doing?) to come for me! Looking forward to it. Google+: View post on...
Progress Cup
That's my little (he's bigger now) brother on the left and me on the right (aged around nine, at a guess) proudly holding the Progress Cup while my mum or dad take one of their patented Not-Quite-All-Of-The-Head shots they seemed to find so fascinating if looking through old photos is anything to go by. I don't actually remember what the Progress Cup was awarded for but if I had to guess from the shirt I'm wearing in that picture I'd say it had something to do with desert warfare. For #BlastFromThePast curated by +Cheryl Cooper, +Isabelle Fortin, and +Mark Rodriguez. Google+: View post on...
Murder At Metathesis Mansion
Well, this is luxury. I’m in the back seat of a car appreciating the fine stitching on the initials “H.W.” emboridered into the leather, and I’m taking in a view of the countryside just outside the city. It’s raining, but then it’s always raining. Still, trees make a nice change from grey buildings and flickering lights even though I’m not sure I could stand it for long. “Penny for your thoughts, Mister Rake?” asks Joseph. Joseph’s my driver; not long-term, of course. I haven’t suddenly come into a fortune while I’ve been away, no. Joseph was sent to fetch me at the request of his employer who right now and for a tidy little daily retainer also happens to be my employer. “Just admiring nature, Joseph,” I tell him. “I had a potted plant once but this is quite different.” I can tell from his eyes in the rear view mirror that he’s smiling at that but he doesn’t say anything. We’ve already had a short chat on the drive out from the city so there’s not a lot else to say. Joseph’s young and friendly and has told me bits and pieces about life working up at the mansion but I figure it’s easier to not press him too hard and conduct my full investigation when I get there. And if that means the case takes a little longer, well, my wallet certainly won’t complain. * The mansion’s a little smaller and a little more rundown than I was expecting but Mrs Warmer is just the same as when she surprised me in the office five days earlier. “Joseph!” she addresses the driver in her nasally voice. “Take Mister Rake’s bag to the guest room in the west wing after you’ve parked the car. Mister Rake,” she says to me, slipping a hand around the crook of my arm, “let me give you a quick tour and then you’ll want to freshen up I have no doubt.” I hope she’s not making some comment about my suit because it’s the only one I’ve got so I just smile and nod and let her take me for a quick wander through the house. It’s your standard mansion layout with a large entrance hall and its obligatory black-and-white tiles and required-by-law impressively wide staircase. Doors to the left and right at the front of the building lead to drawing rooms and dining rooms while there’s a gentlemen’s room to the rear and the servants’ quarters along with kitchen and pantry too. Upstairs it’s bedrooms, a cloak room, and a small library with some nice views to the tree-lined drive we...
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