Chamone Michael.

The one gloved, plastic surgery experimenting one, is no more. Fifty years of age is pretty damn young for the king of pop to pop his clogs.... I hope someone has the good sense to let the Big Brother contestants know this sad news!!!!!

As for me.... well. I've been taking LOADS of photos..... been walking a bit..... beat the blind, old aged pensioners, to a pulp on the crown green bowling surface.... got drunk..... and today, I've been baking, and baking, and then baking a bit more.

I've made chocolate brownies, hokey pokey coffee cake, and some sundried tomato and parmesan bread. I still need to ice my cake and sort out the walnut praline for it, but other than that it's a wrap!!

Going out for some noodles tonight. Big Brother eviction night too - woohoo!!


The view across Foxstone Moss - Ironically, I never even knew of our foxy connection. I would have normally referred to this location as Buckstones, but am much happier now I've actually looked it up. It's just more cotton grass.

Say it a bit louder.....

.... make you feel a little bit better.

What a hot day it's been.

I spent the morning practicing a few things that I've recently learned about my camera. Having spent a day on an "improver's" camera course, I've been inspired to point my camera in every direction at every opportunity. Lots of bad photos and a very few decent ones.

This all ties in with the fact that I didn't manage to win a spot on the Colne Valley calendar competition with any of the six shots I sent them!!!! (insert sad smiley here) There were 58 entrants, each submitting six photos and they only could pick thirteen of them, so I guess the odds were against me...... All entries will be exhibited though in September and October, so at least that's something.

I gave up walking and taking pictures when it got too hot. I retreated to the relative comfort of my local bowling club (see bowling cam) for refreshment, and indulged in a couple of handpulled Webster's Best Bitter.


Buzz buzz buzz buzz honey bee, honey bee, do what you like but don't sting me. A piece of clover with a waxy legged bumble bee near Ringstone Edge Reservoir. Just one of a series of shots taken using "manual" camera settings - I'm finally venturing away from the "auto" stuff and getting a bit more creative - twenty two quid well spent on the course then!!

52 Minutes.

It has some very poignant meanings.

Firstly, 52 minutes is a short film about the growing epidemic of knife crime in London. When last I was in London, there were actually mobile metal detecting arches set up on pavements for people to walk through.

Secondly, it's the name of a Canadian rock band. Part of the hardcore/emo scene, whatever that means!!?!? Of course we all know that it means "emotional hardcore" on account of its' "oh so sensitive" lyricism. Those crafty punk wordsmiths.

Thirdly, it was the amount of time it took Barack Obama to deliver two speeches (exactly 26 minutes each) in Europe, which spelled out his desire to rid the world of nuclear weapons and his intention to launch a drive on nuclear disarmament - possibly bigger than any ever attempted - well, it would have to be Mister Obama - We've still got them, so that tells you the level of success of previous "drives" - besides:

Homer: It's pronounced 'nucular'. Nucular.

Fourthly, and most importantly, it was the amount of footage that I recorded last night, of the Big Brother "live" schedule..... during which time, the housemates were getting ready for bed. 52 minutes into my three hour recording schedule, and of course the lights were off and everyone was snoring. They are, without a doubt, the most sleepy bunch of housemates EVER!!!

Snow in summer. A whole heap of Eriophorum near Deer Hill, under a fluffy clouded sky. I could not choose which of the photos to post here, but chose this one just for the sky. That's cotton grass to you and me, dumbo!! You would not believe the difference in weather between yesterday and today.... my birdhouse has blown out of the tree this morning.... now where will I live!!

Force.

Well it started a bit chilly this morning, but by ten o clock it was turning into another scorcher.

Sadly, I'd recorded a few hours of the live Big Brother that went out at one in the morning, and found that it featured three hours of sleeping housemates. A more pointless six hour broadcast I can not imagine.

I fast forward through three hours of sleeping and reach a stage of complete disgust at what a waste of time it's turning into.

I put my boots in the car and grab a bottle of water. I put my camera back together and grab my car keys. I drive out to Blackmoorfoot and embark on a six mile walk in the sweltering sun. It's not long before the sweat is quite literally dripping off me. I find that carrying a rucksack ALWAYS makes me hotter and before long all my clothes are clinging and clammy.

I combine two of my favourite walks into one. I walk round Blackmoorfoot, through Helme, and out to the shooting lodge at Deer Hill. I have so many good photographs from today that I can't imagine I'll ever get round to choosing a suitable selection.

Later this afternoon I spotted an accident on the motorway outside my house. I took a few photos from my bedroom window and managed to get the local newspaper to publish one on the website. I don't know how long this link'll work.


This season's chick. The first real feathers are appearing on this young fuzzy duck. A lovely glassy surface on Blackmoorfoot Reservoir. (I'm always guilty of (badly) photographing wildlife but I like the water surface and first coloured feathers on this little darling, so you have my apologies for yet another duck pic).

Limbo.

For some reason I feel like I'm in limbo.... I think I need to get out of my funk and go and do something..... it's the half life of a Big Brother addict but without the usual companionship of the live feed from the house. Perhaps I'll watch bowling-cam instead??

I am starting to think about camping?? Is that right?? There just seems to be no end to the internet bargains in the camping department, and I get a step closer to indulging with each discount email that manages to resist my spam filter.

Perhaps I'll just swap my quilt for a sleeping bag and kip on the floor instead, and I will still get to drink a decent cup of coffee on demand.

New music to accompany your visit.... and a new photo too.... what more could you ask for?


A skylark rests atop St George's day commemorative stone at Wholestone Hill - part of the White Rose Forest walk.