… I’ve retaken the photographs that bombed so spectacularly yesterday.
Here we have the men working in the tidal harbour messing about with the mooring chains, and there’s also one of the sunken boats that I mentioned yesterday. They seem to be making no effort to salvage that.
Yes, it was a beautiful afternoon today, a little cold and windy though but nice blue skies and it was a pleasure to walk down to the harbour, seeing that I didn’t have much else to do.
And with the camera, now fully charged, and the telephoto lens, there’s a really good view of what they are doing at the harbour entrance.
There’s some kind of guillotine gate to retain the water, and I’m not sure whether it sinks into the ground or is lifted out by the crane when the tide is coming in. I’ve certainly never seen it dangling.
And the pressure is behind it must be phenomenal. With a traditional hinged door, the pressure of the water behind it keeps it closed. But this must be tilting about dreadfully, the way that it’s pivoted
One thing that I didn’t do was to beat the second alarm this morning. I’d heard the first one of course but then I must have gone back to sleep because Billy Cotton summoned me from my reverie. And if I’d been anywhere eon my travels during the night I can’t remember now.
We had the usual leisurely start to the day and then I began to attack the European Photograph Mountain. Despite having tidied it up quite considerably, I’m still coming across things that totally surprise me. Like a directory hidden deep in the bowels of the hard drive with over 8GB of photos in it that are quite possibly quadruplicates of stuff that I’ve organised earlier.
And despite all of this, there is still some substantial amount of files that I can’t yet find which ought to be around here somewhere.
For a change I remembered to rescue the soup from the freezer for lunch, and then I attacked the missing blog entry for Saturday. That’s now on line, if you would care to look back a few days.
And then we had my walk down to the harbour and the deathly (and I do mean deathly) struggle back up the steps to here. It’s not looking so good right now.
And that reminds me.
When I was seriously ill before and they gave me my first lot of treatment, it was a three-month course. And when it was discovered that it had failed, they gave me another three-month course. This time, they have told me that it’s a six-month course. That, I suppose, speaks volumes in itself. It’s a very depressing thought.
Back here I had a coffee and some more of my chocolate, and then fighting off the urge to crash out, I attacked the missing blog entry for Sunday. That’s done too, so you have several now, all for the price of one, you lucky people.
That still left plenty of time for a play about on the bass guitar, and I managed to work out the bass line to Deep Purple’s “Strange Kind of Woman”. I’d almost forgotten all about that. And I’m trying to work out the bass line to Lindisfarne’s “No Time To Lose” – which is confusing to say the least. But I’ll get there
Tea was the rest of the oven chips, beans and a vegan burger. And I went out for a walk afterwards, first time for several weeks that I’ve followed the muddy path on the outside of the walls. It’s been dry since Sunday, much to everyone’s surprise.
And I’ve had a good look on Amazon too. I’ve left both of my guitar tuners back on the farm, and I need some new strings for the bass. What with one thing or another I’m building up quite a shopping list.
Still, it IS nearly my birthday … HINT HINT.
