The instruction is to find a fleeting moment on the street. This photo was taken during the 2006 World Cup but it could be from any football tournament (including the current European Cup): that fleeting moment every England fan thinks we really could win this time.
If this is summer, it must be spring cleaning. Yesterday was tidy up the garden time. I fought pavement weeds, re-arranged the garden ornaments (old bikes, old pots, recycling bins) and braved the grass.
Today, I spent the past hour uploading photos and writing amusing captions, and WordPress has just lost them.
We are not amused. And neither are you, because I’m not uploading them again.
For the Family Silver to appreciate in the Vault:
For the Hub to outgrow his aeroplane obsession:
For this lovely boy to crawl:
And, of course, for Christmas!
Alexandra Park was given to the district of Edgeley by the Sykes family. We can walk, fish (with a licence and so long as we throw them all back), go on the swings, picnic, play games. It’s a nice park.
Every Tuesday afternoon, a bunch of old men gather on one side of the reservoir to sail boats and ignore passersby.
Why is that an interesting thing to do? Same with remote control cars: why not drive the real thing?
I just don’t get it.
Big Tent’s prompt this week was a Wordle.
I managed to use all of the words in a poem that discusses a theme I keep coming back to.
A ship’s garbage pile
embellished by a child swarm.
Flies; debris; half-eaten food.
A prize: a mouldy loaf –
a feast for ribs, backbones,
Evidence of temporary joy:
laughter, chants, bloated pockets,
sweep skirts aside;
fearing hunger’s contaminants.
There is no welfare; no child care.
They ask no questions.
There are no answers.