Booths...

On my way to the Lakes, and stopping in at the Booths store in Ilkley: Booths, the self-styled “acceptable face of supermarkets”. With my Booths card I can get free wifi, clean toilets and a free cup of tea to wash down my bacon sandwich: very convenient for a man on the move.

I’m driving through a landscape of sodden fields and temporary lakes… and still the rain is falling. Where does it all come from?

Dream...

While chatting with friends, I said I don’t seem to dream (or, rather, that I no longer remember my dreams). And then, out of the blue, I had a vivid dream last night. Male MPs - all stark naked - were approaching a microphone on a stage and addressing an unseen audience. To the left were a group of politicians undressing, waiting their turn to speak; to the right were politicians who, having spoken, were getting dressed again. Nothing in this scene seemed in the slightest bit odd; the MPs themselves looked as though these naked appearances were a regular feature of political life. It’s a dream I’ll be happy to forget…

Pigeons...

Back to Sowerby Bridge, in the rain, where a group of pigeons are eating a slice of discarded pizza in the car park. I’m beginning to regret my decision not to winter in the Seychelles this year…

Otley...

Got my laptop mended today. The machine seemed to think it was full - of photos, mostly - but it wasn’t. All sorted now. In Otley this evening to have a few beers with my oldest chum…

Knarsborough...

Despite the weather - mild and damp, with leaden skies, day after day - it feels like the heart of winter. The days must be getting longer, though, since I haven’t yet seen sunshine in 2016, I can’t say I’ve noticed any difference. I’ve got a bit of writers’ block, and the weather’s not good for taking pix. But, hey, the square in Knarsborough looked cheerful enough last night, with all the Christmas lights, and there was a seat by the fire in an old-fashioned pub…

Embers...

I parked up on the moors last night, with the sky clear and full of stars. The lights of Burnley were twinkling in the valley below like the dying embers of the old year. It was only when the fireworks started that I realised midnight had arrived. Without a firework display to add some spurious excitement, the countdown to 2016 would end in silence: a non-event, an existential void. For a few minutes the fireworks turned Burnley into a war-zone.

In Wetherspoons for breakfast. Very quiet… just a few old guys. Whatever they’ve resolved to give up in January, it isn’t the idea of drinking beer on an empty stomach at 8 o’clock in the morning…

May the force be with you...

Had a few days socialising in Halifax, including seeing the new Star Wars film at the Vue multiplex cinema in town. It was… OK. It seems odd to be ambivalent about a film that cost $200 million to make, but in three weeks I will have forgotten all about it. I didn’t really care about the characters and the po-faced space politics: the good guys versus the totalitarian forces of darkness. There were a few lighter moments, thankfully…

New Year’s Eve: another midwinter ‘celebration’ I’m happy to sit out… It’s a countdown to nothing. I can’t see the point of celebrating an ‘event’ which has all the significance of watching your car’s mileometer tick over from 99,999 to 100,000. Hey, every day is new. And I’m unimpressed by the awarding of honours to successful people who, by definition, have been handsomely rewarded already…

No particular resolutions… though I hope to enlarge my portfolio of online photographs from 15,000 to 20,000 (won’t happen), and I want to get stuck into my book (will happen)…