one born every minute
It would be nice if the entire day consisted of the fifty minutes before sunrise. The streets are virtually empty, the sun doesn't do that annoying shining-in-your-eyes-even-at-noon thing and I can happily crouch in the gutter next to a puddle without attracting gawp. The only problem would be decided which crop to use. I was going to see how many discarded trees I could get and post them as a collage but gave up when I saw how many there were just within a quarter of a mile of the flat.
After the morning-trundle (and breakfast during which entertainment was provided on the other side of the street by Sweary-Wifey (every fucking second fucking word) and her sidekick The Silent Dawdler) managed to get Nicky up and out by 11 despite it being Sunday to pop down to the Botanics to look at the free bit of the Douglas Gordon exhibition currently at the RSA. Bits of it were quite cool but I was relieved not to have paid any money to see this section. For a Sunday the gardens were relatively deserted. Plenty of blippable things as one might expect but it just meant more cropping and more indecision later on. Being outside on a nice sunny day in winter is good for restoring one's faith in one's camera's abilities (especially with handheld stuff) but it's still getting replaced and is now officially for sale if anyone wants it. Despite all my complaining it is a reasonably good camera, suitable for both still and action photography.
Hope everyone had a nice weekend. Back to work tomorrow after my week off doing flat-work rather than job-work; it's almost the same but featured a shorter lunchbreak and more dust.