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bronwen hyde - photographer

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how come u don't call me anymore?

how come u don't call me anymore?

May 20, 2025
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 14 May 2025].

Egads! Where did April go?

I had a sitting with my regulars near the start of the month, then the ten-day sitting with Dudley and Betsy mentioned in my last post.

My birthday fell just before Easter this year. Usually, I spend it visiting a gallery and/or photo editing. I had thought it would be a sedate affair, editing photos with the doggos for company, as I was away from home.

However, two friends took up my invitation to visit me and the puppers on separate occasions over Easter. I also had an in-person catch-up with a client I'm designing a website for the day before my birthday, which I'd booked as annual leave.

So, I was spoilt for social engagements and spoiled myself with cheese from The Bishop's Cave (as you do). A Cornish Yarg wrapped in nettles (I decided to try the original version, as it had been recommended to me previously, but I'll indulge in the garlic version next time!), a truffle Brie, and a Scottish Blue Murder, formerly known as 'Blue Monday', for those who are wondering.

Since I returned from Bishop's Stortford, I visited The World of Tim Burton exhibition at the Design Museum with a friend. I had another sitting with my regulars, which included three more social engagements, two of which were a little last-minute (and one was virtual and lasted over five hours!)

Then last weekend, I travelled to Brighton to catch up with friends and meet a kitteh called Chilli, whom I'll be sitting for the second half of June.

I'm doing daily visits with a local senior kitteh this weekend, and planning to visit The Face Magazine: Culture Shift exhibition at the National Portrait Gallery with a friend. Otherwise, I'm at home for a stretch, which is nice.

Aside from cheese and socialising, I've been dealing with some health stuff (nothing major), including learning about predictive genetic testing, working my day job, completing over 365 days of learning Welsh on Duolingo, trying to get back up to date with my life admin (more sinking than swimming, it sometimes feels) and trying not to wear my fingertips to the bones with doom scrolling.

I already have photos edited for posts later in the week, but I hope to spend a large portion of this week/end editing more and creating other pieces to share with you.

Oh, and this photo is from my visit to the Isle of Portland in September last year. Nice light on that telephone box.

If you feel inclined, let me know how you're doing in the comments x

In isle of portland, england, life Tags telephone box, red, hill, houses, architecture, fence, grass, green, sunlight, blue sky, clouds, travel, fortuneswell, isle of portland, dorset, england
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a cornish churchyard (st senara’s churchyard, zennor, cornwall, england, 2025)

a cornish churchyard

March 23, 2025
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 17 March 2025].

So, in the end, I didn't manage more than the first day of this year's Februllage.

I didn't start the 100 Days Project, and though it's still within the 100 days, I'll be honest and say there's no way on Science's green earth I'll manage it this year.

I'm somewhat disappointed on both counts. Unfortunately, my art practice is the one area that has had to be deprioritised for a while. But, at the same time, I'm not giving myself a hard time about it because, sometimes, that's life.

I did get away for five nights to Cornwall with a friend and my "proper" camera, so I've not been idle with my art. I'm just a little restricted in editing and sharing my work because my day job, pet-sitting and life have left me exhausted a lot lately.

I also spent some time (finally!) cutting up magazines for future collages during February. And I have more to hand to cut up while I'm sitting my floofy friend, Jilly.

In Cornwall, visiting Tate St Ives, I discovered a selection of books explicitly designed to be cut up to create collages. So, I spent money on those instead of replacing my dilapidated trainers.

Towards the beginning of the year, I received an email about my Etihad Guest points expiring at the end of January. That prompted me to check my balance with Emirates Skywards (zero) and Qantas.

It turned out that I had a not insignificant number of Qantas Frequent Flyer (QFF) points that would expire at the end of February if I didn't use some or all of them or take a new flight. Not enough to get me even one way to Australia. Perhaps enough to get me one way to Singapore or the UAE. But enough to get me a return flight to a variety of places in mainland Europe I haven't previously visited or Iceland (which has long been high on my list of places to visit).

However, visiting Iceland solo is problematic, as I don't drive, and it's one of those places you seem to have to unless you know someone there who drives to act as a tour guide or you want to fork out money for tours.

But there were a couple of places on my list where I know people who live there. Or people who are from there and return to visit family semi-regularly.

Sicily was on my list, as I missed attending a former flatmate's wedding there in 2018, as I was broke after returning from being a bridesmaid in New Zealand. However, her next planned visit is in high summer, when I would die from the heat if I did not already have bookings for sittings in London and Bishop's Stortford.

On further investigation, visiting some of my other preferences in mainland Europe didn't make sense as neither Qantas nor their partner airlines fly direct, so I might spend 4+ hours in the air when I could pay for a cheap fare to be there in one to three hours.

But also on my list was Finland, where my lovely friend, Pia, lives. And Qantas fly directly to Helsinki, with reward flights within my QFF points balance.

So, the day before I travelled to Cornwall, I booked return flights from Heathrow to Helsinki in mid-September. I still have an itinerary to plan, but I'll spend some time in the capital and some in Tampere, where Pia lives.

I'm very excited to catch up with Pia in her homeland for once. We met virtually and in person when she was living in London and have caught up most times that she's been back since she returned to Finland.

I'm also excited to see a new country, visit mainland Europe for the first time since September 2014, and go over seas (excluding Australia via airports in other countries - my home country doesn't count as overseas travel) for the first time since 2018 (technically, I've been out of the country (England) at least three times since the pandemic, but not overseas).

I'm always nervous about making plans to visit friends in other countries. Many will enthusiastically invite when it's hypothetical but might not be so welcoming when you ask about suitable dates and discuss more solid travel plans.

It's unlikely that I'll stay with Pia for practical reasons (which I knew in advance and I didn't want to impose anyway), but she's happy to have someone follow through on their threat to visit her in her home country :)

Meanwhile, Phil and I visited the mermaid in St Senara's Church in Zennor, Cornwall, after walking from Sennen Cove to Land's End and back the day before we returned to London. We caught some lovely light in the churchyard (as you can see in the photo above) before venturing into The Tinner's Arms for some tea (for Phil) and a half pint of Cornish cider (for me).

More posts about my Cornwall wanderings are to come as soon as possible!

In sepulchre, death, life, england Tags grave, graves, trees, green, stone wall, blue sky, lens flare, sunlight, shadows, spring, death, churchyard, field, st senara's church, cornwall, zennor, england
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untitled #1

china rose (white)

February 7, 2025
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 1 February 2025].

A very belated Happy New Year to you, my dear patrons.

I'm sorry (once again) for the radio silence.

The end of 2024 was voraciously consumed with move-related activity and kittehs, leaving me no time to assemble my usual end-of-year wrap-up blog.

I still intend to write and share one, but I have many photos to edit to bring it together, and January has somehow already disappeared into the rearview. How is that possible?

I hope 2025 will be a better one for me. And for you, if 2024 was hard.

untitled #3

The state of the world worries me deeply. In case you haven't heard, the Doomsday Clock ticked one second closer to midnight with the swearing-in of Drumpf as the 47th US President, the ongoing wars around this globe we call Earth, and the continued inaction of many world leaders in tackling climate change.

I'll be honest: it's hard to have hope some days.

But I do have hope. And plans. And I continue to see the beauty in the world and the people in my life despite everything.

I hope you do, too.

untitled #2

I would tell you all about the plans and inspiration whirling around my head. But I feel like, every time I mention my creative plans, I must push them aside while I fight another personal metaphorical fire.

So, instead, I will simply promise to share as much as I can when I can and hope you'll stay with me.

In the meantime, hopefully, these photographs of China roses I found in the front garden of a home in Grove Park last June will remind you of the beauty in the world.

When it all feels overwhelming, stop, take a deep breath and smell the roses.

In a floral tribute, minutiae, london, life Tags china roses, roses, flowers, buds, petals, white, pink, leaves, green, branches, plants, shrubs, blue sky, blue, clouds, sunshine, shadows, grove park, london, england
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dog daisy afternoon

dog daisy afternoon

October 4, 2024
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 28 September 2024].

I promise you, I've been taking more photos than you can poke a stick at.

However, I haven't had a chance to edit anything for weeks, so I'm sharing this photograph from the same client's garden I shared my last two from, edited about 20 days ago.

As I highlighted in a previous post, I had a weekend with my regulars from 6-10 September.

I had a delightful three-night stay (and lots of cheese with ash and flowers!) (that doesn't sound so appetising when I type it out) from 12-15 September on the Isle of Portland in Dorset with my fellow photographer and friend, Phil.

And I spent the better part of last week playing tour guide to Dad and Cheryl while they were in London.

I can't complain about any of it.

That's not to say - for reasons I won't go into here and now - that it's all been smooth sailing and that I'm not physically, emotionally and mentally exhausted. I am.

Between Dad and Cheryl's continuing travels, trying to find a new flatmate and three sittings in October, I don't think my stress levels will drop much.

Despite that, I hope to share photos that aren't flowers with you from my recent travels very soon, some other creative outputs, and maybe even catch up on some sleep.

We'll see.

I hope you're all staying well, hugging those you love and doing what you love as much as possible.

These beauties are Leucanthemum vulgare, also known as ox-eye daisy, dog daisy and marguerite.

As with many of the flowers I've been drawn to photograph, dog daisies are deemed an invasive species in many places, including my native country.

However, ox-eye daisies are widely recognised as the national flower in Denmark, and apparently, "the unopened flower buds can be marinated and used in a similar way to capers". Mmm... capers.

Cows don't fancy eating them, though. And those that do "produce milk with an undesirable flavour".

In a floral tribute, minutiae, london, life Tags daisy, dog daisy, ox-eye daisy, marguerite, flowers, buds, petals, white, yellow, leaves, stems, green, nature, garden, hornsey, london, england
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crocosmia

crocosmia

August 30, 2024
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 27 August 2024].

It's been a hectic couple of months.

I've barely been home since the afternoon of Thursday, 4 July.

I pulled an all-nighter with a friend of over 24 years and a friend of fewer than 12 hours to watch the Tories finally thrown out of government after 14 years.

The following day, I went to sit my regulars in Bromley.

On the afternoon of 9 July, I went home for a night, with some back and forth and final prep for a sitting with new clients, Crikey (Cockapoo), Lottie (Staffy Shitzu cross), Dexter (tuxedo cat), Sammy (tabby cat) and Rebecca (fish) starting the following afternoon.

They were a delight, as was Julia's garden, where I photographed this crocosmia.

I managed to give myself food poisoning from eating black beans too long after opening, which wiped me out for a good nine hours or so the night before the sitting ended. I haven't had stomach cramps that bad since I was a tween, and I hope I never do again.

I had two nights at home before spending about a week and a half with my arch nemesis, Mia (tabby cat), in Crofton Park. She's mellowed somewhat with age (she's three now), but she's still very standoffish and swipey with everyone except her cat-mother.

I finally managed to ogle and photograph the exterior of houses at Segal Close and Walters Way, though I'm sorry to find that homes in Walters Way will be open this year as part of Open House London on a day I'm not in London.

I had another couple of nights at home before sitting my favourite, very good boy, Frank (Cockapoo), for about a week and a half.

Whilst sitting him, I managed to completely miss a step with my foot between the bedroom and bathroom and take two steps simultaneously with my lower left back, just above my hip, and my left shoulder.

Thankfully, applying ice and going back to bed for a couple of hours with Frank as my nursemaid, followed by a dose of ibuprofen, meant I minimised the bruising, and we could still go out for our morning walk.

The next day was less successful, as I woke with a sore neck, bruised shoulder and a dull headache and couldn't take Frank out. We did manage a sedate afternoon walk once the painkillers had taken the edge off and allowed me to move my left arm more freely.

The following day - a previously planned day of annual leave - my injuries had improved, and I could take Frank with me to meet Scott at the Railway Fields Nature Reserve by Harringay Green Lanes Overground Station as planned.

Frank was ecstatic to have a short bus journey, make a new friend, explore a new green space (albeit on a lead), take a short train journey, and spend a little time at the Great Northern Railway Tavern whilst Scott and I had a couple of pints and a long natter, some of which about the Welsh language I've been learning.

I went straight from sitting Frank to my regulars plus one.

The new addition, a hamster called Karl-Heinz (Charlie, for short), is very cute and amicable but keen on chewing at the bars of his cage. As he's nocturnal (like me), and his cage is quite close to where I sit to work and do creative things while I sit my regulars, I found this quite stressful, but his hamster-mother is pursuing avenues to make him more comfortable in his home (or rather, mansion).

I had another night at home before heading up to Bishop's Stortford, where I am now, to sit Betsy (Cockapoo) and Dudley (Maltipoo). Both are very good-natured and sweet puppers, but Dudley was a lockdown pup and has related issues, which means he's very reactive to other dogs and...well, everything.

But we've managed two weeks together and have another to go, and I love the snuggles we have, the fact they love sleep as much as I do (when I finally do go to bed), and their little quirks (just maybe with less barking ;) ).

My friend, Khanisa, also enjoyed meeting them, and we managed an enjoyable in-person catch-up on Saturday despite the persistent rain. I had a positive virtual catch-up with Dad in the wee hours yesterday morning and a good telephone catch-up with Phil yesterday evening.

This afternoon, on our last Bank Holiday before Christmas and after almost two weeks in the town, I managed to get out and about with my camera for a photo walk from where I'm sitting the pups, down along the town's edge to Castle Park (the remains of Waytemore Castle), along the Stort Navigation (the canalised section of the River Stort that runs through town), then back through town via the supermarket.

I'll share at least one photo from my walk with you in the next couple of days; all going to plan.

I head home next Tuesday. I have three nights at home before I head down to stay with my regulars.

Then, I'll have two nights at home before heading to the Isle of Portland in Dorset for a long weekend of photography with Phil. We've found a lovely Airbnb on the island to use as a base, and it promises to be a great place to explore with our cameras.

Dad and Cheryl arrive the following week, so I'll be playing tour guide with them and sightseeing around London.

I have a week of 'downtime' (or at least time without sittings or visitors) at the end of September, then three sittings in October before things quiet down a bit more in the lead-up to Christmas.

In amongst all that, I have to do a thorough clean of my flat (with my current flatmate's help), try to downsize my stuff (in progress and tougher than it seems), find a new flatmate, and try to catch up on photo editing and other creative outputs (I had hoped the bank holiday weekend would have helped with the latter, but I had to prioritise cleaning dog puke out of bedding and some other bits yesterday).

On the positive side, the first Friday I was with Frank, a neighbour offered an early 2015 Macbook Air for free to anyone who might want it and could reinstall the OS to make use of it. I saw the post immediately after shared and nabbed it for myself.

It's a little slow, can't run the latest versions of everything, can't run InDesign, and it's only a 13" model. But it can run most things to the level I need when away, and most importantly, it can connect with my primary external drive, so it's been perfect for three weeks away from home where it's completely impractical (specifically, due to expense) to bring my iMac.

Hopefully, it'll serve my purpose for six to twelve months. And I think it's demonstrated to me so far that - as long as I'm just looking for a portable machine, not a replacement for my iMac - a MacBook Air (vs a Macbook Pro) is a practical option to take away alongside my work laptop.

Thanks, as always, for sticking around through this slow period here (because of my busy period outside Patreon) x

In a floral tribute, minutiae, london, life Tags crocosmia, flowers, petals, stamen, orange, yellow, leaves, stems, green, garden, nature, pet-sitting, travel, life, hornsey, london, england
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glasgow eyes [merchants house, glasgow, scotland, 2024]

glasgow eyes

April 16, 2024
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 10 April 2024].

For my final* trip courtesy of Avanti West Coast (AWC), I knew that, without a doubt, I wanted to return to Scotland. Because a) I wanted to return to Scotland after 13 years and b) I intended to get as much bang for my buck as possible with my complimentary tickets (because, of course).

I've visited Edinburgh three times, off the top of my head (I'm not counting passing through on my way to Arbroath in 2011). I attended the various festivals** in August 2000 and 2001 and returned to visit friends and revisit the festivals in August 2011.

However, I hadn't previously been to Glasgow.

Well, technically, I had. Dad's journal from my folks' visit to the UK in 2001 states, "Continued north on A737 through Dalry, Beith, and Johnstone on the M8 which is elevated for most of its way through Glasgow providing a good view over the city". That was late April, 23 years ago.

untitled #209 [merchants house, glasgow, scotland, 2024]

At least one friend had told me I should visit the city, and they rated it above Edinburgh. Admittedly, that was back when said friend and I regularly frequented gigs and nightclubs, but I was still keen to visit Edinburgh's "ugly sister"***.

A different friend was surprised I chose Glasgow. He warned me that, when visiting, he found it was "kinda just a place to live"; not like Edinburgh, which he'd expected. And, in some ways, it is. It's far less "pretty" and touristy than Edinburgh, but it did not disappoint.

The rain was not ideal, but if you've been to Edinburgh in festival season, as I did three years (two in a row, both camping just south of the city), you know that even in the Summertime, Edinburgh has its fair share of the wet stuff too.

The Glasgow Necropolis alone was worth the 4.5 to 5-hour train journey each way (even with the 20-minute delay travelling up and the 50-minute delay returning). The inclement weather and strong gusts of wind the first day I visited drove me away before I'd finished my explorations, so I wandered the cemetery for two consecutive afternoons and covered most of its grounds.

I spent the remainder of my first full afternoon absorbing art to escape the rain. I aimed for the Gallery of Modern Art and perused their exhibitions, but they weren't my style. On the way there, I stumbled across Castle Fine Art and the works of Bob Dylan, Billy Connolly and Johnny Depp, among other artists with less celebrity.

A friend I made while completing my residency at Hospitalfield in Arbroath in April/May 2011, John Fairfield, popped over from Dundee for a chinwag, bringing the sunshine with him. I was glad to have thought to message him, as we chatted as though we last met up 13 days - not 13 years - ago.

I captured Glasgow with blue skies while waiting for him to arrive, but the clouds had drawn in again when I returned to the Necropolis. All my photographs from this trip have a blue cast due to "Winter's dull light" (despite now being Spring). I've tried to correct it in these photographs of the Merchants House, but the results are noticeably variable between the three. I hope you'll forgive me.

On my final day, knowing the rain would be even worse than on previous days, I had thought to visit Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum, but I wasn't really in the right mood for it. And I felt it would be remiss not to even glimpse the River Clyde during my time in the city. So, I ventured out again with my camera and held my own with the rain until I could no longer. At which point, I popped into the oldest pub in Glasgow, The Scotia, for a cheeky pint before retiring to my accommodation.

As with Llandudno and Delamere, I took over 4GB of photographs and left inspired and pleased with my stay but aware I only scratched the city's surface.

untitled #205 [merchants house, glasgow, scotland, 2024]

When I booked my trip in mid-January, I had to work around pet-sitting bookings and colleagues' annual leave. I was restricted to booking tickets released by AWC before the date my vouchers expired. Consequently, I'd booked from 2-5 April, which was literally the last possible dates available and meant I hadn't booked for the weekend, as I probably would have if they'd been available.

While others may have felt the current round of train strikes highly inconvenient, they worked in my favour. ASLEF strikes affected all AWC services on Friday, 5 April, when I was due to return to London, so I transferred my booking to a similar service the next day, allowing me an additional day in the city. It did cost me an extra £128 in accommodation for the night. But I considered it money well-spent as I kept my subsistence costs down for each of my three trips and took advantage of free accommodation in exchange for sitting Peter, Mercury and Bowie while exploring Delamere.

I enjoyed my solo travel on all three occasions, and while I occasionally thought, "X would love this", I rarely wished I were travelling with others. I didn't have to stress about what my body was doing because someone else wanted to get an early start. I didn't have to spend excess money on food and drink eating out (I did order in/get room service (at no additional cost) on two occasions - once in Llandudno, once in Glasgow). And, despite my initial nerves about taking my camera out while wandering solo in Glasgow, I felt at home quite quickly on my first full day, and that concern passed.

As much as I loved my travels, I'm happy to be home again for a little while (albeit relatively briefly!) And not to have any pet-sittings until next week.

But I'll be back pet-sitting Francois on Tuesday and Thursday. I'll be in Bromley, sitting my regulars, for at least two nights late in the month. And then off up to Liverpool for work and a day of TOIL exploring that city. Then, a busy month of pet-sitting in May.

No rest for the wicked, eh?

*As mentioned in my previous post about my free journeys, I booked this one second, but chronologically, it was my final free first-class trip.
**The Edinburgh International Film Festival took place in August 2000 and 2001. They moved it to June in 2008.
***My words, I don't know that anyone else refers to Glasgow that way. I say it fondly without malice.
In architecture, urban, glasgow, scotland, life Tags figures, men, women, sculpture, entrance, building, architecture, city, urban, look up, merchants house, glasgow, scotland
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friends in high places [great orme, llandudno, wales, 2024]

friends in high places

March 19, 2024
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 17 March 2024].

I returned home from a week in Llandudno, Wales, on Friday.

After sitting Meg and Mog in Minera in October 2021, the Avanti West Coast (AWC) leg of my journey back to London was cancelled. I contacted them to see if I might be eligible for partial compensation, even though I had a flexible ticket to allow me to catch alternative trains from Chester to London. I arrived only half an hour later than scheduled, though I had to stand in a doorway with my suitcase on an overcrowded train from Stafford to Euston when I'd had a reserved seat on the original train.

They initially issued me two vouchers for free first-class advance single travel anywhere on the AWC network within one year of issue.

Because of my finances and life, I didn't try to book them until the last day they were valid, with fingers firmly crossed I would be able to use them. That's when I found the voucher codes didn't work.

It was an issue on their part, so AWC reissued the vouchers, and they randomly issued me a third voucher. I'm still not entirely sure the third voucher wasn't a mistake, but who am I to argue with free travel?!

untitled #78 [great orme, llandudno, wales, 2024]

Once again, finances and life meant I waited until the last minute to use the vouchers. This time, all vouchers worked the first time.

I booked tickets based on quick searches for accommodation and suitable dates for leave from work, pushing things out as far as possible. I honestly didn't know if I could afford the accommodation for each or even one of them.

Ultimately, for my first trip away, I found a suitable studio flat in a converted house a short walk from the centre of Llandudno (let's be fair: everything in Llandudno is a 'short walk' from the centre) on Airbnb.

As the flat was listed by a company, not an individual, out of curiosity, I looked for it as a direct rental. I found it only slightly cheaper via the Finest Retreats website, but I also found a one-bedroom flat in the same building on their site for the same price.

Green versus blue.

Blue is my favourite colour, and a studio flat was sufficient for my needs.

But the green flat had floral wallpaper. It would allow me to create new wallflowers self-portraits.

You can guess the decision I made.

untitled #80 [great orme, llandudno, wales, 2024]

I shared several mobile photos from my trip on my Instagram during the week. But I have copious photos I took with my Nikon D700 during the week, which I'll share early access here in due course, including the wallflowers self-portraits I took on one of my "rest days" when the weather was not so great.

While staying in Llandudno, I walked the length of Marine Drive, the road that circles Great Orme, a limestone headland jutting out into the Irish Sea just behind where I stayed.

On the first day of walking around Great Orme, I could hear sheep baa-ing above me soon after passing the toll gate. The signage told me to expect sheep and goats along the way and warned me against approaching them.

untitled #61 [great orme, llandudno, wales, 2024]

The first time I heard them, I could only just see them above me (the photograph above).

At a later point, I turned to look back to where I'd come from and saw some sheep on a ledge above the road (as shown in the other three photographs).

A couple and their small child were coming around the curve of the road behind me. I caught the father's eye and gestured to the sheep, thinking he would point them out to his child.

Instead, he responded in a blasé fashion, "Yes, they're everywhere". I mentioned I had heard them further back but could barely see them. He commented on my camera's lens as if my only interest was photographing them.

Maybe he was a local, and it was all in a day's walk for him. Perhaps he was having a trying day.

But I thought to myself (and maybe muttered under my breath) that I hope I never lose my sense of wonder like he had seemed to.

I hope I never find sheep and goats hanging out on a ledge well above my head or below the road on sheer cliffs and grassy outcrops utterly and unspeakably ordinary and uninteresting, even if I lived in a place where I saw it every day.

What a dull life that would be.

In life, llandudno, wales Tags sheep, animals, cliff, cliff face, road, headland, limestone, look up, life, travel, marine drive, great orme, llandudno, wales
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untitled #10

a year later... or thereabouts.

March 1, 2024

So, it's been a year since Mum passed. Well, kind of.

I mean, she died at 06:10 on 1 March 2023 AEDT, but for me, that means her time of death was actually 19:10 GMT on 28 February 2023.

So, for me, that should mean the anniversary of her passing was on 28 February 2024.

Except that this year is a leap year, so 06:10 AEDT on 1 March 2024 was 19:10 GMT on 29 February 2024.

Confused yet?

If I base the anniversary on the date she passed away in Australia (as that's where she was), then I'm posting this late. But it's still only 1 March 2024 here in London, so I guess I get longer to mark the anniversary.

Has anyone noticed I possess a certain sentimentality and a penchant for marking such important dates at precisely the right moment?

Though I didn't have a chance to post about it at either of the potentially recognised moments, it's been on my mind for some time, particularly during the evening on 28 February when it felt like I should acknowledge the passing of a year since her death.

Dad and I acknowledged the anniversary within the hour of her passing on 1 March 2024, his time, in our family WhatsApp chat.

untitled #2

Yesterday afternoon, a little before and a little after my day's sitting with Francois ended, and before I left for my first sitting of the year with my regulars, I edited these two photos to share with this post acknowledging the anniversary.

Although I don't think she had any particular preference for daffodils (I don't remember them appearing often within bouquets she bought or received), her death will now be inextricably linked to them in my mind because of her passing on St David's Day and, in particular, because of her Welsh ancestry.

So, I was already thinking ahead to today when I photographed these two specimens in Frank's backyard the last weekend I sat him in mid-February. Knowing there would be photographs of daffodils as part of my tribute to her this year, as I have access to very few photos of her, and most I've already shared. While thinking ahead to the date and time conundrum as the impact of this leap year had already occurred to me by then.

One thing I didn't get to do while I was visiting Dad was to pore over their photo albums. Two weeks isn't a long time when you're working part-time, sorting through your deceased mother's personal effects and catching up with family you haven't seen in person in about three years.

I didn't know how I would feel one year on. If I'm honest, I still don't.

I mean, there's definitely been a sea of emotions surging around me for the past week or so.

I initially hoped to write my thoughts on the "exact" anniversary (for me). But practical matters had to be dealt with. So, instead, I sort of softly welled up thinking about it without having the time or capacity to put the feelings into words. But knowing I would when I could.

I know it's cliched to say it feels like less than a year, but in the same breath, to say it feels more than a year. But it does.

It's been less than a year since we said goodbye as a family and scattered her ashes.

It's been more than a year since she and I last spoke. Or rather, I spoke to her, as she didn't have many words left by then.

So, the passing of time since her passing has been warped and bent. Though that's not uncommon. I know others feel similarly about the passing of their loved ones, even without the added confusion of leap years interfering with their marking of time.

I wrote a lot about her last year. And I don't doubt I will write more in time. I took photos while visiting my family in Australia that triggered memories, anecdotes, and so forth that I hope to capture in words. Some I'll capture for myself. Others I'll share.

In the meantime, as Spring drags its feet returning to England, the daffodils rush in and bloom on the verges and traffic islands, in suburban gardens, central London parks, cemeteries, the local supermarket, the vase in the entry to our building placed there by my Welsh neighbour who lives downstairs. And in my mind.

For Mum. In her memory.

In life, death, family, a floral tribute, minutiae Tags daffodil, flower, plant, white, yellow, stem, leaves, green, nature, garden, life, death, family, mourning, st david's day, hornsey, london, england
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mary the beloved

mary the beloved

January 28, 2024
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 21 January 2024].

Hello, my lovelies.

It's been a while since I wrote you a rambling, diary-like post and for that, I'm sorry. (Though you may not be ;) )

Things have been busy with me, so many times I have time to edit a photo or four, but it's been a while since I've been able to sit down and write creatively or even just to write to give you an update.

The obvious exception is my end-of-year post. And, looking back, it seems it's been about a month since I wrote something more than a cursory caption about what I'm sharing.

I've been at home more the past few months. Post-summer, pet sittings dropped off, which was welcome. As much as I love all the kittehs and doggos I sit, it was nice to be more settled for a time.

While the homes I sit pets in are always like a home away from home (and the pet parents always make me feel welcome in their homes), I still live out of a suitcase, and I don't always have access to my raw photographs for editing and/or an acceptable screen to edit photos on.

I finally had some paid annual leave in November. I intended it to be a staycation*, but I put the word out to a couple of photographer friends and some family, and suddenly, I had three photo walks in my lap, two nights away, and a day trip out of town. My plans for cleaning, decluttering and downsizing went out the window quite quickly. I'm not unhappy about that, but it means those tasks are still on my to-do list as I write this.

Since then, my day-job brain has been addled and exhausted by piecing together functionality created long before I joined the organisation and trying to mesh that with new functionality to ensure what our web agency has created is fit for purpose. It's a challenge (which I usually love) but has often left me feeling like I've pulled that loose thread on an item of clothing, and I wish I hadn't.

The new year has started on a positive note.

There was a day trip to meet a friend in Milton Keynes. A weekend in Bishop's Stortford, reuniting with a former landlady and her family and meeting two sweet doggos I'll sit in summer - a Maltipoo called Dudley and a Cockapoo called Betsy. And (what is now) yesterday, meeting a sweet but flatulent, snorting French bulldog called Francois (naturally), who lives locally and whom I'll be sitting semi-regularly over the coming months.

I'm somewhat wary of speaking out loud about my travel plans for the first quarter of the year, given my previous travel plans fell through for reasons beyond my control.

But I've booked (free(!) first-class return) tickets using the vouchers reissued last January (and a bonus one that snuck into my inbox!), and my manager has signed off my annual leave.

I still need to book my accommodation, which I'm a bit nervous my bank balance will struggle with, but I plan to visit Llandudno in Wales for a week in early to mid-March. Manchester for a long weekend in late March. And Glasgow for four days in early April.

I booked my tickets at the eleventh hour before my vouchers expired. I could only book as far ahead as early April, so it's all a bit hectic over the next few months between my travels, work and pet-sitting, which will start to pick up again from next weekend.

I'm looking forward to returning to north Wales, a bit further along the Avanti West Coast network than Wrexham, where I travelled to and on to Minera in late October 2021 to sit Meg and Mog for Jo and Becky in the old vicarage. I'm hoping to see more of Wales generally in future, especially returning to the south where Mum's family came from and where I haven't visited since Christmas 1991.

It will be my first visit to Edinburgh's "lesser" sister, Glasgow, but I'm looking forward to the Necropolis and exploring the city and its museums, galleries and botanical gardens.

It will be a return to Manchester, where I've visited at least three times. It seemed a sufficiently substantial distance to justify a first-class ticket but a short enough journey for a long weekend (and, as I've been there before if I have to sacrifice one of the trips due to my finances not covering accommodation, I can live with that).

I thought about visiting Liverpool, which I think I've only driven through. But nothing drew me to Tate Liverpool during the dates I was looking at, and I hoped to catch up with a friend while in Manchester (though we'll see if that will still come to pass).

untitled #70 [st mary’s church, minera, wales, 2021]

So, with Wales on my mind and recent fruit and flower photographs captured in Jo and Becky's backyard in their current home in Cotton End, I thought I'd share some more photos from St Mary's Church in Minera in October 2021. I have so many I still need to edit and share, including some more puffball photos to come in a few weeks.

The light after the rain was just delicious and so wonderful for me to experience and capture the graves in the churchyard.

It was a magical Monday morning. If only all my Monday mornings started with such beautiful, inspiring, contemplative and creative visions and experiences. Followed by exploring a new place (or even a familiar place is welcome), some exercise in the fresh air (a mixture of strenuous and gentle), a refreshing pint of cider in a welcoming pub at the end of a productive day, cheese, and cuddles with a kitteh or a doggo.

I'd almost** become a morning person for that shit ;)

So, that's where I'm up to as we close in on the end of January (seriously?! Already?!)

What are you guys looking forward to this year? I'd love you to tell me in the comments x

* My definition of a staycation is a holiday when you stay at home, doing things locally and maybe doing some DIY or just hanging out and reading books. But it's become recognised as holidaying in your home country instead of abroad.

** I'm not fooling anyone, am I? But I'd probably get my butt out of bed earlier more regularly. Probably.
In sepulchre, life, wales, death Tags grave, graves, headstone, headstones, inscription, patterns, green, yellow, sunlight, shadows, after the rain, blue sky, trees, churchyard, death, st mary's churchyard, minera, wales
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london calling

london calling

January 18, 2024

To celebrate my thirteenth Londonversary, here's a photo of the feature of this fair city I spent the most time photographing in 2023: the New River (not new, not a river).

In this case, captured in Palmers Green.

In london, life Tags phone book, aqueduct, water, reflection, trees, londonversary, new river path, new river, palmers green, london, england
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hyde family © early 1980s vogue photo (not that vogue…)

loss, family, friends, photo walks, cats and dogs

December 31, 2023

It seems odd to say 2023 was one of the better years for me recently, despite Mum passing on 1 March.

Realistically, I’d probably started mourning her loss in March 2018, when I believed that would be the last time I’d see her in person. It was a mixed blessing to have one more opportunity in October 2019. But I knew when I left Tasmania at the end of that visit that would be the last time.

By the time she passed, we hadn’t even been able to have Skype calls for about a year and a half. And our calls hadn’t involved actual conversation for a long time before that.

So, her passing was more of a continuation and perhaps the closing chapter of my mourning.

Don’t get me wrong: I still semi-regularly well up and have a good cry while thinking about her. But it’s not been as intense as it would have been without her prolonged descent into dementia and multiple false alarms to prepare me for the final eventuality.

her final destination [buttons beach, ulverstone, tasmania, australia, 2023]

We said our farewells, and Mum set off on her final journey on 18 June 2023, when Dad, Robert, Peter and I could finally be in one place.

An old friend, Dee, messaged me soon after to tell me the ocean currents may have taken her to New Zealand.

dad reviving his david bellamy impersonation [tasmanian arboretum, eugenana, tasmania, australia, 2023]

It was the first chance we had to be in one place as a family to say goodbye to Mum, but it was probably also the first time the four of us had been together since early 2007.

john hyde [sunnybank hills, brisbane, queensland, australia, 2023]

With family, loss and the passing of time on my mind, I predominantly spent my month in Australia catching up with family, especially those I hadn’t seen in far too long.

My uncle, John, is one member of my extended family I’ve managed to see on all of my visits since leaving Australia in January 2011. But I enjoyed spending another few days of quality time with him, talking about family and family history, debating politics and catching up with his partner, Verna. And I managed to set him up on WhatsApp so I can call him regularly at no cost.

with the lodwicks © 2023 rhys lodwick [booragoon, perth, western australia, australia, 2023]

My Mum’s side of the family has been harder to catch up with over the years, mainly due to geography. For most of my childhood and teens, they lived in Calgary. And when they returned to Australia, they settled in Perth.

I met Rhys (pictured at left, taking the group selfie) when I was about 11, but I didn’t meet my other cousin, his twin, David (centre back), until Rhys’ wedding about ten years later, in 1998.

I’m ashamed to say that was the last time I’d seen Rhys and my uncle, Graham, until this year. Although, I stayed with my aunt, Patricia, in 2002, when I returned to Australia after my first stint of living in the UK and caught up with David then. Christopher (back right) wasn’t yet born.

So, it was lovely to spend a couple of days getting to know Rhys better while he played tour guide, to spend a few days with his family, and to spend an evening with Mum’s family.

I would have liked to have spent more time with them, but I had so much to cram into just a month. Hopefully, I’ll be able to spend more time next time.

And I caught up with Rhys, his wife, Jenny, and their daughter, Georgia, for an evening when they were in London a few months later.

untitled #20 [sunnybank hills, brisbane, queensland, australia, 2023]

In addition to spending time with family, I was pleased to catch up with my first-ever best friend, Narelle, for the first time in around 39 years. And to spend time with Lisa and Sarah.

untitled #40 [west ulverstone beach, ulverstone, tasmania, australia, 2023]

It was a pleasure, as always, to spend time talking and dining with Victoria while I was in Tasmania, including a rain-sodden wander on West Ulverstone Beach.

untitled #89 [tasmanian arboretum, eugenana, tasmania, australia, 2023]

We wandered around the Tasmanian Arboretum with Cheryl after scattering Mum’s ashes; just what I needed.

I did spy a platypus and took some photos, but they may need quite a lot of enlargement to confirm that!

frilled neck lizard [mindeerup, perth, western australia, australia, 2023]

I took many photos of Perth in the glorious weather as Rhys played tour guide.

Here’s one of a frilled neck lizard sculpture in the Mindeerup section of south Perth, part of Karl Kep Ngoornd-iny (Fire and Water Dreaming) by Yondee Shane Hansen.

In addition to my family, who offered up beds and couches to me during my stay, I want to thank everyone who could make the time to catch up during my (relatively) short time in Melbourne.

It was lovely to catch up with Jess, Preethi and Feih for drinks one night. Ian, David, Pete and Corey the next night. Brunch with Richard and his daughter, Sienna, dinners with David and Anthony, and a pint and chips with Jason.

(I hope I haven’t forgotten anyone!)

anthony horan [springvale botanical cemetery, springvale, melbourne, victoria, australia, 2023]

Special thanks to Amy and Chris for shuttling me and Richard to Springvale Botanical Cemetery to visit Anthony Horan’s grave and to Richard for the engaging natter on the train (and apologies for getting us on the wrong train!)

sunshine on grief [brookwood cemetery, brookwood, surrey, england, 2023]

Usually, my visits to cemeteries are for purely photographic purposes. But this year, I found myself in cemeteries to visit friends.

That’s how I came to be in Brookwood Cemetery, the largest cemetery in the UK. It used to have its own dedicated railway, including first-class carriages for the dead, running direct from the London Necropolis Railway Station in Waterloo.

The same station still serves it. But now it’s just the living commuting by train from the main Waterloo Station.

(I knew about the cemetery and the railway well before my visit because of Catharine Arnold’s book, Necropolis: London and its Dead, which I read many years ago. I’ll return for a more leisurely photo walk in future).

I did, of course, also visit cemeteries for purely photographic purposes.

In chronological order, I wandered the following cemeteries:

untitled #48 [plaistow cemetery, bromley, london, england, 2023]

Plaistow Cemetery in Bromley (on my birthday)

untitled #180 [brockley and ladywell cemeteries, brockley, london, england, 2023]

Brockley Cemetery (part of Brockley and Ladywell Cemeteries)

untitled #277 [brockley and ladywell cemeteries, ladywell, london, england, 2023]

Ladywell Cemetery (part of Brockley and Ladywell Cemeteries)

untitled #63 [london road cemetery, bromley, london, england, 2023]

London Road Cemetery in Bromley

untitled #101 [bromley hill cemetery, bromley, london, england, 2023]

Bromley Hill Cemetery

untitled #66 [paines lane cemetery, pinner, london, england, 2023]

Paines Lane Cemetery in Pinner

untitled #199 [pinner new cemetery, pinner, london, england, 2023]

Pinner New Cemetery (probably the worst maintained cemetery I’ve come across, and I include those maintained within the concept of ‘managed neglect’ in that comparison)

untitled #116 [hither green cemetery, hither green, london, england, 2023]

And Hither Green Cemetery, which I’ll have to revisit in 2024, as I arrived about 15 minutes before they closed for the day.

All this talk of death and loss may have you concerned. Never fear: there’s life in the old girl yet.

untitled #115 [birmingham, west midlands, england, 2023]

I didn’t travel as far afield as I’d hoped this year, but I did spend a day wandering Birmingham, its canals, and marvelling at the city’s Spaghetti Junction with fellow photographer Phil Ivens one Sunday.

henley bridge [henley-on-thames, oxfordshire, england, 2023]

I spent a lovely weekend with my distant cousins in Uxbridge, including a day in Henley-on-Thames.

hambleden cinema [hambleden, buckinghamshire, england, 2023]

And Hambleden.

the ashley-joneses and bevans [uxbridge, london, england, 2023]

Once again, it was lovely to spend time with family members I don’t see often enough (though there’s less excuse with these guys as, apart from Malcolm, we live in the same city, albeit on almost opposite sides!)

untitled #104 [new river path, palmers green, london, england, 2023]

I topped and tailed the year by continuing my photo walks along the New River Path.

In February, Sarah joined me to walk from where we left off last time, in Bowes Park, to Palmers Green.

untitled #45 [new river path, palmers green, london, england, 2023]

And in November, Scott joined me for the next stretch from Palmers Green to Enfield.

untitled #35 [grove park nature reserve, grove park, london, england, 2023]

And, on Boxing Day, I took what I thought was a scenic shortcut through Grove Park Nature Reserve, aiming for Hither Green Cemetery, only to find the footbridge as part of the Railway Children Walk was closed for maintenance.

dougal

And now, the part of my annual wrap-up you’ve all been waiting for (drum roll).

Here’s the roll call of the new kittehs (and doggos!) I sat this year.

I sat 17 cats, 11 of which were new clients (though two were new kittehs for existing human clients).

I sat three doggos, all new clients and all lovely beasties. Unfortunately, Dougal (pictured above) has now crossed the Rainbow Bridge, passing around the day I left for Australia.

I sat ten fish, four of which were new clients. Six have now gone to fish heaven (only one on my watch, purloined from its pond by a cat or a fox).

jilly

Jilly arrived in Bounds Green as Lottie’s successor.

oscar

Oscar joined my three regulars in Bromley.

frank

Frank, who loves to cuddle (which is a good thing, as he’s so smooshable!)

pebbles

Pebbles, an old soul.

treacle

Treacle, who is as sweet as…

milo

Milo loves a good game of tug-o-war.

mango

Mango can be entertained on a shoestring (literally) and loves a lap.

I visited her four times over three days in the summer. She knew exactly when I was about to leave and when to curl up cutely on my lap.

bobby

Bobby with his “come hither and rub my belly” gaze.

cino

Cino, Bobby’s less aloof brother.

These two were hilarious to listen to when they chatted while they played with their toys.

simone’s fish

Bobby and Cino had some fishy friends (two of the three pictured).

george

George, a cheeky tabby who lives next door to my regulars.

lottie

And Lottie, George’s housemate.

I visited these two thrice daily one weekend while sitting my regulars.

david

And my newest and youngest clients, at 14 weeks, David.

stevie

And Stevie.

I slept in someone else’s bed for 160 nights this year (no, not like that).

Between pet-sitting, a weekend visit with my cousins, and my visit to Australia, I was away from home almost 44% of this year!

I loved it, but I will admit I missed my bed, iMac and my own room (though not the scaffolding surrounding our flat for about six months).

The coming year looks quite busy already, but it will be interesting to see whether it will be more or less busy than this year. I already have four new doggo and two new kitteh clients scheduled over the summer.

Before I wish you all a happy new year and the best of everything for 2024, I want to thank all my friends and family who have been there for me during 2023 when I really needed it (and, in many cases, every year before that).

I hope I have been and/or will be there for you when you need it.

Love to you all for 2024 xx

In life, family, death, photography, sepulchre, birmingham, brisbane, bromley, cats, england, london, other people's pussies, perth, tasmania, other people's puppies, dogs Tags loss, death, mother, family, friends, travel, photography, cemeteries, cats, dogs, pet-sitting, cat-sitting, dog-sitting, ulverstone, tasmanian arboretum, sunnybank hills, brisbane, west ulverstone beach, tasmania, mindeerup, perth, graves, springvale botanical cemetery, brookwood cemetery, plaistow cemetery, brockley and ladywell cemeteries, london road cemetery, bromley hill cemetery, paines lane cemetery, pinner new cemetery, hither green cemetery, birmingham canals, henley-on-thames, hambleden, new river, new river path, grove park nature reserve, australia, england
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anthony horan [springvale botanical cemetery, springvale, victoria, australia, 2023]

happy birthday, anthony

November 4, 2023

This year's visit to Australia was predominantly about family and officially saying goodbye to Mum.

But alongside that and reuniting with some wonderful friends, I also had the chance to (officially) say goodbye to one of my oldest friends, Anthony Horan.

My thanks go out to Anthony's brother, Chris, and mutual longtime friends, Amy and Richard, for accompanying me and making the visit possible.

It was lovely to finally meet Chris and reunite with Amy and Richard after so long.

It was a sombre visit. Rain threatened. There was much mud on the 'lawn'.

But there was also cheeky humour amongst us, in keeping with the sort of comments and jokes Anthony would have made if he'd been able to reply to us as we stood by the grave his ashes share with his father's remains.

When I visited, there was a temporary marker for Anthony and his dad. I'm sure when I visit next it will look different (if it doesn't already).

I've been catching up on sharing iPhone photos from my trip on Instagram, and this morning, I reached my photos from that day. I thought I would share them on the second anniversary of his passing in January, oblivious to the date.

But, when I remembered later in the day it was his birthday in Australia, it was obvious today was the day to share.

It's currently his birthday in Melbourne and London.

So, the penguins and I are raising a toast to an old friend.

Love and miss you, Anthony. Always. xx

In sepulchre, death, life, melbourne Tags grave, grave marker, plaque, cross, weatherworn, grass, green, after the rain, friendship, winter, springvale botanical cemetery, springvale, melbourne, victoria, australia
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drinking birds [fremantle ports, fremantle, western australia, 2023]

drinking birds

October 3, 2023
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 26 September 2023].

A semi-itinerant lifestyle has impacted my ability to keep my Patreon as regularly updated as I'd like, so thank you for sticking around.

I have one more sitting this month where I won't have access to a decent monitor to edit photos. But then I'll be down to much more irregular sittings until February, so I'll edit my heart out as much as possible while I'm more settled.

Since late March, I've barely been home.

And when I have been, I've been wrestling with flat-related shenanigans, life admin and such.

Please don't mention the scaffolding that has encased our building since late March and prevents me from opening my bedroom window more than four inches. Or the boxes of books occupying most of the space on one side of my bed since early August, as I can't yet replace them on the bookcase while we wait for a section of paint in the lounge to be retouched (it's located directly above the bookcase).

The prints I previously had hanging in the lounge have also reverted to an inconvenience, as the repainting required their hooks to be removed. I'm reluctant to replace them on the walls. For reasons I won't go into here.

I'm trying to locate appropriate wrapping to stow them safely in existing packaging in our lounge in a way that infringes less on our living space.

On a related note: if you know anyone who would like to purchase framed prints from my alternate worlds series or selected work from other series (largely self-portraiture), please send them my way...

In addition to the times I've been away from home with only my work laptop, I've had two periods of about two weeks in May and August without my iMac due to required repairs, which hasn't helped.

As much as I love the furry personalities I've been sitting so much this year, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't looking forward to sleeping in my own bed for more than a few consecutive nights. To work at my own desk on a quality monitor with full access to my files.

In addition to the remaining sittings already booked for the next few months, I need to arrange other sittings and/or accommodation to take advantage of my rail vouchers, which will expire by mid-January.

But those will be trips with plenty of time for creativity, photography and being inspired.

I look forward to taking some proper annual leave after almost two years. (No, let's be honest, it will be four years in mid-November...)

But, on a positive note, I've been working on a new project inspired by a book a friend gifted me. And I've continued taking photos (not just of cats).

I look forward to sharing those with you soon!

In urban, perth, western australia, life Tags cranes, harbour, blue, blue sky, clouds, river, water, waterfront, waterside, lens flare, life, industrial, urban, travel, inner harbour, swan river, fremantle, perth, western australia, australia
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rocket [the bell tower, barrack square, perth, australia, 2023]

rocket

August 15, 2023
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 8 August 2023].

If you're an Australian of a particular vintage (specifically, Generation X or Baby Boomer), I challenge you to tell me you're not thinking of Mr Squiggle's 'Rocket' while looking at my photo of Perth's Bell Tower at Elizabeth Quay.

I took this while on a whistle-stop tour of Perth with Rhys, one of my cousins.

While Kings Park was quite familiar to me, including the vista from the war memorial (which I had captured on at least one previous visit), the view had markedly changed in the roughly 20-30 years since I'd last photographed it.

This building and other high rises have since populated (and are still adding to) the skyline on Elizabeth Quay.

Although the architecture is vastly different: The Bell Tower is on a river, while the National Carillon is on an island in a manmade lake, and they are on almost direct opposite sides of the big, brown land we call Australia, I couldn't help but think of the near-annual visits my brothers and I took with my Granddad to the National Carillon on Queen Elizabeth II Island in Lake Burley Griffin as kids when confronted with The Bell Tower.

Perth was the city my grandparents moved to after decades lived in Canberra, and it was while visiting them in late high school that I first saw Perth.

I still feel I've only scratched the surface of Perth after about four visits, but there's something comforting about the same-same-but-different elements of the city to Canberra.

I'm sure that if my brothers, cousins and I were kids now and my grandparents were still alive and living in Perth, my Granddad would take us to The Bell Tower annually.

In perth, architecture, family, life Tags architecture, modern architecture, spire, glass, sunlight, backlit, sky, shadows, blue sky, family, nostalgia, travel, winter, bell tower, barrack square, elizabeth quay, perth, western australia, australia
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untitled #9 [bromley, london, united kingdom, 2023]

thinking of home

July 21, 2023
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 15 July 2023].

I took these photos of Sabine's azaleas during my last cat-sitting for her before I went to Australia.

The blooms were beautiful and eye-catching.

untitled #11 [bromley, london, united kingdom, 2023]

According to Wikipedia: Azaleas and rhododendrons were once so infamous for their toxicity that to receive a bouquet of their flowers in a black vase was a well-known death threat.

untitled #12 [bromley, london, united kingdom, 2023]

But they were apparently immortalised by Tang dynasty Chinese poet Du Fu in the last two stanzas of his poem, Alone, looking for blossoms along the river:

The sorrow of riverside blossoms inexplicable,
And nowhere to complain — I've gone half crazy.
I look up our southern neighbor. But my friend in wine
Gone ten days drinking. I find only an empty bed.

A thick frenzy of blossoms shrouding the riverside,
I stroll, listing dangerously, in full fear of spring.
Poems, wine — even this profusely driven, I endure.
Arrangements for this old, white-haired man can wait.

A deep river, two or three houses in bamboo quiet,
And such goings on: red blossoms glaring with white!
Among spring's vociferous glories, I too have my place:
With a lovely wine, bidding life's affairs bon voyage.

Looking east to Shao, its smoke filled with blossoms,
I admire that stately Po-hua wineshop even more.
To empty golden wine cups, calling such beautiful
Dancing girls to embroidered mats — who could bear it?

East of the river, before Abbot Huang's grave,
Spring is a frail splendor among gentle breezes.
In this crush of peach blossoms opening ownerless,
Shall I treasure light reds, or treasure them dark?

At Madame Huang's house, blossoms fill the paths:
Thousands, tens of thousands haul the branches down.
And butterflies linger playfully — an unbroken
Dance floating to songs orioles sing at their ease.

I don't so love blossoms I want to die. I'm afraid,
Once they are gone, of old age still more impetuous.
And they scatter gladly, by the branchful. Let's talk
Things over, little buds — open delicately, sparingly.

untitled #8 [bromley, london, united kingdom, 2023]

In Chinese culture, it's apparently known as the "thinking of home bush", thus my title for this post.

Sabine's home has become something of a second home for me over the past year and a half, and spending time with her kittehs most months last year and many months this year so far has impacted my mental health positively.

Not to mention the enjoyment I get from the evenings spent in conversation with her the nights before she goes away. And the delicious and varied salads she usually makes us.

In a floral tribute, minutiae, life Tags azalea, evergreen azalea, flowers, pink, leaves, green, vibrant, colourful, garden, language of flowers, life, sunlight, shadows, poetry, bromley, london, england
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water of leith

water of leith

July 18, 2023
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 13 July 2023].

It may seem like I just came back from a holiday.

And I'm not going to lie: some parts of my time away in Australia were definitely a holiday.

But I worked part-time in my "day job" while I was away. And a lot of the time I was away was hard, emotional work.

Attempting to regain control of my finances, I've had my annual leave accrual paid out in cash for the past year and a half. So, though I was effectively paid for my leave, it wasn't money going into my bank account while I was away. I didn't have the luxury of being on an actual holiday.

There were some beautiful, wonderful times with family and friends during my time in Australia.

My visit with my Uncle John was far too short. I wanted to talk with him more. About him, about family. And, yes, even perhaps have another 2.5-hour debate about politics ;)

Despite having a two-week stay with Dad, I left knowing there were more things I wanted to help him with. Conversations not yet had.

A whole room of Mum's stuff left to sort through.

And more games of Scrabble to play, Canasta to learn with him and Cheryl, and even lazy afternoons spent together watching 'The Chase' (both the British and Australian versions) or evenings watching nature documentaries and eating ice creams.

Melbourne was crazy. I spent more time with friends and family in six days than I would generally spend in a year.

It was amazing, as someone who values the people I spend time with. As an introvert, it was exhausting.

And my time in Perth was far too short.

Though my Uncle Graham and I may have different views on many things, I would like to hear his.

I presumed that Mum - as someone so absorbed and obsessed with family - would have held all the family history. And that, with her parents, aunts and uncles and her gone, a lot of that would be lost.

But a short period with my uncle demonstrated he was just as attentive, though maybe attentive to different things. I would have enjoyed talking with (or just listening to) him more to try to piece together more of the family now that Mum's gone.

Dad wrote a long and lovely piece about Mum before she passed. If I recall correctly, I asked him to, as I should have asked her to do decades before. An extended biography that I still need to edit for him.

I've asked him to do the same, but I presume (and hope!) I won't read that for quite a while still.

While in Brisbane, I asked that Uncle John do the same. About him. And in partnership with Dad, about my grandparents, about their uncles.

I didn't ask Uncle Graham, but I would like him to and will email him to ask. Because Mum told me all the family stories, but I never asked her to write them down.

She told them to me as we pored over her family photo albums after dinner and red wine. I lapped up those stories in the moment. And I still savour them, but the reality is that I absorbed only morsels compared to the complete tales.

During this visit, I spent quality time with a cousin I had previously been mere acquaintances with. Perhaps not enough to feel we truly know each other. But we connected more and for longer than we ever had before.

I would have liked to spend more time catching up with my other cousin, who I had connected with previously. But we only briefly caught up during this visit, and our time was full of food and family chatter.

But at least, after this visit, I felt more connected with my Mum's family than before.

And I'm grateful to my cousin Rhys for playing tour guide and taking me to calm, picturesque places, which allowed me to wind down after such a hectic time in Melbourne (and provided me with plenty of photo opportunities).

All that to say that, after not having had a holiday in the true sense since October/November 2019 (and it's debatable it was even a 'holiday' for various reasons), I have, of late, been plotting and planning a return to Scotland.

It will hopefully take place in late September. And the plan is to visit two friends I met in 2000 in Reading while living there. Who I haven't seen in person since about 2002 and 2009, respectively. And who I've had intermittent contact with during that period.

And having actual paid time off to do that. To see parts of Scotland I've not previously seen (ooh-er!) and to spend time with good people. And, of course, to take copious amounts of photos.

It's all still very much to be confirmed, but to say I'm excited at the prospect would be an understatement.

To celebrate the possibility, a photo of the Water of Leith, near Dean Village, that I took in August 2011. The last time I was in Edinburgh.

In scotland, life, family Tags water of leith, river, water, trees, green, nature, family, life, suburbia, dean village, edinburgh, scotland
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the hardest button to button

the hardest button to button

July 9, 2023

Whilst I was visiting Dad last month, we tried to sort through Mum's belongings to work out what to keep, what family or friends might want, what to give to charity, and what to throw out.

We didn't get to her sewing room at all, but we did at least go through her wardrobe, jewellery, bathroom items and some odds and sods. In short, the items in Dad's bedroom.

Before this visit, I probably wouldn't have even vaguely entertained trying on her clothing as we were vastly different in size, shape, and style for most of our lives.

This visit, I'd put on weight, so I wasn't quite so dismissive. Though I knew our sense of style was quite different, and there would likely be few, if any, items I would retain.

I wasn't wrong.

In the end, all I brought back to London was a white shawl (I don't know if it was handmade or bought. It doesn't have a label, but that doesn't prove one way or another), a cream and a royal blue scarf (both bought). And her wedding dress which was tailor-made for her, my Dad thinks, in Sydney.

I spent AU$50 on dry cleaning her wedding dress in Ulverstone before I left as it had rust-coloured mould marks on it from being stored in their walk-in robe in a corner with poor air circulation.

Despite not being kept in any protective plastic covering, it had endured well and came up beautifully from the dry cleaning.

Although unfortunately, at some point, over the years, Mum had unpicked all six of the Marabou trims that encircled the bottom of the dress.

Dad remembers seeing her doing this but doesn't recall what she gave as the reason. We don't know if they may be stowed in her glory box in the built-in robe in their front room (the room Mum used as a sewing room, where my piano also lives) or if she threw them out at some point. Hopefully, next time I visit, I can investigate that.

I remember Mum asking me, around age 18, to try her wedding dress on. She had been 24 when she and Dad married in 1970. The dress fit my 52 kg body perfectly. Except that my bosom was too small, so the bust was loose.

I remember at the time being astonished that my Mum had once been my size as most of my life that I recalled she had struggled with her weight, and in terms of body shape, we were different.

However, when I tried the dress on again at 21, it fit me perfectly.

Now, not so much.

But I love the dress, and even if I never fit into it again and never get married, I would like to keep it. (If I'm honest, marriage hasn't been high on my list of life goals). Maybe, at some point, it will be handed down to someone in our family to use again.

Meanwhile, there was no urgency to go through the things in her sewing room, so we focussed more on working through her clothes and personal effects in their bedroom. We knew others could reuse many of the items in there. And Dad's bedroom needed a thorough clean-out (which he and Cheryl did after I left).

I did try on a few things out of curiosity.

Mum had worked out her style quite early on in life. Though her dress size and shape may have changed over the years, especially as she put on weight, she knew that store-bought clothing was never as suitable for her as homemade.

She made my and my brothers' bathers when we were young.

She made my first collection of knickers with cute elastic and patterned stretch-cotton material. I'm sure my brothers' knickers were also of her making.

She made us vests (singlets for those of you in Australia), the odd t-shirt, many dresses for me, and trousers. I'm sure Mum made many of my brothers' shorts.

She was also a keen knitter and made me various vests (sleeveless jumpers) and jumpers over the years.

Looking at what we took from her wardrobe, she'd probably narrowed the patterns for her clothing down to about 5-6 styles of tops/shirts. And one set of more formal clothes, comprising a suit jacket, trousers (dressed up or down, depending upon the material) and a skirt (also mostly one style, with material variations). She knew what suited her shape and size and worked with it.

She taught me from a young age to shop with the thought of how an item would work with what I already owned. If I were buying a top, trousers or skirt, how many items of clothing already in my wardrobe would it work with?

She wasn't a big dress-wearer as they didn't suit her shape.

But as a dress-wearer, that translated into ensuring my jumpers, tights, shoes, etc., would match any new dresses I bought.

She also taught me when contemplating buying clothing, "If in doubt, don't," e.g., if trying on an item of clothing and I'm unsure, don't buy it. It will just sit in my wardrobe, ignored.

I may have applied this test to other elements of my life over the years (specifically, relationships).

But, pulling out all her clothing, checking it for marks and cleanliness before donation, and reviewing anything that I might try on, over and over, it was evident to me how talented a seamstress she was.

Very little of the clothing we took out of the wardrobe had been made by someone else. All were well-made, well-kept and, in some cases, quite elaborate in their design, including a series of shirts made with fabric button-loops, as shown in this image.

Many would have avoided this type of work, but Mum had numerous tops with this buttonhole style and was quite confident in executing this sort of work.

She also chose some beautiful materials and colours for her clothes.

Dad split her clothing between a few charity shop chains in Ulverstone. (He was aware they often refuse to sell clothing to people in the same town where donated. Thus the decision to ensure they were a chain). I hope other women get a lot of wear from her clothes.

She made them with love and a passion for dressmaking. One she tried to instil in me but for which I had far less talent.

In family, life, minutiae Tags shirt, colourful, button-loops, buttonholes, clothing, dressmaking, mother, seamstress
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she ain’t heavy, she’s my mother

she ain’t heavy, she’s my mother

July 5, 2023

The one thing no one tells you is how much human ashes weigh.

The first night I was with Dad in Ulverstone, we were seated at the dining table after dinner. I don't remember if we were talking about Mum at the time or something completely unrelated, but seemingly out of the blue, Dad said something like, "I have something new to show you, but it's maybe not the right time."

I didn't know what he might mean, so I responded that now I was worried.

He said it was on the piano, it was Mum's ashes, and he wandered off to get them.

At the time, even if we'd been talking about Mum, it felt a little out of left field, and I'd not been thinking about such things, so it was a bit of a shock to my system.

He returned with a navy blue presentation box. Inside was a plastic container like those you'd use for protein powder. There's no better way to describe it.

There was also a plaque that might have been suitable to affix to a cremation plot in a cemetery, but it was light. And, for some reason, Hyde was engraved with a lowercase 'h'. (I can't help it, I always spot those details).

None of these things mattered because we knew we would scatter her ashes. So, the only thing that mattered was having her ashes.

Not the receptacle that contained them or the never-to-be-used plaque.

Dad handed me the box. The first thing that hit me was how heavy she was.

That immediately brought home how real this was.

The soul may weigh only 21 grams*, but the ashes of human remains are much heavier than I would ever have imagined.

The realisation made me quite emotional, and I admit, I was a little in shock. The wine we had with dinner and the ciders I'd had probably didn't help.

I sat at the table with Dad and Mum and let the emotion wash over me. The idea sink in. I handled the container, felt its weight in my hands and made some flippant joke that no one would ever have thought Mum would fit in a box that small.

Later in the week, before my brothers arrived, I made time to play the piano for Mum one last time.

It was terrible. I hadn't played since October 2019, and though I thought I played surprisingly well then after an excessively long break, I was seriously struggling to identify the right notes this time. What had previously come back to me, like riding a bike, felt almost alien.

I think that was the first time I appreciated how much I had previously learned. Like learning a foreign language and then realising how hard it must have been to pick up when you lose the words through lack of practice.

I would go through moments when everything flowed through my fingers, and then a bar or two would completely throw me off. I swore. A lot.

But I wanted to play to Mum that last time because she played a large part in my learning piano in the first place and would often ask me to play while she prepared dinner or did some other chore around the house all through my time growing up and when I lived with my parents on and off as an adult. She didn't mind what I played. She just loved to listen to me play.

Before I played to her, my curiosity was too much. So, while alone, I took Dad's kitchen scale to the dining table. I placed Mum's ashes on it and took this photo. I presumed the container probably weighed less than a kilogram, so her ashes weighed about 2kg.

I contemplated keeping some of her ashes. I thought about bringing them back to London with me.

Some companies claim to be able to make diamonds from human ashes and/or hair. That appealed to me as diamonds are my birthstone.

But in the end, the sceptic in me researched such claims and couldn't verify them, and the process would have been hugely expensive, so I decided I would rather all of her be scattered together.

*The theory that the human soul weighs 21 grams has been rejected. 
In family, life, minutiae Tags human ashes, mother, death, grief, loss
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from hyde

love letters

July 2, 2023

When we were kids growing up in Brisbane, my parents, brothers, and I used to record audio letters to our grandparents who lived in Canberra every so often.

I remember the four or five of us sat around the dining table in our house in Aspley. Passing a microphone around that was plugged into a radio/cassette player to record updates on our lives.

When I stayed with my grandparents in Perth in 1998 for my cousin Rhys' wedding, my Granddad put his headphones on me to play me part of a cassette. I heard myself talking to him and my Grandma at around six years old.

It was surreal.

The disconnect to how I sounded then, but knowing it was me, blew my mind.

first tape from margaret and children from brisbane

When my grandparents passed away, I asked Mum to ensure she salvaged the cassettes. And she did.

But only one of the four cassette cases I found in my parents' house had a cassette inside.

They may still be there, but Dad and I didn't have a chance to properly go through Mum's sewing room, where I found them.

Pete took the empties and the one cassette home to digitise it for us. His bands still distribute their music on cassette.

While visiting my family in Perth this visit, Rhys told me they did the same growing up in Calgary, and he'd asked for those to be kept, too. I would love to hear them someday if I could.

Hearing yourself on tape as a child when you're an adult is a form of time travel.

In life, minutiae, family Tags cassette, cassette letter, audio letter, letter, correspondence, 1980s, handwriting, labels, masking tape, memories, time travel
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untitled #270 [the nut, stanley, tasmania, australia, 2018]

off yer nut

May 30, 2023
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 25 May 2023].

After so much time away from home, I've finally caught up on most things, excluding sleep.

Unfortunately, poor wee Dougal had an operation on Monday afternoon and is still recovering, so we cancelled my sitting with him. His owner and I both hope he comes good soon.

As much as I don't like to hear about Dougal being poorly, having more time at home has been helpful for my mental health and catching up on life admin.

I will still go to Bromley on Friday evening until Monday to sit my regulars plus one.

untitled #272 [the nut, stanley, tasmania, australia, 2018]

In the meantime, I'm pleased to be home and that the repairs to the building are currently paused between the roof replacement and re-pointing (and then painting).

Footpath reconstruction is due to start on our section of the road next Tuesday, so it would seem I chose the ideal time to GTFO of Dodge.

All of these things are well overdue, but so is my sleep!

If I'm being honest, that's the one thing I'm looking forward to most with my time away: some relaxation, alongside catching up with family and friends. I suspect it will still end up hectic.

I woke to a less-than-positive update about an extended family member in Australia today, but I'm hoping the cause proves to be minor. At least, hopefully, I can be of some assistance during my stay.

I've managed to import the photos I took in Brockley and Ladywell Cemetery one day while sitting Mia. And those of Jilly I took with my D700 during my sitting with her. I hope to share some of these with you soon, along with other photos and artwork.

untitled #271 [the nut, stanley, tasmania, australia, 2018]

In the meantime, please enjoy a few photos of The Nut in Stanley, Tasmania, I took in 2018. I didn't know this was a volcanic plug until I looked it up to link you to more information. And I didn't know what a volcanic plug was until now.

Photography feeds my curious mind.

In tasmania, life Tags volcanic plug, natural formation, landscape, plants, nature, blue, blue sky, clouds, grass, green, yellow, sea, bass strait, the nut, stanley, tasmania, australia
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