Water Castle

After the sunny days and clear skies, fog was inevitable. And this morning's fog was certainly pretty thick. After school drop off, my plan was to wait until the worst of the fog had abated and head out to look for a suitable ridge to take photos of the valleys filled with rivers of fog.... Actually, the washing up/washing/hoovering took longer than anticipated, and the 'best' fog had gone by the time I was out and about. Still, I did find a handy layby to stop in and get close to this water tower, which I've been driving by and wanting to photograph for a long time. Couldn't decide on black and white or colour, but the wires are less annoying in colour. These 'chateaux d'eau' are the water storage towers that you see on every slight raise in land in France. Lots of folk complain about them spoiling the view, but I rather like their variety and starkness. And I'm not averse to decent water pressure either.

Busy day of housework, shopping, sewing and now waiting for Mr B to come back. After last weekend's brief visit, it feels like we're being spoilt getting him for the whole weekend. (You can feel free to remind me of this blip in January when I'm moaning about him being here all the time, getting in my way....)

Conor was duly chastened at school to be the only child who hadn't learned the poem this time. He is determined to be the best for the next poem... Katherine had basketball training tonight and, as usual, Conor and I turned up for the end. When the teams were announced for tomorrow's matches, a girl who is normally in the seconds was promoted to the first team, prompting much shouting from her mum on the sidelines who was adament that her daughter was happier in the seconds. Neither party (parent and coach) dealt with the situation very professionally - they harangued each other across the court for five minutes at top volume. The girl in question has been demoted back to the seconds.

I asked Katherine afterwards what her friend had said about it all, and she said "Nothing, she just looked really tired." That whole parent/coach/kid thing is tricky, I know, but could someone have asked the 12 year old what she thought instead of just embarrassing her?