My Fracking 365

You don't need a weather man, To know which way the wind blows

Step-Grandson Kai was supposed to be preparing me a hand-drawn 365 sign to finish off my blip year and pose with it. I had it all worked out, in that I wanted him to stand holding the sign like Bob Dylan in his famous Subterranean Homesick Blues film. All was going so well at one point, in that said sign artwork had been produced, and the negotiated price even agreed between parties (airmailed sweets). All the effort proved far too much for my little budding artist though, and he had to go straight to bed dead-beat, before any photos could be taken and emailed. What a big bad grandad (Postscript: Better late than never, you can see little Kai here).

Not a good day then, to have to dig out an emergency blip last minute I thought, but luckily the blip gods were shining down on me today of all days.

As I drove past the Conservative Party HQ in Knutsford this afternoon there was an odd industrial huddle happening on the small heath opposite. It comprised many hard-hatted workmen with a mini drilling rig; surveyors with theodolites; a huddle of policemen; and a small group of onlookers. Strange I thought, as nothing normally ever happens in this town.

I checked online once back at home and found to my amazement I was wrong. It was infact a Frack & Go 'installational demonstration' against shale gas 'fracking' being made by Greenpeace for the benefit of petitioning our incumbent MP, and Chancellor of the Exchequer George Osbourne.

I rushed back there, but things were already being packed up by then. I am afraid I just couldn't resist this little photo adulteration with some applied text, care of App Fronto as my year one swansong.

I am happy to report I am continuing beyond 365, but I am losing the strict blip-a-day regime of last year. I am going to blip less, but read other's blip a lot more. That's the plan tonight at least. Don't blame me tomorrow night if I feel the urge to blip if United stuff Real Madrid.

Postscript: A big thank you to a number of people are in order I think: These are to blip friends MrJohn (and his Ilkley blip mafia) who is my all time kindest contributor, and always makes me laugh out loud; to waipushrink and glassroad with their always thoughtful and exotic views of a southern hemisphere that has kept me jealous warm at all times this winter; to berger and nanou with their loyal persistence at trying to understand my ramblings on football and fishing in a language alien to them; to RobertHowell who introduced me to the joys of blip and his chocolate charley dog; to BikerRich for his lovely glimpses of happy family life in the channel islands; to ceridwen for her always thoughtful and fascinating insights from Wales; to issybe on my doorstep for reminding me that MrsB isn't in a minority when it comes to twisting us men around our wives little fingers; to MarieFrazer for reminding me that children are the thing that binds us; to Photobymarkdave who quite rightly says as he finds and calls a spade a spade with my sometimes terrible photography; and finally to the lovely Kendalishere and Giacomo who have both humbled me on many occassions with their kindness, sincerity, warmth and compassion from across the pond. Thank you to them and all. Oscar music drifts in and shepherds hook emerges from stage left to grab Atoll, who by now is blubbing like Anne Hathaway...