Cold in the earth-and the deep snow piled above thee Far, far removed, cold in the dreary grave!

Thank you for that, Emily. Here's one for the psychrophilic taphophiles amongst us, snowy tombstones in Cottingham churchyard.

Bleak Midwinter

Taken by Margot K Juby

It's January and it's snowing and there's no real surprise in any of that. Only surprise is that anyone would go out in -5C and get their fingers frozen to take photos. Well it wasn't me, I stayed indoors all warm and snug while someone else did the hard work. I suppose a big 'thank you' to Margot is in order.

More monochrome blogs at The Weekend in Black & White.

Carr Lane

The word 'carr' is derived from old Norse kjarr, meaning swamp, and is a waterlogged wooded terrain, a stage in the transformation of wetland to forest. Carr Lane runs west from Queen Victoria Square and its name is a reminder that Hull was once surrounded by boggy marsh land. What you see here is the main entrance to Princes Quay shopping centre and, to the right, a fine example of 1970's brutalist architecture. Such is the fickle nature of fashion that I can imagine some blogger in the future lamenting its loss. 

Grey skies are gonna clear up .....ain't they?

As I've said before a walk around the city centre these days can be a really depressing experience. There are so many empty shops and the prospect of more to come. It's been a really grim week for job losses. The closures of HMV, Blockbusters (even Gwenap!) and many more mean that nationwide 17,000  jobs have gone or are under threat in the past week with only 2500 jobs created [ 1 ]. Still not to worry the Government, busy spreading sunshine all over the place, tells us that the economy is on the mend and they wouldn't lie to us, would they?

The Polar Bear

There is a legend on this ship
That taking down the head he keeps
Displayed above the fruit machine,
At times of need the Polar Bear
Will pass among us with a hat,
And taking the only course open, set sail
For the land of the takeout, that serves after time.
(From Those in Peril, Sean O'Brien The Indoor Park, Bloodaxe 1983)

Nostalgia ain't what it used to be or so the saying goes. The Polar Bear on Spring Bank used to be my watering hole. Five minutes walk from my rather dreadful bedsit I'd spend many hours in here supping the delicious Hull Brewery bitter, encountering, amid the smoke filled fug, some seriously daft people from Hull poets (Margot Virago, red hot from Chicago!) to delivery drivers, separatist feminists and a very strange man who departed for a commune in Angelsey... and not forgetting, as if I could, A.L the stereotypical Glaswegian drunk who would bore on loudly in the snug about Rabbie Burns and the meaning of 'Comin' Thro' the Rye' ("It's aall aboot feckin!") ...and when Martin Bormann (aka the landlord) called 'Time' there was often a bottle of cider to take out to keep the party going.

And then, well, then they had to go and 'do it up'. Take out all the old wooden panelling, remove the snug, rearrange the doors and, peccatum mortale, change the beer. They even sold off the polar bear head that used to be in the back room. They banned Staggering Ken, a man who would drink pints of Barley Wine and sway from side to side but never quite fall over while swearing and muttering abuse. No, it was never the same again. Now I've moved on and  I don't go into pubs any more I just take pictures of them.

You can, if you're interested, read the history of this pub which dates back to about 1850 here (scroll down a bit). Inside they've kept the ceramic semi-circular bar and the domed ceiling under which I played many a game of nine spot dominoes. Thanks to a campaign by CAMRA  the building is now Grade 2 listed.

From a sedentary position

Whilst sitting on a bench waiting for someone to turn up the other day I decided to take a few lucky shots; just set the timer on,  plonk the camera down on the bench, point it up the street, press the shutter button and see what happens. This was the best of the bunch. We're looking here along Jameson Street. I'd like to thank the guy with the green hat for his perfect timing.

The naughty knicker shop

Pause and sigh at the passing of Gwenap; Britain's (possibly the World's) longest established 'adult' store on Princes Avenue. Gwenap opened in 1903 selling dresses and hats but with the advent of the 70's it specialised in selling titillating underwear and, erm, other items. It was then run, I'm told, by a pair of elderly ladies who would shout, in quavering voices, questions such as "Where are the crotchless panties, dear?". It was famous for it's cheeky messages and signs. When local MP and Deputy Prime Minister John Prescott was found to be in a relationship with his secretary a sign appeared saying "Politicians Welcome!" Well, times change and fashions as well and the shop is now a boutique but not for much longer, for today it closes. You can, of course, still get your frills  and thrills on-line.