A 1962 Red Morris

As I know very little (and care even less) about cars I looked up about the Morris Minor in our old friend Wikipedia. According to this impeccable resource the Morris Minor is "considered a classic example of automotive design, as well as typifying "Englishness". Well hmmm. I don't get this Englishness thing; it is a pretty meaningless word especially relating to a motorised box on wheels but let's not start the week off with quibbling. This particular car is a little bit younger than me, was once orange and is now standing in a place that renovates clapped-out old bangers. Speaking of clapped-out old bangers I could do with a bit of renovation as well.

The Sign of the Dancing Goat

This oddly named coffee house is on Beverley Road between Dinos pizza and burger place( "a Healthier alternative" yeah right) and the Newland Christian Centre (doubtless a holier alternative). It is an excellent establishment, so I've read, but as you know I don't touch coffee.

Deep and dangerous

Here's the good old Barmston Drain passing under Clough Road. That yellow thing in the water is a sign from the nearby fitness centre that you can see in the background. It had clearly not read the warning below.

Weekend reflections are here.

A room with a view

Sneaking through the new Zebedee's Yard car park the other day I came across this odd thing. It's some kind of observation platform stuck on top of a building behind the old Neptune Hotel aka Boots the chemist on Whitefriargate. I'll tempt fate and say it wouldn't be sticking my neck out too far to say that, as the building was part of the Customs and Excise extortion racket until 1912, it has some nautical connection since from up there you would have been able to see all the comings and goings on Hull's docks and the river traffic as well. A low tech version of Big Brother is watching you ... the 'security' camera is the modern version.

The weekend in black and white has crept up on us again and it's here.

On yer bike mate ...

So I hung around this sign waiting to see what might happen given cyclists' propensity to be a law unto themselves. Just my luck to find the one cyclist in this town who obeys traffic signs. Mind you cyclists really shouldn't be riding on the pavement now should they?

Labyrinthine mess

The closure of Carr Lane has extended the feeling that the town centre is really becoming a labyrinth at the heart of which lies not some half-man half bull but just some crazed substance abusing town planner who is full of the brown smelly stuff.

Below the magnificent workforce are holding a prayer meeting before carrying out the sacred work of civic destruction, or maybe it was just a pep talk in how to drag the job out for as long as possible.

Of course you can't make omelettes without breaking eggs or it seems brave new worlds without cutting down half a dozen perfectly healthy alders to make way for the addled dreams of the town planner.

Barrow boys get van

The guy with his strawberries "Punnets, two for a pound" has got himself a richly decorated van.