Sunday, 14 November 2010

Topless in Darwen.

Made you look.

Just a short blog about Lancashire getting battered by the wind the other night (11th Nov). We spent the evening snuggled up in our cosy front room behind the big curtains with the fire roaring, so we heard the tempest but weren't really bothered by it. I ventured out the following morning to take the girls to the park (in the new buggy incidentally) to discover something was different.

(Top and bottom bunks...)

We have hundreds of pictures of Darwen tower because we live so close and because 'it's just there'. Having said that, it has just taken us ten minutes to find a couple of these pictures. Here's a good clear 'before' picture of the tower with it's dome intact.

This is one of Craig's more 'arty' shots but I love the shadow of the tower and the mist hanging over the town.

Anyway, it is on the horizon and we see it every day. When I went to the park, I noticed that something was wrong with the skyline straight away but you know when you think to yourself 'Has sleep deprivation addled my mind so much?'. I went to mum and dad's, where dad got his binoculars out and confirmed that I wasn't going mad. Here are the pictures from the news.

You can see that the tower looks more like a rook and less like a rocket, which is what it used to look like from a distance.

This particularly well framed and crystal clear photo was on the BBC website as compared to 'fuzzy, far away' local news- see below.

And finally, this is the clean-up operation. We are hoping that they repair it and re-attach it. Craig was unsure whether they would in the current economic climate.

Blogging has been more difficult of late, my day starts at six and I am still loading the washing machine and doing other chores at eight before sitting down to my tea. Blogging has fallen down my list of priorities- oh well managed to sneak this one in. I would add that I didn't manage to complete the post without Edie needing 'settling' and Craig taking over the computer to do routine 'maintenance'. At least I have a nice cocktail on the desk which is more than can be said for Craig. He has made me a French Martini, my favourite, 3 parts pineapple juice, 2 parts vodka and 1 part Chambord. Unfortunately his Lynchberg Lemonade required triple sec which Craig had to substitute for parfait amour (a disgusting perfumey ink coloured liqueur) and it has turned out like something teenagers drink to get smashed.

Must dash, tea will be ready soon... although, not too soon judging by Craig muttering 'Cook from bastard frozen' and slamming the oven door.

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