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Tony Lloyd, Interim Mayor of Greater Manchester and Police and Crime Commissioner, joined Greater Manchester Fire and Rescue Service staff and officer in a minute's silence this morning to remember those affected by the Brussels Attacks.
For more information about Policing in Greater Manchester please visit our website. www.gmp.police.uk
To report crime call police on 101 the national non-emergency number.
You can also call anonymously with information about crime to Crimestoppers on 0800 555 111.
Crimestoppers is an independent charity who will not want your name, just your information. Your call will not be traced or recorded and you do not have to go to court or give a statement.
“Remember that self-doubt is as self-centered as self-inflation. Your obligation is to reach as deeply as you can and offer your unique and authentic gifts as bravely and beautifully as you're able.”
― Bill Plotkin, Nature and the Human Soul: Cultivating Wholeness and Community in a Fragmented World
Taken on the morning of Rememberence Day. what a beautiful sunrise on such a thoughtful day. many thanks in advance for any comments
There seemed to be no sign of the smoke from the wildfires in B.C. and Alberta on 24 July 2017, so I made the most of it and went for an afternoon drive SE of the city. First, I wanted to call in at the Saskatoon Farm and find a few colourful flowers to photograph and then I wanted to check on birds at Frank Lake - a good job I don't make lists of what I see, as this bird list would have been ridiculously short!
The Saskatoon Farm was absolutely packed! It was U-pick season and this is obviously extremely popular. I had a fairly quick wander around, including taking a photo or two of the unusual-looking Helmeted Guineafowl. I love their black and white, polka dot body feather pattern. Also love their Sunflowers, especially the orange ones.
From there, I drove the short distance to Frank Lake, which was totally deserted - no people, practically no birds, either. Where were they all? I've had such bad luck at Frank Lake this year on the few times I have been there. Three White-faced Ibis and a juvenile Black-crowned Night-Heron flew over, and I did see a Marsh Wren and a Yellow-headed Blackbird. I had driven there the previous day, too, and there was not much to see, though I was lucky to have a Western Grebe swim briefly near the blind. It was 34C (93.2F) at the lake that day!
From the blind, I drove all the way round the lake area, hoping to find a field or two of Canola. Afterwards, one of the further roads had me passing the tiny church at Dinton. I always stop and take a few photos.
A collage I made up using my own images to show my respect for our fallen. please feel free to share
we had a promise made, we were in love.
remember me. i'm always here for you when you're sad, confused or unsure. don't forget what we've got and what we have to come. we can work on this and make it through. we made a promise to each other. remember us. remember everything we've thought about. remember what we're going to be.
One of the craft projects I worked on this past weekend, based on this photo, which is so inspiring. These are good things for me to remember.
365 - Day 60
This image so much portraits my outlook of life, always thinking and looking back at what life used to be with Neill, and wondering what it might have been with him. Today would have been his 15th birthday....
The first weekend (Saturday/Sunday) in November we remember all of our beloved we lost -"All Saints Day"...
Dad died on Saturday 9th February 2008. Until then he had spent over two years battling with the physical, psychological and familial effects of cancer.
Below I have written a record of dad's life with cancer as I remember it. It isn't perfect and it is a very personal record. I am sure that others have their stories to tell too. If you knew dad it would be great for you to add to his story and sign up for free and make a comment.
He was diagnosed as having prostate cancer whilst in hospital undergoing tests. He was told the bad news behind a curtain on a busy hospital ward on the day of his 41st wedding anniversary 2005. Dad shed a tear, and then started to get on with the business of living with cancer.
Further tests revealed that the cancer had spread to a lymph node and that dads treatment pathway was limited to controlling the spread of the cancer over time.
Dad quickly learned to cope with his cancer and he made himself a promise that he would finish off his final months at work before retirement. This thought kept dad focused and motivated during his time off for recuperation. Our first visit out with dad was at the Christmas Markets in Manchester. He was still a little fragile, but with the help of his treatment he became stronger. On Christmas Eve we made a traditional visit to Hebden Bridge and then on Christmas Day, for the first time ever, we had dinner at a restaurant with no extravagance spared.
I was always conscious of dads illness and of his limited time left with us, so I made a vow to spend as much time as possible with him. Thus, on several occasions, I asked Dad to become my 'photographers assistant'. In February 2006 I had a commission to photograph Elizabeth Gaskell's house. Dad and I spent a memorable day cooing over the late Georgian interior (although dad was more interested in the plumbing than the architecture). I took a shaky shot of him setting up the lighting in one of the reception rooms. Dad proved to be an awful assistant. After ten minutes of help he would often get caught up with anybody and everybody. He always found something in common with whoever he met. Invariably, I always completed the commission without my assistant, but dad walked away content and having made many friends.
During his first time in hospital we made a promise that we would all go out to Paris together and we managed to fly out there in March of 2006 with Mum, my wife, brother and his wife. He particularly wanted to visit the Pantheon and an English pub called 'TheBombadier ', where upon a previous visit Dad had declared the day as 'the best day of his life'. Dad was prone to having many days which were prosaically declared as the best day of his life. Such days also included my wedding in Venice, my brothers wedding, Mauritania, Algeria and Grinzing in Vienna. He had so many happy days.
Back in the UK life got back to as normal as possible. I remember a particular visit by Mum and Dad to our home where we went out for a walk around the local park. Here I took a few snaps of dad. He seemed happy yet contemplative. He never, ever took a single day for granted and he seemed to absorb each second of each day and chew it over in his mind.
Dad was only 63 when he was diagnosed. Just over one year off his retirement from work. After his recuperation it was typical of dad to want to get back to work and finish his time there. Here he spent several happy months working as a plumber at the local infirmary.
During his time at the infirmary, my wife, who also worked there, remembers hearing an explosion whilst walking down a corridor. Amidst the deafening tone of the fire alarms, dad emerged pink faced (and splattered) from behind a bathroom door, after mixing a lethal concoction of drain cleaner to unblock a particularly awkward urinal.
In the August of 2006 my family and I rented a cottage within the grounds of Rievaulx Abbey in Yorkshire and mum and dad came along for a couple of days. We spent a wonderful evening (with the abbey ruins to ourselves) picnicking in the chancel and dancing to jazz music. Once again, dad had a contemplative moment on his own and I caught him on camera leaning against the ancient columns of Rievaulx where thousands had passed centuries before. He wasn't sad - he just wasn't willing to let a special occasion such as this slip between his fingers.
Time seemed to fly by, and soon it was a year since dads original diagnosis. It was also time for dad to retire. Mum and Emily (his grand daughter) threw a surprise party for him at the house. Dad was in his element surrounded by family and friends.
Soon, it was time for another celebration - my brother Paul's wedding to Kath. Just before the wedding Paul had organised for Dad to go to the local health club and have some pampering - he never forgot that, and always talked about it afterwards. It was a day where we all forgot our problems and focused on celebrating Paul and Kath's marriage. Dad, as ever became part of the entertainment during the evening celebrations, donning the best man's kilt and subsequently losing it on the dance floor.
Christmas came around once again and we made our traditional trip up to Hebden Bridge and I made a couple of sketches of our journey. This was a particularly difficult time for Dad because he was also dealing with the news that his sister in law, Joan, had been diagnosed with a terminal brain tumour. There were times when Dad wasn't quite himself and I remember him coming up to the house and talking things through. Joan died in January in the new year.
In February, I had another commission to photograph some dry stone walling skillfully executed by the late Raven Frankland. Dad came along to Cumbria and met his wife Dr Frankland (an eminent botanist) on her farmstead. The Frankland's had single handedly saved Pendragon Castle from destruction by meticulous archaeology - slowly revealing it's secrets over a significant number of years. Dad was amazed by the C17th farm and interior and also struck by Dr Franklands stories about her late husband and his ancestors. Later we went out with her farmhand who had gained an MBE for services to farming and agriculture, and I remember thinking that Dad should get an MBE for the way that he had coped with his illness. I managed to get a photo of dad taking a photo next to the castle. Dad also helped me on numerous occasions throughout the next months, photographing the interiors of churches and the like. I was always secretly pained by his condition and I think that he realised this. It was during these times that we seemed to form a silent bond of mutual support.
In April my wife and I managed to get hold of an allotment and throughout the next few months dad chipped in every now and again to help us get things into shape. It started out as a bare patch of earth. We managed to get hold of an old greenhouse from my cousin and dad helped us put it together and install the glass. Whilst installing a particularly awkward piece of glass he cut himself and the dried spots of blood remain on the glass there to this day - a secular shrine surrounded by tomatoes, chillies, cucumbers and the faint scent of lavender.
We also stayed over at Beverley in April during the Grand National. Dad and I sneaked out to the Green Dragon on one occasion and had a couple of pints. He also loved an afternoon spent in the Monks after a trip around the Minster. During this time Dad bought a silver cross at the Saturday Market which I wear with pride today. I remember getting up early on the Sunday before leaving and sketching the Bar.
In May I was involved with organising a Heritage Skills event at Fountains Abbey for our skilled Lead Workers, and Dad was asked to come along and provide some tuition for the local visiting school kids. The weather was great and dad thoroughly enjoyed himself chatting to the hundreds of people who were interested in the arts of building conservation. It's comforting to think that dad may have inspired others in their chosen careers and in this way his memory lives on.
During the skills weekend we talked about our forthcoming planned trip to Verona. Dad had been before and he kept telling me of the wonderful architecture. Dreams became reality when we arrived in the home of Romeo and Juliet in early June. He asked me if I had anything interesting in mind for photographing; and he looked bemused when I said the door knockers of Verona. I also particularly remember one balmy night after dinner where we sat in Piazza Bra and whilst listening to the convivial chat of mum, dad and Charlie, I sketched the scene in front of me.
It was shortly after this time that dad had received the news that his cancer had spread to his hips. It was proposed that dad start a heavy programme of Chemotherapy combined with a mind blowing concoction of drugs - but he needed to wait for a little until certain drugs settled. Dad wasn't phased by the latest diagnosis, in fact he seemed to go into overdrive and at the end of July he helped my brother build a conservatory from scratch.
Throughout the summer I had been preparing for a photographic exhibition of Edgar Wood buildings to be shown at the Long Street Methodist Church. The Church is a wonderful grade II* listed building by Wood which is under threat. The exhibition was due in September, and in late August I remember feeling particularly stressed over some shots that I needed to take. Dad, kindly reminded me of his photographic assistancy skills and I (somewhat reluctantly) agreed to let him come out and help me. I took a photo of Dad just before setting off and he looked in the pique of health; in fact, he had just undergone his first bout of Chemotherapy. This didn't stop Dad having a pint of beer with me during our trip out - talking about the fortunes of our beloved Man City. After a slow start I managed to get two defining shots which were put into the exhibition - firstly: F W Jacksons gravestone and secondly Elm Street School. The gravestone is in the crematorium where Dad will be cremated, and whilst there I will remember the good time we had setting up the shot in between funerals.
The exhibition took place in September at the Church. It was dedicated to Mum and Dad. I was so proud to see him there, even though he wasn't well after another bout of Chemotherapy. Later, Dad came along to Leeds to return some exhibition boards to a historic plastering contractor, and it was at this time that I noticed that dad was looking pale and tired.
Dad's health seemed to take a turn for the worst during October, and he spent an anxious time on an isolation ward in hospital after being diagnosed with Neutropenia - which left him breathless for the remaining months of his life. Nevertheless, he still managed to make friends with the staff and patients on the ward. His spirit still remained unbroken after he was taken to hospital again with suspected DVT, but it turned out to be a condition caused by his cancer.
In spite of being told that the Chemotherapy he was undergoing wasn't working (and subsequently stopped) - Dad still continued to try and live as fulfilling a life as possible. I managed to take him out to Neston, Stockport and Manchester. As late as November last year we managed to go out on a trip to a local salvage yard in Yorkshire with his brother in law Tony and nephew Bob. We took a few photographs of him with some statues of the Blues Brothers and these were to be some of the last photo's taken of Dad.
The months of December and January took on a sombre tone.
Dad became increasingly ill and spent most of Christmas and the new year in hospital. I remember a particularly stark day spent at Christie's where he was told that his cancer may have spread further. A later scan revealed that his cancer had spread to his liver and this was a difficult fact to take for Dad. But, he managed to keep going, this time I think more for others than himself.
Just a week before he died he managed to get out to the local for a spot of lunch. I had downloaded a couple of video's of Hulme (where he was born) and Mauritania and Algeria where he worked and spent some of the most memorable years of his life. We watched them on my ipod in the pub. We later went back to the house and he got out his photographs of Algeria and for a short time we forgot about the cancer as we were engrossed in tales of billet life which would put 'Auf Wiedersehen' Pet to shame.
Just before Dad went into hospital I managed to break the patio door and I remember dad breathless and pale as alabaster, crouching down on the floor trying to fix it. He worked and endeavoured right up until the end.
During an earlier trip out to Manchester to pick up some photographic prints we talked about his illness and his thoughts on dying. He told me that he wasn't afraid of dying and that he had had the most amazing time since his diagnosis. He also noted how privileged he was to have had a wonderful life, and a caring wife in Mum. Over the previous year, Dad had made a secret and concerted effort to prepare Mum and the house for his leaving. People who live nearby may have seen Dad tinkering about the house, fixing the guttering, building a new fence and installing a downstairs loo. He traded the old car in for a new one, which was just the right size for mum. He told me that he had marked the quality of his life on a cancer assessment form as 85% during his Chemotherapy. The fact is that dad had managed to defeat his illness in his mind, and value the days he had left. This is not to say that he wasn't always happy, and I must pay a tribute to the never ending work, devotion and care that my mum has given Dad. One of his fondest activities was simply sitting in the back conservatory watching mum in the garden. The garden became dad's refuge and mental stimulant and must have added months to his life. I have fond memories of Dad sitting with his binoculars and a book in his hand recording which birds had visited the garden that day.
Dad died in a hospice nearby. He died on my wedding anniversary (he wished us a 'happy anniversary') - a fact of which I am proud and not sad.
Dad's funeral service will be at Long Street Methodist Church - a fitting place.
Dad, to me, you were a father, mentor, soul-mate and best friend.
I tell people, when asked, that I am fine and put on a smiling face - but I am not, and as I write this, I weep for your loss and what it has done to me inside.
This is my new Halo Reach/Multiplayer Moc. It doesn't realy resemble a specific map, just some of the different abilities you can use on the video game: Halo Reach, such as running, jet pack, energy shield. Also, it can be opened to get a better (clear) view at it (Moc "not opened"right now). Click on the link to watch it opened: www.flickr.com/photos/53675253@N07/5196350761/
youtube channel: www.youtube.com/user/TheLegoReloaded
Brickforge (guns): www.brickforge.com/store/
TheLegoReloaded
Taken at Swingers restaurant, enjoying the night life. Had some good chili cheese fries, the service was terrible. I've heard that they are infamously known for their rude service, which is very strange. This was the last shot of the 24 exposure roll, pushed to 400.
1/30 f/1.8
Nikon N2020 - E Class 50mm - 200 Kodak Gold
Santa Monica, CA
The photo in March of our obscure and unusual left hand drive XMQ6900, well it is outside now parked up in the corner...here is the cab area.
There were thousands upon thousands of people attending this year's Dogwood Festival in Atlanta on April 11th, 2015...a beautiful Spring day in the South. Away from the huge crowds a few youthful Volleyball games were underway and I spotted this older gentleman sitting by himself staring at the players down on the fields. What his real thoughts were, I'll never know, because I did not choose to interrupt his concentration. But I can imagine that as he seemed to watch the games taking place, he could well have been recalling his days of youth, apparently gone forever, and replaced by the cane that is now his friend.
I know its a day late, but we (Peggy and I) didnt get out to the cemetery until this morning. We visited Riverside National Veterans Cemetery.
This POW MIA memorial was very moving!!!
Thanks to all the men and women who who serve this country without a second thought... you have made this country what it is. And to those who have served and died for our right to freedom, you will always be remembered!!! Thank you all for our freedom!!!!!
There are a few more pictures in the comments below.
05/30/2011
Best on Black www.fluidr.com/photos/barrentrees
Ah I am so delighted summer is almost here! Things are slowing down for me a bit before I start traveling again. As always I have missed you all when I can't find my way to Flickr, but so glad to be here today! These captures were taken in Cabo San Lucas in January. If you happen to recognize this gal, yes, long shot I know, but please let me know, because I have at least 25 shots that I would love to give her. I was just behind the scenes while her photographer was clicking away. I was so delighted to happen upon this fun moment! Hope you enjoy :)
FOOD FOR THOUGHT:
“So it's not gonna be easy.It's going to be really hard; we're gonna have to work at this everyday, but I want to do that because I want you.I want all of you, forever, everyday.You and me everyday.” Sparks
"Marriage" by Chuck Swindoll...."It's rough. It's tough. It's work. Anybody who says it isn't. Has never been married. Marriage has far bigger problems Than toothpaste squeezed From the middle of the tube.Marriage means Grappling, aching, struggling It means putting up With personality weaknesses Accepting criticism And giving each other freedom to fail It means sharing deep feelings About fear and rejection It means turning self-pity into laughter And taking a walk to gain self-control. Marriage means Gentleness and joy Toughness and fortitude Fairness and forgiveness And a great amount of sacrifice Marriage means Learning when to say nothing When to keep talking When to push a little When to back off It means acknowledging I can't be God to you I need Him, too.Marriage means...You are the other part of me I am the other part of you We'll work through With never a thought of walking out Marriage means Two imperfect mates Giving totally In partnership with a perfect God Marriage, my love, means us.
"Love—the Greatest of All"
I may be able to speak the languages of men and even of angels, but if I do not have love, it will sound like noisy brass. 2 If I have the gift of speaking God’s Word and if I understand all secrets, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I know all things and if I have the gift of faith so I can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. 3 If I give everything I have to feed poor people and if I give my body to be burned, but do not have love, it will not help me. 4 Love does not give up. Love is kind. Love is not jealous. Love does not put itself up as being important. Love has no pride. 5 Love does not do the wrong thing. Love never thinks of itself. Love does not get angry. Love does not remember the suffering that comes from being hurt by someone. 6 Love is not happy with sin. Love is happy with the truth. 7 Love takes everything that comes without giving up. Love believes all things. Love hopes for all things. Love keeps on in all things.8 Love never comes to an end. The gift of speaking God’s Word will come to an end. The gift of speaking in special sounds will be stopped. The gift of understanding will come to an end. 9 For we only know a part now, and we speak only a part. 10 When everything is perfect, then we will not need these gifts that are not perfect.11 When I was a child, I spoke like a child. I thought like a child. I understood like a child. Now I am a man. I do not act like a child anymore. 12 Now that which we see is as if we were looking in a broken mirror. But then we will see everything. Now I know only a part. But then I will know everything in a perfect way. That is how God knows me right now. 13 And now we have these three: faith and hope and love, but the greatest of these is love." 1 Corinthians 13
May God's extravagant love touch your life today! Blessings, to you all! :)
A beautiful specimen of 'Remember Me' photographed at Benalla Rose Garden in early November.
I'll be away for a few days... please don't forget me!! :-)
'See' you next week.
The sea that nourished its people,
turbulent and dark...
Lives taken, earth reclaimed...
Ocean of destruction... people of calm-
Serene chaos... we bid you courage...
We remember you, crying porcelain skin...
broken, but not dead- live further thy courage...
...we remember.
Photo probably by Dennis Garner.
Carving from 1973. The story here.
Erica has some great scans of slides that her uncle Don Antoine (one of the carvers) took during the carving.
Erica found an article her dad wrote about the carving and submitted to Rolling Stone in 1975 (they never published it).
Foto di Bellegotti Francesco ©
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