I’ve encountered quite a lot of kindness along the way of doing 52 Rolls. At least three people have bequeathed me their stashes of expired film, the Impossible Project were generous when I ordered the wrong polaroid film and had return it and a very kind man has given me cameras, bought me cake, coffee and leant me his ear. In fact, he’s been good enough to become my friend.
This week’s expired film is from a close workmate and fellow skinny dipper, Jane, once a keen photographer herself. However, the roll of Ilford 400 B&W film seemed destined to be trapped in its canister and so she very kindly posted it so me along with a good stash of other film. So, when an email came from Karen to say that we needed to get together or else, then it seemed like the right occasion to take this film out and show it a good time. Or at least some photons. I'm pretty sure I used the Canon AE-1 for this.
Karen is officially my Aunt (and has kindly supplied me with an Uncle Bob, so Bob really is my Uncle). However, a wild generation gap and a bit of meeting in the middle means that our kids are the same age, which has been brilliant as my sister has only just had the decency to make me an Aunty.
So, my cousins became my pseudo-nieces and still are…and now they’re at that difficult age. Still, considering the terrifying mix of boys v. girls our families now consist of, I think it went rather well, my youngest aside…
Please feel free to smirk at my predicament. We hike in jeans despite warnings from all good walking sources that this will lead to certain death should the heavens open. They have good walking gear. My son forgot to bring a coat – that’s my spare he’s wearing. The girls more or less obediently walk. My youngest stages a sit in. The girls pose sweetly for photos…my kids pull faces. They don’t swear. I do. The saving grace is that I caught these two beautiful mostly vegetarian, organically grown creatures gnashing their way through a Ginsters sausage roll. Monsters.
Still, the walk went rather well. Chrome Hill (owned and named by Google Chrome*) is also known as the Dragon’s Back. Aye, I thought – even the spiniest ridges are never that bad when you’re actually on them though, are they? So, as various members of the family opted for the sensible route around the hill, I scrambled up a vertical incline after Uncle Bob, right behind my smallest pseudo-niece. If she could do it, so could I, right? Hmm – it seems I could but only with a bit of shaking and help down off the hill from my watchful eldest lad (in deeply unsuitable Clockwork Orange T-shirt) as everyone waited. Ah, the shame…
But then – the reward. We were back in time for a pint at The Pub. Not just any pub. I’d been told tales of it along the route, about how the landlord only sold pork pies and other family bar staff based horrors. But nothing could really have prepared me for the full joy that this place would bring. You HAVE to go there. It’s one of those places that will die with the Landlord – a quintessentially Derbyshire pub if ever there was one. The League of Gentlemen missed a trick when they didn’t use this place. Or maybe they just twisted it into the household with the colour coded towels and the frogs.
For starters, it was called the Quiet Woman. The poor wench on the sign HAS NO HEAD. There’s a newer sign on the roadside too which isn’t much better. And the whole place is still in the 1980’s – it would be earlier but church ROOF ALARMS are clearly space age technology.
You can camp there too, but you mustn’t wash your pots in the loo sinks. Not that you’d want to when you see the grey towel on the rail. I bet it speaks to you after a few pints.
There are useful notes around the place, to help you maximise your enjoyment of the facilities.
TABLE TRAYS
Please do not remove from their tables.
Packets from Snacks have to be collected and removed.
Anyone putting waste into empty glasses will hear harsh words from the Landlord.
I suspect when I return they’ll be a note asking me not to snigger and take pictures of the signs, and something about unauthorised reproduction of the words being prohibited.
We took our leave before we could get into proper trouble – but not before finding an ancient sticker designed by Uncle Bob himself!
Cheesey family photo time. Spot the freaks that belong to me…
And so, another day of the decendents of Booth passed by happily.
*This may not be true.
PS.I do not have cats to complete the last two frames so meet Rietta and Vienna…Rietta has since become very bold and I found The Teenager cleaning up her poo from my office as few weeks ago. Awww.
Technical Shit:
After being a bit disappointed by Rodinal on my last two B&W films, I used Ilfotech HC 1:31 8 mins to dev this lot. I think I like it more.
I accidentally threw my fix down the sink again. Must stop doing that.