Portrait Awards visit

I made an amazing a discovery this morning at swimming. Often the last few metres I just use my arms, and I noticed I was going at much the same speed as when I used my legs. I tried out a whole length. I then timed the length. Yep. Exactly the same as when I kick! How can this be? My rudimentary understanding of physics leads me to believe that something should happen when I kick my legs - ie that I should move forward.

Still puzzling over this discovery of my legs which defy physics, I went into town with the intention of seeing the BP Portrait Awards at the Portrait Gallery. When I arrived in town it was white - it had recently had a hailstorm! This was pleasantly crunchy underfoot, but unpleasantly slippery when going downhill.

I must say, I'm very happy with new camera bag. It sits snugly on my back, high up, and so the weight is right in the middle. I hardly notice it. It's much better than the one I had before which was on my right hip and therefore unbalanced.

The exhibition was interesting - some wonderful portraits, and some you really had to look closely to make sure it wasn't a photograph. Not sure I'd like the winning one in my lounge, but it was brilliantly done.

However, my visit was sabotaged somewhat by a crowd a class of teenagers, with no visible teacher in charge, jostling round paintings and writing notes. This made it impossible to get near some as they were there for a while (slow writers). When they were not jostling in front of portraits they were just being generally rowdy. I think the teachers had scarpered off to the cafe.

This shot is of the central hall. I had two attendants come and speak to me almost simultaneously. One to say that I couldn't take a photo, and the other to say that I could. I'd already asked on another visit, so I knew it was allowed in this part.

As I left, another swarm class of schoolchildren arrived...

Went to My Club. Funnily enough, they didn't enquire as to my whereabouts for the past month or so. Read the papers, had a coffee and NO digestives. Though there was a tiny wee pastry left and my hand, of its own accord, grabbed it, and was it gobbled up before my coffee was poured, so I don't think that counts.

I shall relax and read a book watch Boardwalk Empire this afternoon. And I'll have an apple instead of that shortbread...