AFTER THE DELUGE

An emergency blip.

You can see this is hand held. The tripod is in the corner. The pic is shot from the other corner so that if I straighten one wall the other goes squint. Sigh. You can also see that these things need to be washed. The room where it was stored still reeks of mould.

I am feeling persecuted and crowded out by stuff. There are only three things on this table I want and if those crashed to the tile floor I wouldn't shed any tears. Many of these things were gifts. This is only the tip of the iceberg. You cannot see the grot on the floor. Garage and car boot sales do not exist in Italy, at least not in this part of it. The one flea market/second hand shop had to close because people like new things, not old ones that belonged to somebody else first. The only charity in town is the Catholic church.

Today, I have to go to the camera shot and try to get the macro lens I bought there exchanged. It has never worked properly but I thought it was my fault because I didn't know how to use it. I have discovered, however, that early versions of this lens have a fault and that Nikon exchanges them, no questions asked. But ah-ha, explain that to a don't-care young assistant -- in Italian. What is my fault is that I can't find the guarantee. I can find it for all the other equipment I bought there but not this lens.

I am in big trouble.

For the record: Thick fog in the morning, sun later. +13 C.