The day started at some indeterminate time for me. My bladder is playing up a bit and it’s difficult to tell where the night ends and the day begins. It’s really just a continuum of decreasing darkness at this time of year. When winter comes it will be simpler as it will still be dark when we rise. I was up several times in the night and when my 7am alarm rang, I turned over, muttered and decided an extra 10 minutes wouldn’t hurt. On the other side of the bed Julia was turning hers off and muttering too. I thought this was a bit rich, because it was her fault we had to set the alarms.
Today is the local village show and Julia’s entries had to be taken across, with the hall opening at 8.30. It was clear that it had opened sooner because all the decent (eye level) spaces had been taken on the boards. Now, to me, this is not an insurmountable problem. They are secured by velcro dots and are easy to remove and reposition elsewhere, leaving space for Julia’s shots in the judges’ eyeline. Of course, she wouldn’t let me do it. There’s nothing in the rule book to stop you doing it, but according to Julia it’s not right. Ethically, she’s probably right, but as an ex-antique dealer I am morally bankrupt, and have been for years. If my wife wants to enter a photographic competition, I want to secure every possible advantage for her.
If you want to discuss ethics, many of the people at the hall have big cars, some of them live in cottages that used to hold more than one family, most of them treat it as a dormitory rather than a home. We may have only moved in last year, but if you go back to the late 1960s I went to all the village schools, from infant through to secondary, I worked for a company based in the village, and I helped with various community projects. I have a right to be a cunning county dweller and try to get one over on the incomers. In fact, it’s not just a right, it’s a duty. A line of rural rebels is calling out for me to right the photo positioning wrong, including John Gregson the fugitive Chartist. Well, I have an ancestor called John Gregson, and the authorities were hunting a Chartist called John Gregson at the same time and in the same area that my ancestor was living there. It’s a possibility rather than a fact, but when the possibility is more interesting than the fact, print the possibility.
Come to think about it, it isn’t too late to sneak back and do it now . . .
Actually, Julia says it is too late, so that’s an end to that. Nothing for it but to sit back and wait for the results this afternoon. Can you believe she actually referred to i as “cheating”?
Cheating? Never……
That would just be overly competitive and out of balance with my ethos as a bumbling idiot. 🙂
Best of luck to Julia, Simon. No, you can’t cheat no matter unfair it seems.
Interesting philosophical point there Lavinia. 🙂 It’s only cheating when someone else does it. If I did it, it would merely be improving our chances.
her own
The winners used SLRs and Photoshop. Julia used a phone. I was merely expressing a desire to level the playing field.
I have to agree with Julia, for this reason: my sister Elizabeth invited me to add exhibits to display in the own large workroom. A professional arrived early and commandeered the best wall
I gave up taking pictures to local shows because they were often displayed so badly. What is the point of doing your best if spectators have to crouch to see your work in very poor light?
That is true. We did it to join in and support the show, but found ourselves up against a number of people who took it very seriously. 🙂
Once again, I must side with Julia. I seem to do that quite a bit, don’t I? 😉 Best of luck to Julia! That bottom picture is absolutely gorgeous. Also, I think “The Cunning Country Dweller” would make a great title.
(Sigh . . .) We men stand no chance.
😉
If it’s between your wife and the owner of a huge car, definitely cheat
🙂 My view exactly!