Rotten Turnips

It’s a slightly stormy Sunday at the edge of Armageddon. But that’s not stopped young farmer George taking Rufus Hound for a brief walk around the docks after dropping off a consignment of rotten turnips. 

Local ‘businessman’ (you can see him between the engine and the crane) and ladies’ man, Terry Tuttle-Thomas-Smythe, has discovered that fermented turnip makes a great inexpensive addition to the mash in the latest moonshine recipes. The docklands here providing many opportunities for covert moonshine production, with its many empty buildings, storage tanks, and ‘security’ who are in on the act. 

Much to George’s surprise, young flirty popsy of the butter blending department at the local creamery, Deidre Dinkle has just alighted from the train. And unless you’ve been under a rock quivering behind a plague mask for the last few months avoiding any eye contact, will know that George has been trying take Deidre for a ride on his throbbing tractor, albeit unsuccessfully for some time. 

Quite why Deidre is here I’m unsure, but being very much a people person, I imagine she’s involved in moonshine sales, especially with the build up to Christmas and recent price hikes of legal booze. So, I’m sure she and Terry’s dodgy business will do well. 

I almost forgot Harry the Hammer stood to the right, his been fixing something on the crane with his trusty hammer (that’s his only tool btw). And as usual, is almost at the end of his shift, that always being the case irrespective of the time of day.

As for George, will Deidre get to ride on George’s throbbing tractor? Sadly, that I’m less sure of - but I’m sure the tales will continue. 

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And back to reality; as a test, this photo was taken on my slightly elderly iPhone 7, shooting via the Adobe Lightroom app which allows *RAW capture - something that is desirable for serious photography (*Google why). The results were then *focus-stacked to increase depth of field (*Google that as well, but I’m not giving anything else away ‘cos it’s my day job), and then tossed in to the glitter of Photoshop. I however want to illustrate that almost any camera is suitable - and as with any tool or musical instrument, the bit holding it or behind it, is the most important bit. For we all know that buying a posh typewriter doesn’t necessarily turn you in to a great author, that bit has to be learned. 

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If you enjoy these snippets of nonsense, you can buy me a beer at www.buymeacoffee.com/Nevardmedi3