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July 12, 2007

Sam Stockley

Copyright © 2007 Nick Hudgell

Camera: Canon EOS 350D
Lens: Canon 70-300mm f/4-5.6 IS USM
Filter: UV
Date: 11th July 2007
Location: Holmer Green, Bucks, UK
Focal Length: 70mm (equivalent focal length: 114mm)
Shutter: 1/1600s
Aperture: F/5
ISO: 400
White Balance: auto
Comments: Shot from the sidelines at a pre-season run out for Wycombe Wanderers against a local team – Holmer Green FC.
Post–processing: Shot in RAW, cropped and converted


June 02, 2007

Goal!


Copyright © 2007 Nick Hudgell

Camera: Sony DSC-S80
Date: 1st June 2007
Location: Wembley Stadium
Focal Length: 6mm (apparently, not sure I believe it)
Shutter: 1/200s
Aperture: F/2.8
ISO: 80
White Balance: auto
Comments: A young england fan taunts the brazilians
Post–processing:


May 23, 2007

Quack


Copyright © 2007 Nick Hudgell

Camera: Canon EOS 350D
Lens: Sigma 18–200mm f3.5–6.3 DC
Filter: UV + Circular Polariser
Date: 22nd May 2007
Location: Leamington Spa
Focal Length: 200mm (equivalent focal length: 325mm)
Shutter: 1/60s
Aperture: F/7.1
ISO: 100
White Balance: auto
Comments:
Post–processing: Cropped slightly


May 16, 2007

Baby Duckling


Copyright © 2007 Nick Hudgell

Camera: Canon EOS 350D
Lens: Canon 50mm f1.8 II
Filter: none
Date: 16th May 2007
Location: Leamington Spa
Focal Length: 50mm (equivalent focal length: 83mm)
Shutter: 1/320s
Aperture: F/2
ISO: 100
White Balance: auto
Comments:
Post–processing: Cropped slightly


Daddy Duck


Copyright © 2007 Nick Hudgell

Camera: Canon EOS 350D
Lens: Canon 50mm f1.8 II
Filter: none
Date: 16th May 2007
Location: Leamington Spa
Focal Length: 50mm (equivalent focal length: 83mm)
Shutter: 1/320s
Aperture: F/2
ISO: 100
White Balance: auto
Comments:
Post–processing: Cropped slightly


Ugly Duckling


Copyright © 2007 Nick Hudgell

Camera: Canon EOS 350D
Lens: Canon 50mm f1.8 II
Filter: none
Date: 16th May 2007
Location: Leamington Spa
Focal Length: 50mm (equivalent focal length: 83mm)
Shutter: 1/500s
Aperture: F/2
ISO: 100
White Balance: auto
Comments: He was pretty ugly, not much colour on him, so went for b/w. Will do a colour one later.
Post–processing: Cropped slightly and increased highlights.


May 15, 2007

Gateway to field


Copyright © 2007 Nick Hudgell

Camera: Canon EOS 350D
Lens: Sigma 18–200mm f3.5–6.3 DC
Filter: UV
Date: 12th May 2007
Location: Leamington Spa
Focal Length: 18mm (equivalent focal length: 30mm)
Shutter: 1/2000s
Aperture: F/5.6
ISO: 200
White Balance: auto
Comments:
Post–processing: b/w and cropped slightly


May 14, 2007

Pink Face


Photo Copyright © 2007 Nick Hudgell (Unknown Graffiti Artist)

Camera: Canon EOS 350D
Lens: Sigma 18–200mm f3.5–6.3 DC
Filter: UV
Date: 12th May 2007
Location: Leamington Spa
Focal Length: 18mm (equivalent focal length: 30mm)
Shutter: 1/800s
Aperture: F/5.6
ISO: 200
White Balance: auto
Comments:
Post–processing: Cropped slightly on sides


May 13, 2007

Leam Graff


Photo Copyright © 2007 Nick Hudgell (Unknown Graffiti Artist)

Camera: Canon EOS 350D
Lens: Sigma 18–200mm f3.5–6.3 DC
Filter: UV
Date: 12th May 2007
Location: Leamington Spa
Focal Length: 18mm (equivalent focal length: 30mm)
Shutter: 1/400s
Aperture: F/5.6
ISO: 200
White Balance: auto
Comments: I really like impressive and clever (clever such as banksy, I don’t class this as clever!) graffiti and am trying to capture lots of it around Warwickshire.
Post–processing: Cropped slightly top and bottom


May 06, 2007

Funny cause it's true

Writing about web page http://www.insane.com/jokes-1973-vs-2007/

Check out this parody on events that happen in 1973 compared to if they happened in 2007. Very funny. Some of the comments after are even more funny, like:

Comment by Scott: this is really not funny

Comment by Andrew: not funny if you are a moron or a democrat.

It’s funny anyway, have a read!


April 26, 2007

Why Ultimate players make the best lovers

Writing about web page http://www.nerve.com/dispatches/zagoria/catchandrelease/

I suggest you read this it’s very true ;)


April 05, 2007

White Daffodil


Copyright © 2007 Nick Hudgell

Camera: Canon EOS 350D
Lens: Canon 70-300mm f/4-5.6 IS USM
Filter: UV
Date: 1st April 2007
Location: Amersham, UK
Focal Length: 180mm (equivalent focal length: 292mm)
Shutter: 1/400s
Aperture: F/5.6
ISO: 200
White Balance: auto
Comments:
Post–processing:


Pump Rooms


Copyright © 2007 Nick Hudgell

Camera: Canon EOS 350D
Lens: Sigma 18–200mm f3.5–6.3 DC
Filter: UV
Date: 18th Feb 2007
Location: Royal Spa Pump Rooms, Leamington Spa
Focal Length: 18mm (equivalent focal length: 30mm)
Shutter: 1/250s
Aperture: F/13
ISO: 400
White Balance: auto
Comments: Being resized to fit on here doesn’t do it justice. Bigger here
Post–processing: Cropped.


March 14, 2007

Mechano


Copyright © 2007 Nick Hudgell

Camera: Canon EOS 350D
Lens: Sigma 18–200mm f3.5–6.3 DC
Filter: UV
Date: 18th Feb 2007
Location: Jefferson Gardens, Leamington Spa
Focal Length: 18mm (equivalent focal length: 30mm)
Shutter: 1/250s
Aperture: F/10
ISO: 400
White Balance: auto
Comments: I have no idea why the apperture was set at 10, but hey!
Post–processing: Cropped and b/w.


Top 5 things people should learn in school

Writing about web page http://briankim.net/blog/2007/03/top-5-things-that-should-be-taught-in-every-school/

I think that this website has it all right. Education is compulsory, but why is that if today’s children are not taught anything worthwhile?! Surely there should be a radical reform to make sure that we give our children the right start in life.


Parish Church


Copyright © 2007 Nick Hudgell

Camera: Canon EOS 350D
Lens: Sigma 18–200mm f3.5–6.3 DC
Filter: UV
Date: 18th Feb 2007
Location: Parish Church, Leamington Spa
Focal Length: 18mm (equivalent focal length: 30mm)
Shutter: 1/400s
Aperture: F/10
ISO: 400
White Balance: auto
Comments: Whilst being one of my favourite photos at the moment, it gives a clear example of the barrel distortion you get on this lens at the wide angle. It’s not so evident with further zoom, but is a bit rediculous really!
Post–processing: none


March 11, 2007

House Sidearm


Copyright © 2007 Nick Hudgell

Camera: Canon EOS 350D
Lens: Canon 70-300mm f/4-5.6 IS USM
Filter: UV
Date: 28th Feb 2007
Location: Ultimate Frisbee Pitch, Uni of Warwick
Focal Length: 150mm (equivalent focal length: 244mm)
Shutter: 1/320s
Aperture: F/5
ISO: 400
White Balance: Cloudy
Comments: House unleashes a sidearm up the line.
Post–processing: none


JLo Layout


Copyright © 2007 Nick Hudgell

Camera: Canon EOS 350D
Lens: Canon 70-300mm f/4-5.6 IS USM
Filter: UV
Date: 28th Feb 2007
Location: Ultimate Frisbee Pitch, Uni of Warwick
Focal Length: 140mm (equivalent focal length: 228mm)
Shutter: 1/400s
Aperture: F/5
ISO: 400
White Balance: Cloudy
Comments: my gripe with this is that I didn’t quite catch it in time and thus it’s out of focus. I really wish it was in focus then it’d be one of my favourite photos.
Post–processing: Cropped quite a lot


March 09, 2007

Three Pint Challenge

Copyright © 2007 Nick Hudgell

Camera: Canon EOS 350D
Lens: Sigma 18–200mm f3.5–6.3 DC
Filter: UV
Date: 7th March 2007
Location: Varsity, Uni of Warwick
Focal Length: 88mm (equivalent focal length: 143mm)
Shutter: 1/100s
Aperture: F/5.6
ISO: 800
White Balance: auto
Comments: The nemesis of all Ultimate Players: the Three Pint Challenge. Albeit finished.
Post–processing: none


March 05, 2007

What would you do

Here is a hypothetical situation:

If you had £2000 to invest, and could invest in whatever you wanted be it shares, bank account etc what would you do?

p.s. this is not some attempt to get some free financial advice, I’ve not got £2000 to invest!!


October 30, 2006

Mother's Ruin

Oh dear. I have been home again for only two days, and already there is a problem.

The problem is this: we have no gin.

Seems quite simple, does it not? Not so much a problem as a small hiccup between trips to Tesco. There is no gin, therefore we put it on the shopping list and buy it next time we go up. Then we can have gin and tonic and sit around whilst we argue about whose turn it is to cook and who failed to notice we were out of chopped tomatoes*. Huzzah. There may even be some olives, which is always nice.

However, this fails to factor in one other quite important point of note: my mother.

You see, way back in the beginning of the summer, when I moved back in, my mother was against the presence of The Gin. Gin was a bad thing: it was expensive, bad for our health, and an all round Extravagant Bad Habit. Nevertheless, as a twenty-something non-smoker and ex-caffeine addict, I felt that I was allowed an EBH; moreover that it was my positive duty as a young person to keep up one EBH; and so I fought for The Gin, and The Gin stayed. As did some tonic and half a lemon wrapped up in clingfilm in the fridge, but they were just optional extras, and you know, nice.

So The Gin entered our lives. Only for half an hour a couple of times a week, of course, but it soon became a regular fixture.

And soon after that, it was not down to me offering to make us a nice drink with my mother yielding delicately and naughtily after a little persuasion, it was my mother coming in and going ‘pour us one, go on’ and as she drank, rolling her eyes and telling me what a bad influence I was, and if it wasn’t for me she wouldn’t be drinking it. But apparently, despite the way the tables have turned, I am still responsible for driving my mother to a drink once or twice a week.

And now that we have no gin, a whole new dilemma is born.

There are four possibilities:

1. Buy more gin. Allow vicious cycle and recriminations to continue, but also ensure that gin and tonics are available for weekends and the odd ‘needing a drink’ times. But then must shoulder the guilt placed upon me by mother.

2. Buy more gin with own money. Mother feels grateful to me for allowing her to share, and therefore blame is lifted from my shoulders as am doing a Good Thing. But I have very little money.

3. Don’t buy gin. Although technically sensible option, will end up going to pub to buy drinks, and as mentioned before, have very little money. And when friends come round, will have nothing to offer them but tap water and something disgusting in a 2ltr bottle in the fridge that my brother abandoned when he went off to university. Maybe even end up trying this out of desperation and dying from rabies or similar.

4. Buy something less desirable to mother. However, as proved by the ‘Baileys Is Such A Teenage Drink’ debacle of six Christmases ago, this could be difficult.

There is, of course, option five, which is waiting for my mother to crack and purchase some gin herself, unprompted by me or a shopping list. However, this could horribly backfire and still all be my fault, and moreover be a far worse offence than merely persuading her to buy the stuff in the first place. I’m not sure I want to wait for this to happen, and should it happen, it may even tip me over into teetotalism (for a month at least, until the scandal dies down.)

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*In this house there are either too many cans of chopped tomatoes or not enough. It is impossible to have a satisfactory number of cans. Much research has been done, many experiments have been carried out, but it is a problem that will probably never have a solution.


August 07, 2006

Only Collect

I have a problem.

My problem is with Stuff.

Stuff, it should be noted, is not Crap. Where as Crap applies to all those objects which are, essentially useless and pointless whimsies*, Stuff applies to things that one day will have a purpose. You can identify Stuff by the arguments about said Stuff that usually result in conversations along the lines of:
'What's this?'
'That's my oogamaflip.'
'When are you ever going to use that? Chuck it.'
'But what happens when one day, I want to flip my oogas, and I haven't got my oogamaflip? What then?'

Stuff is all those things that one day, somewhere, sometime, will be used, in a universe where everyone flips oogas on a regular basis and the sun shines and money trees grow out of the ground and your hair is always, always ,shiny and flicky and gorgeous.

So, you see, Stuff and I have a somewhat precarious relationship. It needs me to pretend that one day I will use it and it will have a purpose, and I need it to pretend that one day I will be living a life where I will use it and it will have a purpose. It's co–dependency, of sorts.

And it worked, whilst I had two homes. My Stuff could be distributed evenly between the Wirral and the Leamington, and so as I moved my Useful Items back and forth with me, the ratio of Useful Items:Stuff in any place in which I was living stayed at roughly 50:50, which is about the level present in any normal household.

The problem has only arisen since I've crammed all of my Stuff into one room again, and now, by some fluke, the levels of Useful Items to Stuff are heavily unbalanced, listing somewhere around 30:70. My Stuff surrounds me, and taunts me with all the things I could, one day, do, and I dare not open my wardrobe, for fear of a rain of flippertygibbets, thingamajigs, and gadgeterijitas.

And yet, if I throw them all out, what then? It's like admitting to myself that I will never live a life that requires any of these things; that I will be living a Thoroughly Useful Life for the rest of my days, and that in itself is more terrifying than possible concussion every time I need a clean T–shirt. My Stuff gives me hope that one day, despite 9–6 and minimum pay, life will be a bit luxurious, a little frivolous and ever–so–ever–so slightly bizarre around the edges.

So the Stuff must stay, at least until I look in a mirror, see grey hair and wrinkles, and accept the fact that I will never flip an ooga again. But, to be quite honest, if I was still wrinkly and aged and living at home, I'd probably have bigger things to worry about than Stuff.

—————————————————————————————————

*Whimsies count as crap except in the case of those suffering from a Whimsy Addiction. Depending on the severity of the case, they can be classed as either Stuff or Useful Items, although you may need to prduce your medical records before a reclassification can take place.


July 01, 2006

Just me and the yellow wallpaper

I'm not used to living in a room with nothing on the walls. Apart from the blutac stains (please still give me my deposit back, Mr Landlord…), all my posters, cards and odds and ends of material and fairy lights are now all sitting in bags in the spare room, probably causing some sort of health and safety hazard. It's all very odd.

And to add to that, now that there's no wistful Pre–Raphaelite women and pretty cityscapes to distract my attention, I've been forced to contemplate just how weird the colour of my walls actually is. I'm sure they weren't like that before. I'm positive they were a lovely shade of cream, not the colour of goopy mustard.

I'm also sure my typing never used to sound so loud and echoey and ghostly, and my floorboards didn't used to creak in such an ominous way. And just now, my wardrobe door mysteriously swung open, for no good reason, in a way I've never seen it do before. I'm waiting for the lightbulb to flicker, my candle to gutter, and strange shadows to be thrown across the wall. I have this feeling this could all go horribly Charlotte Perkins Gilman, and tomorrow will see me being carted out of the house in one of those complicated straitjacket things and sent off to a Victorian madhouse.

Having said that, it's nice to think of this room as haunted by objects past. I like to think, when I leave tomorrow, I'll leave a little of me in this room (not counting the blutac stains). It's been a wonderful final year, in a wonderful house, with wonderful housemates and wonderful friends, and I couldn't have asked for more.

Hmm. I was going to actually write something about how I can't break the habit of carrying my university card around with me, despite the fact that is is now merely a useless piece of plastic with a really bad photo of me being eighteen and trying and failing to look pretty (because I was a hopeless, if hopeful, teenager) but I think this entry has descended so far into mush that there's no hope for it now.

But if ever a moment was deserving of mush, this is probably it. Thank you to everyone who has made this year what it was. I'm going to miss you all so much.


June 28, 2006

Ten Things In Our House

The Cupboard of Doom
Nobody mentioned, when we signed the house lease, that we would have a fifth housemate waiting for us. Or more specifically, waiting for me, on the night I moved in before everyone else. My mother had left me, night had fallen, and it was only then, on my own, in the dark, that I saw there was a curious door under the stairs, and decided that obviously, on my own, in the dark, it was a good idea to investigate said door. So, I pulled it gaily open, only to be confronted by a dismembered doll head splattered with a red substance gleaming evilly in the electric light.

That, readers, was, and continues to be the Barbie Head Of Doom. She sits in the window in the cupboard under the stairs, and we like to think of her as our house guardian for scaring burglars and disconcerting our house guests, kind of like a bull mastiff but pinker and more smiley. And after my first shock, I have come to feel more affectionate towards her, and will actually be sorry to bid her adieu.

My Desk
My desk is beautiful. No really, it is. It's made of real wood and everything, and has beautiful slidey drawers and a lovely solid polished top. And to think it almost wasn't mine.

You see, when we moved in, my room almost had it all. Almost. There was a bed, bookcase, dressing table and wardrobe, but no desk. And even though I tend to do most of my studying, such as it is, in/on bed, I felt I needed a surface on which to stack the books I hadn't read and to write the to do lists of things I would never actually do. So when the landlord came over, I sheepishly asked him if I could have a desk, and moreover, if he could possibly find me a desk that would fit in the niche I'd left for it.

Surprisingly, he smiled and nodded, and said 'Of course. You've made it look really nice in here – it would be a shame to have to mess it up." This was on the night he came round at 9pm with his toolbox and also rehung a door, fixed the toilet lock, and brought a new mattress for my housemate. And at 3pm the next day, he pulled up in his car with my lovely solid wood desk that fitted perfectly in the space. We love Spa Estates. Anyone looking for South Leam houses next year, go to Spa. They are lovely lovely people, and deserve your business.

Our living room ceiling
Our living room isn't really a room, as such. It only really has one wall, which is the exterior wall of our house, and which also includes our kitchen window and the sliding glass door leading to Steve's room. The other three walls are plastic conservatory windows, and as for the roof… well, it's a beautiful construction of corrugated translucent plastic.There's also a small paint–splattered basin, and a mains drainage cover which you can have hours of fun bouncing up and down on. It's surprising how quickly you get used to it, and also how useful the kitchen window is as a service hatch.

Spongebob the toilet
When you flush our downstairs toilet, it sounds like Spongebob Squarepants. That is, if you can get it to flush without sticking your hand inside the tank and tugging at random bits of the mechanism. It is also decorated with some interesting mould patterns on the walls, and is home to a wide variety of wildlife, including the famous biting spider discovered by Layla, and several families of woodlice. It's like Nature Corner. We're probably doing our bit for several endangered insect species, and probably creating a few exciting mutant ones as well.

The inexplicable hole in my ceiling
There has been speculation, there have been theories. There has even been brief and fruitless investigation. All that can be ascertained is that it is there, and it is now forever inexplicable.

Steve's window
Steve has a window that is not so much a window as a sliding door leading to the living room. It's quite useful as an escape route for situations when unexpected guests arrive and we're caught in the living room in pyjamas and no makeup. And in most situations, instead of cowering behind the freezer as happened on one notable occasion, we can slip silently through Steve's room and hightail it up the stairs before anyone is the wiser. Cowering behind the freezer is only useful as a last resort, and if the unexpected guest is a certain boy, it's fairly fruitless, as he will chase after you. You have been warned.

The Stairs of Intellect
Every intelligent discussion we've ever had in this house has been conducted on the stairs. Despite having four nice bedrooms and a well–appointed living room, we will still gather on the stairs. Jess sits at the top, Layla near the bottom, and I favour the turn of the stairs, as I can curl up in a corner and nod sagely. If all discussions about world politics and religion happened on a flight of stairs, I'm sure the world would be a better place for it.

The 'orchard'
Our garden is a carport, a mysterious shed, and two fruit trees. These two trees have gradually been trying to take over the house and have had to be restrained at various points over the year by rakes, brooms, and an elderly washing line. They did, however, also provide edible apples and pears and pretty pink and white blossom, so we don't hold their transgressions against them.

The ladies' bicycles
Should you ever feel like having a famous five moment in this house, fear not. We have the materials for such a jolly jape. Two lovely old ladies' bicycles, with bells that go triiiing and baskets on the handlebars. You can stow your luncheon meat and ginger beer safely away and go trolling out through the streets of South Leam in style. We have been tempted. Very tempted. What larks, eh, what larks.

The assorted nails in the picture rails
We've put them to many uses. I have a fluffy white feathered fairylit halo hanging above my bed. Layla hangs a handbag from one of hers wedged into the wall at a convenient height. And Steve wins the prize for most innovative with a halfsize guitar dangling merrily from one in his room. We know how to make the most of what we've got in this house, that we do.

Goodbye and thank you house. You have done us proud. We'll not be forgetting you.


June 21, 2006

Bowing Out

Gina Morgan BSc (hons)* will shortly be loosing this page as she enters the real world and contemplates the possibilities therein. For those who so wish she can be found on Facebook, and emails of adoration or concerning bacteria sent to morgangina@hotmail.com.

*and yet to tire of telling anybody who'll listen (or, come to think of it, those who won't)