I can’t take many photographs at the moment because I still can’t walk very well after leg surgery. I can hobble around the house on crutches but I’m not confident enough to go outside on them. Except for trips to hospital, I haven’t been out since January 10. Fortunately, no-one else has been able to go out either due to a certain pandemic so I’m not the only one going stir crazy. Any photos I have managed to take have contained a common item; crutches. I have a feeling that every photo I take for the rest of my life will have a pair of crutches in it somewhere. Leaning on the wall, sticking out from under the sofa, poking through a doorway… these things will probably photobomb all photos taken by me from now on. Not sure exactly how I feel about them. They enable me to get around a bit so that’s good. But they’re hard work. They wear me out and they dig in me sometimes and hurt. They fall over every ten seconds and they often lean just out of reach, taunting me. They’re hard and spindly and they’re not quite the right height. I think they might be smirking at me. But I need them so that’s that. I don’t think they need me. Bastards.