WIGAN. A Monday Afternoon Mug Of Tea On The Market.

On the market, the lunchtime queue gathers.

Right we’re into November and 2025 is now starting the job of get it’s things together for the end of the year. Suitcase, that missing sock, the tickets and the passport etc. I’m sorting out too, as well. Housekeeping through the photo files, discovering images and unfinished blog posts that have been gathering the digital dust on the hard drives.

There’ll be no particular thread to these, they’ll appear as they are found with the minimum of tidying up.

Here’s some thought’s composed, sort of, in Wigan Market while I was having a breather in the middle of a sorting out Monday.

The market, as well as a large chunk of the town centre is undergoing redevelopment so things are in a bit of a limbo state for now. The market is hanging in there as it awaits it’s new home and the new order to arrive. I value a proper market, they aren’t not just a place to buy things, it’s the fragile social side of things. Where you meet friends, have a chat, catch up on the world outside your front door. A place where you don’t have to sit looking at your own wallpaper. Where a cup of tea and a pie in the cafe breaks what can be the empty normality of everyday life. A chance to be reminded that you do exist, that you have an identity.