AndyBlog

My Graveyard

This is my graveyard

Now... I should point out that everything you have already read in this posting is actually, technically, a lie.

...apart from the truth that the place photographed is, indeed, a graveyard.

So - why all this excitement about the graveyard?

It's a very reasonable question, and I don't resent it at all. This is, in fact, the graveyard opposite to the back of my house. There is a sense, and a truthful one, that it is the graveyard which overlooks my house.

As such, it is, very much a part of my life. I regularly photograph it (as above), I have written a poem about it and I see it, or part of it, every time I arrive at or depart from, my house.

Moreover, visitors who walk our dog (Holly) often perambulate through it. I have commented on the fog and also the strange goings on in this graveyard in this Blog before, and it is fair to say, that the graveyard occupies a small, but definitely discernible place in my life.

So why tell you all of this?

The simple fact is that I have only once been in the graveyard myself. On that single occasion, I tripped on a gravestone and fell very painfully - causing significant damage to my evertroublesome bad leg.

I have never returned.

PS I apologise to all who feel I have just wasted their time. I wish to point out that the TV on tonight is mostly rubbish, so please try not to worry.

Bits & Bobs

It was a great time last night on the radio - with more than double the listeners from last week. If that happens again, I'll have to change the way we broadcast, in order to support more listeners. It's all pretty pleasing and enjoyable.

It's been a funny week, because Fiona is away in Guatemala, with her friend, Julia. Whilst I'm certain she's having a whale of a time, the vibe back here at the ranch is rather different. It's amazing to think that someone who is, herself, so quiet, could engender such quietness in this house, simply by not being here.

Nevertheless, before you see this as a “look at me I have no-one to wash my pants” posting, I should mention that I have had lots of visitors, each of whom have been excellent company and interesting conversation.

It's still quiet, though.

Really quiet.

Well then...

It occurred to me, whilst leafing through a well-thumbed copy of People's Friend in a dentist's waiting room some time ago, that it would be almost impossible not to..............erm....well - what I mean is....It's easy, isn't it, to gloss over the blemishes in a young......erm........

I suppose one would have to say, that there are three main things which define the way a person looks, there is the.............erm.......umm...........

This is not working.

OK, it's a funny re-touched picture of a baby that made me laugh.

Friends

Friends who food together, fart together.

England - A Street

What was it like to live now?

Having been rather under the weather recently, this picture was taken on my first trip out, after two weeks indoors.

It is, in every sense, an unremarkable picture. Certainly to you. To me however, it suddenly became something more. This is a picture of my world - a picture of an early 21st century northern English middle-class housing estate.

The was how we live now - in small houses, often joined together in pairs, served by “roads”, which consisted of a metalled surface upon which “cars” travel. Cars were the primary form of personal conveyance right now.

Here we are, living in our world and boldly assuming, as every other generation has, that this is how it is - and how it will continue to be.

We are quite comfortable in looking back to how people lived in the 1920s, for example - but we seem to forget that now is the history of tomorrow.

Try to imagine yourself miraculously transported back to the past that is now. What would you do?  What would you want to go and see? What should we see before it is gone?

Maybe, in this, lies the key of enjoying and treasuring our existence right now, instead of letting time slip by, unnoticed.

Monju Tandoori

It occurs to me that I have never mentioned this fine establishment in my blog before - a sad fact to have to admit.

It is the case that we live near to one of the finest Indian Restaurants in the world. They've won numerous awards and are highly praised in the Good Curry Guide.

All of this notwithstanding, they remain all but undiscovered, at the foot of Southmoor, near Stanley. My guess is that many people fail to realise the sheer quality of the food that they order for home delivery. “Korma and Chips” seems to be the favourite. Were they to be brave and risk a Chom-Chom Chicken or even a simple Tandoori Chicken Tikka Masala, they may start to see why the food here is so well thought of.

The Naan bread is light, fluffy and crispy on the outside. The curries are rarely fatty, always with good meat. I would not suggest you try any of the lamb dishes, but everything else is out of this world.

If we lived a good deal further away, we would eagerly return to the tiny 12-seater restaurant and enjoy this most sublime Indian food.

I reckon it's one of the best-kept secrets in the North-East.

Please ignore this...

This is just a link to one of my client sites, in the hope of getting the web-robots to take some notice.

http://www.northernwriters.co.uk

AD-LIB RADIO

It's been a dream for a long time, and now it is reality - all be it on a very small scale.

So, from Wednesday at 10.30pm, I'll be a bona-fide Dj once more - this time to a tiny audience on the internet, rather than to a room full of roller-skaters at the YMCA in Huddersfield.

Maybe you'd like to join me for an eclectic choice in music and my own particular brand of inane rambling. You'd be very welcome.

The only show planned initially is on a Wednesday night at 10.30pm - LATE. Every week.

Worth looking forward to?  I'll let you decide.

To connect with the stream, you'll need Winamp for Windows or iTunes.

AD-LIB RADIO has its own web site - http://www.adlib.co.uk

...and, of course, its own Blog - http://adlib.blogs.com/radio

Always with the Blog, eh?  :)

Kids

I wish I could cope with kids.

I was in Greggs, buying gingerbread men earlier today, and there they were - being excruciating.

They are kinda with one or more of the adults in the shop - it's hard to tell which, but there is usually an empty push-chair somewhere in the queue, accounting for a toddler on the move.

They weave their way around the store, without looking where they are going, knocking into people and drawing on them with their crayons - then screaming at high pitch and very loudly for no reason whatsoever. Then they push me out of my waiting position and occupy the space in front of the counter as if they are the ones who are going to be served.

Other adults look round and smile benevolently, as if this is a lovely thing - as if they have a perfect right to start colouring-in the cake display.

One of them decides to use my leg as a rest for his colouring book. They have their own knee-high world, which has no reference to mine.

They don't care that the tiny shop is jam packed, it's all just fun for them.

They, too are getting gingerbread men.

I just want them to go.

Permanently.

Sorry.

Gingerbread Man

I never really had Gingerbread men as a child. We just didn't do that sort of thing in my family.

Until last week, I had had maybe two of them in my entire life. Then, one evening, all of a sudden, I fancied one.

“Oh!  A Gingerbread man!”, I thought.

“Oh!  A Gingerbread man!”, I exclaimed.

“A Gingerbread man?”, enquired Fiona.

“Yes!  A Gingerbread man!”, I rejoined.

And so it was that the very next day, Fiona returned from work, armed with not one, but two gingerbread men, from Peters, the bakers.

I have to admit, I was disappointed. It was pale, and with just two Smarties® down the front, as if coat buttons. The taste was a little gingery, but it was pretty bland.

The one you see pictured here is from Greggs, the bakers. It has a better colour, and is a little bit cakey to eat - somewhere between a cake and a biscuit. Very pleasant indeed, and nicely gingery. The Smarties are a little bit melted, and are the eyes instead of coat buttons, but there are, at least, two of them.

It seems that there is a lot of variety to be found in gingerbread men. Don't worry, there will be no GingerbreadBlog.

So now my craving for the gingerbread is fully catered for, I may proceed with the rest of my life.

Now, isn't that a nice little story?