Going to gigs as a disabled person is fraught with logistical considerations, but you don't expect to be actually hated.
I hate sport, I've got the lungs of a 90 year old, and I'm terrified of PE teachers, but I've joined a gym.
Along the top path until we reach the house with the odd dogs. I don't like the dogs. They must have very long hind legs to be able to lean over their tall wall. I'm not sure how they walk when their back legs are so long. It worries me. But soon we're up the… Continue reading Walking Home From Headingley
The Barnbow Lasses who died in service of WW1 should be remembered, and so should their exploitation and terrible waste of life.
You know those times when you have a really horrible task to do?I was feeling a lot like Oliver and felt that any minute some official would shout "MORE?". And then something happens that makes it OK?
Of course it wasn't really Whitsuntide, that being Pentacost - the seventh Sunday after Easter, (no I'm not an encyclopedia of Christian holidays, yes I do know how to use Google) but I still think of the Spring Bank holiday week as Whitsuntide. When I was a small child my family had a Whit Week… Continue reading Whitsuntide
What’s your coolest moment? You know, that moment when you could have flaked, you could have run, you could have done the obvious thing, but then you didn’t, you did the cool. It was summertime, in the St John’s Shopping Centre, shades on my head as per. Heading towards a shop, I found myself faced… Continue reading El Magnífico Uno
The building society queue was short, a quiet time of day, and by the time I reached the counter I was the only customer. Time for a bit of a chat with the teller then, passing the time of day, sharing a few pleasantries, like you do. The peace was broken, with a sudden bursting… Continue reading Paper and Pen