Category Archives: Weekly Round Up

What I talk about when I talk about walking

I love walking, I love walking pretty much anywhere, but I have my favourites and here are a few in no particular order.

1/ The River Mersey – my home turf.  It’s the best path for a Sunday.  It requires much more than just the movement of my legs, as I tend to daydream a lot I need to concentrate enough so I don’t go flying.  Its rocky path and slushy plants, with the overhead flying golf balls mean I have to be vigilant.  This morning on my walk I was accosted by two dogs and to end it I was greeted with 2 scally wagers being put in hand cuffs by the police.  You can guarantee Mr Heron will be sat on some rock or other and the sounds of the distant traffic create a serene setting for autumn.  I love the colour of all the leaves on the path, they are the amberest by far I have seen. 

2/ Wythenshawe Park – It’s huge and I often get lost, I still haven’t discovered where the running track is.  There is the hall, and the petting farm which stinks, it’s a really lovely park to go around and the oriental tree garden is sweet in its understated way.  Wythenshawe was called the garden city because it is so green and many people moved here because of air pollution.  The area may not have the best reputation, but the park is a beautiful place and a good cut through to get to Baguley Tesco

Here’s a little ditty 2 lovely women told me about the park:

Lord Simon gave away

Wythenshawe park

green walkabouts

walk through the green,

a hall to some Chinese plants all yellow

daffodils in spring

Cross a lake a little bridge

a beautiful rose garden

full of beautiful rose

The pigs and the smell

the horses and the chickens

They called it the Garden city

“Come to Wythenshawe for your health”

3/ Mirrlees golf course in Woodsmoor – though I’m not sure anyone uses it as a golf course anymore.  There have been rumours for years that it was going to be built over into a housing estate, but the path is still there.  It holds many memories for me, from riding my first bike, to stumbling back from the bamboo night club in Hazel Grove in the pitch black where I couldn’t even see my own hand if I held it in front of my face.  The more recent days memories are of riding my bike past the wonderful Woodsmoor allotments, past the fishing pond and watching the smoke rise from Stepping Hill’s chimney.  

4/ Happy Valley – this is a great walk as the name suggests, my only problem with it is if I walk from my mum and dad’s house I tend to feel I have done my walk before I get there.  I like a walk you can just walk to and this one tends to be a little far.  It again is a great site for heron spotting and stepping over the river on stepping stones, it tends to be a dog walkers sanctuary, it makes for a beautiful walk and there’s many ways you can take the path. You can go a route to Norbury farm where they have a great little farm shop for lemon curd, coffee, tea and wine.  We won’t be getting our Turkey from there this Christmas though, let’s put it this way I could have a Nintendo Wii for almost the same price.

5/ Middlewood way – a great fat cycle or a lovely stroll.  You’ve got the canal, you’ve got country pubs, ice cream huts, fishing corners, and diversions through Marple or High Lane.  This is my childhood path of all time, as it was the best taking my bike in the back of mum and dad’s car and getting saddled up ready to pedal our way to a Sunday lunch at the Miner’s arms.  Last time we did the trail was in summer mum, dad, Adam and me, got the train to Whaley Bridge, cycled up towards Marple stopped off at The Ring O Bells pub had some dinner and a pint then made our merry way back.  Because it is such a flat ride it was painless to cover 18 miles, even for me and Adam who never ride bikes anymore.  A beautiful place for anytime of year.

Now snuggled up at home its nice to think about being outdoors and not be.


Blogging about the day

Had an as usual ace Saturday.  Still suffering from the no work – can’t sleep syndrome, but I’m surviving.

Feeling like a pimp with Modeselektor Body language playing in the back, but hey I’ve figured it all applies as Adam’s got out his bass guitar to play along with.

This week, this day no more bizarre than normal.

Ooh this is awesome Body Language Pon de floor

Woke up – read Raymond Carver short.  A short good thing. A boy’s birthday, an unpicked up cake, an angry baker, a run of the mill accident.  The boy dies, the baker leaves ridiculous calls.  The parents Ann & Howard are somehow saved a smight from their anguish by the baker who gives them some hot rolls with melted butter.  Franklin a black kid dies.  Basically the essence of what being human means was illustrated to me before 9 am.

This week I have injured my lower chest, it is alas not broke, but damaged soft tissue, which has led to a mild chest infection, the bruising is minimal to my disappointment, as it hurts so fucking much. 2 x rays know the reality, I’m no wuss as I proved by me igniting a boiler I knew nothing about in the morning wearing a stripy Jasper Conran man’s dressing gown.

Fell again in love with the child I will have one day, she loves parsnips and has a stick insect called Rashmid.

Ps had an awesome take away from the Nepalase Nemaste Nepal, which is the sister of the brother of Kathmandu Didsbury West, and sister of the sister Kathmandu East Didsbury, awesome smell and I’m smell sensitive, and also the bread was awesome, which I can be sensitive too, but was a beauty, we’ve said so much for now, going to drink our Dark island beer curtousy of Ames.

An age and the deletion of Facebook

I’ve decided to cull my favourite links and this one, I am not to touch, except to get back into the realm of writing. I have become a dead blogger, which is a sight that makes me sad.  When I see people’s Myspace or WordPress accounts dried up and becoming a memory of what once was, I feel an eerie sense of an uncompleted task.  I’m sure this phase will happen again, but until then I return . . .

The inspiration, naf as hell. Meryl Streep and Amy Adams in Julie and Julia.

I went with my mum last night to the Savoy Heaton Moor, as I love those bungle seats and raffle ticket stubs.               We saw the above film due to a drunken phone call where I said I wanted to treat my mum to the cinema, treat being in the fact that I would take her to something I would prefer to bite wool rather than see.

Anyhow, I watched it and it was naf, but actually warmed my cockles to the fact that self made achievements and deadlines are not to be poo poohed too harshly.  So today I return, to write in whatever way I can and for my own self and I think sanity might be the right word, but not sure.

I have pulled the plug on Facebook, as I have decided I don’t like it at all and the fact that it was so complicated to delete my account made me even more intrigued to do it.  Once they’ve got you, they’ve got you good.  So goodbye nositus,  a word coined for my nosing in on people I don’t want to, which in turn makes me feel like a perverted little ferret.

I will get back to a slightly higher sense of what I like.

P.s. sorry if I spell things wrong please do tell, as I get carried away and write too quickly at times. That is assuming anybody reads this thing

Reviewing my week

Festivals – (1) Green Man even though it’s grown in size the festival still remains with the feeling of friendly intimacy, not that I ever went to it when it was half the size.  I don’t think I can see myself booking for something like Glastonbury, after festival experiences like this, and End of the Road in 2 weeks woop.

Films – Inglorious Basterds, ten years in the making, what?!  I can’t say I didn’t laugh because the whole concept seemed to be hodgepodged together combining a mock attempt at Cohen brothers style, with a poor man’s Ocean’s 11 and Hot Shots. It made me laugh because I couldn’t believe what I was seeing hailed as a masterpiece, I thought there were some scenes that worked really well, the opening one especially, but then Brad Pitt came along.

Things I’ve bought: a lame example of an iced latte from Coffee Tempo on the motorway, I never live and learn with this one.  2 shit coffees from the cinema ,I never learn with this one and the coffee costs more than the film, Beetroot crisps, Brew Dog beers, some razor blades which  got ID for.

Bizarre occurances: seeing Amy’s mannequin dressed up as a person with a pink wig, nearly using a jar of Tikka sauce that had been opened for three months and had turned slightly grey, Wilko wees, Waking up

Tonight is DJ Jay Krause hope he doesn’t puke on the turntables

Wednesday Round Up

 The Last Week of joys from Wednesday 22nd to today


Gigs : Marni Stern at Islington Mill, great night, ace venue and Tartufi were a real treat


Films: Moon, hmmn a little disappointing, but the score was it’s saving grace by Clint Mansell “Requiem for a Dream and Solaris”and also Sam Rockwell was no rehashed Zaphod Beeblebrox this time         


Books: Complete Maus by Art Spiegelman, an amazing graphic novel recounting Spiegelman’s father’s experience as a holocaust survivor, it won the Pulitzer prize in 1992. I had never heard of it up until a week ago and I rattled my way through it.

Also finished another Jewish life story The Colour of Water by James McBride. Now onto Malcolm X

Theatre: As We Forgive Them

Readings: Central Library, Geoff Ryman, entertaining reader

Purchases I can recall:  a new laptop, a demon lamp, a breast pump, a lion ziefer, at least 8 frappucinos, 10 americanos, 4 large Sharon fruits, coconut water, gurana can, Brew dog Dogma and Chaos Theory, a solero ice lolly, a chicken Shaslick from the Gurkha grill, the guardian on Saturday, 1 bottle of Belgium finest wheat beer and 1 Leffe Brun for £5

Sold items I remember:  Kickers, Ravel snake skin boots, Inside I’m Dancing DVD, Denim jacket, moto jeans

Drunk: more than I care to remember, and my bank won’t let me forget

Memorable things I’ve heard:This might be the book to change your life,” response “maybe I’m happy with my life as it is”           

Stupid things I’ve done:  Fallen off my bike in my Gran’s car park, accused Joe Sims of murder, read a sign saying tortoiseshell cat lost and told my mum to look out for a micro chipped tortoise, thought the moon was made of cheese reading NASA’s announcement made on April 1st in You Magazine of all things

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