reading the blog of someone (like me) who inconsistently blogs, the conversation just picks up like we'd never stopped.....<ahem>.
This blog comes live from the lounge at East Cheshire Hospice where I am booked in for a blood transfusion. My haemoglobin is a bit low, and this ought to perk me up a touch.
--
So I had a Saturday afternoon free the other weekend and decided I'd try and get a wee bit of exercise not only of me legs, but of me shutter finger.
I decided to hit Styal Mill, which is fairly close by, and should offer an off photo opp.
I've walked out of the house before forgetting a memory card, or a lens, or a battery, but I arrived at Styal only to realise I left my whole camera behind. I had a spare lens in my bag, but no camera. What a dunce.
--
On Sunday nights BBC R5Live Extra broadcast an NFL game live from the States, and I put it on as I go to sleep. I used to be a regular listener to the radio as I went to sleep but have simply dropped out of the habit. However, there are occasions when a bit of live sport is nice. Not all live sport, mind.
I find boxing far too loud and jumpy. Cricket is not bad, but by far the best for sending me off is golf. The hushed tones of the commentators wary of distracting the players. Fab.
Wednesday 19 October 2016
Friday 30 September 2016
Back in the saddle again
No, not on my bike. Nor have I taken up equestrianism. Not a literal saddle, but today I went with Gel and Jen for a day in Buxton, and I not only took my camera, but took a few pics as well. Not very good ones, I grant you, but for the first time in yonks I felt good enough to scamper around and take a few. It felt very good to have my camera on my shoulder again, and to be looking for photo opps.
Hopefully as I get a bit stronger and my eye gets over the ring rustyness that a few months off must cause, then hopefully the quality might improve too.
Here are a couple from May which must have predated all that pain malarky.
As you can see, none of these are exactly going to set the world alight, but they are quite precious to me as I hope it signals the start of an avalanche of (slightly better) tat for me to foist on you.
Hopefully as I get a bit stronger and my eye gets over the ring rustyness that a few months off must cause, then hopefully the quality might improve too.
Trees
Sofa
Stairwell
Here are a couple from May which must have predated all that pain malarky.
Peek-a-boo
Stockport Rothko
As you can see, none of these are exactly going to set the world alight, but they are quite precious to me as I hope it signals the start of an avalanche of (slightly better) tat for me to foist on you.
Wednesday 7 September 2016
Hot, hot, hot
The other day we visited East Cheshire Hospice. Or, to be more precise, the Sunflower Centre, which is attached to the hospice. This was to tap into resources that are available to us like physiotherapy and complimentary therapy.
I've been given some gentle exercises to do to strengthen my back and arse muscles, and an exercise diary so keep track of what I do. All positive stuff.
I looking forward to going back in a couple of weeks for some Reiki or Reflexology.
--
What's with the weather? I'm sitting here roasting, after a few days where it's been relatively cool. Just a normal autumn I guess. Saw this little fella as I walked up to get my paper today, perhaps another indicator that autumn is on the way.
I've been given some gentle exercises to do to strengthen my back and arse muscles, and an exercise diary so keep track of what I do. All positive stuff.
I looking forward to going back in a couple of weeks for some Reiki or Reflexology.
--
What's with the weather? I'm sitting here roasting, after a few days where it's been relatively cool. Just a normal autumn I guess. Saw this little fella as I walked up to get my paper today, perhaps another indicator that autumn is on the way.
Monday 5 September 2016
Back again - lots of news
When I started this blog, it was to let people know how I was faring during my chemo during last winter. At the time I tolerated the chemo pretty well and so was still able to get out and about and do stuff, and then report back.
As you probably know the last few months the blogs have tailed off and that's been primarily due to the constant pain I've been having. It's had two effects, one to limit what I can do (and so report on), and secondly has made me feel pretty miserable and disinclined to sit and write the blog.
Four weeks ago last Friday, I had a short shot of radiotherapy on the top end of my spine between my shoulder blades as a scan revealed that some cancer was impinging on the nerves coming out of my spine and thus causing all the pain.
Since then the transformation has been nothing short of miraculous. I'm sitting here having reflected on how my movement has improved beyond my wildest dreams, and how the pain has nearly all gone. I still have a few twinges here and there - my left shoulder has been giving me a bit of gyp - but I can even sense that these may be on the way out.
Physically there has been a change, but also this release from the pain has lifted my spirits. There have been a few other events that have done this too......
----
Wildlife corner
"Swift, I've just kicked a hedgehog"
Not a phrase I can say I've heard ever before. Gel was putting the bins out and in doing so her foot bumped against something. Now I've reported in the past that we've had hedgehogs in the back garden, but it's never occurred to me that they might scuttle around the front too. But there it was, rolled in a ball protecting itself from the booting it felt was coming next. The cats were super excited, but very confused. Gel took the little fella round the back and put him in the long grass away from feline eyes. We checked the following day and he'd safely made it away.
Not long after that we were driving up the avenue in the middle of the day and a similar (the same?) hedgehog was parked in the middle of the road. Sean, Gel's brother leaped to its rescue and put it back in the grass from whence it had come.
Caitlin and Andy have been finishing off bits and bobs around the house, including painting the cellar to smarten it up. Most exciting news when they came across this handsome fella...
We reckon it's a toad, but if anyone with greater expertise can put us right...
The final part of wildlife corner is a report from Pheebs that she looked out of her window one night to see a badger scuttling around on the avenue.
We could run our own Springwatch at this rate, having also had fox, heron and sparrowhawk in the garden in recent times.
-----
Secret squirrel
About ten days ago, I was contacted by Andy asking to keep Sept 3rd free but to keep the fact I was keeping it free a secret. So I did. He told me where the 'secret event' was to take place, and what special requirements there were (none). I kept it all hush-hush until the Friday night when I had to explain to Gel that we had an early start the following morning and she, and I, needed to be ready.
I couldn't tell her what the event was, nor who was attending (because I didn't know), but I asked her not to mention it to anyone else. She used her best interrogation techniques to extract information about what was going on, but I resisted, and so it was that we found ourselves sitting at a table in Tilly's in Castleton on Saturday morning waiting for something to happen.
Then Caitlin and Andy appeared, and Andy explained that he had woken Caitlin earlier that morning on the pretext of watching dawn rise on the top of Mam Tor. He had explained that we wanted to do the same. They took a picnic blanket and a flask of coffee. When the sunrise started, Andy seized the moment and asked Caitlin to marry him, ring at the ready. So when they arrived at Tilly's neither Caitlin or Gel knew who would be there. The start of a weekend of (happy) tears.
----
18th
This weekend (Sunday) also saw Pheebs turn 18. We bought her a ticket to the Leeds Festival for her main present, but wanted to give her something personal to keep, and so did a little scrapbook of photos from "Early Days" through to now. Cue more tears.
Friday 12 August 2016
Latest table
I went for my morning constitutional, picked up a paper and was reading it while waiting for visit from the MacMillan nurse I've had assigned to me, when I became aware of an odd sound.
At first I was convinced it was a cat snoring. So I ignored it, but it was persistent and a little bit too loud for that, so went to investigate, which is why I can show the latest table:
Cat Mouses Birds
Poussey 0 1
Boo 2 0
Boo, the little bugger had caught a mouse (or found one that had died peacefully of natural causes after a long and fruitful life) and wouldn't let it go, hence the low growling.
He then spent a few minutes tossing it about while I forlornly tried to separate the the hunter from its prey.
Realising he wasn't going to give this one up as easily as he had the first, I shooed him out of the house and left him to it in the garden.
This is the mouth he's going to kiss me with later.........
At first I was convinced it was a cat snoring. So I ignored it, but it was persistent and a little bit too loud for that, so went to investigate, which is why I can show the latest table:
Cat Mouses Birds
Poussey 0 1
Boo 2 0
Boo, the little bugger had caught a mouse (or found one that had died peacefully of natural causes after a long and fruitful life) and wouldn't let it go, hence the low growling.
He then spent a few minutes tossing it about while I forlornly tried to separate the the hunter from its prey.
Realising he wasn't going to give this one up as easily as he had the first, I shooed him out of the house and left him to it in the garden.
This is the mouth he's going to kiss me with later.........
Wednesday 10 August 2016
OH
A nice visit from Occupational Health today to see if there were any aids they could provide to help me around the house.
At the time we were originally referred, it's fair to say I was in a bit of a state. All due to this pain around my ribs. While I'm not completely pain free, I think it's fair to say that there has been and improvement.
So we got to meet Freya today and discussed a number of possibilities for helping me around the house, from steps to get into the shower, to raising chair legs to make them a better height.
I think we've opted for a device that will raise me up in bed - or simply allow me to sleep at an angle - which is a bit more sophisticated that than the pile of pillows and duvet covers I'm currently using, a bottle to wee into if I find it hard to get out of bed (a bit of an emergency device this one as getting up isn't causing me too much bother just now), and a non-slip mat for the shower.
--
All this thought about kit is starting to feel a little redundant as each day my rib pain gets better and better. It has a long way to go mind, to fully go, but there's a definite improvement.
This means I can start to think about doing things. No hang-gliding or ultra marathons just yet, but I am starting to feel I can plan to do things a little more. Like going to see the new Star Trek film, for example.
--
We are enjoying the Olympics - watched a great doc about Danny Boyle's opening ceremony for 2012 too - but some of these "first week sports" are a hard watch. We enjoyed the synchro diving, but found the canoeing and horse stuff, and skeet shooting, a touch dull.
But, of course, the return of the footie after such a long break is very welcome.
Thanks to all for your kind words and messages. They've been a real tonic over the last few months where we've been suffering.
At the time we were originally referred, it's fair to say I was in a bit of a state. All due to this pain around my ribs. While I'm not completely pain free, I think it's fair to say that there has been and improvement.
So we got to meet Freya today and discussed a number of possibilities for helping me around the house, from steps to get into the shower, to raising chair legs to make them a better height.
I think we've opted for a device that will raise me up in bed - or simply allow me to sleep at an angle - which is a bit more sophisticated that than the pile of pillows and duvet covers I'm currently using, a bottle to wee into if I find it hard to get out of bed (a bit of an emergency device this one as getting up isn't causing me too much bother just now), and a non-slip mat for the shower.
--
All this thought about kit is starting to feel a little redundant as each day my rib pain gets better and better. It has a long way to go mind, to fully go, but there's a definite improvement.
This means I can start to think about doing things. No hang-gliding or ultra marathons just yet, but I am starting to feel I can plan to do things a little more. Like going to see the new Star Trek film, for example.
--
We are enjoying the Olympics - watched a great doc about Danny Boyle's opening ceremony for 2012 too - but some of these "first week sports" are a hard watch. We enjoyed the synchro diving, but found the canoeing and horse stuff, and skeet shooting, a touch dull.
But, of course, the return of the footie after such a long break is very welcome.
Thanks to all for your kind words and messages. They've been a real tonic over the last few months where we've been suffering.
Sunday 7 August 2016
Long time
So it's been a while, dear reader. How to catch up nearly a month without boring either you or I.
Well, after we returned from our lovely stay in the south of France, I suffered with a very strong pain in the hip/pelvis area. So strong I could barely walk more than a few metres. This came on exactly a week before we were due to fly out to Italy to stay with my dad and his partner Jenny in Italy.
I'd also been feeling increasingly tired. Fatigued. Knackered.
After trying a few home remedies, I eventually got on to the Christie hotline to ask about pain relief and they, quite sensibly, said that we should find out what was wrong before simply throwing more drugs at the problem and asked to me to go to my nearest A&E for an X-Ray to find out what's was going on.
In A&E at Wythenshawe we encountered the first of many excellent medical staff, when the triage nurse, while checking me in for an x-ray suggested I looked "a funny colour" and so also ordered some blood tests.
These tests showed I was anaemic, that my kidneys weren't doing doing as well as they could, and that I had too much calcium in my blood, so I was admitted and a selection of treatment was given. All of which took time, and all of which had to to checked to see if they were working, leaving my discharge perilously close to the holiday we were looking forward to.
As soon as I had the blood transfusion, I started to perk up no end. I also moved off Ibuprofen and onto Tramadol for the pain and that helped a load too.
I was let out on the Thursday evening.
I can't speak highly enough of the staff who looked after me during my stay. What a brilliant thing the NHS is.
-----
I contacted Lufthansa and suggested I needed wheelchair assistance in my journey (via Munich) and I have to say they were brilliant. Wheelchairs, golf buggies, minivan transfer to the plane all took stress and effort for us all and made the journey so much easier.
My dad picked us up from Ancona airport and we headed off into the Italian hills for a week of rest relaxation and wonderful food. Le Marche is the province next to San Marino, Abruzzo and Tuscany on the Adriatic Coast. I was weak and in pain so spent much of the time reading by the pool, but it was a really nice break.
During our stay, Gel and discussed the fact that I needed to bring forward my next appointment at the Christie because I was still having so much pain, and also I didn't want to end up back in Wythenshawe having more treatment if that could be avoided.
Ancona is quite a small airport and caters for slightly smaller aircraft than many others.
--
The week after we got back Phil came over for a cup of coffee and gave me a present that my ex-colleagues at work had bought for me after a collection. A fantastic limited edition photo book by Joel Meyerowitz. I had a good cry over that.
--
That now brings us to this week which has shot by. Monday we had a visit from a physiotherapist from our local GP surgery who game me some great tips about moving about and exercise.
Tuesday we visited the Christie and met with my consultant who was fairly calm about my blood levels, but wanted to get to the bottom of the pain I was having to ordered an MRI, which I had the following day thanks to a cancellation.
Thursday I had a phone call inviting me back for treatment on the Friday. Whoosh! They had detected some cancer on my spine which was impinging on my nerves and probably causing me this pain in my ribs, and wanted to give it a blast of radiation to see it off.
So we went back on Friday, had a good long chat with one of my consultants colleagues who explained the procedure and then the process started, first with another scan in this:
This process also involved me being drawn on. On my chest and arms.
They then went off and spent a couple of hours planning the treatment which took about 15 minutes and delivered by this:
I felt a brief tingling on the skin on my back, I've had a slight discomfort in my throat (both of which I was warned of) and for one night the pain increased a little, which I was also warned of.
Between the scan and the treatment we wandered over to the Maggie's centre for a little peace and quiet.
A lovely peaceful place where you can sit and relax, get a cup of tea or coffee, and maybe some advice outside of the hospital environment, but still part of Christie's.
--
So where am I now?
Well, I'm a lot perkier than before my stay in Wythenshawe, and my pain seems to be a little better than before my radiotherapy - they did say it might take a few weeks for me to feel the full benefit - so all in all I'm feeling very positive.
I've had lots and lots of professional and personal support from friends and family, and from the healthcare staff I've encountered, but the one who's done the most and without whom I'd be lost is Gel. She's there for me every minute of every day.
I am a lucky man.
Well, after we returned from our lovely stay in the south of France, I suffered with a very strong pain in the hip/pelvis area. So strong I could barely walk more than a few metres. This came on exactly a week before we were due to fly out to Italy to stay with my dad and his partner Jenny in Italy.
I'd also been feeling increasingly tired. Fatigued. Knackered.
After trying a few home remedies, I eventually got on to the Christie hotline to ask about pain relief and they, quite sensibly, said that we should find out what was wrong before simply throwing more drugs at the problem and asked to me to go to my nearest A&E for an X-Ray to find out what's was going on.
In A&E at Wythenshawe we encountered the first of many excellent medical staff, when the triage nurse, while checking me in for an x-ray suggested I looked "a funny colour" and so also ordered some blood tests.
These tests showed I was anaemic, that my kidneys weren't doing doing as well as they could, and that I had too much calcium in my blood, so I was admitted and a selection of treatment was given. All of which took time, and all of which had to to checked to see if they were working, leaving my discharge perilously close to the holiday we were looking forward to.
As soon as I had the blood transfusion, I started to perk up no end. I also moved off Ibuprofen and onto Tramadol for the pain and that helped a load too.
I was let out on the Thursday evening.
I can't speak highly enough of the staff who looked after me during my stay. What a brilliant thing the NHS is.
-----
I contacted Lufthansa and suggested I needed wheelchair assistance in my journey (via Munich) and I have to say they were brilliant. Wheelchairs, golf buggies, minivan transfer to the plane all took stress and effort for us all and made the journey so much easier.
My dad picked us up from Ancona airport and we headed off into the Italian hills for a week of rest relaxation and wonderful food. Le Marche is the province next to San Marino, Abruzzo and Tuscany on the Adriatic Coast. I was weak and in pain so spent much of the time reading by the pool, but it was a really nice break.
During our stay, Gel and discussed the fact that I needed to bring forward my next appointment at the Christie because I was still having so much pain, and also I didn't want to end up back in Wythenshawe having more treatment if that could be avoided.
Ancona is quite a small airport and caters for slightly smaller aircraft than many others.
--
The week after we got back Phil came over for a cup of coffee and gave me a present that my ex-colleagues at work had bought for me after a collection. A fantastic limited edition photo book by Joel Meyerowitz. I had a good cry over that.
--
That now brings us to this week which has shot by. Monday we had a visit from a physiotherapist from our local GP surgery who game me some great tips about moving about and exercise.
Tuesday we visited the Christie and met with my consultant who was fairly calm about my blood levels, but wanted to get to the bottom of the pain I was having to ordered an MRI, which I had the following day thanks to a cancellation.
Thursday I had a phone call inviting me back for treatment on the Friday. Whoosh! They had detected some cancer on my spine which was impinging on my nerves and probably causing me this pain in my ribs, and wanted to give it a blast of radiation to see it off.
So we went back on Friday, had a good long chat with one of my consultants colleagues who explained the procedure and then the process started, first with another scan in this:
This process also involved me being drawn on. On my chest and arms.
They then went off and spent a couple of hours planning the treatment which took about 15 minutes and delivered by this:
I felt a brief tingling on the skin on my back, I've had a slight discomfort in my throat (both of which I was warned of) and for one night the pain increased a little, which I was also warned of.
Between the scan and the treatment we wandered over to the Maggie's centre for a little peace and quiet.
A lovely peaceful place where you can sit and relax, get a cup of tea or coffee, and maybe some advice outside of the hospital environment, but still part of Christie's.
--
So where am I now?
Well, I'm a lot perkier than before my stay in Wythenshawe, and my pain seems to be a little better than before my radiotherapy - they did say it might take a few weeks for me to feel the full benefit - so all in all I'm feeling very positive.
I've had lots and lots of professional and personal support from friends and family, and from the healthcare staff I've encountered, but the one who's done the most and without whom I'd be lost is Gel. She's there for me every minute of every day.
I am a lucky man.
Thursday 7 July 2016
Summer
Gel's brother (the one that lives in Brussels) has four kids, and his partner has three. All grown up. Trying to pin them all down to specific dates for a holiday is a bit difficult so they picked a couple of weeks, booked somewhere (in Provence), and declared open house. Andrew and Annike were very gracious to invite us to come down too.
Seemed like a good opportunity to get some sun and rest, and we were very happy to accept their invitation.
We arrived at Manchester Airport for our first flight to Schipol, dropped our baggage in, and then got a text saying our flight was cancelled.... :0(
This was a pain as we were only going for four nights.
After an hour or so at the KLM/Air France desk, and on the phone to Andrew, we had rearranged flights the following morning (VERY early) and, quite nicely, an extra day before returning.
We got up at three the following morning and got our flight and then realised we'd have about 25 minutes to get across Charles de Gaulle (CDG) to the boarding for our connecting flight to Marseille (MRS). This included another security check and passport check since UK is not part of the Shengen group.
We legged it and arrived in time to board, but when we arrived at MRS I got a text telling me that our bags hadn't been as nippy as us. Andrew met us at the airport, and was going there later so we asked if he could pick them up then? Of course not. That's not what the process was.....
Over the next 2-3 days we, or rather Annike, had a number of conversations with Air France telling them what a bunch of bums they were until our luggage arrived three days after we did. We all resolved to have three wardrobe changes for the rest of our stay.
Anyway, other than the cancelled flights, the unearthly start, and the lost luggage we had a great time. Mostly because we were looked after royally.
We had a couple of quick trips out. To Contignac:
To Carces market where my camera was wrestled from my hand by a burly Frenchman to take our photo:
Literally across the road from the house, was a smallholder selling fruit and veg, so we had fresh food every day. The peppers in the middle of the pic had been picked from the plant a matter of seconds before I took the photo.
We also had a wiffwaff tourny, and here's an action shot of the Gel v Thibaud game, with Andrew refereeing.
All in all we had a great time, with love and thanks to Andrew and Annike and all the 'kids' for looking after us so well.
----
Here's a question from the interweb I thought was very interesting:
What's the first major news story you can remember living through as a child?
Seemed like a good opportunity to get some sun and rest, and we were very happy to accept their invitation.
We arrived at Manchester Airport for our first flight to Schipol, dropped our baggage in, and then got a text saying our flight was cancelled.... :0(
This was a pain as we were only going for four nights.
After an hour or so at the KLM/Air France desk, and on the phone to Andrew, we had rearranged flights the following morning (VERY early) and, quite nicely, an extra day before returning.
We got up at three the following morning and got our flight and then realised we'd have about 25 minutes to get across Charles de Gaulle (CDG) to the boarding for our connecting flight to Marseille (MRS). This included another security check and passport check since UK is not part of the Shengen group.
We legged it and arrived in time to board, but when we arrived at MRS I got a text telling me that our bags hadn't been as nippy as us. Andrew met us at the airport, and was going there later so we asked if he could pick them up then? Of course not. That's not what the process was.....
Over the next 2-3 days we, or rather Annike, had a number of conversations with Air France telling them what a bunch of bums they were until our luggage arrived three days after we did. We all resolved to have three wardrobe changes for the rest of our stay.
Anyway, other than the cancelled flights, the unearthly start, and the lost luggage we had a great time. Mostly because we were looked after royally.
Provence lunch.
We had a couple of quick trips out. To Contignac:
Sleepy cat
Town Square
Pheebs and Lizzie
To Carces market where my camera was wrestled from my hand by a burly Frenchman to take our photo:
Literally across the road from the house, was a smallholder selling fruit and veg, so we had fresh food every day. The peppers in the middle of the pic had been picked from the plant a matter of seconds before I took the photo.
We also had a wiffwaff tourny, and here's an action shot of the Gel v Thibaud game, with Andrew refereeing.
All in all we had a great time, with love and thanks to Andrew and Annike and all the 'kids' for looking after us so well.
----
Here's a question from the interweb I thought was very interesting:
What's the first major news story you can remember living through as a child?
Wednesday 22 June 2016
It's all about pain, baybee...!
So yesterday's visit to the hospital wasn't was gloomy as we'd expected. Sure the blood indicators aren't going in the direction we'd hoped, but that could be because the new drug is taking time to take effect. So another two months just to see what's occurring.
All this pain I'm getting is from the cancer that is in the bone, and I need to manage it. So I am now on a regime of 8 paracetamol a day and 3 uber-sized ibuprofen. Today is the first day of the new regime, and I have to admit there is an improvement. I'd say a good reduction in pain, with some of it becoming just discomfort, which I'll take for now thank you.
This may go down further as the drug can cause the cancer in the bone to "flare" a little before settling down. Fingers crossed eh?
----
Today, Pheebs, Gel and I visited MMU School of Art for their Open Day. Very impressive.
I think we've all come back enthused about the University in general, and the Foundation course in particular. All three of fancy going on it.....but I suspect that might cramp Pheeb's style a bit.
The tutor-student interaction seemed great.
We then went to the MMU Art Exhibition which was stunning. It finishes today, so a bit pointless me recommending you visit, but perhaps you could bookmark it for next year. There really was some stunning work on display.
All this pain I'm getting is from the cancer that is in the bone, and I need to manage it. So I am now on a regime of 8 paracetamol a day and 3 uber-sized ibuprofen. Today is the first day of the new regime, and I have to admit there is an improvement. I'd say a good reduction in pain, with some of it becoming just discomfort, which I'll take for now thank you.
This may go down further as the drug can cause the cancer in the bone to "flare" a little before settling down. Fingers crossed eh?
----
Stairwell. Benzie Building, MMU.
Today, Pheebs, Gel and I visited MMU School of Art for their Open Day. Very impressive.
I think we've all come back enthused about the University in general, and the Foundation course in particular. All three of fancy going on it.....but I suspect that might cramp Pheeb's style a bit.
The tutor-student interaction seemed great.
We then went to the MMU Art Exhibition which was stunning. It finishes today, so a bit pointless me recommending you visit, but perhaps you could bookmark it for next year. There really was some stunning work on display.
Sunday 19 June 2016
How do you feel today?
As it happens I feel almost human today. Yesterday was a bit of a struggle.
There are so many things that go into answering that question. What level of pain do I have, because the reality is over the last few weeks, there hasn't really been a day where I haven't been experiencing some degree of pain. From discomfort, up to bloody horrible. I wont use the the word unbearable because I'm pretty sure there is some sort of pain which is quite a way higher that what I've had. I suppose in some ways I'm grateful for that.
Did I sleep well, or am I, at the start of the day already tired.
Am I constipated because to get some decent sleep I popped a couple of Cocodamol, and one of the side effects is.....bunging you up. Have I got a swirly head (also a side effect of the Cocodamol)?
Do you feel hungry? Well, yes but I don't really want to eat. There is some combination of the drugs I'm using that makes me have this swirly tummy thing which on the one hand tells me I should eat, but on the other makes me feel I don't really want to.
I recent nights I do feel I've made some progress in reducing the hot flushes at night by sleeping under an empty duvet cover instead of a duvet (too hot) or under nothing (too cold), so that's good.
I seem to have come up with a strategy around pain control using paracetamol where possible, but taking them all day. Pre-empting the pain rather than waiting until it is upon me.
Bugger
--
Yesterday Gel and I went to Macc to the opening day of the Barnaby Festival, which I have to admit I'd never heard of before. There was bunting, there were shop window displays, there was street art. We also went to see "Owen Jones in conversation with Nick Robinson". Nick Robinson is a Macc lad, and Owen spent much of his formative years in Stockport. It was a really interesting 90 minutes. Robinson talked about being chairman of Macc Young Conservatives, Jones talked about being a socialist activist still meant to he was to the political right of his parents.
It was fun and engaging. It was also a little frightening.
The campaigning around the EU referendum has been vicious, it has use scare tactics - particularly about immigrants - and and twisted and abused the facts. The atmosphere seems to have inspired the terrible killing of MP Jo Cox, and isn't simply going to disappear once the polls close on Thursday.
Luckily we have tickets to an all together less sobering event on Thursday to see the Barnsley Bard, Ian McMillan who seems to have an all round good rep.
There are so many things that go into answering that question. What level of pain do I have, because the reality is over the last few weeks, there hasn't really been a day where I haven't been experiencing some degree of pain. From discomfort, up to bloody horrible. I wont use the the word unbearable because I'm pretty sure there is some sort of pain which is quite a way higher that what I've had. I suppose in some ways I'm grateful for that.
Did I sleep well, or am I, at the start of the day already tired.
Am I constipated because to get some decent sleep I popped a couple of Cocodamol, and one of the side effects is.....bunging you up. Have I got a swirly head (also a side effect of the Cocodamol)?
Do you feel hungry? Well, yes but I don't really want to eat. There is some combination of the drugs I'm using that makes me have this swirly tummy thing which on the one hand tells me I should eat, but on the other makes me feel I don't really want to.
I recent nights I do feel I've made some progress in reducing the hot flushes at night by sleeping under an empty duvet cover instead of a duvet (too hot) or under nothing (too cold), so that's good.
I seem to have come up with a strategy around pain control using paracetamol where possible, but taking them all day. Pre-empting the pain rather than waiting until it is upon me.
Bugger
--
Yesterday Gel and I went to Macc to the opening day of the Barnaby Festival, which I have to admit I'd never heard of before. There was bunting, there were shop window displays, there was street art. We also went to see "Owen Jones in conversation with Nick Robinson". Nick Robinson is a Macc lad, and Owen spent much of his formative years in Stockport. It was a really interesting 90 minutes. Robinson talked about being chairman of Macc Young Conservatives, Jones talked about being a socialist activist still meant to he was to the political right of his parents.
It was fun and engaging. It was also a little frightening.
The campaigning around the EU referendum has been vicious, it has use scare tactics - particularly about immigrants - and and twisted and abused the facts. The atmosphere seems to have inspired the terrible killing of MP Jo Cox, and isn't simply going to disappear once the polls close on Thursday.
Luckily we have tickets to an all together less sobering event on Thursday to see the Barnsley Bard, Ian McMillan who seems to have an all round good rep.
Saturday 11 June 2016
Times
So, I am now a retired ex-employee of the Lloyds Banking Group. I have been retired on grounds of ill-health. This is something I am very grateful to them for. The thought of not having to worry about work is a real benefit. I have definitely slowed down, both physically and mentally.
I'm hoping that as my body gets used to the drugs I'm on those will lift a little. Certainly I seem to be seeing the back pain problems reducing, with the hope that they'll go completely.
--
As Kurt Wallander said in the last episode on Sunday, parenting is a long process of letting go.
Two things happened this week that made Gel and I reminisce.
First it was Caitlin's 26th birthday. Where did that all go? I first clapped eyes on her as a visitor to Withington Hosptital when she was only a day or two old. There she was, the little bundle in Gel's arms, and just look at her now.
The second event was that Pheebs embarked on her first driving lesson. Again, where did that go? I remember that when I first held her in my arms she cried. I cried. I was scared I'd done something wrong, but we quickly got used to each other.
I'm hoping that as my body gets used to the drugs I'm on those will lift a little. Certainly I seem to be seeing the back pain problems reducing, with the hope that they'll go completely.
--
As Kurt Wallander said in the last episode on Sunday, parenting is a long process of letting go.
Two things happened this week that made Gel and I reminisce.
First it was Caitlin's 26th birthday. Where did that all go? I first clapped eyes on her as a visitor to Withington Hosptital when she was only a day or two old. There she was, the little bundle in Gel's arms, and just look at her now.
The second event was that Pheebs embarked on her first driving lesson. Again, where did that go? I remember that when I first held her in my arms she cried. I cried. I was scared I'd done something wrong, but we quickly got used to each other.
Monday 6 June 2016
Shame on me/ Shame on her
Let's start with her. Her is Poussey, and as Pheebs and I were breakfasting yesterday morning, I saw Poussey scuttling across the decking with a small brown ball in her mouth. Pheebs immediately identified it as a sparrow, so we both tried to chase Poussey to retrieve it, but she was having none of it and shot back under the decking to do unpleasant things to poor little thing.
--
Why shame on me? Because it's taken rather longer than it should to work out why I've not been sleeping well the last few nights.
I've found that I've been waking about once an hour, maybe an hour and a half, with a right hot flush, and lungs full of menthol.
A few days ago I thought I'd try Deep Heat to try and calm my back, and have had Gel and Pheebs rub it in just before bed. What does deep heat do? It heats you up. What triggers my flushes? Being hot. Duh.
It also has upset my stomach breathing in clouds of menthol vapour. I've felt quite queasy for most of the time I've been rubbed down.
I feel so stupid for not realising earlier what it was that was upsetting my sleep. Duh.
My ribs and back are still sore and stiff, but I sense that there is an improvement. I'm now treading a fine line between not doing anything, and doing something that will set the pain off again. I'm trying to be less tentative in my posture. Less stiff, more natural. I think some of the time I've been "holding" myself in a position for fear of setting it off again.
Hopefully this isn't a false dawn, and the pain really is on the wane.
Deep heat makes you hot
Dick. That's why you're not sleeping
I hope this sorts it.
Stone-faced killer
--
Why shame on me? Because it's taken rather longer than it should to work out why I've not been sleeping well the last few nights.
I've found that I've been waking about once an hour, maybe an hour and a half, with a right hot flush, and lungs full of menthol.
A few days ago I thought I'd try Deep Heat to try and calm my back, and have had Gel and Pheebs rub it in just before bed. What does deep heat do? It heats you up. What triggers my flushes? Being hot. Duh.
It also has upset my stomach breathing in clouds of menthol vapour. I've felt quite queasy for most of the time I've been rubbed down.
I feel so stupid for not realising earlier what it was that was upsetting my sleep. Duh.
My ribs and back are still sore and stiff, but I sense that there is an improvement. I'm now treading a fine line between not doing anything, and doing something that will set the pain off again. I'm trying to be less tentative in my posture. Less stiff, more natural. I think some of the time I've been "holding" myself in a position for fear of setting it off again.
Hopefully this isn't a false dawn, and the pain really is on the wane.
Deep heat makes you hot
Dick. That's why you're not sleeping
I hope this sorts it.
Sunday 5 June 2016
Sad/ Happy
Not sure what started it, but on occasion I have a go at a haiku. I'm not sure they are particularly good, but it's a fun bit of creativity. First one marked the passing of Joe Strummer.
Joe Strummer is dead
Should I stay or should I go?
Not his decision
In the wake the death of Muhammed Ali
He stung like a bee
He moved like a butterfly
Now he rests in peace
#haiku #ali
--
Try not laughing at this.
Joe Strummer is dead
Should I stay or should I go?
Not his decision
In the wake the death of Muhammed Ali
He stung like a bee
He moved like a butterfly
Now he rests in peace
#haiku #ali
--
Try not laughing at this.
Friday 3 June 2016
Table
So, how's the back/ribs situation? Improved if not exactly cured. Very slowly, with a few setbacks there has been an improvement as I've tweaked the pain management. The current regime is four pairs of paracetamol spread across the day, with the addition of some deep heat on my back just before bed. So I've almost dropped the cocodamol and horse-ibuprofen and I am feeling pretty good. Hopefully this will be the start of a period of relatively pain free days and weeks. I'm moving much better and that helps keeping the muscles free and loose, and makes me feel more natural and relaxed. Stitting for too long brings on aches and pains, so I need to try and remember to get up and stretch every so often.
Fingers crossed.
--
We bought a new kitchen table this week. We were having a little shift about and have four raffia chairs which we are fond of, but we couldn't get two of them under the table at the same time, and there it was a bit tight on either side of the table so we needed one with slightly more leg room underneath, and slightly narrower on top.
How cute is that?
Fingers crossed.
--
We bought a new kitchen table this week. We were having a little shift about and have four raffia chairs which we are fond of, but we couldn't get two of them under the table at the same time, and there it was a bit tight on either side of the table so we needed one with slightly more leg room underneath, and slightly narrower on top.
How cute is that?
Sunday 29 May 2016
Ahead of the curve
Gel had a friend around for lunch on Friday who works in the NHS, and her words of wisdom around pain control is to keep ahead of it. Don't wait for it to get sore before taking pain control.
After a deep and dreamless codeine induced coma last night I've been keeping ahead of the curve with paracetamol and thus far - touch wood - it seems to be working. I'll try this for a few days and see how it goes from there.
--
Yesterday we went for and very nice lunch with D & S at the Frozen Mop in Mobberly. After the food, D had the wizard idea that we shufty on over to Dunham Massey for a walk, and then the reward of a coffee and cake.
Dunham was pretty full, but not overwhelmingly so. We had a walk around the garden, bobbed in the orangery, and ended up on the terrace of the cafe with a huge lump of cake and coffee.
--
This morning we had a very slow start to the day which involved much sitting in the warm morning sunshine on our decking.
If you remember to a few blogs ago where I was telling you about the drudgery of decorating Caitlin and Andy's house, well this afternoon we went over for a BBQ. We had a look around the house which is looking really really nice. They've done such a nice job. The most recent addition is internal doors which look great. They've even started on getting the garden in order. It is a huge transformation from the complete wreck they took on, to a light, airy, and beautifully dressed home.
The BBQ was damn fine too. Here's a couple of pics from the back yard.
After a deep and dreamless codeine induced coma last night I've been keeping ahead of the curve with paracetamol and thus far - touch wood - it seems to be working. I'll try this for a few days and see how it goes from there.
--
Yesterday we went for and very nice lunch with D & S at the Frozen Mop in Mobberly. After the food, D had the wizard idea that we shufty on over to Dunham Massey for a walk, and then the reward of a coffee and cake.
Frozen Mop shadows
Dunham was pretty full, but not overwhelmingly so. We had a walk around the garden, bobbed in the orangery, and ended up on the terrace of the cafe with a huge lump of cake and coffee.
Dunham House
Batman emerging from a Batman Flower
--
This morning we had a very slow start to the day which involved much sitting in the warm morning sunshine on our decking.
If you remember to a few blogs ago where I was telling you about the drudgery of decorating Caitlin and Andy's house, well this afternoon we went over for a BBQ. We had a look around the house which is looking really really nice. They've done such a nice job. The most recent addition is internal doors which look great. They've even started on getting the garden in order. It is a huge transformation from the complete wreck they took on, to a light, airy, and beautifully dressed home.
The BBQ was damn fine too. Here's a couple of pics from the back yard.
You can see I'm out of practice taking pictures. All that foreground interference.
Caitlin serving the burgers
Group shot with Andy
Group shot with me
Thursday 26 May 2016
Oh, the irony #34
When we went to Little Moreton Hall yesterday, I took my Fuji X-T1 with 16-55mm lens for a run out.
Camera? Check
Battery? Check
Spare battery? Check
Lens cap? Check
Got there and, oh sweet irony, I'd forgotten to put a memory card in the camera.....bugger.
--
Back pain is still there and I think I need to move away from being brave and just dose myself up with painkillers. Quick check with Christie tells me it might subside, but might also stay the entire time on the drug so I need to manage the pain rather expect it to drop away.
Tough on all of us that I'm carrying constant pain just at the moment.
Camera? Check
Battery? Check
Spare battery? Check
Lens cap? Check
Got there and, oh sweet irony, I'd forgotten to put a memory card in the camera.....bugger.
--
Back pain is still there and I think I need to move away from being brave and just dose myself up with painkillers. Quick check with Christie tells me it might subside, but might also stay the entire time on the drug so I need to manage the pain rather expect it to drop away.
Tough on all of us that I'm carrying constant pain just at the moment.
Wednesday 25 May 2016
The Hunter
We've got two cats. Boo, a black male, and Poussey and black and white female. He is big cat, not over endowed with brain matter, she is small and appears to be higher up the clever scale. Lucky for her.
We've wondered if they were to start hunting more than just flies and bees, which would be the first to succeed. Well this morning we got our answer. Pheebs was looking out at the garden and noticed that Boo was scuttling about with something in his mouth. At first we thought a frog, so we went out and tried (successfully) to rescue what turned out to be a wee mousie.
Boo gave up his treasure without much of a fight and the poor thing, while shocked, seemed unhurt when I released it on the other side of the garden. Boo then thundered around perhaps pumped up with a surge of adrenalin.
Poussey watched on, a little bemused, but joined in a little of the thundering about before retiring to the latest cat favourite sitting point outside.
I suspect they like it because they can sit outside and observe the world but keep dry and warm. At one time they've both settled down together. Awwww.
--
We then went over to Congleton and visited one of my favourite places, Little Moreton Hall.
It's a National Trust property which was built in 1504 and was pretty much finished by 1610. In it's entire life it has never been sold, passing down the Moreton family until the National Trust took it on in 1938.
This bay window was installed in 1559 and at the top of the window you can see that the "Carpender" (carpenter) Rychard Dale was allowed to put a small advert above the window. The word carved says "Carpeder" but just above the E and D is a blob which indicates a missing N.
The next line is just a bit like Twitter with a character limit, he must have run out of space so it says "BY THE GRAC OF GOD".
If you haven't been, then I'd highly recommend it.
We've wondered if they were to start hunting more than just flies and bees, which would be the first to succeed. Well this morning we got our answer. Pheebs was looking out at the garden and noticed that Boo was scuttling about with something in his mouth. At first we thought a frog, so we went out and tried (successfully) to rescue what turned out to be a wee mousie.
Boo gave up his treasure without much of a fight and the poor thing, while shocked, seemed unhurt when I released it on the other side of the garden. Boo then thundered around perhaps pumped up with a surge of adrenalin.
Poussey watched on, a little bemused, but joined in a little of the thundering about before retiring to the latest cat favourite sitting point outside.
I suspect they like it because they can sit outside and observe the world but keep dry and warm. At one time they've both settled down together. Awwww.
--
We then went over to Congleton and visited one of my favourite places, Little Moreton Hall.
It's a National Trust property which was built in 1504 and was pretty much finished by 1610. In it's entire life it has never been sold, passing down the Moreton family until the National Trust took it on in 1938.
This bay window was installed in 1559 and at the top of the window you can see that the "Carpender" (carpenter) Rychard Dale was allowed to put a small advert above the window. The word carved says "Carpeder" but just above the E and D is a blob which indicates a missing N.
The next line is just a bit like Twitter with a character limit, he must have run out of space so it says "BY THE GRAC OF GOD".
If you haven't been, then I'd highly recommend it.
Monday 23 May 2016
The Monday after
Winning the FA Cup ought to be a special day, but was rather overrun by talk of the Special One. And that's disappointing.
I'm sure this information must have been available, or leaked, at a time when the fans should be basking in the glow of another FA Cup win. Before you start bleating about it not being a classic, how many actually are? I remember being at the 1985 final when Utd beat Everton. Two teams at the top of their game - although it ought to be said they were topper than what we was - and the game was dire, right up until Kevin Moran was sent off in the 78th minute. Then it was only exciting because it was 10 v 11, and because the winning goal was such a good one. The rest of the game seemed to be two tired teams trundling around after a long season.
I also think that making the information public at that time was very disrespectful to Louis van Gaal. Instead of being able to sit back and demonstrate something from the last two years, it was straight into damage control around him leaving to be replaced by someone who is splitting the fans opinion. The whole weekend has felt rather less celebratory than it ought.
Mourihno clearly has what it takes to win something, but doesn't hang about for long. I think United fans have been rather spoiled by having Fergie for 26 year and it would be foolish to expect that sort of tenure (in the same way Philadelphia Athletics fans were spoiled by having Connie Mack as their manager for 50 years - he retired at the end of the 1950 season at the age of 87), but it would be nice to see him stay and build something of value.
I think many people worry that he wins things entirely by buying in players and not developing them, which isn't our way. There hasn't always been a Neville/Neville/Butt/Giggs/Scholes/Beckham quantity of players coming through, but there has been a fairly constant trickle. Not all of the made the grade with us, but there's something nice about cheering for a lad who's been with us since he was 13. It's interesting to see how those youngsters who don't quite make it with us are able to make living elsewhere. Premier League medal winner, and England squad member Danny Drinkwater being the most obvious at the moment.
Anyway, it looks like a done deal. Once he's announced as our manager then it's my job to get behind him and support him. Hopefully his time away will have made him reassess his approach, and things will as successful but without the circus. Fingers crossed.
Wednesday 18 May 2016
Fall from grace
There was a really good discussion on R4 this afternoon between a couple of people who'd had bad falls. One out of a fast moving boat, the other down the side of a cliff.
This started my subconscious going - I was driving at the time so my conscious was occupied - thinking about vehicle accidents I'd been in. Not that many luckily.
The first one was when I had a motorbike. Never again. When I first started working I had no mode of transport and in those long off days you could ride a motorbike - not more than 125cc - on a provisional licence for two years. Which I did.
I'd never ridden a motorbike until I picked my new Honda 125cc from the shop. How I didn't kill myself in the first few weeks is a complete mystery. In fact I did pretty well only coming a cropper once in the two years I owned it. I went over a nail, the back tyre went flat, and the back end started bouncing in a somewhat ungainly manner.
Iinstead of stopping and then looking at what had happened, I looked down over my shoulder. At that point turning the handlebars, and I went flying over them as the bike lurched to a halt and I fell on my hands in the other lane. I didn't realise I was being followed by a police car, but they were kind and helped me get the bike to the motorbike shop in Wilmslow which is now an Indian restaurant. My wrists hurt for a while after, but no lasting damage to either me or the bike.
The next one was coming home as a passenger in a Ford Granada estate from having a curry in Rusholme. As we headed along the dual carriageway a small car appeared at the side junction ahead on the left. We both clocked it. It started to come out of the junction, had a change of mind and stopped and then, too late tried to make bolt for it.
It was a flimsy little french estate and he hit it towards the rear spinning it around a couple of times and throwing the contents of the car across the road. The Granada, being a big heavy thing, while damaged, protected us fine. I do remember the whole event happening in slow motion. It meant we were late getting to the pub.
The most recent was in North Wales early one morning with fresh snow on the ground and the car going straight on when I tried to negotiate a bend, and hitting a lamppost and a stone wall. Slowly, I thought, but knackered the front of the car.
I also pulled out from a junction not having seen a car coming from the right, and sending it into the wall of a local pub. No casualties, but the woman I hit was, not unreasonably, shaken up.
The most spectacular was when I was overtaken on the motorway by a Sliver Lexus going backwards. It it the central reservation, and bounced back into the carriageway, hitting me on the side and sending me spinning off into a field. I was SO lucky as I hit a fence post going backwards so the impact just forced me into the seat. Had I gone forward there could have been all sorts of nasty consequences. The car was completely written off but I escaped with sore biceps. I'd been gripping the steering wheel so tightly. Such an adrenaline rush. I remember standing on the hard shoulder calculating if I'd missed my train to London and whether I could make the next one. I have some pictures somewhere, I'll look them out and scan them for a later blog.
Hope that's the last. They aren't fun.
This started my subconscious going - I was driving at the time so my conscious was occupied - thinking about vehicle accidents I'd been in. Not that many luckily.
The first one was when I had a motorbike. Never again. When I first started working I had no mode of transport and in those long off days you could ride a motorbike - not more than 125cc - on a provisional licence for two years. Which I did.
I'd never ridden a motorbike until I picked my new Honda 125cc from the shop. How I didn't kill myself in the first few weeks is a complete mystery. In fact I did pretty well only coming a cropper once in the two years I owned it. I went over a nail, the back tyre went flat, and the back end started bouncing in a somewhat ungainly manner.
Iinstead of stopping and then looking at what had happened, I looked down over my shoulder. At that point turning the handlebars, and I went flying over them as the bike lurched to a halt and I fell on my hands in the other lane. I didn't realise I was being followed by a police car, but they were kind and helped me get the bike to the motorbike shop in Wilmslow which is now an Indian restaurant. My wrists hurt for a while after, but no lasting damage to either me or the bike.
The next one was coming home as a passenger in a Ford Granada estate from having a curry in Rusholme. As we headed along the dual carriageway a small car appeared at the side junction ahead on the left. We both clocked it. It started to come out of the junction, had a change of mind and stopped and then, too late tried to make bolt for it.
It was a flimsy little french estate and he hit it towards the rear spinning it around a couple of times and throwing the contents of the car across the road. The Granada, being a big heavy thing, while damaged, protected us fine. I do remember the whole event happening in slow motion. It meant we were late getting to the pub.
The most recent was in North Wales early one morning with fresh snow on the ground and the car going straight on when I tried to negotiate a bend, and hitting a lamppost and a stone wall. Slowly, I thought, but knackered the front of the car.
I also pulled out from a junction not having seen a car coming from the right, and sending it into the wall of a local pub. No casualties, but the woman I hit was, not unreasonably, shaken up.
The most spectacular was when I was overtaken on the motorway by a Sliver Lexus going backwards. It it the central reservation, and bounced back into the carriageway, hitting me on the side and sending me spinning off into a field. I was SO lucky as I hit a fence post going backwards so the impact just forced me into the seat. Had I gone forward there could have been all sorts of nasty consequences. The car was completely written off but I escaped with sore biceps. I'd been gripping the steering wheel so tightly. Such an adrenaline rush. I remember standing on the hard shoulder calculating if I'd missed my train to London and whether I could make the next one. I have some pictures somewhere, I'll look them out and scan them for a later blog.
Hope that's the last. They aren't fun.
Sunday 15 May 2016
Advice to budding bloggers #1
Last night, as a was going to sleep, I started to write a blog. In me head. It was well funny. A famous saying, or moment from todays news, segue into an anecdote about me, either currently or from the past, before returning to the original thing that sparked my imagination. Followed by a picture of a cat.
Advice #1 - write stuff down.
That fantastic blog post I was thinking about yesterday is gone. You might get the cat picture, however.
--
Yesterday Gel noted that Boo seemed to limp a little, and when we had a closer look, we could see that his back right leg was inflamed. He limped a little, but he still managed to jump up to the top of the wardrobe, go out through the cat flap and troll about the garden, and his appetite was not suppressed. No obvious injury, and he didn't mind us handling it, so we decided to hold off a vet visit and this morning he seems returned to full health.
He doesn't seem unduly mithered, does he?
--
Friday was a very nice evening, as we met up with our good friends P and J and went for a really nice meal at The Fishpool Inn, Delamere.
I think we could recommend both the food and the company.
Advice #1 - write stuff down.
That fantastic blog post I was thinking about yesterday is gone. You might get the cat picture, however.
--
Yesterday Gel noted that Boo seemed to limp a little, and when we had a closer look, we could see that his back right leg was inflamed. He limped a little, but he still managed to jump up to the top of the wardrobe, go out through the cat flap and troll about the garden, and his appetite was not suppressed. No obvious injury, and he didn't mind us handling it, so we decided to hold off a vet visit and this morning he seems returned to full health.
He doesn't seem unduly mithered, does he?
--
Friday was a very nice evening, as we met up with our good friends P and J and went for a really nice meal at The Fishpool Inn, Delamere.
I think we could recommend both the food and the company.
Wednesday 11 May 2016
Zeb's dead baby, Zeb's dead
Yeah, yeah, I know, it shout be "Zed's dead" as I hear millions of Pulp Fiction fans berating me for misquoting from the fillum.
But I saw this on the road and thought I could do a whole skit about Zebedee from the Magic Roundabout being hit by a car, and taken off to hospital. Yeah, I know. It seemed funny at the time.
--
So, where am I physically? Emotionally I'm drained after that, admittedly, exciting game against West Ham. Why is it we can't hold on to a lead?
A couple of days ago I was really struggling with pains in my lower back, shoulder, mid-back, neck and ribs. It turns out that these could have been a side effect of the enzalutamide I'm on, which, counterintuitively, cheered me up. At least there was a reason for what ailed me.
Since then I've taken things quite easily. I haven't come to a grinding halt. I drove to Wem on Sunday, did a small amount of weeding on Monday (which aggravated the ribs a little), but as I sit here typing this, I am left with just one of two sharp twinges, which hurt mostly when I sneeze. Would it be too much to think they all might be but a memory come Friday?
Fingers crossed.
But I saw this on the road and thought I could do a whole skit about Zebedee from the Magic Roundabout being hit by a car, and taken off to hospital. Yeah, I know. It seemed funny at the time.
--
So, where am I physically? Emotionally I'm drained after that, admittedly, exciting game against West Ham. Why is it we can't hold on to a lead?
A couple of days ago I was really struggling with pains in my lower back, shoulder, mid-back, neck and ribs. It turns out that these could have been a side effect of the enzalutamide I'm on, which, counterintuitively, cheered me up. At least there was a reason for what ailed me.
Since then I've taken things quite easily. I haven't come to a grinding halt. I drove to Wem on Sunday, did a small amount of weeding on Monday (which aggravated the ribs a little), but as I sit here typing this, I am left with just one of two sharp twinges, which hurt mostly when I sneeze. Would it be too much to think they all might be but a memory come Friday?
Fingers crossed.
Monday 9 May 2016
Hobbit forming
Yesterday we travelled to the wilds of Shropshire to christen a "Hobbit Hut". Now until yesterday I thought that might be an industry standard term, but it turns out that it is a name given to a BBQ Hut by C who, with S, have bought and installed (if S is to be believed, entirely under his own steam) in their back garden.
And quite magnificent it is too
It was, or at least felt like, the hottest day of the year, so the all-weatherness of the hut were a bit redundant. In fact it was 36 degrees inside where S was preparing the meaty meatiness. There were lots of jokes about plunge pools, and nakedness, and birch twigs. I'd like to go back in the autumn or winter and give it a proper go.
Other than that it was a right good afternoon of good food and good company.
--
On the way back we came under the airport tunnels just as a monster Emirates plane trundled over the top. What a treat.
--
On the way I saw a sign warning "Factory Turning" and when we got there it was a Bread Factory... No matter how big it is, I think it should always be called a bakery. Surely bread must always come from a bakery, no matter it's size..
--
We were richly entertained by BBC R4 Desert Island Discs on the way yesterday. The castaway was Tom Hanks. What a nice man. What an interesting man. Find it on iPlayer if you haven't heard it.
--
Irrelevant picture of a cat on a chair:
And quite magnificent it is too
It was, or at least felt like, the hottest day of the year, so the all-weatherness of the hut were a bit redundant. In fact it was 36 degrees inside where S was preparing the meaty meatiness. There were lots of jokes about plunge pools, and nakedness, and birch twigs. I'd like to go back in the autumn or winter and give it a proper go.
Other than that it was a right good afternoon of good food and good company.
--
On the way back we came under the airport tunnels just as a monster Emirates plane trundled over the top. What a treat.
--
On the way I saw a sign warning "Factory Turning" and when we got there it was a Bread Factory... No matter how big it is, I think it should always be called a bakery. Surely bread must always come from a bakery, no matter it's size..
--
We were richly entertained by BBC R4 Desert Island Discs on the way yesterday. The castaway was Tom Hanks. What a nice man. What an interesting man. Find it on iPlayer if you haven't heard it.
--
Irrelevant picture of a cat on a chair:
Friday 6 May 2016
The First Cut is the Deepest
It has got to that time of the year when one has to stop appreciating the daffs, the blossom, the new leaves, and mow the lawn for the first time.
It's a dangerous balance. Do it too early and it's wet and horrible, leave it too late and it's dry but too long.
It's not huge, and it isn't very level. When I bought the house there was an old tree stump about where the clothes dryer is.
I don't have a lawnmower of my own, and this is mostly because my dad lives on the next street and has the most wonderful petrol mower. When it's time for a mow, I wander round and steal it from his garage, push it along the street and into my garden.
Yesterday I decided to do it even though I was struggling mightily. I have a longstanding shoulder injury but over the last couple of weeks managed to pick up problems with my back, hips, neck and ribs. At least that's what I thought until I saw the first line of possible side effects from my new drug (Enzalutamide) were: "Back pain, joint aches, musculoskeletal pain".
So I do have pain, but probably not from over exercise or physical activity. This was a little comforting as I was beginning to think that I would never be able to do anything physical again for fear of injury.
Anyway, I was moving a little tentatively. Walking is possible, just not at any speed, so I ambled round to my Dads, nicked the mower and brought it home. Tried to fire it up. No go. No petrol in the tank. Bugger.
Found a petrol can in my shed and walked up to the local petrol station, filled it, came back and filled the mower. Started the beast up and did my first few cuts, stopping when the grass bin was full.
As I started to empty the contents into the composter, I felt something hard and plasticky. I had checked the lawn for debris and "cat presents" before I started, and found none, but I must have mowed something into the grass bin. As I cleared the grass away I was disappointed to uncover another petrol can, with petrol, that had been stored (I think by me) in the grass bin. Those slow walks to and from the petrol station had been for nought.
Never mind. My dad now has a can of petrol and so do I. If the bomb drops we can carry on mowing our lawns for quite a bit. Assuming the grass survives.
It's a dangerous balance. Do it too early and it's wet and horrible, leave it too late and it's dry but too long.
Before
After
It's not huge, and it isn't very level. When I bought the house there was an old tree stump about where the clothes dryer is.
I don't have a lawnmower of my own, and this is mostly because my dad lives on the next street and has the most wonderful petrol mower. When it's time for a mow, I wander round and steal it from his garage, push it along the street and into my garden.
Yesterday I decided to do it even though I was struggling mightily. I have a longstanding shoulder injury but over the last couple of weeks managed to pick up problems with my back, hips, neck and ribs. At least that's what I thought until I saw the first line of possible side effects from my new drug (Enzalutamide) were: "Back pain, joint aches, musculoskeletal pain".
So I do have pain, but probably not from over exercise or physical activity. This was a little comforting as I was beginning to think that I would never be able to do anything physical again for fear of injury.
Anyway, I was moving a little tentatively. Walking is possible, just not at any speed, so I ambled round to my Dads, nicked the mower and brought it home. Tried to fire it up. No go. No petrol in the tank. Bugger.
Found a petrol can in my shed and walked up to the local petrol station, filled it, came back and filled the mower. Started the beast up and did my first few cuts, stopping when the grass bin was full.
As I started to empty the contents into the composter, I felt something hard and plasticky. I had checked the lawn for debris and "cat presents" before I started, and found none, but I must have mowed something into the grass bin. As I cleared the grass away I was disappointed to uncover another petrol can, with petrol, that had been stored (I think by me) in the grass bin. Those slow walks to and from the petrol station had been for nought.
Never mind. My dad now has a can of petrol and so do I. If the bomb drops we can carry on mowing our lawns for quite a bit. Assuming the grass survives.
Thursday 5 May 2016
T'Footie
Well, well, well. Things have been very exciting over the last week or so . Man U managed to hold the mighty Leicester City to a draw at Old Trafford on Sunday, but after a, ahem, robust game at Stamford Bridge the Foxes were confirmed as Champions of England for the first time in their history.
Cue a whole slew of articles about whether or not this was the biggest surprise win of all time. Buster Douglas beating Mike Tyson? Nottm Forest winning the league and then two European Cups on the bounce. The Boston Red Sox going from worst in 2012, to first to win the 2013 World Series.
Whether it is or not is faintly irrelevant. It is a fairytale come true. It has made me very happy.
This came on the back of United getting to the Cup Final (Monday of this week marked the 40th anniversary of my first visit to Wembley to see United cheated out of the trophy by Southampton's clearly offside goal). A cracking game of two halves against Everton who must have felt hard done to losing to a goal in injury time. Good goal though.
Then last night it was pleasing to see city get knocked out of the semi final of the champions league. Not that I did see it as I was out with a few work colleagues for a curry. Everything will be complete if Villareal advance to the final of the Europa League at the expense of Liverpool tonight.
The Leicester story is quite nice as it is a story of another team doing well pleasing me, rather than other teams failing. It's an odd way to be. We have a friend in Germany who supports Nurnburg (currently 3rd in the German 2nd division) but then supports any German side against any team from any other country. Is this an English was of thinking? Or is it just me that hopes for rivals to fail, even if it is against dirty foreigners?
Cue a whole slew of articles about whether or not this was the biggest surprise win of all time. Buster Douglas beating Mike Tyson? Nottm Forest winning the league and then two European Cups on the bounce. The Boston Red Sox going from worst in 2012, to first to win the 2013 World Series.
Whether it is or not is faintly irrelevant. It is a fairytale come true. It has made me very happy.
This came on the back of United getting to the Cup Final (Monday of this week marked the 40th anniversary of my first visit to Wembley to see United cheated out of the trophy by Southampton's clearly offside goal). A cracking game of two halves against Everton who must have felt hard done to losing to a goal in injury time. Good goal though.
Then last night it was pleasing to see city get knocked out of the semi final of the champions league. Not that I did see it as I was out with a few work colleagues for a curry. Everything will be complete if Villareal advance to the final of the Europa League at the expense of Liverpool tonight.
The Leicester story is quite nice as it is a story of another team doing well pleasing me, rather than other teams failing. It's an odd way to be. We have a friend in Germany who supports Nurnburg (currently 3rd in the German 2nd division) but then supports any German side against any team from any other country. Is this an English was of thinking? Or is it just me that hopes for rivals to fail, even if it is against dirty foreigners?
Wednesday 4 May 2016
Hello
Rip Rig and Panic
Sandii and the Sunsetz
Lloyd Cole and the Commotions
Skids
The Everly Brothers
How could I forget the Everly Brothers?
-
I have a biscuit tin in which I store a few "magical and wonderful" things. I showed the contents to me mother, John and Gel last week. One of the things in the tin are a few concert tickets. Many of which are nothing more than a torn off cloakroom ticket.
One of the tickets is from an Elvis Costello gig at Lancaster Uni. A friend of mine was going up and offered a lift, an offer which I was happy to take up.
I took my camera - an Olympus OM10 - with a couple of lenses and a couple of rolls of Ilford ISO400 film. In our party we had someone with a walkman that could record in stereo and, more surprising, another had a video recorder. Bearing in mind this was 1982 so the recorder was enormous. There was a large camera attached to a briefcase sized unit containing the tape recording element, and a battery.
It being 1984 we all had long "Echo and the Bunnymen" coats, and as we approached the venue the security was there, alert as ever. "Got any cameras there lads?" "No" "Ok in you go"
My pics turned out not bad. No great, but ok. I'm not sure I ever heard the tape recording, but I saw the pitiful video. The person taping it had to hold it above his head among the standing punters and vaguely point it towards the stage. The device had no LCD screen like you do now. The primitive autofocus and the fact that the cameraman was moving in the crowd and by the very fact of having to hold the camera aloft, made for a pretty ropey quality. The battery only lasted for about 45 minutes.
There was some grand plan to edit the (stereo) sound and vision together, but I'm pretty that never happened.
After the gig we wandered aimlessly around, not wanting to simply shoot off back down the motorway. We were watching the roadies load up the kit into the tour lorries when someone shouted, "Oy, over here". I thought were in trouble for something, but was we approached the person shouting it was clear we weren't. He'd just mistaken us for someone else, "Down the corridor, second right".
So we followed the instructions and found ourselves in a room with a mirror along one wall below which was some food and drink, and in the room was Elvis, Pete, Bruce and Steve. We hung around and chatted for a while, and that's where I got one of my greatest single things in my box of "magical and wonderful" things:
Sandii and the Sunsetz
Lloyd Cole and the Commotions
Skids
The Everly Brothers
How could I forget the Everly Brothers?
-
I have a biscuit tin in which I store a few "magical and wonderful" things. I showed the contents to me mother, John and Gel last week. One of the things in the tin are a few concert tickets. Many of which are nothing more than a torn off cloakroom ticket.
One of the tickets is from an Elvis Costello gig at Lancaster Uni. A friend of mine was going up and offered a lift, an offer which I was happy to take up.
I took my camera - an Olympus OM10 - with a couple of lenses and a couple of rolls of Ilford ISO400 film. In our party we had someone with a walkman that could record in stereo and, more surprising, another had a video recorder. Bearing in mind this was 1982 so the recorder was enormous. There was a large camera attached to a briefcase sized unit containing the tape recording element, and a battery.
It being 1984 we all had long "Echo and the Bunnymen" coats, and as we approached the venue the security was there, alert as ever. "Got any cameras there lads?" "No" "Ok in you go"
My pics turned out not bad. No great, but ok. I'm not sure I ever heard the tape recording, but I saw the pitiful video. The person taping it had to hold it above his head among the standing punters and vaguely point it towards the stage. The device had no LCD screen like you do now. The primitive autofocus and the fact that the cameraman was moving in the crowd and by the very fact of having to hold the camera aloft, made for a pretty ropey quality. The battery only lasted for about 45 minutes.
There was some grand plan to edit the (stereo) sound and vision together, but I'm pretty that never happened.
After the gig we wandered aimlessly around, not wanting to simply shoot off back down the motorway. We were watching the roadies load up the kit into the tour lorries when someone shouted, "Oy, over here". I thought were in trouble for something, but was we approached the person shouting it was clear we weren't. He'd just mistaken us for someone else, "Down the corridor, second right".
So we followed the instructions and found ourselves in a room with a mirror along one wall below which was some food and drink, and in the room was Elvis, Pete, Bruce and Steve. We hung around and chatted for a while, and that's where I got one of my greatest single things in my box of "magical and wonderful" things:
L-R: Elvis Costello, Bruce Thomas (bass), Pete Thomas (drums), Steve Nieve (keyboards)
Saturday 23 April 2016
With great power comes great responsibility
In my last blog, I slightly dissed Prince. The following day, he woke up and found himself dead. I realise now that I need to be very careful on what, or who, I write about.
That last blog talked about rather unfortunate gigs, in a feeble attempt to avoid answering the "What was the best of those gigs?" question.
What is that makes a gig so great?
The artist(s), because in some cases the gig might be great because of the line up (Live Aid anyone?) not just because of the headliners.
Quality of performance. It probably isn't possible to qualify as a 'best gig' if the main act stinks up the joint.
Level of expectancy. One of the gigs I'm going to talk about wasn't my idea to go to.
Context and history. What was happening at the time, and what's happened since.
I've picked out six acts, but will only talk about 5 gigs. I've seen Elvis Costello quite a few times now. Double figures probably. He's been my go-to guy ever since I first saw him in Birmingham at his Xmas show in 1980 (Elvis, Rockpile, UB40, Squeeze, Madness, Selector and hosted by John Cooper Clarke). I went up to see him at Lancaster Uni in 1984 (?), photographed the gig and somehow we ended up in the dressing room talking with him and the Attractions. The autographed ticket I have from that event is one of my treasured musical possessions.
--
Last time I described a gig at an empty Manchester Poly Students Union. This one was not empty. In fact we carried on queueing outside even after the bouncers told us it was full. The same night Echo and the Bunnymen were on at the Uni SU and that's who I wanted to see, but was outvoted.
We stayed outside in the cold night air pleading with the bouncers who, after the queue had dwindled enough, relented and let us in. As you might guess the place was rammed, and we were all there to see The Dead Kennedys. They were a tight US punk band - ours tended to to be musical troglodytes with plenty of piss and vinegar, the US versions tended to be a bit more musically accomplished but less arsey - and had had some notoriety when the family of John F and Robert Kennedy tried to get them to change the bands name. Of their fast and furious singles my clear favourite is California Uber Alles, their other notable singles included Kill The Poor and Holiday in Cambodia. The band was very tight guitar/bass/drums with maniacal Jello Biafra taking up the crooning duties. I remember he wore jeans, no shirt and was quite happy to smear himself in the gob projected up by the Mancunian music lovers. Great, tight, loud band, excitable crowd crammed in like Tokyo commuters, expctation not high having wanted to see Echo. Very good.
--
The second on this list was a fairly new band from Ireland called U2. It was October 1981 and they were promoting their first LP, October (ironic, eh?). This was another case of being encouraged to go and see them rather than having picked to see them myself. The venue was Maxwell Hall, at Salford Uni and was organised by the Students Union. The support acts (that I remember very little of) were the UKs very own Comsat Angels, and from the US, Wall of Voodoo. The singer in Wall of Voodoo was a guy named Stan Ridgeway who had a minor hit with a song called Camouflage a few years later (which I somewhat dig). After the entree came the main course, and by crikey did they kick ass. The Maxwell Hall had a basement so the floor wasn't solid, and all night you could feel it bounce as Bono and the lads took us through their repertoire. It was exciting, Bono engaged with the audience exhorting us to jump and bounce. The venue was small (capacity of 1200) and we were packed in.
I have this weird psychological thing about bands that I like them when they're small, and can turn my back on them when they hit the big time. I kind of like the Barenaked Ladies because they're great but never seem to have hit the Arena-time audiences that, say, U2 have. I turned against U2 in the late 80's and get rather sniffy about them playing to huge audiences around the world. I wouldn't pay to see them in an arena, but would if they played the Maxwell hall again. Setting my subsequent (slightly weird) dislike of them, this was a belting gig.
--
I've talked about the Young Marble Giants gig in a previous blog. A quiet, unassuming trio from South Wales playing at Rafters. Capacity 700 with a low ceiling, this was an ideal venue. We sat enthralled while they played their album, and then while they played some of it over as they had no encore.
--
In the late 1970's we moved from Manchester to the commuter town of Wilmslow. The family next door had four (?) children, and I became friends with one son who was about my age. Much to my delight, it turned out that his older sister was working behind the bar at the Apollo.
The Ardwick Apollo was opened in 1938 by Margaret Lockwood as a multi-purpose cinema and variety theatre. It stopped showing films on the 1970s and was probably the largest venue in Manchester at the time (places like MEN Arena and G-Mex hadn't opened) and still has concerts on today. During a short period she managed to get us access to The Two Tone Tour, Buzzcocks (supported by Joy Division), Concert 3 (I can't remember offhand who that was), and The Jam.
The Jam was another concert that I hadn't sought out and bought tickets for, but was very very pleased when we scooted on the bus to see it. The concert was in support of their Setting Sons album so would have been late 79, early 80. Although he'd (Paul Weller) never do it, I would pay good money to see the Jam play live again. It's hard to imagine how three blokes (guitar/bass/drums) could play so loud. Because we didn't have proper tickets, once in the Apollo we had to stick to the circle. I can attest to the engineering that must have gone into the construction of the Ardwick Apollo circle as the entire upstairs audience bounced and jumped and shouted. Rammed to the gunwales, a really tight, top musical band at the top of their game.
--
The final on my list was at the Factory in Hulme. This was the venue opened and run by Tony Wilson in the late 70's. The building already had a name - The Russell Club - and Wilson and his mates used the venue to host various 'new wave' acts. It was in an area which to softy middle class boys like me, was very scary, although to be fair I never saw anything that supported that theory. Sure, you'd be accosted by scrotes asking to lend 10p, but nothing wildly violent. Then again, I didn't go that much. It was a small venue with a capacity of about 800.
In a previous blog I talked about going to a record shop in Stockport to buy a Nick Lowe LP. Well that same shop was where I bought "B-52s" by the B-52s (including a free single) in 1979.
It was well different to the sort of thing I'd bought before. Guitar/drums and three singers (Cindy, Fred and Kate) who various filled in on keyboards, bass, cowbells and toy telephone. They were from Athens, GA, and had a kitchy aesthetic. Very danceable. Silly.
On 28th July 1979, the B-52's played the Factory and I was there. The place was heaving, the band played their music, we danced, we sang, we cheered, and I have a very strong memory of moisture running down the walls. It was epic. At the end of the gig, and as the audience cleared, I asked one of the roadies if I might have a drumstick as a souvenir. That's how I have one of Keith Stickland's drumsticks in my office at home.
There is something quite nerdy about being able to say your saw a big band when they were still wee. If that's the case then the U2 one would win hands down, but actually I favour this B-52s gig and, if pushed, would plump for it as my best all time. Early performance by a band still doing it 37 years later, great performance, full and fully engaged audience, legendary venue.
---
Some other memories of gigs.
Walking through lakes of urine in the mens toilets at the Mayflower Club in Manchester while at the same time being scared, as the band - Mo-Dettes - were rumoured to have a skinhead following.
Getting backstage at the OMD gig and being given a badge by one of the band and discussing the sleeve design of Electricity, their first single.
The fuse blowing during the Selector set at the Two Tone tour and them trying to perform accapella versions of their songs while they waited for a fix
The Stranglers gig at the Apollo, where they had strippers come on and dance when they performed Nice and Sleazy, and the gig ending early when some audience members climbed on the PA stack and it fell over.
The Cure gig, at which there were no bands to support the main act, but instead a couple of animated films, only one I still remember, called Ubu Roi. Nice and arty.
Slim Gaillard, a jazz musician who I saw at the Band on the Wall. I ended up standing next to him in the gents having a wee, and lurked outside to get a pic when he came out. I took my camera to this gig, with a flash, and when I took the first shot, he stopped playing (aaaaaaaagh), came over to where we were sitting and posed. Later on during the gig he kept asking, "Where's my friend the photographer?".
Julian Cope was the lead singer and bass player with Teardrop Explodes and was famous for being a little eccentric. The band came out, and I noticed a tall wooden stool on the stage. On the stool was a bowl, and in the bowl were some wet leaves of lettuce. During the gig, Cope would take a leaf of lettuce, shake the water off it and toss it gently into the crowd.
Do you remember Gordon the Moron (from Jilted John)? There was a bloke called Gordon the Moron and he bummed a cigarette from me in exchange for him showing me the naked lady painted on the lining of his tie.
That last blog talked about rather unfortunate gigs, in a feeble attempt to avoid answering the "What was the best of those gigs?" question.
What is that makes a gig so great?
The artist(s), because in some cases the gig might be great because of the line up (Live Aid anyone?) not just because of the headliners.
Quality of performance. It probably isn't possible to qualify as a 'best gig' if the main act stinks up the joint.
Level of expectancy. One of the gigs I'm going to talk about wasn't my idea to go to.
Context and history. What was happening at the time, and what's happened since.
I've picked out six acts, but will only talk about 5 gigs. I've seen Elvis Costello quite a few times now. Double figures probably. He's been my go-to guy ever since I first saw him in Birmingham at his Xmas show in 1980 (Elvis, Rockpile, UB40, Squeeze, Madness, Selector and hosted by John Cooper Clarke). I went up to see him at Lancaster Uni in 1984 (?), photographed the gig and somehow we ended up in the dressing room talking with him and the Attractions. The autographed ticket I have from that event is one of my treasured musical possessions.
--
Last time I described a gig at an empty Manchester Poly Students Union. This one was not empty. In fact we carried on queueing outside even after the bouncers told us it was full. The same night Echo and the Bunnymen were on at the Uni SU and that's who I wanted to see, but was outvoted.
We stayed outside in the cold night air pleading with the bouncers who, after the queue had dwindled enough, relented and let us in. As you might guess the place was rammed, and we were all there to see The Dead Kennedys. They were a tight US punk band - ours tended to to be musical troglodytes with plenty of piss and vinegar, the US versions tended to be a bit more musically accomplished but less arsey - and had had some notoriety when the family of John F and Robert Kennedy tried to get them to change the bands name. Of their fast and furious singles my clear favourite is California Uber Alles, their other notable singles included Kill The Poor and Holiday in Cambodia. The band was very tight guitar/bass/drums with maniacal Jello Biafra taking up the crooning duties. I remember he wore jeans, no shirt and was quite happy to smear himself in the gob projected up by the Mancunian music lovers. Great, tight, loud band, excitable crowd crammed in like Tokyo commuters, expctation not high having wanted to see Echo. Very good.
--
The second on this list was a fairly new band from Ireland called U2. It was October 1981 and they were promoting their first LP, October (ironic, eh?). This was another case of being encouraged to go and see them rather than having picked to see them myself. The venue was Maxwell Hall, at Salford Uni and was organised by the Students Union. The support acts (that I remember very little of) were the UKs very own Comsat Angels, and from the US, Wall of Voodoo. The singer in Wall of Voodoo was a guy named Stan Ridgeway who had a minor hit with a song called Camouflage a few years later (which I somewhat dig). After the entree came the main course, and by crikey did they kick ass. The Maxwell Hall had a basement so the floor wasn't solid, and all night you could feel it bounce as Bono and the lads took us through their repertoire. It was exciting, Bono engaged with the audience exhorting us to jump and bounce. The venue was small (capacity of 1200) and we were packed in.
I have this weird psychological thing about bands that I like them when they're small, and can turn my back on them when they hit the big time. I kind of like the Barenaked Ladies because they're great but never seem to have hit the Arena-time audiences that, say, U2 have. I turned against U2 in the late 80's and get rather sniffy about them playing to huge audiences around the world. I wouldn't pay to see them in an arena, but would if they played the Maxwell hall again. Setting my subsequent (slightly weird) dislike of them, this was a belting gig.
Not Salford.
--
I've talked about the Young Marble Giants gig in a previous blog. A quiet, unassuming trio from South Wales playing at Rafters. Capacity 700 with a low ceiling, this was an ideal venue. We sat enthralled while they played their album, and then while they played some of it over as they had no encore.
--
In the late 1970's we moved from Manchester to the commuter town of Wilmslow. The family next door had four (?) children, and I became friends with one son who was about my age. Much to my delight, it turned out that his older sister was working behind the bar at the Apollo.
The Ardwick Apollo was opened in 1938 by Margaret Lockwood as a multi-purpose cinema and variety theatre. It stopped showing films on the 1970s and was probably the largest venue in Manchester at the time (places like MEN Arena and G-Mex hadn't opened) and still has concerts on today. During a short period she managed to get us access to The Two Tone Tour, Buzzcocks (supported by Joy Division), Concert 3 (I can't remember offhand who that was), and The Jam.
The Jam was another concert that I hadn't sought out and bought tickets for, but was very very pleased when we scooted on the bus to see it. The concert was in support of their Setting Sons album so would have been late 79, early 80. Although he'd (Paul Weller) never do it, I would pay good money to see the Jam play live again. It's hard to imagine how three blokes (guitar/bass/drums) could play so loud. Because we didn't have proper tickets, once in the Apollo we had to stick to the circle. I can attest to the engineering that must have gone into the construction of the Ardwick Apollo circle as the entire upstairs audience bounced and jumped and shouted. Rammed to the gunwales, a really tight, top musical band at the top of their game.
--
The Factory. Pic by Kevin Cummins
The final on my list was at the Factory in Hulme. This was the venue opened and run by Tony Wilson in the late 70's. The building already had a name - The Russell Club - and Wilson and his mates used the venue to host various 'new wave' acts. It was in an area which to softy middle class boys like me, was very scary, although to be fair I never saw anything that supported that theory. Sure, you'd be accosted by scrotes asking to lend 10p, but nothing wildly violent. Then again, I didn't go that much. It was a small venue with a capacity of about 800.
In a previous blog I talked about going to a record shop in Stockport to buy a Nick Lowe LP. Well that same shop was where I bought "B-52s" by the B-52s (including a free single) in 1979.
It was well different to the sort of thing I'd bought before. Guitar/drums and three singers (Cindy, Fred and Kate) who various filled in on keyboards, bass, cowbells and toy telephone. They were from Athens, GA, and had a kitchy aesthetic. Very danceable. Silly.
On 28th July 1979, the B-52's played the Factory and I was there. The place was heaving, the band played their music, we danced, we sang, we cheered, and I have a very strong memory of moisture running down the walls. It was epic. At the end of the gig, and as the audience cleared, I asked one of the roadies if I might have a drumstick as a souvenir. That's how I have one of Keith Stickland's drumsticks in my office at home.
There is something quite nerdy about being able to say your saw a big band when they were still wee. If that's the case then the U2 one would win hands down, but actually I favour this B-52s gig and, if pushed, would plump for it as my best all time. Early performance by a band still doing it 37 years later, great performance, full and fully engaged audience, legendary venue.
---
Some other memories of gigs.
Walking through lakes of urine in the mens toilets at the Mayflower Club in Manchester while at the same time being scared, as the band - Mo-Dettes - were rumoured to have a skinhead following.
Getting backstage at the OMD gig and being given a badge by one of the band and discussing the sleeve design of Electricity, their first single.
The fuse blowing during the Selector set at the Two Tone tour and them trying to perform accapella versions of their songs while they waited for a fix
The Stranglers gig at the Apollo, where they had strippers come on and dance when they performed Nice and Sleazy, and the gig ending early when some audience members climbed on the PA stack and it fell over.
The Cure gig, at which there were no bands to support the main act, but instead a couple of animated films, only one I still remember, called Ubu Roi. Nice and arty.
Slim Gaillard, a jazz musician who I saw at the Band on the Wall. I ended up standing next to him in the gents having a wee, and lurked outside to get a pic when he came out. I took my camera to this gig, with a flash, and when I took the first shot, he stopped playing (aaaaaaaagh), came over to where we were sitting and posed. Later on during the gig he kept asking, "Where's my friend the photographer?".
Julian Cope was the lead singer and bass player with Teardrop Explodes and was famous for being a little eccentric. The band came out, and I noticed a tall wooden stool on the stage. On the stool was a bowl, and in the bowl were some wet leaves of lettuce. During the gig, Cope would take a leaf of lettuce, shake the water off it and toss it gently into the crowd.
Do you remember Gordon the Moron (from Jilted John)? There was a bloke called Gordon the Moron and he bummed a cigarette from me in exchange for him showing me the naked lady painted on the lining of his tie.
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