Tag: Shopping

It’s Spooky How Fast The Days Go

Since the start of September, it has seemed like I’m getting more into the swing of writing again. The Saturday sessions of the Crawley Creative Writing Group have started up again, so that’s happening twice a month. There have been regular sessions on different themes, I mentioned the Mass Observation one last time, but also prompts led sessions and just open writing slots. There was one on Wednesday night where there were four prompts crammed into an hour, and although five or ten minutes isn’t a long time to get writing, it does give me the chance to get something started, and I’ve been quite disciplined in carrying those pieces on.

It’s also amazing what you see going by the pop up shop the sessions are held in. Wednesday night’s special was someone doing a long, loud, wheelie on a trails bike, with no helmet, looking almost as if he was floating by, making it look effortless. Quickly followed by a kid on a bicycle trying the same thing only to be defeated by the steepness of the slope and coming off.

Thursday night I was performing. Well, reading some of my own work out. I have been doing some writing sessions with the charity Writing Our Legacy, as they are running a project called No Place Like Home. The initial Zoom sessions had been at the start of the year, and there had been certain themes we had been asked to write about from childhood memories (a room in your childhood home, food, school days, events). What the group had submitted is being pulled together to be printed in a book, and Thursday’s session was to have been the book launch, but the book isn’t complete yet, but the readings went ahead.

Five of us were performing, each had one piece from what we had submitted to the project, four of us had another piece of our own writing not linked to the project, and three of us were also reading out extracts from oral history interviews, where a number of (older) people had been interviewed about their childhoods and how they came to be in Crawley. There were twelve pieces in total, and I was someone who was performing three pieces.

There had been three sessions with a performance coach to help us with how “to land” the readings. How to pace the readings correctly, where to leave pauses for impact. Useful stuff for me as I tend to try and read out loud at the same speed I would read a book, making it almost incomprehensible to most.

The event was being held at Crawley Museum, and it was a small friends and family type audience, with only thirty people. A nice friendly atmosphere to ease us in. Diverse Crawley had some people there and they had cooked the most amazing Caribbean food for us all to have during the interval.

There will be other nights. When the book is finished and published then there will likely be a bigger session, and it will probably be linked to Wordfest 2022; where we should be able to also do the attitudes to Crawley staged readings, we were due to do in 2020 before the very first lockdown put paid to that. The book will also be the first time I’ve actually been in print, which I’m quite excited about. (I know; me and excited in the same sentence, who would have thought that.)

Friday we were out and about again, stopping to get fuel and shopping at Tesco at Broadbridge Heath. We had done it before, but we both said the same thing after getting back to the car this time. The store seems to attract a special type of moron, and that we would never shop there again. Hopefully, we’ll stick to it this time.

We picked Helen’s mum up and headed to Shoreham for lunch. Very nice Italian food, but after that, a quick nip into charity shops, a visit to Dunhelm, and then The Range; by the time we got home it was dark and were left wondering what the hell happened to the day.

Saturday saw more writing in the morning, and then Crawley Town’s latest horror show in the afternoon (more of which can be read about at the link below).

Shooting Ourselves In The Foot

The new routine of post-match curry at the Downsman followed, which is always a good antidote to the sinking feeling acquired at the game. Plus, the clocks went back, so there was an extra hour of weekend inserted before going back to that other horror show – work.

And then it was Halloween, how the hell did it get to be the end of October already? It was a reasonably busy day. Putting a new curtain rail and curtains up in the office and assembling the tiny bedside table we’d got from Dunhelm. Pumpkins were being carved in the kitchen, and treats sorted out for any kids brave enough to risk the ever-changing weather, the legacy of the Tesco part of Friday.

Meanwhile, I’m staying away from most things Halloween and writing this and getting ready for the NFL games this evening. The 49ers are playing the Bears today, and I thought about what might happen if I changed one letter of the Bears?

A loss – Tears

A win – Beers

A windy day – Beans

Hip Hop playing – Beats

Cos it’s Halloween – Fears

Things get a bit fruity – Pears

A bit sweaty – Beads

Lots of costume changes – Wears

A lot of noise – Hears

Blistering heat – Sears

Old ladies in the crowd – Dears

A few whiskeys – Beams

Hairs on the chin – Beard

Wild pigs – Boars

A bird infestation – Beaks

Lots of boyfriends – Beaus

It goes on forever – Years

Bicycles everywhere – Gears

A load of arses – Rears

A woodsman called Ray – Mears

Yes, I know, I should get out more, but as can be seen, I am trying to.

Who Are You Calling An Antique?

Whereas Helen and I had done haircuts on Monday, Wednesday morning was my mum’s turn. I dropped her off and had a little wander around Poulton, the old Morecambe before it was even Morecambe.

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The old Holy Trinity church is in the middle, with its old graveyard and neighbouring cemetery. Less than a hundred yards behind Holy Trinity is the Roman Catholic Church of St. Mary’s, which dated from the nineteenth century is an old church building for a Roman Catholic Church in this country. From there I could see another old brick tower and so went to investigate. Only to find it was just a brick tower in the middle of a municipal car park. Supposedly it was used by firemen to practise in. I’m not sure how much time they would have had to practise though, as this is Morecambe, fire central UK.

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I walked back towards the sea front and past Morecambe Town Hall, with its well laid out sunken gardens and grand looking frontage. As I walked past it on the way up to an old stone archway back into the cemetery, I could see the side and back of the Town Hall. They must have spent all the money on the frontage, as the rest of the building is very functional.

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The cemetery isn’t large but does have various interesting elements. There are two wooden carvings at the far end, very much in an oriental style. There is a variety of grand headstones and monuments throughout. Though it does look as if they had a job lot of tall columns with a half covered urn on top. A style I hadn’t really seen anywhere else before, but there were half a dozen of them in this small cemetery.

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After the haircut was done we picked Helen up and headed into Lancaster. M&S and Primark for pick-ups and exchanges, before heading up to Williamson Park and the Ashton Memorial. The memorial itself wasn’t open, but the café was, and we had lunch with a great view of Morecambe bay in the distance.

When you get told that there is an antiques centre that is huge, you assume it’s mainly hyperbole. But the GB Antiques centre isn’t exaggerating about being the largest one in the country. There is no such thing as a quick look around there. Over two hours flew by and the staff were shepherding us to the doors at closing time, without us having managed to walk around the whole thing before they started to turn lights off. We did manage to pick up a few nice items, and it is worth bearing in mind about bringing a picnic if we visit again.

With it being tea time it was time to find somewhere to have food. As has happened on a few visits to my mum’s, we ended up in The Royal in Heysham village. The last time we had been here there had been a somewhat brusque Italian guy serving. He was still there. He was still brusque, not even letting us sit down before demanding our drinks order, and saying there was no drinks menu, as it wasn’t allowed. Only for him to bring a food menu later. It’s difficult not to laugh, especially as he seemed to be wearing trousers cast off by Rupert the Bear.

Food was good, but the rain had descended by the time we were heading out to go home; thankfully after we’d done the day’s activities. All that was left to do was to plan where to go tomorrow.