tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71598898629153101742024-03-14T08:05:30.683+00:00I am what I am!An on-line blog of ramblings!Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger27125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159889862915310174.post-6945204126651605762014-08-11T01:27:00.000+01:002014-08-11T01:27:06.171+01:00Long time no writeHello Pals,<br />
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It's been a while since I last wrote something and to be honest, it has been a combination of 'I couldn't be arsed' and 'life circumstances' which has kept me away from you.<br />
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I always think it's better to not say anything at all if you have nothing interesting to say and if you do want to say something, you're best not doing it in an open forum when you're feeling fed up as you don't want to share the misery.<br />
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I can honestly say that 2012/13/14 so far have been of very mixed fortune and more bad than good. It has been mainly down to a health problem that I 'inherited' from my Mum and that has seen me get from bad to worse to rock bottom and now I'm slowly climbing back up again, but it's a long haul and I am finding each day a challenge.<br />
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So, what I hope to do is to write more often and try to be entertaining, thought-provoking and interesting. If I fail one any of these things, you have my permission to delete me from your list of bloggers!<br />
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Speak soon,<br />
<br /><br />
Ali xxxUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159889862915310174.post-42258934207503823732013-02-25T17:15:00.003+00:002013-02-25T17:38:35.469+00:00My night with the stars!!!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWMWYlOr3mvH_gX7b0vNnkyp5QcPrNvomsn0awK706fvmePITVd9xnhHj5OKXxHe_A0_56NuF8vfteL5S5sWZvo41bEmL6NLjXX42W_5y4Dxjb7K7T1AkgRcnTMNG9e4gmxIiBNyKE07tr/s1600/Sleeping+Ali.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWMWYlOr3mvH_gX7b0vNnkyp5QcPrNvomsn0awK706fvmePITVd9xnhHj5OKXxHe_A0_56NuF8vfteL5S5sWZvo41bEmL6NLjXX42W_5y4Dxjb7K7T1AkgRcnTMNG9e4gmxIiBNyKE07tr/s320/Sleeping+Ali.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Me getting some much-needed kip</div>
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<b><i>Note: I am a weekend presenter on www.radiox.eu in Belgium and last night I was tweeting live from the Oscars!!!</i></b></div>
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At the time of writing this, to be honest I couldn’t tell
you what time it is as I haven’t slept since Saturday night, so in a way the
power cut that took Radio X off air on Sunday was a bit of a blessing as I
could cat nap during what should have been my show!<o:p></o:p></div>
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If the show had gone ahead – you would have listened to my
Oscar predictions and I’m proud to say, apart from one, I was spot on with all
my predictions. The only one I got wrong was saying that Steven Spielberg would
get best director, when in fact; it went to Ang Lee for ‘Life of Pi’<o:p></o:p></div>
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I have always been a fan of the Oscars – I love movies. I
love going to the movies, I get obsessed by some movies and I love to read
about the movie stars, so being Radio X’s ‘reporter on the spot’ for the night
and tweeting the goings-on made me feel even more of a part of it.<o:p></o:p></div>
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OK, I wasn’t on the red carpet (ours is a sort of mucky
brown) but sharing the action with you all was a thrill for me. I even had a
tweet after the show from a Radio X listener in LA who said that they hadn’t
got a TV and couldn’t watch what was going on, so was thrilled with my updates!
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If I had to sum up the 85<sup>th</sup> Academy Awards in one
word, it would be ‘slick’ – everything seemed to go according to plan (apart from
poor Jennifer Lawrence who went splat as she climbed the stairs to collect her
best actress Oscar) but that aside, I thought the night was a jolly good show.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Seth McFarlane as host was a bit of an unknown quantity for
me. I know he’s the man behind ‘Family Guy’ and the film ‘Ted’ but that was it.
He was a good-ish host, some of his jokes got a few groans of disbelief from
the audience, but his interaction with Captain Kirk from the future and a song
about ‘boobs’ seemed to go down well with the star-studded crowd.<o:p></o:p></div>
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It was a night to feel proud to be British as well. Some
Brits who took an active role in the show included Daniel Radcliffe doing a
song and dance number, Samantha Barks (the lass from the Isle of Man who played
Eponine in Les Mis) who took part in the Les Mis number, Adele, who won the
Oscar for best original song for ‘Skyfall’ or ‘Skeeeefaaaawl’ as I sing it and
the best Brit proud moment of the night was seeing Dame Shirley Bassey getting
a standing ovation for singing ‘Goldfinger’ as part of the tribute to the Bond
films.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Before the show, I was tweeting about the various outfits
that the ladies were wearing and it was the long gown worn by Jennifer Lawrence
that resulted in her tripping up the stairs. As an eagle-eyed viewer, I spotted
the lovely and extremely talented Hugh Jackman, run from his seat to offer her
assistance, but she managed to get to her feet before he got to her (what a
guy).<o:p></o:p></div>
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The main Oscar winners went the way I predicted: Best Film
was Argo, Best original screenplay was for Tarantino’s Django Unchained,
Actress in a supporting role went to Anne Hathaway for Les Mis (I was really
thrilled as she was superb and I’ve seen the film 4 times now) Christoph Waltz
picked up his second Oscar for actor in a supporting role in Django Unchained,
Ang Lee won Best Director, Jennifer Lawrence was best actress for ‘Silver
Linings Playbook’ and of course, the one that definitely was the most predicted
Oscar win of all time, was for Daniel Day-Lewis for his excellent portrayal as
President Lincoln in the Spielberg film ‘Lincoln’ – it was for a pop at Lincoln
that Seth McFarlane got a bit of a jeer from the crowd when he said Daniel
Day-Lewis wasn’t the first person to get inside the head of President Lincoln –
John Wilkes Booth got there first !!<o:p></o:p></div>
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There were treats galore when it came to musical numbers,
Adele gave a live performance of Skyfall, Catherine Zeta-Jones recreated her
role from Chicago and did the song ‘All That Jazz’, there was, of course, the
Les Mis cast doing a mash-up of Les Mis songs (I thought it was a tad ropey in
places) but none the less an excellent show of talent – even Russell Crowe
stepped up to the mark and held his notes!! – Charlize Theron amazed everyone
with her dance routine, Jennifer Hudson sang a song from Dreamgirls (it was ok,
but she wailed a bit too much and scared my cats away with the high notes) but
apart from Dame Shirley, the other musical high spot of the night was seeing
Barbra Streisand sing ‘The Way We Were’ as a tribute to composer Marvin
Hamlisch who has died and was featured in the ‘In Memorium’ bit, which always
brings a tear to my eye.</div>
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On the whole, I thought the night was excellent and what
made it even better was that there was not one film that dominated – there was
a good spread of Oscar love on the night with all the main films getting at
least one award – the biggest winner was Life of Pi with four Oscars.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I really enjoyed ‘being there for you’ last night and am
flagging a little bit so I definitely think I’ll sleep tonight.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Oscar didn’t disappoint and now I really feel I should catch
the films I didn’t get the chance to see before the big night, like best
picture in a foreign language, ‘Amour’ and I haven’t yet seen ‘Lincoln’ as I
have heard mixed reviews and at three and a half hours (including the
ridiculous amount of ads before the film) it’s a tad too long for me without a
tune to hum or a barricade to cling to.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Thanks for your company if you did follow my Tweets last
night. I think I should at least try and get a bit of shut eye and I will no
doubt mention the Oscars on my shows at the weekend (that’s if I don’t get my
power cut off again!) <o:p></o:p></div>
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Oh, by the way. If you’re wondering why I didn’t include
Daniel Day-Lewis in the line-up of successful Brits, it is because he prefers
to be known as an ‘Irish’ actor – but we’re still proud of you, Daniel!<o:p></o:p></div>
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Bye for now.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Ali B<o:p></o:p></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159889862915310174.post-30267700985754666482013-01-22T16:55:00.000+00:002013-01-22T16:55:18.091+00:00And your point is?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD4FwGsbc5l9fxAtf1_fqhqS1I-Xk4UL3L9HKCtXKdkkUIjRVCSl3zmhpMvb_7ORaEHJ20N3xJb3M5vrJHlQA8Rh4SvrVieUIg_1yjlvK0j0YCIbY_4q11yPtvpbBDS8GdMVyGTfcwNg4w/s1600/cat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD4FwGsbc5l9fxAtf1_fqhqS1I-Xk4UL3L9HKCtXKdkkUIjRVCSl3zmhpMvb_7ORaEHJ20N3xJb3M5vrJHlQA8Rh4SvrVieUIg_1yjlvK0j0YCIbY_4q11yPtvpbBDS8GdMVyGTfcwNg4w/s320/cat.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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There are some days when I feel like this and when I saw this image on the web, I just had to share it. The expression on the cat's face says it all, he looks totally and utterly peed off and someone is obviously bothering him.<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159889862915310174.post-2983591505847835762013-01-22T16:54:00.001+00:002013-01-22T16:54:19.871+00:00Long time no write<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitaJH503xyO7ObSrjKnNOZB2IRNPaHLvxVNU9qPzyUGCpznQfNs_477TRoqLyeVK3qsbf_mWsnmuMM3C2uCs5aGTIFbnn6KbZk7QhNUJAYjZ2m1g8Ro_uREuqsPOfXGtaUpLxnUwjCHiUg/s1600/IMG04095-20130118-1419.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitaJH503xyO7ObSrjKnNOZB2IRNPaHLvxVNU9qPzyUGCpznQfNs_477TRoqLyeVK3qsbf_mWsnmuMM3C2uCs5aGTIFbnn6KbZk7QhNUJAYjZ2m1g8Ro_uREuqsPOfXGtaUpLxnUwjCHiUg/s320/IMG04095-20130118-1419.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
It has been quite a while since I last wrote something and that's because I have been quite busy. Since I last wrote at length, I am now self-employed and although the work is not as regular as I had hoped, it does give me the freedom to pick and choose projects to work on.<div>
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I really needed a break from the norm and it was a big leap of faith for me to go it alone. I've not been working for an organisation now for over a year and although I am making a living, I do miss being around people, so I may opt to go back to work again but the right thing needs to pop up to get me interested - I'm way to young to retire and I've got such a lot more that I want to do before I shuffle off this mortal coil!</div>
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As you can see from the picture of our garden, we've had some snow. Today was the first time I had ventured out of the house since Saturday and I had to dig my car out of the drive in order to go out this morning to go to the docs to collect my prescription. The roads were very icy and I'm not the most confident of drivers, so I took it easy and was very cautious.</div>
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I went to the chemist and because of the snow, I couldn't see the parking bays and ended up guessing where they were by just lining up alongside the cars already parked- how was I to know that I'd parked on the path! Oh well.</div>
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I did several other chores before I noticed that the temperature had started to dip and so I decided to go back into the warm and there is where I stayed and will continue to stay until the snow goes. In short, I'm just a wimp. In fact, I really should be in hibernation.</div>
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Tomorrow, I'm going to be updating my CV and because of the amount of time I have spent in the house these past few days, I can now add another skill to my attributes - I have a lot of pointless knowledge in my head - Thanks to the show of the same name, I have realised that I have a lot of obscure knowledge that could come in useful when used in the right circumstances.</div>
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Onwards and upwards.<br /><br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159889862915310174.post-17289407816910898482012-08-18T21:43:00.002+01:002012-08-18T21:43:42.739+01:00Winnie Johnson - a fighter to the end<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was only one year old when Keith Bennett was murdered by Myra Hindley and Ian Brady but the Moors murders were something that I grew up hearing about, mainly because they shocked a nation and for as long as those two evil people were alive and in prison, they were always going to be in the news when it came to the anniversary of the murders.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">One woman I grew up respecting and feeling totally sorry for, was Winnie Johnson, the mother of Keith Bennett.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">For as long as I can remember, she has been a constant reminder of the devastating effect of losing a child in such horrific cirsumstances can have on someone.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">It was bad enough that Winnie had to endure the pain of losing her young son, but unlike the parents of the other children who were murdered, Winnie did not get the clousure that she desperately needed in finding where her son had been buried on the Moors and no amount of pleas or letters from her to Ian Brady and Myra Hindley gave her the news she wanted.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Her death came a day after the latest news that Ian Brady may have written in a letter 'to be opened after his death' that finally would have given Winnie the news she waited nearly 50 years to hear.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Or, as I suspect, was it just another sick ploy for Brady to get himself in the news again?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Whatever the outcome of the speculative letter is, it did not come in time for Winnie to get her dying wish.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Unless you have lost a child in the way that Winnie lost hers, you can not imagine what the last half decade has been like for her. I just know that I wished she had got the news she longed for before she passed away.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I doubt Keith Bennett's body will ever be found. Saddleworth Moor would have changed drastically over the years and Brady's memory, no matter how long he's had time to think about it in prison, will not be up to pin-pointing the final resting place of this little lad, whose cheeky grin, podgy face and round glasses is the image we all have of him.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Whatever your beliefs, I'd like to think that Winnie is now reunited with her son and her long journey to find him is now at an end.</span><br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159889862915310174.post-14636669051057179572011-10-02T12:21:00.002+01:002011-10-02T12:43:14.010+01:00October already?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNSXAwr9lupqnGDK0Ph1VtSe_cT9ihDAs_ZxlqMOzETfflzB4VlSHEUWTzM5m8nLxN1zVpttgFuJ2sLTbtrOFi5EFKust8sRDVcrol_JPsGnmujhdd-2-DohtScj7JiaCE_6AJp6fdFAgy/s1600/IMG02694-20111001-1743.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658853640672172482" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNSXAwr9lupqnGDK0Ph1VtSe_cT9ihDAs_ZxlqMOzETfflzB4VlSHEUWTzM5m8nLxN1zVpttgFuJ2sLTbtrOFi5EFKust8sRDVcrol_JPsGnmujhdd-2-DohtScj7JiaCE_6AJp6fdFAgy/s320/IMG02694-20111001-1743.jpg" /></a> Believe it or not, this photograph in the sunshine was taken at 5ish yesterday while I was at the local fun fair.<br /><br />Hubby and I went along because I'd been pestering him all week that I wanted to go and although we didn't stay long, we were there long enough to have the obligatory burger and for me to have a go on the grabber machines and a go on either the darts or the hook a duck (I went for the darts because at least there is some tiny bit of skill involved)<br /><br /><br />The grabber machines were a bit of a rip-off, in fact a lot of a rip-off. Normally, you put your pound in the slot and you get five goes for a pound, but at this fair, you only got one go for a pound - which was not very good.<br /><br />So, I made my way to the darts and started talking to the stall holder about the unseasonal weather.<br /><br />"We were here this time last year," she said, "and we were knee deep in mud but it's typical that it is like this at the end of our season."<br /><br />While I was paying for the darts, she was telling me that she lived in Nuneaton, her next fair was at Kings Norton and then she had one at bonfire night.<br /><br />So, chit chat was over and I was eyeing up what needed to be done in order to win a prize. For £2.50, I had 2 goes, that is 2 x 4 darts and with each dart in the set of four, I had to get an over 10 score.<br /><br />My first dart scored 10, my second, a double 8, my third, a 20 and my fourth, 19 - I HAD WON!!!! She gave me the choice of which bear I wanted and I chose the one you see my holding in the photo.<br /><br />Right, now I had the taste of victory, I wanted more.<br /><br />I eyed up the darts again, just like Kevin Costner eyed up his target with his bow and arrow in Robin Hood Prince of Thieves, the first dart - pinged out. The second dart scored 5, the third dart pinged out and hit one of the bigger bears on the head and the fourth dart, pinged out and went out of the stall and on to the gravel, barely missing the stall holder's husband!<br /><br />OK, so I wasn't going to win again. Hubby said that he couldn't believe I could do so well with one set and so rubbish with another. I told him that I was just like his favourite football team, INCONSISTENT!<br /><br />We walked around the fair and then decided to go for a meal. However, I didn't fancy taking the toy with me so I decided I would give it away to a little person and came across this little blonde girl who was walking around fair with her Mother.<br /><br />"Excuse me but I've won this on a stall and don't want it and wondered if your little girl would like it?"<br /><br />The lady looked at me with a big smile and said thank you and looked at her little girl and said "look what the nice lady has given you, what do you say?"<br /><br />The little girl held out her arms for the cuddly toy and with a big grin, said in a shy voice "Fank you" - it made my day because she clutched it so tight towards her body and gave it a hug.<br /><br />I felt good all night after that.<br /><br />We had a lovely meal, went home and then watched the telly.<br /><br />And that was my Saturday.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159889862915310174.post-20644109450262667412011-08-24T23:58:00.000+01:002011-08-24T23:58:41.718+01:00Magical memories in a photo box<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisrBVxxXqARU6MdwF2ldM9xYH3foKYeRGjqHHdX33Iw7AWFb2eHXJmxURLBQMOaacVEP5XgbvmM9FBqEjxQaxk0PciMC-X-o1q510RtdN1qwH3zMfk2c2zg1C-nyGHNNESzRmmiO0DAO8o/s1600/sam4.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 229px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5644381596803134594" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisrBVxxXqARU6MdwF2ldM9xYH3foKYeRGjqHHdX33Iw7AWFb2eHXJmxURLBQMOaacVEP5XgbvmM9FBqEjxQaxk0PciMC-X-o1q510RtdN1qwH3zMfk2c2zg1C-nyGHNNESzRmmiO0DAO8o/s320/sam4.jpg" /></a>
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<br /><div>I had a bit of a disaster at work this morning. I got in at my usual time (7.30am) and because I had not got the right key to open the grill, I set all the alarms off!
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<br />It was really embarrassing because I was the only one around, so there was no-one to let me in or switch off the noise. The thing is, with it being so early; I had to wait for about 25 minutes before someone came in to help me.
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<br />Because I had a couple of days off, I was anxious to get an early start, so being so far behind with my normal morning routine was not good at all.
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<br />I was a tad grumpy to one of my colleagues on the phone who had supplied me with the rogue key and once I was back at my desk, I was ok.
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<br />I went to the doctors yesterday to see her about my trip to A & E and she was really nice and kind to me and told me everything I needed to know about my newly acquired gallstone! She told me what I needed to do in order to manage the pain, stop it from coming back and ordered a scan for me to go to the hospital to check if there are any more there.
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<br />As I do NOT want to go through that sort of pain again, there is no way that I am going to risk it so I will have to put up with the blandest food going – which is going to be hard as it is hubby’s 50th Birthday at the weekend and he’s having a BBQ and I LOVE BBQ’s – wrong, I used to love BBQs!
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<br />Bushy had been busy sorting out the loft since we had a new floor put in it and he bought down all sorts of boxes which had lots of things in them that I had lost or forgotten about.
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<br />One of the things I was pleased to find was a box of photos that had lots of memories in them – some of my mate Sam Plank when he was doing a live OB about the cleaning of the Town Hall steps with a toothbrush – a task that the then afternoon programme presenter, Grant Leighton had said that he would do if a certain record went to the number one spot!
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<br />It was so funny and the photos bought it all back as if it was yesterday - see photos above. There is also another one of me on stage with Sam during one of our many performances together - such fun.
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<br />I found so much in the loft that sent me on a bit of a nostalgia trip. For instance, I found a box of stuff that related to my Mum’s death: order of service cards, letters of condolence from friends and cards, the cassette of the music that was played on the day etc and it all made me very sad.
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<br />I found a letter that my Aunty June wrote to me, which made me sob and I rang her and sobbed down the phone to her!
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<br />In another box, there were photos of my Dad’s funeral and rare family photos of the three of us together (my brother, my sister and me) and some photos of an old flame and me (those promptly went to the dumper!!!!)
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<br />It is amazing what crap you keep and what things you think will come back into fashion one day. I haven’t been through everything and I am sure there will be lots more chucking out to do before the year is out.
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<br />One of the things I would like to do is to listen to some of the old cassette tapes I found of past radio programmes – I am sure there are many memories on there waiting to be re-lived!
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<br />Work today was fun but also a bit of a groundhog day experience because so many people came up to me to ask me how I was feeling and what it was I had got and after my trip to the docs tomorrow, I know that I am going to have to buck up my ideas if I want to remain pain free. </div></div>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159889862915310174.post-33274388010529575352011-02-11T22:32:00.003+00:002011-02-11T22:44:28.049+00:00Sam Plank loses battle<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ8u5s6LurxgXZyoiGXYVtLVqhi1q1zY35uUyU9ifCH5xE3F0bllqVSg5fPj_tHVGJvCp7gBfPZ00Bw5F1Xo5Scs58aznLlWNacEHtsPoPLMX5McvRKy6SrwoIPznLtlBVhY7V6YQWYbgO/s1600/sam.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 213px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572564024384586866" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ8u5s6LurxgXZyoiGXYVtLVqhi1q1zY35uUyU9ifCH5xE3F0bllqVSg5fPj_tHVGJvCp7gBfPZ00Bw5F1Xo5Scs58aznLlWNacEHtsPoPLMX5McvRKy6SrwoIPznLtlBVhY7V6YQWYbgO/s320/sam.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div>I couldn't write anything as I'm so upset and crying even as I'm typing this. I will leave it to Verity Hilton, a dear friend and the wife of a man about whom the word 'legend' is apt.<br /><br />Moorlands Radio mid morning presenter Sam Plank has lost his battle with cancer. The former Focal Radio, BBC Radio Stoke and Signal 2 presenter overcame throat cancer in 2008 but was told secondary cancer had returned in September last year.<br /><br /></div><div>He died at home at ten past nine on Thursday evening in the loving care of his wife and family.<br /><br /></div><div>As well as hosting the City fireworks display and also Tunstall lights switch on in November, Sam’s last official engagement off the radio was raising money for Blythe Bridge Rotary at their annual race night. Over the years Sam has been heavily involved with the local lions clubs and rotary organisations..being one of a few non rotarians honoured with a Paul Harris fellowship award for his work in the community back in 2000.<br /><br /></div><div>Sam has received many awards including the Queen Mothers award for the media and a prestigious Sony award for local radio personality of the year.. He was also presented with Chat magazines most favourite radio presenter thanks to the enormous amount of listeners who tuned into his mid morning show on BBC Radio Stoke. At the height of Radio Stoke’s listenership 1 in 3 people who tuned into a radio in the area listened to Sam Plank.<br /><br /></div><div>Sam has always been synonymous with the City of Stoke on Trent, having led the Parks and Recreations team at the City Council as Terry Hilton.<br /><br /></div><div>He left school to go to work at Borthwicks and Wrists before moving to Steel and Cowlieshaw where he was a times and motions man. He joined the City Council as a planner to put in their bonus system and was recognised by one of three mentors in his life Bill Jackson who asked him to take over the Children’s play side of things. Sam said "Bill saw more in me than I did".<br /><br /></div><div></div><div>The other two people who had a similar effect on Sam’s life were his school teacher Arthur Wood, at Brookhouse Green, who said Sam could pass his 11 plus even though more intelligent kids in the class would fail. Sam was to later work with Arthur when he joined BBC Radio Stoke as Arthur was education producer at the time. The other mentor in his life was John Collard, his former Station Manager at BBC Radio Stoke who in Sam’s eyes was the only one who had a true belief in what local radio is all about – putting a foot in its community and keeping it there.</div><div></div><div><br /><br />Together they raised money for BBC Radio Stoke’s RASCAL appeal – the first year raising the money in a weekend to keep Moorlands lass Emma Chell alive – her grandfather had pleaded for the stations help as her body switched off at night and she needed a machine to keep her alive and wake her up.<br /><br /></div><div>It was through his work at the council, trying to get publicity for the City’s bonfire or a local circus coming to one of the towns that his ability was recognised by engineer Simon Penfold and Sam started to present the Saturday Morning show when Bruno Brookes left to go to Radio 1. It was herein 1984 that he first met his second wife Verity who had started at BBC Radio Stoke 3 years earlier.<br /><br /></div><div>Sam continued with the show for four years and in 1988 at the age of 40 gave up his work at the council to take over the mid morning weekday show on BBC Radio Stoke.<br /><br /></div><div>At this time he was given the freedom of the City of Stoke on Trent by the then Lord Mayor Stan Bates – he later was awarded the ability to graze his sheep on a village green in Cheshire as well as an honorary citizen of East Liverpool Ohio and a Kentucky Colonel when he travelled with the radio station to Ohio to cover the bi-centeneray of people leaving Longport Wharf to settle over there for work – a journey he made in 1998 with Verity as his producer and engineer Kyle Evans from BBC Radio Stoke who is now head of presentation at GMG Radio.<br /><br /></div><div>Sam and Verity were asked to join Signal 2 in 2001 to add a local feel to their then regional output on the station. He thoroughly enjoyed his time at the station, and had recently renewed his working partnership with presenter Doug Wood when he joined Sam and the team at Moorlands Radio last year – the Wood n Plank brand was reunited.<br /><br /></div><div>Througout his work at the council and also at the radio stations he has made many friends, from the listeners who have followed his career to the youngsters with disability who he used to take swimming at Tunstall pool. One young lad wouldn’t get in the pool without Sam going in with him – and he still comes up and gives him a cuddle in the street now.<br /><br /></div><div>These listeners and friends, followed him to Focal Radio when it was launched in 2008 but it was short lived and Sam paid a lot of the staffs wages when it went into liquidation for a second time in May 2009.<br /><br /></div><div>Sam’s wife, Verity Hilton, worked with Sam for the majority of his time in Radio, and is currently the Station Manager of Moorlands Radio 103.7fm where he presented his last show in the middle of December. She paid tribute to her husband… <br /><br />"I am so proud of the way Sam has had the courage to battle this illness, never moaning or complaining or asking why me – even though many of us around him asked that question. It has been a tribute to the man he is that so many people of all walks of life have called to see him or spoken to him over the past few days and weeks. Sam was passionate about the area he lived and the people in it, giving them every opportunity to be positive and giving them the ability to make things happen. </div><div></div><div><br /><br />As well as family, close friends and colleagues he has been in deep conversation with MP’s, Business people and Football Chairmen who have all had to sit on his throne (or commode) by his bed.<br /><br /></div><div>Chairman for Moorlands Radio where Sam was continuing to sell airtime for the station until last week is Tony Mullins – he paid this tribute…<br /><br /></div><div>"I grew up listening to Sam on the BBC, he was one of my radio heros. When I got to work with Sam at Focal Radio in Stoke and here at Moorlands Radio it was a dream come true. Off the air Sam was just the same as his on air personality; a warm, friendly, generous man who had time for everyone. Sam’s passion for radio was infectious; at presenter and team meetings he would help develop our new presenters with advice and training, he always had time for our new recruits, even when they were a little starstruck! <br /><br /></div><div></div><div>I was always impressed at roadshows with the number of his listeners who would come up to Sam for a kiss and a cuddle, people he had never met! They were all friends to him, and that was the key to his success. Sam was truly a larger than life character both on and off the air. Sam worked for Moorlands Radio for over a year, helping to set the station up and doing his daily programme which was one of the most popular on the station, for this, he gave his time and expertise for free. He also looked after the sales at the station for no financial reward, just the will to see us succeed. <br /><br /></div><div></div><div>He was loved by the team at Moorlands Radio. Sam has left a big void in our lives and our thoughts are with Verity and his family."<br /><br /></div><div>Entertainment has always been Sam’s life, from 15 he was a drummer in bands such as the James Stone Pattern and later forming the duo SPARKY with fellow musician Norman Tempest ( MD of Royal Stafford). Not only did they tour around the country but also worked with a lot of the stars as support band at Jollies. Sam became one of the first "shock jocks" at the Vale Club, with he and Norman being resident DJ’s. In the early 80’s he started to concentrate on discos and also family entertainment enabling many to leave their hearts in SAM PLANKS disco! <br /><br /></div><div></div><div>For many years he was also responsible for bringing Santa in to town and many years enabled children to wake him up from his winter sleep at the Quality Hotel in Hanley.<br /><br /></div><div>Sam leaves behind his wife Verity 44, children Andrew, Mark, Thomas, Sophie and Josh and grandchildren Ben and Aimee.<br /><br /></div><div>Back ground information: Terry Hilton 22.05.1948<br /><br /></div><div>The eldest of three children born to Flo and Arthur in Middleport – dance <br />teachers who had their own school at the Odeon in Hanley as well as Stoke.<br /><br /></div><div>He moved to Bentilee with his Mum, Dad, sister Susan and Brother David when the sunshine houses were built in the early 50’s<br /><br /></div><div>Went to school at Middleport, Brookhouse and then Hanley High School.<br /><br /></div><div>An honorary member of the Staffordshire Regimental association raising money for them to go to Bayeux for the anniversary of D Day. He has had many listeners including the Queen when she toured Stoke on Trent with Sir James Hawley – as well as the late Sir Stan who used to call Verity to "tell Planky I am going out now"<br /><br /></div><div>Raised hundreds of thousands of pounds for charities over the years.<br /><br /></div><div>Sam has planned his own funeral in recent days with his wife. … A friend of Sam’s has accepted Sam’s request to take his funeral service - Ashley Cooper from Swan Bank, Burslem. He hopes to have the Veterans of the Staffordshire regimental association to parade him in and has requested his son mark to play for his Dad – a tribute which will be recorded with his eldest son Andrew and the other half of the duo Sparky – Norman as well as other musicians Sam has known for many years.<br /><br /></div><div>I will be there, Sam. Love you . There's a bright star shining in the sky tonight.<br /><br /></div><div></div><div><br /><br />Love,</div><div></div><div><br /><br />Ali</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159889862915310174.post-76965042848402757342010-11-09T21:47:00.007+00:002010-11-09T22:19:31.209+00:00So tired and feeling sad about John 'Abbo' Abberley<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-Ii4W64NJIRxbh1ekWQM4Qe3ZzruEVFFzUonEDyHCfV9OtPuwa7egVQ1XYR9tisI8B4ZwLPohBnHXMZDUl2WegVmKlZA0of_F7ilEFbpEIHwl7ceuSbSt8TcpQ9Fh1OgUAcDJwHwhdWnF/s1600/290237a248b20e5a.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 102px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 102px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537677612666643986" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-Ii4W64NJIRxbh1ekWQM4Qe3ZzruEVFFzUonEDyHCfV9OtPuwa7egVQ1XYR9tisI8B4ZwLPohBnHXMZDUl2WegVmKlZA0of_F7ilEFbpEIHwl7ceuSbSt8TcpQ9Fh1OgUAcDJwHwhdWnF/s320/290237a248b20e5a.jpg" /></a><br /><div>I don't know if it's a combination of the cold weather, the central heating and being excessively busy at work, but I am a mess at the moment.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>My complexion is suffering. One minute it's dry, then it's blotchy, then it's spotty - the list is endless. I know I'm not painting a very pretty picture of myself at the moment, but hey, I can't be perfect all the time.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>My downer in my mood was pushed further into black yesterday when I heard about the death of a former colleague at BBC Radio Stoke. The man in question was a legend. By the time I started there in 1986, he'd already been there nearly 20 years and was coming to the end of his radio career but John 'Abbo' Abberley was someone who touched everyone's lives and carried on doing so up until his death as a columnist on his beloved Stoke Sentinel, where his fledgling career started when he joined as a cub reporter at the tender age of 17.</div><br /><div></div><div> </div><div>He was the kind of person who had his opinions (and not everyone agreed with them) but he put his argument across with conviction and passion. He adored debating, talking politics, sport and issues that affected his hometown. He was one of its fiercest critics but one of its greatest supporters. He believed in the people of Stoke and they believed in him and trusted his judgement.</div><br /><br /><div></div><div>When I first joined the Beeb, he was already someone who was highly regarded in both print and broadcast journalism, so to find myself working alongside him and rubbing shoulders with him on a daily basis was surreal. As a youngster, I used to listen to him on the radio and never thought for one minute that one day I'd be working with him.</div><br /><br /><div></div><div>I remember my Mum being really proud of the fact that the great John Abberley was one of my work colleagues. He was held in very high regard by all who worked with him but to the ordinary man in the street, he was a local hero and I say hero in the true sense of the word.</div><br /><br /><div></div><div>I was very sad when I found out that he'd died because it made me think about the happy times I had in local radio and in my earlier days there, John was such a big part of my working day and was always on hand with some advice, words of wisdom or a throw away remark that would leave you in stitches.</div><br /><div></div><div> </div><div>He was a great story-teller. He could hold the attention of a room and have the audience eating out of the palm of his hand.</div><br /><br /><div></div><div>If I was feeling a bit low before-hand, after hearing about John's passing, I was feeling so very, very sad.</div><br /><br /><div></div><div>It takes something like this to make you realise that our time on this earth is very short and that we should make the most of every opportunity and take each day as it comes.</div><br /><div></div><div> </div><div>One of the stories I tell about John is the fact that he used to act absent minded, but he was as sharp as a tack. If I was to say the phrase, 'Am I On Yet' to anyone who worked at BBC Radio Stoke, they would all know that it was indeed John that I was talking about.</div><br /><br /><div></div><div>I hope the tributes will be coming in thick and fast for him and that his family will take comfort from them because it will show them just how loved he was and what a big hole there will be in the hearts of all those who knew him.</div><br /><br /><div></div><div>He was a great person, with a fabulous sense of humour as this clip will prove - enjoy. He'll be entertaining them in Heaven now!</div><br /><div></div><br /><div><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZxjKXpxPsXw">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZxjKXpxPsXw</a></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>John 'Abbo' Abberley. Legend.</div><br /><br /><br /><div>RIP</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159889862915310174.post-61364106085333772492010-10-05T20:13:00.003+01:002010-10-05T20:20:34.141+01:00Farewell to one of the nation's favourite clowns<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK4u4Ddd9aksHPiKUVyzDE9QBI7-8LVrgb9vcs5FyUZEKprdQ1weim0rdaGTkGEFWHHy_3H7FOFg813OtGcWb8Q1ivu13RGPp7EY-z06vm9qPJ5LQHUZbA6hhcthLwXJubPASQU5K3Ay12/s1600/norman-wisdom-sized.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 309px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524642742617449682" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK4u4Ddd9aksHPiKUVyzDE9QBI7-8LVrgb9vcs5FyUZEKprdQ1weim0rdaGTkGEFWHHy_3H7FOFg813OtGcWb8Q1ivu13RGPp7EY-z06vm9qPJ5LQHUZbA6hhcthLwXJubPASQU5K3Ay12/s320/norman-wisdom-sized.jpg" /></a><br /><div><br /><br />Norman Wisdom was like the marmite of British Comedy – you either loved him or you hated him and thankfully, most people loved him. </div><div><br /><br />Whenever I see that one of his films is on, I always sit and watch it because they bring back so many happy memories for me growing up as a kid as his films used to be screened mainly on a Saturday morning before the likes of Tiswas and Multicoloured swap shop.<br /><br /></div><div>They were entertaining films with more slapstick than dialogue and the usual endings of the little man who takes on the big companies and not only wins, but gets the girl at the end as well.<br /><br /></div><div>Sir Norman Wisdom was one of those people who made you smile. You only had to see him and you laughed in anticipation of his falling down the stairs or doing one of his comedy trips. He was still doing them in his 80s and famously did a trip when he collected his Knighthood from The Queen.<br /><br /></div><div>My favourite Wisdom film is the one where he is working as a milkman with a horse drawn carriage and is being bullied by the big dairy that is trying to take over Mr Grimsdale’s patch.<br /><br /></div><div>The dirty tricks, the poisoning of his horse and the bullying were all things that the ordinary man could identify with and so there were loud cheers when he finally caused chaos at Consolidated Dairies<br /><br /></div><div>The film, called The Early Bird, has the following entry in Wikipedia:<br /><br /></div><div>The Early Bird is a 1965 British comedy film directed by Robert Asher and starring Norman Wisdom. It also featured Edward Chapman, Bryan Pringle, Richard Vernon, John Le Mesurier and Jerry Desmonde. It was the first Norman Wisdom film to be shot in colour. The title is taken from the expression "the early bird catches the worm".<br /><br /></div><div>Synopsis<br /><br /></div><div>Wisdom’s character works for Grimsdale’s Dairy as a milkman in competition with Consolidated Dairies, an ever-growing rival company under manager, Walter Hunter (played by Jerry Desmonde).<br /><br /></div><div>Much of the humour centres on classic slapstick comedy, with Norman encountering various comedic escapades, from being dragged around Mr Hunter’s gardens by an errant lawnmower to using the fire brigade’s high pressure hosepipes to blast fireman off their ladders after being called to a suspected fire at Consolidated Dairies’ HQ.<br /><br /></div><div>The film used some notable special effects to create extra storeys in the Consolidated Dairies’ building and to place the head of the Grimsdale’s Dairy horse on an image of Miss Hoskins.<br /><br /></div><div>It is my favorite Wisdom film and has me laughing every time I see it.<br /><br /></div><div>However, something that I have in my CD collection is a great CD of songs by Norman Wisdom. Not only was he a funny man, but he could dance, play several musical instruments and had a lovely singing voice. "Don’t laugh at me coz I’m a fool" being his most famous hit.<br /><br /></div><div>He had a good innings. 95 is a wonderful age and he leaves behind a legacy of laughter.<br /><br /></div><div>There will no doubt be many tributes to this funny little man of comedy and I wouldn’t be surprised if Albania had an official day of mourning.<br /><br /></div><div>Norman had cult status in Albania as his films were the only ones allowed to be screened in the country. He once went over there will a BBC film crew and was mobbed by all these adoring fans.<br /><br />So farewell Sir Norman.<br /><br /></div><div></div><div>There will be a bright star shining in heaven now; I just hope he doesn’t trip up the steps to the pearly gates!!<br /><br /></div><div>RIP Sir Norman Wisdom, 1915 – 2010.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159889862915310174.post-59257538185054121292010-05-13T18:29:00.003+01:002010-05-14T07:53:34.315+01:00Lisa Moss - a tribute<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6AC7Qcxj2sy52gH1Yk2dhv5frSdHnQrWUcAhoaR9zsk_WkChc2O6VoVfAxMDPT3KTq0PnR2jSW0eNdjm-aFOD6spVQwx6ePrwPDR82FLW-SM98HfH5pYxdvL03-bshI5B-ZZVdk1dZlIl/s1600/lisa.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470808264559736594" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 302px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6AC7Qcxj2sy52gH1Yk2dhv5frSdHnQrWUcAhoaR9zsk_WkChc2O6VoVfAxMDPT3KTq0PnR2jSW0eNdjm-aFOD6spVQwx6ePrwPDR82FLW-SM98HfH5pYxdvL03-bshI5B-ZZVdk1dZlIl/s320/lisa.jpg" border="0" /></a> Lisa Moss - what can I say about this remarkable young lady?<br /><br />We both started work within a week of each other and as she had seven days worth of knowledge over me - she showed me where to go and get my pass, she showed me how to log into my PC account and generally helped me through my first week at a new work place.<br /><br />She was a gem. Always laughing, always making me smile and as you can imagine, we hit it off straight away.<br /><br />When she got promotion to the job of events manager, our paths crossed more as we worked in the same offices and used to work long hours, especially when we were working on the same events.<br /><br />Poor Lisa was also subject to some of my terrible practical jokes and I often used to tease her for how easy she was to fall for my pranks. She took them all in good faith and we'd often giggle about the sillier things in life.<br /><br />We both had an unhealthy obsession with Holby City and used to spend our tea breaks or chats in between walking to meetings catching up with the latest news at Holby.<br /><br />Lisa didn't know just how funny she was. Her natural flair for saying things that had us all in stitches was legendary. Her sat nav in the car broke and she came into the office one morning extremely flustered as it was no longer working. "I'm just lost without my sat nav" she piped up. Not realising why we laughed at her comment.<br /><br />Then things changed. One day when we were just having a chat in the office, she mentioned to me about a lump she had discovered and that was the day that her life took a totally different direction.<br /><br />Finding a lump is something a woman fears most and after she'd had it checked out and it was confirmed that it was cancer - Lisa went into her warrior mode. She was not going to let this awful disease get the better of her. She was going to fight it - no matter what. And fight it she did.<br /><br />She went through the pain of surgery, chemotherapy and all that comes with it to emerge the other end, smiling and laughing at the different wigs she had to wear to conceal the fact that her hair had gone.<br /><br />Not once in my company did she complain. We both had crying sessions when I hugged her and let her sob on my shoulder and she had the odd pangs of "why me" but everyone does - but she coped with it in her stride and we were delighted when she announced that this life-threatening illness had given her a new zest for life.<br /><br />She took out her savings, learned to salsa dance in Cuba, went to and took part in the Rio Carnival, visited Bangkok, Thailand, Spain and went on various cruises - life had dealt her a blow but she was going to enjoy as much as she could.<br /><br />We were all delighted when after more surgery and a double reconstruction, she was back at work but her good fortune was not to last and the illness returned with an even more aggressive streak.<br /><br />The brave Lisa battled on; determined that she would once again beat it. After a year of constant treatment, stays in hospital, chemo-therapy, blood transfusions and endless trips to the consultant - she got the news that she was not going to get better and that body blow saw her deteriorate so quickly.<br /><br />She passed away on 12 May with her family and friends at her bedside.<br /><br />Thirty seven years old is no age to die. She had so much more to do with her life, things she wanted to see, people she wanted to meet but she was so cruelly robbed of those chances.<br /><br />I only knew Lisa for five years but in those five years, she was one of the kindest, nicest and most precious friends to have.<br /><br />Although my last memory of her was as she lay in her hospital bed on Tuesday, I'm hoping that in time, the image you see in my blog is the one that comes to mind when I think about her - smiling, happy, vivacious and stunning.<br /><br />She was my friend, my colleague and a true inspiration.<br /><br />Rest in peace my beautiful girl. I'm going to miss you so very, very much.<br /><br />xxxUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159889862915310174.post-40700682161694890692010-01-27T20:22:00.012+00:002010-01-27T23:49:47.433+00:00The wonder of worm charming!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh31awHEQu_rc3jpLlCQRddcbCXgZWWbGfCFL8rTaEk_vfqdjtSe6V6kfBDuWdUtPDY88JUAVXrVRXMe9vCrfjGQrFw2QaPYE5a_la2GroZuLmW8ILR8zhUSVYAF1e-N2zdMux4J8QHnQho/s1600-h/worm2.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 238px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431518457739770002" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh31awHEQu_rc3jpLlCQRddcbCXgZWWbGfCFL8rTaEk_vfqdjtSe6V6kfBDuWdUtPDY88JUAVXrVRXMe9vCrfjGQrFw2QaPYE5a_la2GroZuLmW8ILR8zhUSVYAF1e-N2zdMux4J8QHnQho/s320/worm2.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div>I had an email read out on Chris Evans' breakfast show today on Radio 2! I was sooo excited and it was in response to his interview with the organiser of the Annual World Worm Charming Championships in Willaston, Cheshire.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>I have taken part in these very championships. It must have been about 1991 when I was working at Radio Stoke and I was approached by the Cystic Fibrosis Society, Stoke-on-Trent branch to compete in the championships and get sponsored to raise money for their charity, so of course, I jumped at the chance.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Now I couldn't even charm a duck off the water, so what chance had I of trying to persuade some innocent little worms to leave the sanctuary of their soggy underground haven?</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>For those of you that don't know what goes into the art of charming the worm, the rules are many but simple. You are given a small plot of land and have about half an hour to charm as many worms as you can and these are the rules:<br /><br /><br /></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>Each competitor to operate in a 3 x 3 metre plot.<br />Lots to be drawn to allocate plots.<br />Duration of competition is 30 minutes.<br />Worms may not be dug from the ground. Only vibrations may be used.<br />No drugs to be used! Water is considered to be a drug/stimulant.<br />Any form of music may be used to charm the worms out of the earth.<br />A garden fork of normal type may be stuck into the ground and vibrated by any manual means to encourage worms to the surface.<br />Garden forks to be suitably covered to prevent possible injury when being transported to and from the competition. No accidents please!<br />Each competitor to leave his/her fork in allocated plot on arrival.<br />A piece of wood, smooth or notched may be used to strike or 'fiddle' the handle of the garden fork to assist vibration.<br />Competitors who do not wish to handle worms may appoint a second to do so. The second shall be known as a 'Gillie'.<br />Each competitor may collect worms from his/her own plot only.<br />Worms to be handled carefully and collected in damp peat and placed in a suitable, named container provided by the organising committee.<br />A handbell to be rung about five minutes before the start of the competition.<br />Competitors to keep clear of competition plots until given the instruction "Get to your Plots".<br />The competitor who 'charms' the most worms to be the winner.<br />In the event of a tie, the winner to be decided by a further five minutes charming.<br />Charmed worms to be released after the birds have gone to roost on the evening of the event.</div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><br /><br />When I took part in it, I managed to con my Mum into coming with me by promising her a day out in the country! It was an incredibly hot day and I felt really sorry for her as she didn't like the heat and so I got her a chair in the shade so she could sit and watch her second born make an absolute charlie of herself.<br /><br /></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><br />First of all, I was wearing a very ill fitting T-shirt which doesn't help when you're a big girl. There was a cartoon worm on the t-shirt which looked a bit distorted because my boobs are quite big and the worm looked like his head was sticking out of his body! In fact, my large chest made the worm look like he was in 3-D!! (or should that be a 43D?Lol!!)<br /><br /><br />Secondly, I drew a plot that was in direct sunlight so no worm worth his salt would want to come out into the sunshine.<br /><br /></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>Thirdly, the only tool I bought with me to charm the little blighters out of the ground was my plastic recorder! I thought I would lure them out with music rather than the primitive garden fork method - I now know from bitter experience that Cheshire worms are either deaf or do not appreciate live music. That's probably why you never see any worms at a Coldplay gig.<br /><br /><br />The half hour seemed like six hours and after ten minutes or so, I'd run out of my recorder repertoire so then I started to improvise or play familiar tunes over and over again. I think I played the theme from Z Cars a few times, three blind mice, Mull of Kintyre, a bit of classical and something that Wilson, Keppel and Betty used to do an Egyptian dance to. (See the film below by following the link or Google Wilson, Kepple and Betty - you'd love 'em) </div><div></div><div><br /><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FxAr66vtUoQ">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FxAr66vtUoQ</a></div><div></div><div><br /></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><br />I was so relieved when the bell sounded but at the same time, deeply ashamed and embarrassed. It was also a bloody good job that I wasn't sponsored per worm or else I would have made hardly anything for the charity.<br /><br /><br />When I tell you that the winner had the grand total of 200 worms charmed, you will appreciate why my haul was so pitiful. I only managed, THREE, yes THREE and I'm sure one of those was cut in half. It was very embarrassing but like I said, I was in a bone dry plot in direct sunlight so I was fighting a losing battle.<br /><br /><br />However, it was all good fun and I think I raised £500 from listener , friends and family donations, so the charity was a winner at least.<br /><br /><br />My Mum enjoyed her trip to Cheshire - well at least she didn't say she didn't and somewhere in my photo album I have a picture of her taken on the day of the worm charming championships and it's one of my favourite pictures of her.<br /><br /></div><div>I must admit that it was certainly an experience I will never forget but sadly, it has not made it to my CV yet under hobbies or interests!<br /><br /></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>So you can imagine my glee at hearing Chris read out my email in full to his millions of listeners. I was at work when he read it out and my friend Katie heard it! That's one thing I love about email, it's so instant. Being able to respond to a radio programme about an item you've just listened to and have your message read out minutes later just makes me want to say in a Fast Show character way:<br /><br /></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>"Int' modern technology Brilliant?"<br /><br /><br /></div><div></div><div></div><div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159889862915310174.post-63463414033792554942010-01-19T22:22:00.002+00:002010-01-19T22:51:42.591+00:00Goodbye dear friend...end of an era<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3LL0urDkSO4EHwWYI_TT6OyGZLmPo6m8bt60HkBUUuyisG5OlnA0qE6ZVgf_ZV1UHl0Qg1pqxJfVFZ5D7acIi4kCWhPgwwPjQPWTeuWNlDrK-QVF0TdCcnf_8b2l_0itpwAokGQBU81Yu/s1600-h/Cadbury+Dairy+Milk+bar.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 236px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428580239908309618" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3LL0urDkSO4EHwWYI_TT6OyGZLmPo6m8bt60HkBUUuyisG5OlnA0qE6ZVgf_ZV1UHl0Qg1pqxJfVFZ5D7acIi4kCWhPgwwPjQPWTeuWNlDrK-QVF0TdCcnf_8b2l_0itpwAokGQBU81Yu/s320/Cadbury+Dairy+Milk+bar.jpg" /></a><br /><div>You could say that I am a Cadbury baby. I was virtually weened on the brown stuff. Cadbury chocolate has always played an important part in my life and today, it is with great sadness that I say goodbye to a dear friend.</div><div> </div><div>When I was growing up, Cadbury chocolate was given to me as a treat, it was given to me as a reward, it was given to me to cheer me up should I be down and to calm me down should I be playing up.</div><div> </div><div>The Cadbury purple has always been my favourite colour and I could sing everyone of their catchy jingles. I must have eaten every chocolate bar they have ever created.</div><div> </div><div>Yes, I know, that could be the reason why I am the shape of a Cadbury Lime Barrel (to be found in a Milk Tray selection) but it has made me realise sitting here typing this, just how much a part of my life has been made happier by scoffing their sticky delights.</div><div> </div><div>To let Kraft, a big US conglomerate, snatch a part of our heritage away from us right under our noses is too much for me to bear without getting hot under the collar.</div><div> </div><div>Britain's best loved chocolate-maker is no longer ours. Two hundred years of history with quaint but wonderful Quaker traditions has been surrendered to a processed cheese giant with little of no regard of what it has won - to them, it's just another company to be swallowed up. To us, it's our last great asset which will be stripped in no time.</div><div> </div><div>I am mad. No, I am angry. Why has this been allowed to happen?</div><div> </div><div>It's not too late. Please Cadbury shareholders, don't surrender. Think of what you are letting go.</div><div> </div><div>The once sweet taste of success for a family-run firm will now be a bitter pill to swallow seeing the drum-playing Cadbury gorilla wearing a hat made from processed cheese.</div><div> </div><div>I've nothing against Kraft, they saw a firm that was iconic and much loved the world over which was making a profit in today's troubled times. </div><div> </div><div>Mark my words, a few years down the line thousands of loyal Cadbury workers (many of them generations of workers from the same family) will find themselves on the dole when production is shifted abroad to cut costs so Kraft can pay for the loans they have had to take out to pay for takeover.</div><div> </div><div>Hostile takeover? You bet I am hostile towards it and judging by the reaction of people I have heard being insterviewed it should not have been allowed to happen. It wouldn't have happened in France or Germany but we let this go on time and time again. It has got to stop before we lose every scrap of identity and pride in what we produce.</div><div> </div><div>This sucks, it stinks, it's wrong but it's not over till the fat lady sings and I am not singing until the bitter end.</div><div> </div><div>SHAREHOLDERS, SEE SENSE AND DON'T LET THE BIG BOYS WIN - FIGHT, BE STRONG AND HOLD ON.</div><div> </div><div>Keep this wonderful company the way it is and save it for future generations to enjoy.</div><div> </div><div>It's not too late. Say no to the money - you know it makes sense.</div><div> </div><div> </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159889862915310174.post-58354741153663379402009-09-18T00:11:00.003+01:002009-09-18T00:21:59.219+01:00So who was Sven Karlsen?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3lviWezqORzQav1SyvVQnuT8xG3I7ecEgUgkIXjwMlW0ydopKKImfxw6QPQfYEfujRtrjVVQSgxhwUmXtyGEdO6RfzkNezsS0RYJAM1IhcWXmeU9gRE53utkRQ7nJVLJp9ltHlMhcPWZg/s1600-h/norway.bmp"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 210px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382578807462181922" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3lviWezqORzQav1SyvVQnuT8xG3I7ecEgUgkIXjwMlW0ydopKKImfxw6QPQfYEfujRtrjVVQSgxhwUmXtyGEdO6RfzkNezsS0RYJAM1IhcWXmeU9gRE53utkRQ7nJVLJp9ltHlMhcPWZg/s320/norway.bmp" /></a><br /><div>I was seventeen at the time and I was playing first cornet in a brass band in my native Stoke-on-Trent. Every couple of years, the brass band did an exchange tour with a brass band in Norway from a town near Stavanger. They were the brass band that belonged to the farming equipment giants, Kverneland and it was our turn to go over there to play a series of concerts with their band.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>I remember being very excited as apart from a school trip to Paris in 1979, this was only my second trip abroad and it was with a group of people I got on very well with and had fun playing music with them.<br /></div><br /><div>I do recall that I still had that god-awful curly perm at the time, which I thought looked cool.<br /></div><div>The trip to Norway involved a long coach trip from Stoke to Newcastle-upon-Tyne, a boat crossing from Newcastle to Stavanger and a coach ride from Stavanger to Keverneland.</div><div> </div><div>The sea crossing was the worst bit as the water was very rough and everything I had eaten that day decided to pay me a visit over and over again. However, once I had got used to the choppy seas, I saw something that I will never forget. Whales. Yes, I saw whales swimming and water coming out of their blowholes, it was a fabulous sight.<br /></div><div>The trip was surprisingly good once the sea sickness had gone and we were all excited but a tad tired by the time we arrived at the Keverneland plant to be picked up by our host families.<br />Me and my friend Tracy were to stay with the Karlsen family. The Dad didn’t speak English, but the Mum did and so did the children and they loved having us there and wanted to talk to us all the time. </div><br /><div></div><div>There were three children, two girls and a boy. The boy was Sven. A chubby faced, curly-haired boy with blue eyes (one of them a lazy one!) and the most amazing smile you ever saw. I was smitten as soon as I clapped eyes on him!<br /></div><div>Sven was the drummer of the Kverneland band and he was so sweet. He made us feel very welcome and when we weren’t in rehearsals, he was showing us around his town and teaching us Norwegian words in exchange for our English ones.<br /></div><br /><div>He taught me what the Norwegian word for “pea” was = echt and the word for “pop” = brut. We were walking around a department store and I pointed at things and he told me the Norwegian word for it. Cheekily I remember asking him what was the Norwegian word for “sex” and he said, with a very evil smile “the same!”<br /></div><br /><div>There was an attraction between us and although he was two years younger than me, in no time at all, we were holding hands and going off on long walks to the beach and sitting in the sand dunes watching the fish leaping out of the sea.<br /></div><div>It was all so innocent and sweet. It was while we were sitting in the sand dunes that we shared our first kiss. My little crush on Sven was the talk of the brass band and some of my cornet playing boy chums were really taking the piss out of me because Sven was fifteen and I was getting the usual “cradle snatcher” remarks.<br /></div><br /><div>Meal times in the Karlsen household were always something to look forward to as you never knew what you were going to get and thankfully, it was all nice. None of the smoked reindeer that I was told about by some of the older boys in the band.<br /></div><div>Sven’s Dad would have loved to have been in on some of the conversations and you could tell his frustration at not being able to understand what his kids and us were laughing and joking at but he laughed all the same because he was pleased to see his kids get so much out of the new house guests.<br /></div><br /><div>All of a sudden, a daddylonglegs came flying in through the window and Sven asked me what we called them in the UK?<br /></div><br /><div>“A daddylonglegs” I said.<br /></div><br /><div>They all laughed at that and laughed even more when Mr Karlsen tried to repeat it and it came out as “dooblieblombleb” so ever since 1980, daddylonglegs are now known as dooblie-blom-blebs in my eyes.<br /></div><br /><div>It was a really sad day when we had to say our goodbyes to the Karlsens. The week-long tour had gone well. We’d played some great music, had some wonderful excursions to the Fjords and were made to feel very welcome by our host families.<br /></div><br /><div>Saying goodbye to Sven was very sad. He gave me a flower and a notebook and a cap. His Mum and Dad could see that he was upset and gave us some time to ourselves to say our goodbyes. We hugged each other for ages and then had a lovely long kiss and then another hug and he said to me these words – written phonetically: “yoy oisker doy” which I found out meant “I love you”<br /></div><div>I was late getting on the bus and everyone knew why and so when I eventually got on they all started whistling and singing “Ali’s in love, Ali’s in love!”<br /></div><br /><div>I did shed a tear or two when the bus drove off and all our host families were waving at us but I had a lovely time and nearly 30 years later, I still think of Sven and wondered what happened to him.<br /></div><br /><div>We kept in touch for about six months or so and both of us had left our respective bands by the time the Norwegians came over to us. I re-wrote the words to Flanders and Swann’s Hippo Song to fit in with my experience with Sven and for a while afterwards, I did it as a party piece at brass band rehearsals.<br /></div><br /><div>So Sven Karlsen may be the name of a fictitious Private Eye in a thriller I am not writing at the moment, but the real Sven was a sweet-faced little drummer boy who inspired me to cheer on Norway every year when the Eurovision Song Contest came around – just in case he was the one playing the drum!!!!</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159889862915310174.post-3764372730684193682009-07-11T16:39:00.005+01:002009-07-11T18:53:32.333+01:00The final chapter - back where he belongs...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWy_qjbah2w6g1ntKyqhlYTyeyY62NU13suCTXlFBJz7aL80p-7146c2uuBr77U12-0-H7tUJQ-dy3BkaaRkBjdYf4kM48gUccEq7NqGN_R1uc0l6a65DQ8xXo2l-Fb-8Aq2EH8gVuVetc/s1600-h/DSC00766.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357228015678237554" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWy_qjbah2w6g1ntKyqhlYTyeyY62NU13suCTXlFBJz7aL80p-7146c2uuBr77U12-0-H7tUJQ-dy3BkaaRkBjdYf4kM48gUccEq7NqGN_R1uc0l6a65DQ8xXo2l-Fb-8Aq2EH8gVuVetc/s320/DSC00766.JPG" /></a> Well, Monkeh has had one heck of a week.<br /><br /><br />He's swam with sharks in Anglesey, been on Mr Punch's stage in Llandudno, hitched a lift to Harlech, caught a bus to Barmouth, been involved in petty theft from his Mum and Dad, been caught in a four-in-a-bed romp with The Williams sisters and a sheep and finally, put behind bars in Conway by the infamous policeman, Sweeper of the Yard.<br /><br /><br />Once his bail had been paid and the charges against his were dropped, we went to pick the little fella up from the Police Station.<br /><br /><br />He was obviously very pleased to see us and looking none the worse from his ordeal.<br /><br /><br />We gathered his belongings and packed the car and headed for home.<br /><br /><br />It's been a very strange week but Monkeh will not forget the new friends he met and the old dodgy acquaintances he encountered. Who can forget Sharon and Tracy to two ginger tom cats in Harlech or Brian the Pug who helped him with the picture scam?<br /><br /><br />There was the mean Yorkshire man who ran the B & B, the strange Geordie voice-over guy and the Dutch hotel owner whose wife had a penchant for filming their guests while in the privacy of their own room.<br /><br /><br />Then there was George Seagull who conned him out of £400 to appear in a film that didn't exist, his old flame Annette her thin sisters and of course, Blodwyn and Bethan Williams and the Sheep.<br /><br />Going back to Coventry will seem so normal but will Monkeh put his naughty ways behind him and behave himself on the way home? Will he realise that he has been a bad boy and be able to accept the consequences?<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzuflpPk1Ujitbl5UX8AWsACtaq3c8p0XmZZMricn2fATBLe5xt7hAevGbHwELTgj1az2gn1VBwqWvnKLZtwQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></p><br /><br /><p>I'm not really surprised that he ended the film blog by showing us his bum, but that's Monkeh all over. He's home now and has gone out to meet his other Monkey pals to tell them about his big Welsh adventure.</p><p>Normal blogging service will return as soon as possible.</p><p>Or will it?</p>To look at Monkeh's holiday photos check out the following link:<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bushythelamb/">http://www.flickr.com/photos/bushythelamb/</a><br /><p>TTFN</p><br /><br /><p></p><br /><br /><p></p><br /><br /><p></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159889862915310174.post-60269272877668008642009-07-10T16:38:00.006+01:002009-07-10T21:28:37.324+01:00Softly softly catchie monkeh....<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC8SDM8NegF91IGfZ0PSuFFPjq3W45AvA5pvnBCznFHNUWGFuHds7Ykc1BaPu2eKJx0WiBL8mmXm0n-0uVnnPjLypQk50Fx0baMfmh1EMX9Yono-6yskAUDj2W7Y5fy2V60GMrgXAsCMWL/s1600-h/DSC00768.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356856619542093074" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC8SDM8NegF91IGfZ0PSuFFPjq3W45AvA5pvnBCznFHNUWGFuHds7Ykc1BaPu2eKJx0WiBL8mmXm0n-0uVnnPjLypQk50Fx0baMfmh1EMX9Yono-6yskAUDj2W7Y5fy2V60GMrgXAsCMWL/s320/DSC00768.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><div>We last saw Monkeh in his hotel room in the Dutch Quarter of Barmouth with his friends, The Williams sisters and a sheep.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>After a riotous time in the hotel room, their antics came to a sudden halt when Inspector Sweeper of the Yard, Britain's most monotonous Policeman, burst in and arrested them. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>They were all carted off to Conway Police Station - Monkeh was put behind bars (see picture) obviously this was nothing new to him but it was a new and unnerving time for The Williams sisters - both of them had been behind bars before, but at their local "The Welsh Tiger" where they took it in shifts to serve pints to the locals.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>The sheep had never experienced this kind of detention and was obviously worried that he was going to be sent to the place where his Mum and Dad were sent - and never came back.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>We catch up with our hero, Monkeh, being interrogated by the aforementioned Sweeper of the Yard in one of the station's interrogation rooms.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Please take heed of this warning - if you are at all affected by any of the over acting you are about to witness, a helpline number will appear at the end of the film. Headphones again, are required.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><br /><p><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyxr00G0bwk0alOIEvDnCJ0T1uK9eLZ0zJaSuUyN8fvNJn7ml0U_61TsRQO9y9Tiwd_NJKTAPgb1-YNvFkDPg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></p><br /><p>The film producers would like to apologise for the scene where Monkeh was offered and accepted a cigarette. Please children, do not try to attempt to copy anything that Monkeh might do in the film as smoking can damage your health.</p><br /><p>Tomorrow, Monkeh and his Guardians say goodbye to Wales and reflect on the week they have had.</p><br /><p></p><br /><p></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159889862915310174.post-41563588387694555682009-07-10T07:41:00.000+01:002009-07-10T07:41:54.023+01:00Monkeh hoodwinked by chum and much more....<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUtRu5TTE4Squv9MnSKikc6uIJFZ-U4DLaFF0jE15d1bQLLLInTnU0DejPAOz-bnxj1QTtMx5AVZuFsSniXL0Ccg647Fc8BZWdRJ67HSZ407i0cCL3e1AU64h8slM_Lq6df_hBFD69Xo94/s1600-h/DSC00757.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356570198868365698" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUtRu5TTE4Squv9MnSKikc6uIJFZ-U4DLaFF0jE15d1bQLLLInTnU0DejPAOz-bnxj1QTtMx5AVZuFsSniXL0Ccg647Fc8BZWdRJ67HSZ407i0cCL3e1AU64h8slM_Lq6df_hBFD69Xo94/s320/DSC00757.JPG" /></a> We last saw Monkeh being given his orders on house rules for the shady B& B he was staying at in Barmouth.<br /><br /><br />"No way do I want you to be entertaining those Williams sisters in your room" said the brusque Yorkshire landlord to our little knitted chum.<br /><br /><br /><br />However, Monkeh needed to see them because they had promised to assist him with his Welsh accent for the audition his mate George Seagull had told him about. Monkeh managed to sneak the sisters up to his room and they went about transforming him from a normal, healthy knitted monkey to a convincing young Welsh woman complete in a traditional Welsh costume (see picture).<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />He was bound to get the part and pass himself off as a Welsh woman, wasn't he?<br /><br /><br /><br />Monkeh and the Williams sisters all went to the location where the film was being shot. Monkeh thought it was strange that his friend George Seagull wasn't there to meet them and what was even more strange was the fact that when they arrived at the location (which was on the other side of town to where his B & B was) there were no film crews, no make-up or costume tents.<br /><br /><br /><br />Strangely enough, there were no other extras there, no film stars, no crew canteen and no sign of filming.<br /><br /><br /><br />Monkeh was fuming - he'd been lied to and his so-called friend, George Seagull (who he had given £400 to in order to get a part in the film) was nowhere to be seen.<br /><br /><br /><br />"Never mind, Monkeh" said Bethan Williams,"there will be other films but the next time a seagull comes up to you in the street and asks you for 400 quid to appear in a film where you'd have to learn Welsh and dress up as a woman, I hope you'll be a little bit more suspicious!"<br /><br /><br /><br />"Yes, be very cautious" said Blodwyn Williams. "If we had known that it was George Seagull who had told you about the filming, we would have told you not to go as he's pulled this scam before.<br /><br /><br /><br />"You got off lightly. He conned Babe the Pig once out of £1,000 by telling him that he was a cert for a Danish Bacon commercial and when he turned up for the film shoot, he'd actually been sold to the local butcher and now he's in the deep freeze - so you were lucky."<br /><br /><br /><br />"I don't feel very lucky," said Monkeh. "I feel foolish. But at least I've still got my B & B for the next few days, so why don't we all go back to my room again and work our way through the mini bar?!<br /><br /><br /><br />"Ooooh yes," giggled Bethan and Blodwyn. However, when they got back to the B & B, Monkeh found his belongings on the doorstep and a note left on his case read: "You broke the rules, you're out on your Monkey ear!"<br /><br /><br /><br />"What on earth am I going to do now?" said Monkeh.<br /><br /><br /><br />Blodwyn said: "I know of another B & B where they are more liberal about what you do and with whom, why don't we go there? There are other ways to break into film you know, so don't be downhearted."<br /><br /><br />"Oooh yes" said Bethan. "Let's go to that other B & B in the Dutch Quarter".<br /><br /><br /><br />"Well, I've got no other choice," said Monkeh and off they went to the infamous Dutch Quarter of Barmouth.<br /><br /><br /><br />Again, ear phones are advisable in order to hear the film in decent quality.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzf040VtAVA_oGIMVjvjhH7_0ZRSuyOaXFxBqTCJoSYVGwcyiki3TEV29cnBF-Y0LdWrfnu7D_nc16TVEYEFw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></p><br /><p>Oh no! What on earth is Monkeh going to do now? He's got no money, he's a long way from home and he's about to find himself in the slammer with a couple of Welsh sisters and a sheep. How is he going to get out of this latest predicament?</p><br /><p>Tune in tomorrow to find out the latest in the escapades of Monkeh in Wales.</p><br /><p></p><br /><p></p><br /><p></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159889862915310174.post-62040944590903835632009-07-08T22:09:00.007+01:002009-07-09T15:29:59.351+01:00A bus ride to Barmouth for Monkeh<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikysXwaaNZbq0u2-GmR3tTBcHFCEEopwCcWpauVPxWjDORVbBZq_RPUVXqPC-lR7ylsnzsEABBouYLI7lD5TjucW-9VbVypXO2-IGSuMwFey7bfruzNb0uaI_xVQijAMbz8RdobYjJPV3m/s1600-h/DSC00709.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356199794002363778" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikysXwaaNZbq0u2-GmR3tTBcHFCEEopwCcWpauVPxWjDORVbBZq_RPUVXqPC-lR7ylsnzsEABBouYLI7lD5TjucW-9VbVypXO2-IGSuMwFey7bfruzNb0uaI_xVQijAMbz8RdobYjJPV3m/s320/DSC00709.JPG" /></a> You last joined us when Monkeh had nicked the contents of my purse and hopped on a bus to Barmouth.<br /><br /><br /><br />He just couldn't wait to get there as he not only had family there, but an old flame who he actually met up with, her name was Annette (Monkeh pictured talking to her and her sisters).<br /><br /><br /><br />He was so excited as he hadn't seen Annette for such a long time and boy had she grown but was still as thin as ever. Monkeh told her that he was on the run and she advised him to lie low for a bit and she gave him the name and address of a local B & B which was run by a rather arrogant Yorkshire Man, who himself had dabbled in some dodgy dealings.<br /><br /><br /><br />The only problem was that the B & B wouldn't let you book in until after 3pm, so Monkeh had a couple of hours to kill and in that time, how much trouble can one Monkeh cause?<br /><br /><br /><br />Monkeh met up with another old friend of his, George Seagull. He was telling Monkeh how he has just made a film and that they are looking for extras for his next one if he was interested.<br /><br /><br /><br />"There's only one drawback" said George to Monkeh "you have to be Welsh and a woman" but he insisted that it was very easy to achieve.<br /><br /><br /><br />Monkeh got really excited. The prospect of being in a film was just a wonderful feeling. He'd always wanted to expand his portfolio, afterall, there's only so much you can do about tea for 30 seconds a time.<br /><br /><br /><br />Filming was due to start in the morning and last for several days. The costume fitting would be the first thing that the extras would have to go for and Monkeh thought that he could pass himself off as a woman, afterall, he'd passed himself off as the Queen once for an alternative Christmas Day broadcast and no-one seemed to notice.<br /><br /><br /><br />Monkeh decided that once he'd booked into his B & B (using the credit card that he nicked from my bag!) he could have a good night's kip and put lots of moisturiser on his face and shave so that you couldn't see his Monkeh stubble and start practising his Welsh.<br /><br /><br /><br />Luckily, he had a couple of friends living locally who were notorious and would do anything for a night in a decent B & B. Bethan and Blodwyn, or The Williams Sisters, as they are known locally, had made friends with Monkeh years ago when he used to work on the fun fair with his Uncle.<br /><br /><br />He rang the sisters and told them that he was in town and wondered if they would come to his B & B later to give him a few pointers on how to pass himself off as a Welsh woman.<br /><br /><br /><br />It was coming up to checking in time and so Monkeh made his way to his B & B which was in a seedy part of Barmouth down a little narrow lane. He found the place and it was dark, miserable and very much out of the way - perfect for lying low.<br /><br /><br /><br />He made his way to the reception and spoke to the woman to book a room. Sadly, he couldn't use the credit card as the name didn't match, but he did have the cash and she accepted that, with no questions asked and then sent him upstairs.........but what awaited him?<br /><br /><br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwyAB4VGy3bqfyGA1qSCaTUWjAKVkiX8lUPsYgxOiBfY5WaECyOdvUEBcEVrCXGGAzKoGtkLrEiwLX1OWtZkw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br /><br /><p>With so many restrictions - will Monkeh manage to sneak his friends up to his room?<br /></p><p>Find out tomorrow in the next thrilling installment of Monkeh's trip to Wales.<br /></p><p></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159889862915310174.post-78933737457592712692009-07-08T17:03:00.005+01:002009-07-08T22:09:21.043+01:00Monkeh hitches to Harlech<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-Ndpsda0pxuRdw3qh0ucttZDy5r0oHnuK9rMtdopE77cLae3W65fJdXhnn4KWMRaKFbGUxMnZKrUlR8A-xskfHxfcfsSGSQPmfodHpVOf-MPoqTg51baEVZvVH_VfYvbqI3mUhqbm_LIt/s1600-h/DSC00714.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356129810757495442" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-Ndpsda0pxuRdw3qh0ucttZDy5r0oHnuK9rMtdopE77cLae3W65fJdXhnn4KWMRaKFbGUxMnZKrUlR8A-xskfHxfcfsSGSQPmfodHpVOf-MPoqTg51baEVZvVH_VfYvbqI3mUhqbm_LIt/s320/DSC00714.JPG" /></a><br /><div>Yesterday, I told you how Monkeh had jumped in a strange man's car and hitched a lift. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Someone who was standing next to Monkeh overheard him telling the guy that he wanted to go to Harlech Castle and this man said he was going there and told Monkeh to hop in.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>You may need to pop your headphones into the PC as this is what happened:</div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><p><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dySdKgOz4OIvYx7g57fRb1yEoMwap8KUArXrBtq3qVqmCCvoSC6TYF5OFZnQREd3lK8vvSQFRWEwRWId8k1VA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></p><br /><p>Poor Monkeh and what a mean man to send him on a wild goose chase. </p><br /><p>Luckily, our knitted chum soon found his way back into the town and we all met up again and had a good trot around to see what the small village of Harlech had to offer.</p><br /><p>To sum it up, it was like a one horse town but without the horse! Seriously, it was very quaint. Monkeh visited all the shops buying presents for his friends (these were mainly fruit-based presents and banana in shape) but he did buy me a nice pendant to say thank you for letting him come on holiday with us.</p><br /><p>Monkeh also spotted and befriended a ginger tom cat who was sitting on a bench outside the church. The two of them got chatting and Monkeh discovered that although this cat was a boy, his cruel owners had given him the name of "Sharon" and his twin brother was called "Tracy" - a strange sense of humour in Harlech, obviously.</p><br /><p>I was a tad concerned because since Monkeh had run off on two occasions and both times we'd caught up with him, he was now being very good and attentive, even offering to carry my handbag. </p><br /><p>He couldn't do enough for us which made me even more suspicious. It wasn't until I asked him for my bag and went to get my purse to get out some money for a newspaper that I realised the little so and so had once again, robbed me of my notes and loose change and was heading off down the road. </p><br /><p>I thought he was being very generous on the banana for presents front and now I know why - he was being generous with MY money.</p><br /><p>He was last seen running up the road where he met up with a sandy-coloured Pug bitch called "Brian" and the two of them were planning on fleecing the tourists by asking them if they wanted to pose with Monkeh to have their picture taken. </p><br /><p>Brian the Pug would take the money, take the picture and take the person's address to send the picture on to - Brian was all take, take take!! However, what the unsuspecting tourists were not told, was that there was no film in the camera.</p><br /><p>Between them in just an hour, they had made £70!! Because it was Brian's camera, he gave Monkeh £30 and Brian kept the rest.</p><br /><p>Monkeh waved goodbye to Brian and realised that he hadn't sent his Uncle Dave a postcard, so he soon put that right and once he'd written it and posted it, he was seen heading towards the bus stop to go to the seaside town of Barmouth where he knew they had a fun fair.</p><br /><p>His Great Uncle Barney was a barker at a fair and so Monkeh knew he would soon feel at home if he should take a trip there. He took £2 out of his "takings" and boarded the National Express to Barmouth.</p><br /><p>This time, we knew where he was going as we saw the name of the seaside town on the front of the bus, so once again, we followed him to make sure he didn't get up to any trouble on the bus. </p><br /><p>Apart from leading the singing to "4 and 20 Monkehs came down from Inverness" - he appeared to behave himself and even used the on-board loo instead of pee-ing out of the window like he normally does.</p><br /><p>So, what does Monkeh get up to in Barmouth?</p><br /><p>You know the score by now but what I can tell you that once he gets to Barmouth, he meets his match at a local B & B!</p><br /><p></p><br /><p></p><br /><p></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159889862915310174.post-40620922426935006342009-07-07T17:28:00.006+01:002009-07-07T21:23:30.233+01:00Monkeh goes to sea<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVe9W9B-eA8IichNQzPkyWlwF6yRfg-jLzsTnyy3YboXq_wxeh8XihAwTWI41ReerNi9nyivtvA9-sCL9bs1N7QkosChAe5DtIQF-T08Ojk6Fr-uDedlSMQHCD-W1_zwhRO6ydFp10Tj2S/s1600-h/DSC00679.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355760781967074194" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVe9W9B-eA8IichNQzPkyWlwF6yRfg-jLzsTnyy3YboXq_wxeh8XihAwTWI41ReerNi9nyivtvA9-sCL9bs1N7QkosChAe5DtIQF-T08Ojk6Fr-uDedlSMQHCD-W1_zwhRO6ydFp10Tj2S/s320/DSC00679.JPG" /></a> This is the continuation of Monkeh's recent trip to Wales and the chaos he caused.<br /><br />We last saw Monkeh hopping on the number 37 bus from Llandudno to Anglesey - as we were no where near our car at the time, we had to dash back to the car park and try our hardest to catch the bus up so we could get to Anglesey at the same time before he caused even more trouble.<br /><br />Luckily for me, I went through this trouser pockets the other night to liberate some spare change that he didn't give me back after buying 3 fish suppers. I saw a leaflet for the Anglesey Sea Zoo - so it didn't take a genius to work out where our little friend had taken himself off to.<br /><br />Fortunately, hubby bought his sat nav so we were able to determine which route would get us to the Sea Zoo to beat Monkeh's bus. We didn't think it would be hard to track him down once we got there.<br /><br />Thankfully, by the time we arrived, he had just jumped off the bus (he managed to con a dear old lady to pay his fare for him by promising her free cups to tea for the rest of her life) - you won't see that money again, love. Sorry.<br /><br />Monkeh stood outside the Sea Zoo (see photo) and once he clocked us he ran up to us, knicked my phone from out of my hand and ran inside, dodging the turnstile by jumping over it.<br /><br />By the time we'd joined the queue and paid to get in (there was a big party of school children in front of us) we then had the task of trying to find him inside the building. Knowing him as I do, I just looked for the clues to catch up with him and there they were: a trail of banana skins and monkey nut shells. We followed him but stayed just enough further behind him so he didn't know we were there.<br /><br />He had a great time. He saw fish, crabs, sharks, sea horses (although he did try to mount one of them) star fish, sea anemones and lobsters. All of a sudden, he got extremely excited. We heard this almighty shriek - he had entered the tunnel of fish and in there were the biggest fish you ever saw. Monkeh got really animated, jumping up and down and then it all went quiet.<br /><br />We went to the tunnel but couldn't find him anywhere but he did leave behind my phone and this is what we found on it.<br /><br /><p><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzOiVQUxrp5QTzO4FSTLtNvk4r542s_XPLjCg-kCwvyFAua8Ly--HS-CbeAUuEuug94fJnCe_WgK6OzaKQTyA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></p><p>Well, I'd heard of walking with dinosaurs, trust Monkeh to go one better! Again, we'd lost track of him but outside there was a lot of cheering and applauding. </p><p>Monkeh had paid for all the kids on the coach trip to get into the adventure playground and that meant that they could go on the rides and on the climbing frames. Monkeh shouted to the excited kids "The Monkeh bars are on me!" and as quick as a flash, he was gone.</p><p>He'd got into some strange man's car - where was he off to? You'll have to find out tomorrow.</p><p>Where ever he goes, he causes trouble.</p><p></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159889862915310174.post-30793849488799876112009-07-06T15:27:00.008+01:002009-07-06T22:00:56.455+01:00Monkeh runs amok in Llandudno!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-cDQTBfvf5389QQsGHJ8DVPJW8nBrPO8eurlOBum_FNgTkIdE02kbgWezRGYDFI66iCS_kezYDaZnn__Sx9cNaOsgfYbOQoL8Z3k-tK74O02s-IcIQ0WqdzUwQdblULwH1gHIMz1Ap4AL/s1600-h/DSC00650.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355360276172975186" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-cDQTBfvf5389QQsGHJ8DVPJW8nBrPO8eurlOBum_FNgTkIdE02kbgWezRGYDFI66iCS_kezYDaZnn__Sx9cNaOsgfYbOQoL8Z3k-tK74O02s-IcIQ0WqdzUwQdblULwH1gHIMz1Ap4AL/s320/DSC00650.JPG" /></a> <div>Can I say at the beginning, that it wasn't my intention to upset little children or in fact deceive them in any way, but when you are in the company of a knitted monkey who likes to be the centre of attention, then people who are in his way tend to get hurt.</div><div><br /></div><div>Yesterday, I left you hanging around for the latest installment of Monkeh's recent trip with me and the other half to Wales.</div><div><br /></div><div></div><div></div><div>While I was talking to Bonnie the dog and her owner, Monkeh scampered off to seek out an adventure of his own and after a few desperate minutes of searching for him on Llandudno pier, I spotted the little beggar trying to scale up the side of "Professor Codlyn's Punch and Judy Show" booth on the promenade. </div><div> </div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>This particular show has been going for a long time, ever since Moses was a lad in fact, so it was no surprise that Monkeh wanted to get in on the act.</div><div><br /></div><div></div><div></div><div>Although the next showing wasn't until 2pm, there were dozens of small children sitting down and waiting in anticipation for the Punch and Judy show to start. Why on earth they like to watch a story about a battered housewife, an abused baby, a dog that runs off with sausages and police brutality is beyond me, but we've all watched the show one time or another and P and J (as I call them) are a seaside tradition.</div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>Monkeh obviously wanted to be part if it all but his little legs couldn't quite make it up so I gave him a helping hand, much to the amusement of some of the waiting children.</div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>I put Monkeh on the "stage" so he could have his photo taken.</div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>"What are you doing with that monkey, missus?" was the question from a little ginger-haired girl whose dress was covered in chocolate and her hair stuck together with bits of her little brother's candy floss.</div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>"Well" I said. "My friend Monkeh wanted to come and audition for the Professor as he would like a starring role in his next show. Do you think he'd be good?"</div><div></div><div><br />"Yesssssss" was the general response by the now several children who had taken interest in my monkey capers.</div><div></div><div></div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>"What's his name?" asked her little brother. "Why, it's Monkeh, you must have seen him on the telly in the tea bag ads," I said.</div><div><br />"Do you mean he's the famous one?" was his reply. "Yes and I think if he doesn't get down from the stage, he might be the famous one who is also in big trouble. " I said.</div><div><br /></div><div>By this time, far too many children were getting far too interested in what I was saying about Monkeh and wanted to meet him and know more about his "role" that he was auditioning for. I made some remark about him being late for his lunch and that the Professor had seen his audition tape and would let him know if he was going to get a part, but as we were in the area anyway, he wanted to see the stage he'd be working on for himself!</div><div></div><div></div><div><br /></div><div>"Oh I hope Monkeh gets the part," piped up the original little girl. "He makes me laugh and he could take the part of the baby."</div><div><br /></div><div></div><div></div><div>Now I'm not one for doing actors (puppets or real ones) out of a job and so I didn't want to encourage false hope. However, I did say as my parting shot that anything was possible and that if Monkeh were to get a part in the show, it would be as himself and not masquerading as a baby.</div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>I took him off the stage and let the little girl give him a cuddle and shake his paw before I headed off feeling totally shameful that the thing I wanted in the first place - (which was to get Monkeh's picture in an interesting location to send to his "Uncle Dave") - should now mean that dozens of kids are going to be shouting out at the next Professor Codlyn show - "We want Monkeh". </div><div> </div><div></div><div>The poor man will not know what has got into them and wonder why on earth they are shouting for a character that is not in his show.</div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>Professor, if you ever get to read this, I'm truly sorry!</div><div></div><div></div><div><br />As for Monkeh, as soon as I'd taken him from the chocolate-covered hands of the little girl with the ginger hair, he was off again - this time seen boarding a bus heading towards the Anglesey Sea Zoo.</div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div> </div><div> </div><div>To find out what he did there, you will have to log in again tomorrow - holidays are certainly not dull when Monkeh's around!!</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159889862915310174.post-75523633545688076642009-07-05T21:38:00.004+01:002009-07-05T21:55:58.924+01:00And Monkeh came too!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEignvd79R9EDSGZUr_6UH9k8v6Mg6U5z3QbsGjNntZOwjmPEeszW9uxJxmdeJGDyNXOSKh2ONyV7yPmlKjp98wfvBI_CgB8bMNzHE4cCVvB8FGsdXF7WGJJP53EwmDoxVtXGH7vkQwdjHUL/s1600-h/DSC00627.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355078519580526050" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEignvd79R9EDSGZUr_6UH9k8v6Mg6U5z3QbsGjNntZOwjmPEeszW9uxJxmdeJGDyNXOSKh2ONyV7yPmlKjp98wfvBI_CgB8bMNzHE4cCVvB8FGsdXF7WGJJP53EwmDoxVtXGH7vkQwdjHUL/s320/DSC00627.JPG" /></a> I bet you have been wondering where I have been? Well, I've had a few days away in lovely North Wales and decided that rather than do a conventional photograph album of pictures of me or the hubby, I'd take Monkeh along so he could experience Wales himself. Boy did he have a good time!<br /><br />Here is the little rascal standing in front of Conway Castle. Built in the 13th Century, it is an amazing building and Monkeh really loved it. He especially liked standing right on the top of the tower and throwing his discarded banana skins at passing tourists!<br /><br />I took him to the harbour where we sat and ate fish and chips between the three of us and in the background, we could hear the strains of singing at a nearby pub. We found out that there was a Blue Grass Festival going on and that is why there were so many people walking around with guitars strapped to their backs.<br /><br />Not so long after we had finished our food, that Monkeh scampered across the road to the pub and insisted on taking the microphone. Then he took the stool and then he robbed the bar of its takings - only kidding, he insisted on singing one of his own songs that he wrote when he was a wee small chimp. The song is called: "I may be made out of wool, but don't make a Monkey of me!!" - er, too late, mate, someone already did.<br /><br />He has been a little sod for running off most of the time we were there. I nipped to go to the loo at an amusement arcade and when I came out, Monkeh was on the roulette wheel placing all of his money on black 17 (seventeen is his lucky number as he was the 17th baby born to his Mum). Of course, it wasn't to be as he lost all of his money and very nearly lost the shirt off his back - if it wasn't for some skilled negotiation on my part, he'd have been walking around with no clothes on.<br /><br />While in Llandudno, we came across a man sitting on a wall near to the pier. He had a lovely little West Highland White dog with him called Bonnie. She was so pretty and I just couldn't resist giving her a stroke. Then her owner started to tell me all about her recent operation.<br /><br />She collapsed a few weeks ago and the Vet said that her heart had packed in so they rushed her into doggie hospital and she had a pace-maker fitted! Yes, a tiny little pacemaker. Now, I am not one to boast, or I could have done by telling this man that a relative (distant and in the US) of mine, actually invented the pacemaker - but it was Bonnie's story, not mine, and I didn't want to take the glory away from her.<br /><br />However, when her owner told me how much it cost to have her made well again, I nearly fell off my platform shoes. Her vet bill came to Five Thousand Pounds!! Luckily, he was insured but had to pay £250 out of his own pocket because the fees had taken her over the limit. She has now got at least 10 good years left before the battery runs out and she didn't half look happy on it.<br /><br />I really like stories like that. Of course, that did not impress Monkeh. While I was talking to Bonnie and her owner, he was off in search of a new adventure and .......<br /><br />Well, I will save it until tomorrow to let you know what he got up to!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159889862915310174.post-41513287303888129692009-05-29T22:14:00.003+01:002009-05-29T23:04:40.813+01:00A lovely day for a lovely lady<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0wK4bxZkYWAguhvUp47Se6R9l55LkONp_IbhkVjKGxjg2I3x37W2LeYTl6ObE2G-7JmOaqDOzJZ1HNyERAm_OP1p_dLrhLA-9xkAULs3CX_JNS0btFynoQxMl0M0sp4adCsuCu62VMRqk/s1600-h/DSC00458.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341357635900679122" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0wK4bxZkYWAguhvUp47Se6R9l55LkONp_IbhkVjKGxjg2I3x37W2LeYTl6ObE2G-7JmOaqDOzJZ1HNyERAm_OP1p_dLrhLA-9xkAULs3CX_JNS0btFynoQxMl0M0sp4adCsuCu62VMRqk/s320/DSC00458.JPG" border="0" /></a> I was back in the homeland today - yes, Stoke.<br /><br />Where people say book like it should be said. Where oatcakes are eaten at every meal and where a duck is not only just a water bird or getting out in cricket and not scoring but also a Stoke term of endearment.<br /><br />It was a glorious day, which I am pleased about because it was the day of Jessie Moston's funeral. My Dad's cousin who died just 30 days shy of her 100th birthday.<br /><br />I went to the funeral today and decided to go up on the train to Stoke because I just couldn't face the M6 on a Friday. I'm glad I did as I felt more relaxed and as I was due to read a eulogy to Jessie, I wanted to be calm as I always get very emotional at funerals.<br /><br />It was nice to meet up with Stan's family (Stan was Jessie's companion for 20 years and he sadly died a few years back leaving Jessie on her own). Stan was the love of Jessie's life and at the funeral today, the Minister said that she often used to tell him when he was her Parish Priest, how much she regretted never marrying Stan.<br /><br />Jessie came to the Church (St. Matthew's, Birches Head) in a beautiful wicker coffin which was draped with flowers, the colour of which took your breath away. I didn't really see much of Jessie after my Dad had died, so I was very pleased to meet Linda Goodwin and her family who were Stan's relatives and who looked after Jessie and her affairs until the day she died.<br /><br />Linda bought some pictures with her today and asked me if I wanted any of them. I took some that had my Great Grandparents on (my Dad's grand parents) and also my great uncles and aunts. It was nice to have something as I don't have many pictures of my Dad's family and there's no-one left around who can tell me about his family, sadly.<br /><br />The funeral service was really nice and I managed to keep it together to read the piece I had written about Jessie. I was sitting on the front row on the end and when I was called up, I had to walk up a couple of steps and read at the lectern. I was a bit nervous, but as soon as I got up there, I was surprisingly relaxed and even managed to get people laughing at some of the things I said.<br /><br />Jessie would have liked the laughter - she had a sense of humour. The one thing I was really scared about, was bumping into the coffin on the way back down the stairs and I did! I slightly touched it with my hip, but thankfully, it didn't knock it over.<br /><br />We stood outside in the sunshine after the service and a couple of people came up to me to say hello as they remembered me from my presenting days on Radio Stoke and they all said how much they missed hearing me on the radio, which was nice! One of them was a former Lord Mayor of Stoke and his wife.<br /><br />I was given a lift in one of the big cars with the family; a seven-seater Jaguar no less. It was lovely. I asked the driver how he felt about taking me back to Coventry later!<br /><br />After the service, we went to the crematorium and then back to The Birches Head Pub (pictured) for sandwiches and tea and that's where I was given the photos.<br /><br />It was nice to be back home, albeit for a short while but tinged with sadness to say farewell to the last link to my Dad's side of the family. However, if Dad had have been alive, he would have done what I did today and said a few words about Jessie, so in a way, I'm glad it was me that did something on his behalf. I basically used stuff from the blog I did about Jessie when I heard she had died and updated it slightly.<br /><br />Once I had said my goodbyes, I got a taxi back to the station to get my train to Coventry and while I was waiting at the counter in the shop to buy a bottle of pop, I saw and spoke to Wendy Turner-Webster (Anthea Turner's sister) and we had a chat and she introduced me to her kids. It was nice to see her as I hadn't spoken to her for years and I told her that I was only with her sister a few weeks back! What a small world.<br /><br />I travelled to Stoke First Class on the train as it was not that much more than standard class and you get a seat and something to eat and drink - I like to do it when I can afford to do it.<br /><br />Hubby picked me up in the car when I got home to Coventry and for the rest of this evening, I've been quite mellow. I guess funerals do that to you, make you look at your life and compared to what Jessie fitted into her first 46 years, I've done nothing!<br /><br />I was going to mention something about watching "Britain's Got Talent" tonight, but I won't because I found the whole thing very disturbing.<br /><br />All I want to say is that it is fine for kids to take part in talent shows, but this was just car crash TV tonight watching the little girl plead for another go because she cocked it up first time and then they put her through to the final!! Gawd knows what she's going to be like tomorrow. I am not going to put myself through the ordeal of watching it live - I'll record it and whizz through the uncomfortable bits, especially if it means witnessing dumpy Divas, groaning Grandads and Crying Kids all over the place.<br /><br />Britain's got Talent, Britain's Got Schmalent! If Jessie was still alive, she would have auditioned for it playing her recorder!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159889862915310174.post-48175614335576104162009-05-03T13:07:00.005+01:002009-05-03T13:58:56.180+01:00Farewell Jessie - a grand woman<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlvRIMU5HGJJg-sJDgKxDK2_3I-w4qrB7WgSTj9H8kvou1baLaXAwOYpYrc_9cd8pAc7mRGeA1NU44BgOHg7c07PvIu9yduHglAwTYFQ3rPNjOuAc5jvUIkCtDXLwIeVwkfhtpnxAiMBlX/s1600-h/DSC00381.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331568326988031138" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlvRIMU5HGJJg-sJDgKxDK2_3I-w4qrB7WgSTj9H8kvou1baLaXAwOYpYrc_9cd8pAc7mRGeA1NU44BgOHg7c07PvIu9yduHglAwTYFQ3rPNjOuAc5jvUIkCtDXLwIeVwkfhtpnxAiMBlX/s320/DSC00381.JPG" border="0" /></a> It is a sombre start to my blog today as I had some sad news. Jessie <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Moston</span> (right) died peacefully in her sleep on Friday night aged 99 and 335 days old.<br /><br />So instead of everyone planning for her birthday party, there are now plans for a funeral.<br /><br />Jessie was part of my extended family. I've known her all my life. Her Mum was married to my Great Uncle, so although she was no blood relative, she had been part of the family <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">ever since</span> she was 14.<br /><br />Jessie never married. She was an <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">independent</span> woman. Very intelligent and the kind of woman who did not want to be pigeon-holed. She was a Head Teacher in her younger days, she was one of the first women to hold the seat of a Councillor on the city council in Stoke, she was Chair of the Arts Committee and was one of the people instrumental in bringing about the building of the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Hanley</span> Museum and Art Gallery which holds one of the best ceramic collections in the world.<br /><br />Jessie was also an accomplished musician, linguist, raconteur, artist and traveller. She was well travelled and was not afraid to seek out new adventures. She rode camels in Egypt, busked in the street with her recorder (at the age of 95) and defied the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">constraints</span> of her generation by "living in sin" with Stan, the man she loved until he died.<br /><br />I have fond memories of Jessie. She used to come to ours with her sister Gladys and when Jessie and my Dad locked horns about politics, Jessie always had the upper hand. Jessie was a Labour supporter and Dad a Conservative.<br /><br />Jessie and Stan went to America in 1991 to attend my brother's wedding and was such a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">sprightly</span> 80 something year old, she didn't look her age.<br /><br />She was a true lady. When Gladys died, she gave me £1,000 which went towards my wedding fund which she said, she wanted to do as she didn't need Gladys' money. The rest, she gave away to charity.<br /><br />I last saw Jessie in 2008 when I went to visit her at the care home she went to near Longton when she could no longer look after herself. I was shocked to see how frail and little she was and even though her memory was not the best, every-so-often, she'd have a flashback and she remembered that I used to sing and work for a radio station and that she'd been invited to attend my wedding, but was not well enough to travel.<br /><br />Jessie had a wonderful life, so I'm not going to be sad about what we've lost, but celebrate about what she had. She worked hard all her life and she did things other women of her generation could only have dreamed about.<br /><br />She was a pioneer in local government, education and culture. She gave so much of her spare time in her younger days to help others and instead of taking a camera with her on her travels, she'd take a sketch book and bring home with her a unique record of her round the world adventures.<br /><br />When God made Jessie, he built one to last. It's just such a pity she couldn't have lasted a little bit longer so see her 100<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">th</span> birthday, but she made it into her 100<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">th</span> year, which is no mean feat.<br /><br />Also, when you think of what Jessie has seen in her lifetime, it's quite daunting. Advances in Science and Technology and supersonic travel. The first man on the moon, Two World Wars, the first woman PM in the UK and the first ever Black <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">President</span> of the USA. The bringing down of the Berlin Wall, the death of Hitler, Stalin and Mussolini. She's lived through 5 reigning Monarchs, been around for at least 17 different Prime Ministers and the one that is most important to Jessie - she was born at a time when women did not have the right to vote, which when you think about how a majority of Jessie's life was centred around politics, was unthinkable!<br /><br />If Jessie's lifespan were to have been calculated as a whole day - she was born at midnight and died at 23.59 - so near and yet so far.<br /><br />RIP Jessie. You will be missed.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159889862915310174.post-52157930245082686232009-04-24T20:42:00.005+01:002009-04-24T22:32:33.161+01:00Sweets I have loved..<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0O1cDovtOd83g4YRLKPSkKAz339AcvMCdxWrQZxzEmMZOOzFNEVzDVRkPqb-WFQxJo4HSpCw0WdRrwVLwgsp6FWFd3xBVqyth7GyKg7YrAuW0uTvuWydB7Dbh1nU1NN1DPLmmedOgUBz6/s1600-h/black-jacks431x300.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328346066221618274" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 223px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0O1cDovtOd83g4YRLKPSkKAz339AcvMCdxWrQZxzEmMZOOzFNEVzDVRkPqb-WFQxJo4HSpCw0WdRrwVLwgsp6FWFd3xBVqyth7GyKg7YrAuW0uTvuWydB7Dbh1nU1NN1DPLmmedOgUBz6/s320/black-jacks431x300.jpg" border="0" /></a> At the pub quiz the other night, my friend Katie pulled out a packet of sweets. They were Fruit Salad.<br /><br />My eyes lit up. "ooh I love these" I told her and she then said something which made my night..."I've got some black jacks at home, I'll bring them in for you."<br /><br />Black jacks. I loved these more than I loved the Fruit Salad. Not only did they taste great, but they made your tongue black. When I was little my Mum used to hide them from me so I wouldn't eat them before my tea. However, I did used to find them and was forever licking my tongue out to her just to show her that I had been eating them! That's the kind of rebel I was when I was younger - I were reet mad, me! In't black jacks brilliant?<br /><br />Anyway, true to her word, Katie bought me a packet of sweets in and I sat there and with them on my desk and once opened, I had passed the point of no return. I obviously offered them round to everyone in the office but I think I might have said it in a very low voice because no-one wanted one (YES!)<br /><br />I am thinking of bringing out a book called "Sweets I have loved" and the Black Jack would definitely be in there along with Spangles, Tutti Frutti and the Milk Tray bar (you know, the chocolate bar that had seven or so different chocolates in the one bar. They don't do them any more) I also remember the Aztec bar - that was nice.<br /><br />As I said in an earlier blog, my brother was very canny when it came to sweets as he knew that I used to gobble all mine down quite quickly and so he would save his and then sell them to me later - he was a right spiv.<br /><br />I've just been speaking to him actually on the Skype thing. It's great to be able to see him and speak to him in real time. He was telling me something that I was absolutely shocked by... it is twenty years since he went to the US of A to seek his fame and fortune.<br /><br />Yes, twenty years since I took him to the bus station in Hanley, Stoke -on- Trent and said my goodbyes to him and his two friends who were also going to try their luck in the US. I remember giving his friend, Phil, a kiss goodbye and my brother was quite shocked with the way Phil and I got carried away! I just reminded him of that... "oh yes, bloody hell!" was his response.<br /><br />Back to my topic of the night - sweets. I used to go to Stoke market on a Saturday morning and buy a quarter of chocolate buttons with bits on - loved them. I also used to get sherbet from the shop opposite my Nan's house and it came with a stick of liquorice. Mmm, is it any wonder I am built this way? Guess not. Sweets have been a big part of my life.<br /><br />I could just fill this blog with the names of sweets that I like - apart from those horrible sweets that taste of violets and anything with marzipan in it - I haven't met a sweet I didn't like!<br /><br />When I used to work at the city council in Birmingham, I was fortunate enough to have a space in the underground council car park - it used to drive one particular radio presenter in the area mad to think that this parking space was there for the councillors and officers to use!<br /><br />One morning, I parked my car there and bumped into a well-known local person who was on one of our Scrutiny Committees. I had met him on several occasions but never really had a decent chat to him and so I thought that as I was in the car park and we were both walking in the same direction, I would introduce myself.<br /><br />I started off by thanking him for making me the shape I was....he was the reason why I was shaped like a barrel - the man in question was Sir Adrian Cadbury, no less! He probably won't remember this - we are talking well over 10 years ago and you name me one person who can remember a conversation with a near stranger in an underground car park from all those many years back. However, I remember it and that's all that matters.<br /><br />I am going to nail my flag to the mast now and say, hand on heart, that you just can't beat Cadbury's chocolate. It is divine. It is the best tasting chocolate in the world. Who told the Swiss and the Belgians that their chocolate was the best? Not I. Only if I'm desperate would I eat their chocolate.<br /><br />However, coming up fast on the inside lane is a recent find - ALDI chocolate. Yes, GERMAN Aldi Chocolate. My Dad would be spinning in his grave to think that I preferred German chocolate to British but even my friends at work had to concede that Aldi chocolate was nice and if you were to come into our office on any day of the week, you will find a general assortment of sweets, chocolates and cakes - we are connoisseurs.<br /><br /><br /><p align="justify">Sweets are no good for you but why do they taste so good? Why can't the things that are bad for you taste horrible and the things that are good for you taste nice - you got it slightly wrong there G-Man but then if we all ate what was good for us, the Government would have a dickie fit at not being able to preach to us, so I'm doing them a favour by single-handedly keeping the economy going on the sweet front and helping the sweet industry to ride the recession. </p><p align="justify"> </p><p align="justify">Will I get a mention in the Queen's birthday honours for my hard work? I doubt it but I can go to bed at night safe in the knowledge that over the years, I've kept the nation's sweet shops going when all other establishments sans bon bons have fallen by the wayside.</p><p align="justify"> </p><p align="justify">Recession, what recession -it's 2009, it's supper time and I'm 'aving a curly wurly.</p><p align="justify"> </p><p align="justify">This is Gene Hunt signing off.</p><p></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0