Right up our street

Warning, this blog post contains low flying ducks

Having both grown up with Coronation Street, on hearing the studio tours were going to close as the sets have moved to a new location, me and my little swamp duck felt it our duty to visit. So popular are the tours, that we could only manage to book for a Sunday evening. Oh well, off we set in the car through the backstreets of Manchester, past all the betting shops, takeaways and pubs with Weatherfield beckoning. No worries for us if we had any car troubles, I happen to know there's a very fine mechanic resident on the street. I'm sure Kev, a heartthrob (for some) when I was at school, would give it the once over.

We arrive, we sort out our tickets and spend an extortionate amount on a hot chocolate and ham and cheese sandwich, we receive our backstage passes.

Inside we find the green room, the costume and make up, actual costumes and studio sets. So small! The trickery of camerawork and wide angle lenses is amazing. Also - the stairs in the Platt household don't go anywhere. Apparently when a cast member goes upstairs, they just have to stay at the top of the stairs until the filming finishes. David Platt's character said (so the guide told us) he spent most of his childhood waiting at the top. You can sometimes spot a foot, I'm going to look out for feet from now on.

It was pretty cool, and and, we got to see a pair of Deirdre Barlow's spectacles - legend.

No photos allowed inside, although we did sneak a selfie in the Rovers. When called for our photo behind the bar, two shots - one pulling a pint, the other a quick kiss! I pulled the best barmaid! Unfortunately that photo came out blurry so we didn't purchase it. When we kissed, all the other people on the tour went  "Ahhh" very sweet! We were very careful for the rest of the tour though, Corrie being renowned for bumping off lesbian characters.

Then we were out on the cobbles, in the actual street. All the doors, all the shop fronts, even the bus stop. Loved that the bus




destination was 'Eccles'.

We saw it all, the Chippy, the salon, the pub, the Bistro, the Kebab shop, everything. It was a great night on the cobbles. The gift shop was in the medical centre, where you could even buy  - yes you guessed it, flying duck fridge magnets.

Release the hounds of hell[o] I’d like to lick your face!

I love autumn, I love the colours, I love the surprise sunny days, I love the first week after the clocks change and it feels like a lie in every morning. And I love halloween.

Halloween didn’t start so well this year.

• Pumpkins purchased - tick
• Teen has full address for party (with instructions) - tick
• Outfit for teen established - tick
• Treats purchased - tick
• Pumpkins stored in a sensible space so they are still fresh for carving, like the fridge for example - err, about that

Apparently, placing the pumpkins on the windowsill to look all lovely and autumnal for the week leading up to Halloween is not the best idea. This is because the windowsill is directly above a radiator. It would appear that it’s really hard to tell that a pumpkin has started to ‘go over’ as a only small hole appears in the base, the outer pumpkin looks all fine and dandy, all the gunk seeps slowly out, covering the windowsill and dribbles quietly down the back of the radiator. Only to be discovered when you pick up said pumpkin for carving. Delightful (not).

Fortunately one pumpkin was fine, the rotting one - I retrieved half of it, enough for a rough lantern type effect.

Left with time and motivation to be pumpkin creative, I got in touch with my inner Day of the Dead Mexican persona. It’s at times like this, my lino cutting tools come in handy.

Time to collect offspring from work, then get ready for the onslaught of small people demanding sugar based confectionary. Inspired by the transformation of teen into A from the TV show Pretty Little Liars, and my pumpkin, I thought - why stop the inner Mexican inspiration at a mere pumpkin. Using supermarket face paints, I think I did an OK job.

It certainly scared the children who came to call, or it may have been the screaming at the top of our lungs when the doorbell rang "release the hounds of hell" flinging the door open and screaming some more. Stamping really loudly was also a favoured way off getting to the door. Asking which one [child] would be the tastiest went down very well. The responses ranged from "You're scary" to nervous giggling. I heard one child potter off to another group of tricksters and say "go there, that woman's scary." We ran out of treats fairly swiftly.

The dogs went mad every time the doorbell rang, barking like wild beasts, however, as soon as they saw the children, they jumped up and received all the cuddles and admiration. Hounds of Hell? Hardly. Canines of cute more like.

Only one question remains, how does one clean rotting pumpkin liquid stains from behind a radiator?

The Great Bakewell Bake Off

A blog post about baking you you say? 


Well here you are.

It was my Birthday on Friday, and as it fell on a Friday, I considered that a valid reason to stretch out the celebrations for the entire weekend. It was lunch AND dinner out on Friday, dragging offspring along the Monsal Trail on a bike on Saturday, so a trip to the local Baking festival on Sunday was a given really.

I've not attended a baking festival before, I'd not even seen a live cooking show before, with no knowledge of what to expect, we arrive in the show grounds in Bakewell. A very apt. name for the location of a Baking festival.

We get through the gate with a very precursory check of the ticket on my phone to be greeted with stalls selling food, coffee, vintage crockery, clothing and of course an 'invaluable' kit for peeling garlic.

We greet Maisie's friend and her family and head to the theatre cooking show. Stacie Stewart of Master Chef fame was first up.  A clean living eating fanatic who now only eats raw broccoli and anything with antitoxins in it. She's lost 4 stone you know. Anyway, she wrote a book about proper baking 4 year's ago so will be demonstrating from that book rather than the book about being a good vegan that hasn't been published yet. She was fairly engaging with the audience, told some amusing stories about her Nan teaching her cooking and her mum saying she prefers going to Gregs.

Then time to walk round the food stalls. We try various cheeses (caramelised onion was a winner) ginger bread, parkin, rape seed oils (If I'm honest that tasted like the smell of massage oil), jam, and maybe a bit more cheese. We scoff a nice pork baguette whilst sat an a hay bail and avoided the wasps. We survey the games available. Quite tempted to have a go at splat the rat but Maisie moved me away.

We catch the end of Edd Kimber (@theboywhobakes) and wait for the next theatre performance Ms Marmite (@msmarmitelover). We liked the look of Edd, he made what looked like a lovely battenberg cake, a favourite, and has an obvious passion for sugar and baking. At question time, I resisted the urge to ask "what was it like being so close to Sue Perkins and do you have her phone number?" 

We scoot up to the front of the tent for Ms Marmite. Famous for developing the home restaurant concept in the UK. Inviting your mates round for dinner and charging them.  She was great. A real person with a desire to feed people. In fact, she made a valiant attempt to provide the entire audience with a lemon curd injected donut. With the help from her daughter, she chatted and chatted, and fashioned loads of donuts. Rather than the 30 minutes from the other bakers, we had the whole hour full of cooking theatre. To our delight, Maisie got a donut...mmm donuts. Ms Marmite would be welcome to come round to our house for tea is ever in the area, I'd only charge her a tenner!

However, not everyone in the tent was impressed. Ms Stewart was waiting stage left to come on next. Ooh, a bit of drama. Her face was a picture. She was not happy about the timing. Sadly for us, Ms Marmite finally finished her donuts and blondie cake, and was shuffled of the stage. A rapid tidy up was executed and Ms I'm a proper healthy vegan was back on stage. I think I would have liked her better if she hadn't mentioned being able to deliver her cooking presentation within the time (in a passive aggressive way). I also think I would have liked her better if she had baked the food she was passionate about, not the food she doesn't eat anymore. I'm a firm believer in being who you are. 

Well, after all that drama, a quick look at some cakes was needed, a taste of some Japanese tea and back for more Edd. A healthy debate about the pronunciation of scone. Obviously you pronounce it scone. And if to put the cream or the jam on first. The jam obviously. Edd disagreed. Boo.

The finale was a chocolate creator based in Castleton. Good to have a local, and refreshing to see someone not selling their latest book. Good stuff.

Time to come home and shout 'bake' 

Archie (or for short - Archibaldi Garibaldi Biscuit Boy)

It was raining

The dogs needed walking

We set off at a pace, not wanting to be out for too long.

Archie went off to explore in the long grass, me and Mollie stride off ahead.

He was taking his time to catch up, I call, no sign. I look back and what looks like some comedy puppet dog is stumbling along sitting, then kind of hopping around a bit. 

On closer inspection, he has got tangled up with giant burrs from the burdock. They were stuck like Velcro all over his body, mainly his legs and tummy. One had kind of velcrowed his front leg to his chest, hence his strange hobbling gait. I started pulling the burrs off, he squealed with each one poor little wimpy thing he is. At the last one, he leapt free almost clicking his heals together and skipping off! He came back to me, gave a little bark, I stroked his head and he was off again. Sooo cute!

Interesting fact...the inventor of Velcro developed it after noticing the burrs attaching to his dog. Archie is following the tradition of dogs wherever burdock grows apparently.

Rhode trip

So we were sat on a plane full of "Sweaty Pommies" as Leanne described it, destination Pefkos, on the Greek isle of Rhodes. 

Objectives: To lie around, read books, catch some rays. swim, eat olives, eat feta, eat stuffed vine leaves, eat kleftikos, you get the idea. (Oh yes and maybe drink the odd beer)

Equipment packed: swimming goggles, snorkel, three pairs of shorts, several t-shirts, togs, sunscreen and Uno.

Risks: Being detained by the metal detector at the air port.

Well. That happened.

Actually it always happens, to me anyway. Typical scenario. Put possessions in tray, hope trousers don't fall down due to lack of belt, try to get bracelet off. Fail to get bracelet off. Security person says just go through that will be fine.

*ALARM*ALARM*ALARM*

Madam if you can just step to one side. Well, this time it was the most intimate body pat down ever. I felt bad I didn't know the woman's first name. So intimate even, that she could tell I was wearing a sports bra for goodness sake!

Anyway...moving on.

Airport uneventful, flight the same, the longest slowest bus journey designed to give us the impression Rhodes is bigger than it actually is. 

Greeted by Paul the Greek from Michigan, reassured us he was actually Greek and a lovely holiday was had by all.

Voting status

Post vote thumbs up

I shared on Facebook, twitter (@rachelmcw) and instagram (rachelmcw) that I've voted, it's important not to waste one's chance of bragging about voting on social media...so thought I'd best blog about it. I could Snapchat, but my only friend on Snapchat is my daughter so it seemed a bit like overkill - she knew we were going off to vote as she saw us potter off down the road.

Here's a blow by blow account of how it all went for me.

We gather up the dogs, we walk to the polling station, I enter said polling station to cast my votes.

My conversation with the returning officer goes like this:

RO: "Which Collier-Wilson are you, Leanne or Rachel?

Me: "I'm Rachel, Leanne is outside with the dogs"

Leanne's conversation with the returning officer goes like this:

post vote stupid grin

L: I'm Leanne Collier-Wilson"

RO: Ooh, we've just had a Collier-Wilson in"

L: Yes, she's outside with the dogs"

Artist's impression of my vote

Quick question - do the returning officers also count the votes?

As a bonus I got a compliment for reading the instructions and putting the white voting slip into the box which said "white voting slips" 

Now I just need to stay awake...feeling sleepy as it's just gone 10 pm.

Some of my best friends are gay allies

Well I know this was a work thing but I’m going to write about my attendance at the Stonewall Workforce Conference 2015 anyway.

I was excited to have been asked to go. I go along to the University of Sheffield LGBT network group on a regular basis, I tweet the occasional words of wisdom from the account and I think I’m a pretty good role model. I promised to “live tweet” from the network twitter account @TUoSLGBT throughout the day. I not actually sure if there are any other ways to do this apart from “live” but hey - sounds good.

I was excited on a personal level as it would be the first professional conference I was to attend where you can pretty much guarantee, that as a vaguely butch lesbian, I would not be in the minority. I was confident I would even be able to go to the loo without receiving the funny look or even the challenge “do you know this is the ladies?”

An early start to catch the 7 am train. The day started well as I was treated to a glorious sunrise while driving across the moors towards Chesterfield. I was also warmly greeted on the train by a Sheffield colleague, whom I hadn’t met  before, based in HR. We were hopefully meeting up with another colleague who was travelling from a different starting point. 

We arrived in London, we wandered out the tube and headed off in the exact opposite direction as I’m using my phone to navigate, quickly rectified and we arrived at the venue - the Queen Elizabeth II Conference Centre.

I was not disappointed, lots of lovely short back and sided lesbians to make me feel I belong. Not only was it OK to go to the loo, but of course there was a gender neutral toilet just in case! This was Stonewall’s first ever trans-inclusive conference, making it all feel rather wholesome. It’s important to remember the T in LGBT and one of the things I took away was a reminder of the important distinction that the T is about gender identity and the LGB is about sexual orientation. The two however can fit together well to drive forward the diversity and inclusivity agenda.

Ruth Hunt et al on stage - my tweet behind on the wall

I sat and listened in wonder. First up was Ruth Hunt, a wonderful speaker, extremely engaging, and pretty hot! She spoke of the great steps we had taken towards inclusion, but even with equal marriage, we can still be spat at in the street. It’s a long time since that’s happened to me, I’m incredibly privileged to work in a University that's got good policy for Diversity and Inclusivity, I’ve a lovely family and live in a neighbourhood where, to date, there hasn’t been anyone opposed to our sexual identities. But that’s not to say it won’t happen again, of that I am fully aware.

One thing I found, is that Stonewall do a lot of work through personal stories and experiences. I think this is an excellent way of getting a message out, nobody can resist or challenge an account of someone's feelings. 

I enjoyed the session how to be a good LGBT role model, sat next to a lovely gay Mexican, we had to exchange personal stories. We parted at the end of the session with him sending kisses to my lovely wife and daughter - how cool is that! You don’t get that at library systems conferences that’s for sure.

We caught up with our other Sheffield  colleague. She reported that she thought she had seen me earlier, I must have a double…what - another woman with a short back and sides with glasses, here, what were the chances!

Final keynotes - still a packed auditorium, you don't get that at the end of the day at library conferences either.

Benny Higgins, the CEO of Tesco’s Bank gave a powerful and inspirational talk.  He focussed on the people and their value transcending everything else. He rolled out the Oscar Wilde quote “Be yourself as everyone else is taken” and read a poem by George the Poet with such conviction it left quite a few in tears. (In a good way). Pretty good stuff for a banker.

Last up on the podium was Ayla Holdom. Britain’s first transgender pilot. She started by saying she was just a simple pilot, but my goodness she is so much more. She sent out a strong message about being authentic. To stop apologising and comment positively. She was seen as being mentally unstable by The Sun, she said she wasn’t mentally unstable, had a certificate to prove it, she was just trans. I didn’t actually write any notes whilst she was talking, I was too wound up in her amazingness, her touching personal account, her words. Simple actions are important. A standing ovation and this time not a dry eye to be seen.

#EqualAtWork 

Quotes that stuck in my mind

“A workplace that successfully engages with workforce is 20% more successful”

“LGBT allies can have a huge impact on inclusivity”

“Nothing about us, without us”

“There is power in that individual story”

There was a lovely sunset when I drove back over the moors, and my lovely female family waiting with pizza and wine.  Kisses delivered from the gay Mexican. Possibly the best day I’ve had at work for a long time.

The view from the loo! (well - the hand washing bit)

How can you tell if librarians like cake?

Well you hold a bake sale and make over £160* for Comic Relief of course!

There's much to be excited about in a library environment when there's talk of a bake sale... well mainly the availability of cake and maybe the odd biscuit. A colleague enlisted my help with a Comic Relief bake sale. I was delighted, I could dress up in the style of Sue Perkins and eat cake (guilt free) all day! 

Unfortunately, I was suffering from a cold... fortunately the lovely offspring was more than happy to bake some biscuits. We thought biscuits in a bag so they could be transported home and consumed at a convenient time - and we included a free joke. High quality jokes about biscuits are, as it happens, plentiful. 

For example:
Which biscuit singer sang Dancing on the Ceiling? 
Lionel RichTea!

Classic. Who wouldn't pay a £1 for the joke alone?

As people delivered their offerings to us in the morning, I was aware we needed to be mindful of nuts. When a colleague presented an orange and almond cake I did, to my embarrassment, ask... "does it contain nuts?" He looked at me as if I was nuts and said "Yes - almonds!" In my defence, it was early and we were being overwhelmed by cake deliveries! (The cake was delicious btw).

We baked, we had photos of the bakers in red noses on the wall and we had bunting. People were surprisingly excited by the bunting. "Ooh look, bunting," led me to think we need more bunting in our lives, well in the tea room at least. We had a little bit of rivalry with another library site who had organised a quiz. I think that may even have accused us of having soggy bottoms, but all in good fun. It felt like a good community event and we ate loads of cake (not just me). There was a spotty cake, a spotty tablecloth and, I suspect, spotty complexions after all that sugar, butter and chocolate. But who cares? All for a good cause.

*full amount to be verified next week.

What's his name? Chess, like the board game Chess.

We had to say goodbye to our lovely Chess earlier this year.

It was a privilege to have had such a lovely, fun, calming, good natured dog in our lives. 

When we first adopted him, he was a rescue from greyhound racing, we had to teach him everything about living in a house. He had never even been up stairs before. He soon settled into family life though and was always a pleasure to take for walk. 

He amused us with his collecting. When he was left on his own, he would collect household objects - including mandarins and items of clothing - and sit with them in his bed. There was the one time though which gave us a bit of a scare....

We came into the lounge one afternoon and had a small panic, there was a little bit of 'dissaray' in the lounge, and a chewed up bit of fur on the rug. Oh my goodness we thought, he's killed a cat! But no - our daughter had been gifted a possum tail (a strange gift I know, but this was in NZ where possums are to be discouraged). Chess had found this and obviously thought it was an excellent game to toss this around the lounge and chew and pounce on it. Soon after, we purchased him 'Mr Cuddles' a rope toy which looked like a monkey. He was obviously now relaxed enough to allow himself to play. He loved Mr Cuddles. 

Chess also loved pizza night and the leftover crusts, he loved a glass of wine (if one was left unattended that is), loved bananas, bacon, especially chicken and his family. He struggled on the ice (it seemed he had too many legs), his farts could clear a room and taking him for a walk in the rain was similar to taking a sulky teenager anywhere - until you turned to go home that is.

He wasn't much use as a guard dog, he loved people and was always excited to see anyone at the door - some one else to lean on. EXCEPT...if you were travelling by hot air balloon. Chess didn't bark much, so it was of great surprise one afternoon, when Chess was barking frantically at the window. On closer inspection, there was a hot air balloon, flying really low over the street. This was obviously very disconcerting to Chess. We took him outside to watch the balloon landing safely on the neighbouring cricket pitch. This didn't reassure him much but at least the 'perceived' danger had passed.

To watch him run was amazing

RIP Thrilling Chess

14/1/2005 - 9/1/2015