Summer Bumper Issue - includes free gift

We have...been to the seaside, admired puffins, won big time on a penny push machine, been on a boat, got a new kitchen, lost a dearly loved cat, there must be something else? Now what is it? Oh yes, that’s it, the whole entire country has gone Olympics mad. We went to the most hot ticketed event of the entire games, New Zealand v. Belarus football match. 

The Puffin bit

The best puffin photo we took

Puffins are very small and hard to photograph. I had an idea I would be able to sit and draw one...not a chance. Darting around, getting mixed up with other sea birds it was hard to even photograph one. But - it was so exciting, none of us have seen puffins before, so if felt like a great achievement to spot some. We were also delighted by the gannets, less enamoured by the smell and satisfied the weather was really kind.

A Lancashire Belle on the Yorkshire one!

The boat bit

All aboard the Yorkshire Belle, I'm actually a Lancashire Belle, but I kept that quiet and they let me on anyway. The YB is a lovely little boat commissioned by the RSPB to take enthusiastic twitchers out to see the sea birds that hang out at Bempton Cliffs from the sea side perspective.

Encouraged by the fact that all the women volunteers had puffin earrings, we were hopeful of actually seeing some. We were not disappointed, there were more sea birds than you can actually shake a bit of seaweed at. We had seen them earlier from the cliff side, but now we could see loads of puffins bobbing along on the water.

Maisie with 'winnings'

The winning bit

In NZ you don't really have the traditional sea side gambling opportunities that amusement arcades offer. Not wanting Maisie to miss out on an important part of her upbringing - beginner gambling, we ventured into an arcade on Bridlington's seafront. After converting a pound coin into 2 pence pieces (it's used to be a penny in my day - 100% inflation) we were all set to fritter it away.

We were delighted when Maisie won a lovely dolphin keyring. Who said gambolling doesn't pay.

The home improvements bit

We have a new kitchen, it's vey exciting and a million times better than the old one.

r.i.p. Weka (on the right) 

The sad bit

We were all fairly traumatised by the loss of our lovely little Weka cat. He was unfortunate enough to be hit by a car. Such a lovely cat, adored by the whole family he was even great mates with the dog. He was a regular on walks with the dog and would dash in between his legs and taunt him a little on the way.

He would always find a patch of light or a warm spot to sleep. He had a bath tap water habit and would explore any box bag surface he could find.

The unavoidable olympics bit

After various people had finished jogging round the countryside with a torch, it came time for the Olympics. However, Leanne had secured tickets for a footballing event which took place before the opening as there are so many fixtures to get in. We went to see New Zealand verses Belarus at Coventry City f.c. 

It was a great atmosphere, chatty security guards, entertaining crowd warm up by throwing giant balls into the crowd which we were expected to have a game of keep up with (Maisie's favourite bit!) and exhilarating football. Several 'Great British' waves and a pie. 

I lied about the free gift.

Can anyone smell burning?

Torch tôrCH:  

1. A portable light produced by the flame of a stick of resinous wood or of a flammable material wound about the end of a stick of wood; a flambeau. 

2. A gold coloured piece of metal, fashioned into what looks like a boy racer exhaust pipe, which, when lit, can bring cities to a stand still and inspire flag waving from all parts of the community. 

Yes, I have seen the light. Yes, I waved a flag. Yes, it was exciting. I even high fived a police officer on a motor bike, yes at my age. I could have done without the commercialisation of the whole thing with a giant coke sponsored truck at the beginning of the torch party (i didnt get any fizzy pop) and the mobile phone truck, no not giving out phones but flags ( I got one of those). But the atmosphere on an (unusually) sunny Monday night, stood by the side of the road, waiting for some one in a white track suite to run past with a torch was well worth staying at work for an extra hour and wandering out the door.  The bonus of being outside the university was the available WiFi, me and my work mate could live stream the torch cam, so sunshine, crowd banter, expectation and geeky ness. Cool.

Handy print out and keep guide to how not to camp

1. If the weather looks like this on the way, those clouds are not going to blow over, TURN BACK NOW.

2. DO NOT take a dog to oversee proceedings with a disdainful, long face.

3. ALWAYS be familiar with your tent i.e. don't buy it months earlier, leave it in the bag and expect to be able to assemble it quickly whilst rainclouds are threatening. Otherwise you will need to consult the instructions again, again and ...again.

4. DO NOT allow the dog to think it was all for his benefit.

5. DO NOT allow the dog to help cook the evening meal.

6. If your destination looks like this, ask if there is an available caravan for hire. If your pitch site looks like this after you have packed up, please go to the doctors as you may have trench foot.

PRINT OUT THIS HANDY GUIDE AND KEEP IT WITH YOUR TENT

Scared crows?

It the time of year where Derbyshire goes a little crazy. If it isn't pulling petals off flowers and sticking them in clay to make well dressings; gathering up bits and bobs from the bottom of kitchen cupboards, presenting them on a table and calling it a jumble sale or antique fair; it's fashioning old shirts and trousers into scarecrows and displaying them on your front lawn for passers by to admire.

Leanne was driving round with my father, and they spotted a couple of scarecrows in the north of the county. I was amused when I heard that the one with crazy hair, pink cheeks  and bright red lips started moving and was, in fact , one of the locals.

We decided to be a little subversive and make a scary, slightly demented-looking bunting-stealing corgi - like you do. I have fond memories of the 1977 jubilee celebrations, I still have the mug somewhere. So it was with a bit of guilty pleasure, that I decided to join in with the bunting-displaying monarch-loving royalist neighbours. There are queens that I do love, have loved, but that's another story.

Armed with an empty Budweiser box and a roll of brown packing tape, Maisie and I managed to fashion a dogish looking thing. It needed work but the basic shape was there. With a carefully carved bit of polystyrene we made the head. When I say carefully, I mean haphazardly hacked with a kitchen knife. 

After more sticky tape, an extension to the body, a few coats of paint and newspaper, lots of glue, more paint, a few bits of fabric...TA DA! A beautiful corgiesque creation to grace our lawn. We made some bunting and positioned it in pride of place in the front garden.

Subsequently, we have been enjoying looking at peoples’ amusement when they spot our corgi (her name is now Queenie, according to Maisie). Some passers-by have taken photos and everything. We have also enjoyed looking round the village for other scarecrows. The Queen is a popular choice, but we seem to have made the only dog. 

Our subversive dog creation paid off. We won 'most original' in the Sacrecrow Competition - a £10 voucher for the local garden centre! Yay! I'm expecting a commission for a sculpture from Chatsworth any day now.

Woof!

Out of the Book Closet

Sheffield Pride and I'd volunteered to do an hour on the University of Sheffield LGBT Network stall. So I dragged Leanne, Maisie, Maisie's friend and the dog into town to help me be an out and proud librarian. I had borrowed a library t-shirt to wear with pride, and negotiated to have library pencils and "I love my Librarian" beer mats to give away. 

We queued to get in, paid our money, and dashed to the portaloos whilst they were still clean. In fact I think I may have even been the first one to use the one I was in it was so clean and nice smelling.  Time to wander round aimlessly and decide if we want to buy a rainbow branded tie/belt/flag/badge/frizby/hat. We of course end up at the sweet stall and bought coconut mushrooms and fudge, that well known health snack combo. The dog liked the mushrooms.

I then needed to go talk to my public. I dutifully stood at the stall and made small talk with a whole variety of people, more interested in what free stuff they could get than applying for a degree at the University. The pink library pencils were very popular, as were the "some people are gay, get over it" stickers from stonewall. It was fun chatting to the students from the LGBT society who shared the stall and the other network members.    I finished up on the stall, a bit more wandering, listened to the really loud music emanating from several tents and meandered up out of the park back to the car. We also had a mission to go to a camping store and get sleeping bags for our imminent camping trip.  Two camp shows in one day! 

Bang went the theory

We succeeded in scoring tickets for the 'bang goes the theory' live stage show. It's a show that makes science interesting, fun, loud and appealing for all age groups. The adolescents and the adults all quite excited. We were not disappointed. The presenters had a quirky fun style, with jokes for young and old, and there were some satisfying bangs. The whole 'theme' was, was rocket power better than human power, culminating in a man v rocket football kicking contest. They invited a dad shaped volunteer from the audience to kick a football into a net. Describing him as the pinnacle of human evolution, he just looked like an ordinary Sheffield bloke in trackies and a football shirt to me. He did a good job of belting the ball unfortunately over the net. His second attempt was on goal, and the ball was traveling around 47 miles / hour. Pretty impressive. Less impressive was he lost all his change out of his pocket, and him and the presenters were scrabbling around on stage to retrieve it!  Then came the rocket powered football boot. A rocket was if ignited at the end of a tunnel, it whizzed along the tunnel, propelling a boot mounted strategically on a block, which rammed into the ball. The ball, on target, flew into the back of the net, whilst the city hall gradually filled up with smoke. All very dramatic. But, rocket power was not victorious, only 36 miles / hour. 

I learnt you can kick a ball faster than a rocket can because only a fraction of rocket power can be transformed into energy, and if you intend to volunteer to kick a ball on stage in front of hundreds of people, wear suitable trousers.

Not such a shambles

Last saturday in North Yorkshire and it's raining. What can you do in North Yorkshire, in the rain with two teenage girls and an octogenarian? Yorvik Viking centre in York was what we agreed upon, so back in the car.

please come back

nice tree

We realise the village where we are staying  is rather lovely and North Yorkshire is relatively flat compared to the Peak District (I guess the clue is in the name). We also realise the traffic in York is very heavy on a Saturday and we should have gone for the park and ride. Oh well, we eventually find a  parking spot near the Yorvik Centre, and find some loos, essential when traveling with the old man. 

Outside the centre there's a bird of prey demonstration taking place, dad, the girls and me make ourselves comfortable on a wall, whilst Leanne sorts out the tickets.

still in the tree..awkward

Finally!

The bird man is talking about his birds, flings one into the air and it flys off to sit on M & S. Then, he gets what looks like a shredded rodent to tempt the bird back. The bird has other ideas involving the tree. It flys into the tree and remains there for around five minutes. This must have seemed like hours to the poor bloke on the ground, waiving his shredded mouse around to try and tempt the bird out of the tree! Meanwhile, half of York are staring into the tree, and observing the man and his embarrassment. He does a fairly respectable job of holding it together and talks about the birds keen eyesight and hunting abilities.

Finally the bird returns to the man, and Leanne comes back with the tickets. We all enjoy the ride back in time and the smelly yorvik centre. Most of the staff actually look like Vikings, it may even be a prerequisite for getting a job there. One guide was amusing the girls asking what sort of fur was on Maisie's hood, and pretending to not know what sort of creature a nylon was.

The girls and Leanne went off to a dig experience whilst me and dad wandered up and down the shambles and had a peek in York Minster.