I have a bad habit of "butting in" when I really shouldn't.

On the National Express coach returning from Manchester a group of about 18 foreigners(Koreans, I think) boarded the coach. I was at the front on one side and a rather dour looking english woman in her sixties was on the front seat on the other side. The last of the group of foreigners to board,a young man in his twenties, politely asked the woman if the seat next to her was taken. She replied "No" so he proceeded to sit down next to her, humming a tune as he did.
"I hope you're not going to sing for the whole journey" she suddenly retorted.
The young man looked puzzled obviously struggling with the language as well as trying to decipher her attitude.
I stepped in (as I do), I winked at him and said "don't worry , you can sing all the way, for me"
Dour woman looked at me daggers and said "Then he'd better sit next to you then"! At this point the young man turned around and spoke in his native tongue to a friend further back then got up and left to sit in another of the few remaining seats available.

On the second leg of my journey home I was at the local bus station and had noticed a middle aged deaf and dumb man who had obviously partaken of a glass or two of alcohol as he was wildly gesticulating with his hands and arms and seeking the attention of any female who was close at hand. On boarding the local bus a very pretty young woman probably aged about 20, of asian origin had gone to sit on the back seat. The man got on, spotted her and made a bee-line for her.
Now...he probably didn't mean any harm... but when he started his exaggerated sign language routine again the girl obviously didn't have the life experience to know how to react to him so when he started touching and prodding her to gain her attention, I butted in again!
I pretended I knew her, said hello and beckoned for her to come and sit near to me. She jumped up like a shot and gratefully moved over to the seat next to mine. She thanked me warmly for my suggestion/interference and confided in me that she had been feeling a little intimidated by him as she hadn't known how to react because of him having an obvious disability.

I assured her that just because he didn't have the power of speech it didn't mean he can push the boundaries beyond which a non disabled man could.

Remember the reduced 'Nestles Dairy boxes' of chocolates I bought a few months ago? Well... I gave them all away except for one box which has been hiding in my bedroom wardrobe in anticipation of the day when I reached my target weight.
That day came three weeks ago and although i'm not exactly Twiggy I have reached a weight at which i'm comfortable with, so why were the choccies still in the wardrobe
I am the type of person who can only lose weight when I am very structured and don't cheat at all, so when I do decide to lose weight I stick at at persistantly if not rigidly.
When I reached my target weight I went home from the Slimming club and thought "Yippee i'll eat my chocolates now" but when I looked at the box it seemed huge and as chocolate is my worst vice I knew that if I opened the box then I would scoff the lot.....so I didn't....nor the following week or the week after.

Ten minutes ago T'old man shouted up to me "What's that rustling? I know what you're up to"
I felt guilty as he appeared at the door with a dish of grapes for me to eat. The chocolate box was half opened on the desk where I am now typing.
"Take those chocolates to Bella when you visit her on Saturday" he suggested.
"I've already given her some" I retorted back as I tried to overcome my guilty feeling and dived into the now opened box; MMmmm, caramel caress, dreamy fudge and hazelnut cluster.... i'd almost forgotten what chocolate tasted like...they are a tad warm and slightly sticky but one slips down the throat quite easily after the other.

I'm feeling sickly now, there's a third of a box left in the fridge and if I get fat then i'll blame T'old man for not helping me out

I wish Bella was here to help me finish them off like we used to do pre-dieting days

The sun's still shining down on me as I enter my second week's holiday leave from work
I went to the theatre with a friend yesterday and i'm going to visit Bella in Manchester on Saturday.
In the meantime I had to go to the dreaded supermarket to get groceries this morning (I have to give T'old man something to eat occasionally) and I actually felt like a customer except for the fact that I had to visit my old department 'The Bakery' to pay my lottery dues.
I have been a Greeter for 3 years now and previously worked in the in-store Bakery for 13 years and although I still work in the same supermarket I very rarely see my old colleagues unless they stop for a chat on their way home but normally when one finishes a shift the place one usually heads for is home.
I have been in the bakery lottery syndicate since the lottery first began How many years is that?
We pay 50p a week each but with 26 members in the syndicate we have only had the odd £10 or £20 pay out every other year. With 52 weeks in the year that's £26 a year stake with no profit just loss to date. So why don't I drop out

When I mention dropping out the response from fellow subscribers is "Don't do that! if you drop out we'll probably have a big win the following week"...then I think..."it would have to be the jackpot 'cos when a win has to be shared out between 26 people it won't amount to much"
I'm not a gambler so I genuinely don't think that it's the thought of winning that keeps me in, in fact I don't imagine that in a million years we will win any substantial amount, so maybe I stay in 'cos I don't want to break the ties with my old colleagues, after all most of them have worked there for nearly as long as I did and we spent a lot of time together and being mainly women working in a closed environment we shared our family's highs and lows (even though out of the work environment I would probably only have been friends with one or two).
So I came to the conclusion that as we haven't had a pay out for the last two years and when we do it's usually at Christmas,I may as well hand over a tenner for the next month's subs and to cover some back dues.
I'll keep it going until Xmas, then i'll drop out

This young man shown here was being interviewed for the radio after the "Big dance class" event and proved to be very witty and eloquent.

A short time later he proved to be not quite so eloquent as I will try to relate here.

Whilst many erstwhile campers were sheltering in the Pub it became apparent that we would be "holed up" for quite a while; so in true festival fashion the beer began to flow, folk began to sing and high jinks's were imminent.
I was sat at a table opposite the aforementioned young man and about half a dozen of his young friends both male and female. They were patently enjoying themselves and intermittantly roamed around the pub's many nooks and crannys having good crack with all and and sundry. The pub was extremely busy (due to the torrential rain and thunderstorm going on outside).
One of the group of friends had in his possession a very large cucumber from which they obtained great merriment from a game they created called
"Pass the cucumber around the pub and see if it comes back!!" ... in short ..."Pass it on"...
This was a highly successful game and it created great amusement watching unsuspecting persons' faces as this large (and becoming increasingly slimey) cucumber was thrust at them. Reactions to receiving this vegetable ranged from a budding Elvis presley impersonator using it as an impromptu microphone and belting out Jailhouse Rock to some less savoury characters strategically placing it in rather rude positions Miraculously the cucumber did the rounds of the pub at least three times and came back to its owner eventually.
As I said earlier, the group of friends were sitting opposite me and as there was a shortage of vacant chairs the chap in the photo was standing up as he chatted and laughed with his pals.
Suddenly a nearby chair became vacant so I brought it to their notice and one of the group began to pull it over and told the aforementioned chap to sit down.
"Oh great" he said and proceeded to sit down when instantaneously his pal pulled the chair away from under him . There was a stunned silence as this 6ft strapping lad crashed to the floor, two thirds of a pint of Guinness in his hands still upright but with about a third of it over his lovely white shirt and trousers.
After about ten seconds everyone started tittering and giggling and I had to exclaim that it was a very cheeky thing to do. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion and without saying a word the aforementioned chap looked up from the floor lifted himself up and poured the rest of the beer over his pals head exclaiming
"Yes, it's F****ng funny isn't it!!
He then stormed off back over to the bar leaving the perpetrator shell-shocked with his lovely white suit now heavily stained and his hair reeking of Guinness. He didn't seem to know what to do and sat there for a minute or two, when I suggested he go to the toilets and rinse his hair and face.
It was nothing to do with me really but these were young Northern kids and he took my advice gratefully. Shortly after, he returned, with a soaking wet clean shirt and odour free hair then carried on as if nothing had happened.
The next half hour was spent with the girls in the group debating which one was in the wrong, the first one for playing such a mischievous trick (but with no malice intended) or the victim for responding so profusely (malice intended).
No conclusions drawn

They must have made up quite quickly as I saw them the next day doing their Morris dance routine in the festival site grounds and there was no signs of ill will.

I must add that in the whole of the four days I was at the festival this was the only incident I saw that was slightly confrontational. Warwick is a very friendly family festival and I didn't even hear a child being chastised or an argument ensue all the time I was there.

A bit different from the foyer of a certain supermarket where there are no holds barred.

Last weekend I went camping in Warwick as it was Warwick's folk festival weekend (yes, i've been to another )
On Saturday morning after washing and breakfasting I decided to have a walk into Warwick town centre (before getting down to the main business of concert going and generally having a good time) and take a look at its lovely Castle. On reaching the Market place I observed that the local Coventry radio station were set up for broadcasting and that something was definitely going on. After making further enquiries I found out that BBC Local Radio stations around the UK had joined in to stage "The Big Dance Class" a record breaking attempt for the Guinness book of records.
I signed up to take part along with several hundred others including pensioners, children, mums, dads and about half a dozen Morris dancing teams all led by a troupe of cheerleaders; we strutted our stuff adjacent to the ordinary shoppers going about their fruit and veg buying.
The end result being that 8,962 dancers have now entered the record books

The weather held out until the dance attempt was over but less than one hour later the heavens opened and a mega thunderstom ensued which caused me to be imprisoned in a town centre pub for the best part of three hours!
It was not a bad way to meet people though as most of the clientel in the pub had been marooned on their way back to the camp site and were busily bonding over visions of wet pillows and soppy sleeping bags awaiting them. After the storm showed no promise of clearing everyone just settled in and enjoyed impromptu sing arounds and performances.
I am pleased to report that my tent survived the storm though others weren't so lucky.
The rest of the time though, the weather was hot,hot hot.

I love to go a wandering.......with my nap-sac on my back.
I'm off camping again see you in a few days

Yesterday I worked my longest shift of the three, 2 'til 10 it was very hot in the foyer exasperated by the low ceiling with strip lighting along its length and the heat from the customer restaurant kitchen alongside, the air-conditioning doesn't kick in 'til you reach the shop floor but even there the check-out operators were complaining because they weren't allowed to have cups of water at their tills for fear of spillages on their equipment
It was a busy enough sort of a day but there was a noticeable lull as far as "incidents" from the rogue element were concerned (they must have been too hot and exhausted to be bothered) :
I got sick of seeing half naked men parading past me with their beer bellies hanging over their gut and massive tattoos over their sweaty bodies...uugh!
At one point in the day's proceedings I had to attend to a young woman who had just "given blood" as a donor and had then come straight to the supermarket afterwards, she was feeling a bit faint (hardly surprising) so I sat her down and went to fetch her a glass of water; when I returned I found her with her head between her knees and she had been sick all over the floor
Soon after, her husband arrived with the shopping and on realising what had happened he said "This happens everytime you give blood, that's the last time you volunteer, OK?"
She nodded meekly and leant on his arm to be escorted out

Why oh why, if you know you're going to feel a little "Off it", would you come to the supermarket, during a heat-wave straight after giving blood

No more work for the next two weeks as I have holiday leave to take...that's the way to work it

We're having a heatwave, a tropical heatwave
The temperature's rising, it isn't surprising
She certainly can can-can

She started a heat wave, by letting her seat wave
in such a way that, the customer's say that
She certainly can can-can

Gee, her anatomy, makes the mercury
jump ninety-three

You wouldn't realise that we lost during the World cup if the amount of people coming into the supermarket wearing England vests and shirts are anything to go by.
Big men, little men, girls and boys and a few women too, filing in with their patriotism proudly displayed.
Last week the last of the England merchandise was greatly reduced with the smaller items going for only 10p...today, I was giving them away FREEEEEEE!
Hundreds of "George cross" flags for the car,England mini kits to stick on windows, adult size hats with the England Logo on and bizarrely enough scores of Inflatable hands with 'Wales' emblazoned on the side.
It's amazing how many of these "England wearing vest men" got rather blaise retorting that I was a bit late, the World cup had finished; but when I suggested they might like some of the merchandise in preparation for Euro 2008 and that it was FREE then it suddenly seemed like a good idea.
The kids had a field day and as usual whenever I have freebies to give away they accepted them happily. According to a few customers some of the freebies will be winging their way to relatives in Australia, New Zealand and Canada whilst there will be many a school gala in Yorkshire this weekend with England Football merchandise on the tombola stalls
Me!? Oh my freebies are stashed away in the garage ready for when the husband and boyfriend of my daughters start waxing lyrically again about
ENG-ER-LAND ..... Sad innit?

A while ago I blogged about my neighbour applying for permission to erect a V large fence adjoining the front of our property we still haven't heard anything but rumour has it that it has been recommended to be passed No doubt it will be confronting our sightline quite soon.

My sunflowers which I posted about when they were little seedlings are beginning to open up but they are not as gigantic as I envisiged when first setting them. They are nice though all the same

My husband spends most of his time tending the garden since he gave up work prematurely two years ago (due to illness, now recovered) although he has no horticultural experience whatsoever he still manages to get the plants to flower nicely
here are a few random photos taken in the garden this morning
Enjoy this lovely weather everyone, I will, except for a little four hour shift down T'supermarket this afternoon

When I think that life is becoming mundane, I remember the times when I used to struggle and strive, then I aquaint myself again with this rather clever little ditty.
Somehow heading a poem 'being boring' promises an interesting poem.

Being Boring

If you ask me 'What's new?', I have nothing to say
Except that the garden is growing.
I had a slight cold but it's better today.
I'm content with the way things are going.
Yes, he is the same as he usually is,
Still eating and sleeping and snoring.
I get on with my work. He gets on with his.
I know this is all very boring.

There was drama enough in my turbulent past:
Tears and passion-I've used up a tankful.
No news is good news, and long may it last,
If nothing much happens, I'm thankful.
A happier cabbage you never did see,
My vegetable spirits are soaring.
If you're after excitement, steer well clear of me.
I want to go on being boring.

I don't go to parties. Well, what are they for,
If you don't need to find a new lover?
You drink and you listen and drink a bit more
And you take the next day to recover.
Someone to stay home with was all my desire
And, now that I've found a safe mooring,
I've just one ambition in life: I aspire
To go on and on being boring.

-- Wendy Cope

What have I done or seen today?
Not much, it has been just a regular day.
I saw an urban fox cross the road where I live, unusual for 11am as they are usually sighted before 6 am.
I had a pleasant train ride to the city.
I bought a winter cardigan in the sale, a £5 bargain down from £40
I enjoyed a Marks and Spencers salad listening to a street musician in the afternoon sun, then I met my eldest daughter for a coffee and listened to her telling me about her plans for purchasing a new house.
Arrived home about 5pm, had tea with T'old man, had a walk around the garden (my sunflowers are beginning to flower), came in and promptly fell asleep on the sofa.
Just a regular day.

I hope i'm not being blasphemous but I couldn't resist following the link that I spotted on Rithompson's blog, to make my own church sign. If you want to make one yourself then go to
http://www.churchsigngenerator.com/

This evening we've been watching some footage of the Pope's visit to Valencia on spanish tv via our astra satellite dish.
If any one saw City of the Arts and Sciences (Ciudad de las Artes y las Ciencias) where the service was held then you will see how amazing and futuristic looking the buildings are.

The water in front of the buildings is an enormous man made pool.
The hotel that we stayed in last March was about 200 yards away from there and the views were fantastic. The service was in celebration of christian family values and it was heartwarming to see youngsters from many countries there.
It was terrible to hear about the tragic event on their underground transport system last week but nevertheless Valencia is the city to be next year as it hosts the America's Cup yacht race around it's port, hence the whole city has been having a complete overhaul.

The Spen Valley Greenway has been created from about seven and a half miles of old railway line that has been cleared and developed.
The morning after my first night camping in Cleckheaton I decided to walk along  a mile or so of it, between the campsite field and the town.
In 2001 some artists were commisioned to create functional sculpture along it's route mainly using scrap metal
Here is my view of what was a pleasant walk on a beautiful day.
The start just above the camp site. 

I carried on walking then stopped to look at a sign I had never seen before

Young lambs grazing? surely not along along a public walkway.  Sure enough there they were a little further up, well not exactly lambs but Swaledale sheep

there were various functional bench and chair sculptures also made from scrap metal along the route

and random pieces in the undergrowth All in all a very enjoyable walk.  You could tell you were reaching the end of that particular stretch as the rolling views were replaced by industry
When finally reaching my destination where did I emerge?  The car park of Tesco supermarket no less! handy to pick up a sandwich and a drink for a rambler's lunch

I went back to work yesterday for the first time in over a month and it was quite eventful for a Wednesday in a supermarket, that is.
When I first arrived to start my shift I was greeted with the news that my fellow store greeter (a retired miner) had walked out after being chastised by dreaded manageress for not being in his area i.e the foyer.  No doubt he will be back tomorrow after he calms down (his motto is :- I don't need the job, they do).
Then,half an hour into the shift a woman declared that her handbag had been stolen alerting all the managers and security staff to a game of hunt the handbag; ten minutes later the handbag was found at the Deli counter, with everything intact where she had absentmindedly left it!!!!

After my tea break there was a real "theft" incident when a female customer pleaded with me to stop the woman a few paces infront of her; explaining that while she was selecting some apples this woman had dipped into her bag and stole her purse (another customer had alerted her after witnessing the theft.) 
I asked the thief (alleged) to stop for a moment to try and work out what the misunderstanding was about (one can never assume someone's guilty on another person's say so) she declined to stop but her face seemed vaguely familar as someone with whom we have had similar dealings with in the past so I alerted our young security guard to follow her across the car park and have another try at gaining her co-operation. By this the victim was getting quite frantic shouting that the suspect was getting away with her purse and credit cards.
All hell was beginning to break loose now as other customers and staff were congregating to see what was going on across the car park, the alleged thief refused to acknowledge the young security man when he approached her so a second member of security staff, who had by now appeared, phoned through to him and requested that he carry on following her to keep a check of where she was heading. 
Normally that would have been the end of any involvement by our staff but as the customer was so distraught and positive about her facts and by this time the suspect had been identified as one of the local "druggies", security no.2 phoned the police while security no 1 and a porter followed the suspect across roads and fields then into the housing estate.
While all this was going on I was busy consoling the victim with reassuring words and cups of tea  before she went and cancelled her cards.
To cut a long story short , the suspect was followed to a house in a rough part of the estate and my colleagues waited outside 'til the police arrived, in the meantime the suspect's boy friend came out into the street and accused  them of roughing up his girlfriend and proceeded to slap and push them around.  Fortunately the police arrived just in time and two arrests were made, one for suspicion of theft and the other for threatening behaviour.

When things had calmed down I went for my evening break (I work 'til 10 pm) and about an hour before finishing a policeman arrived in order to take statements from security staff.
Meanwhile, it was brought to my attention ,that a 30'ish year old man had gone to the Customer Service desk to ask for a plaster for a fairly deep gash to his finger, he said that he had cut it on a fixture but he didn't want to put in a compensation claim, he just wanted a plaster.  He was duly given one and off he toddled back into the store.  About fifteen minutes later (by now the foyer was quiet)  this man went to leave through the exit when the security alarm went off, I approached the man who was now carrying a rather full haversack on his back and asked him if he had any idea what could have set the alarm off. "No", he replied, and held his arms up.  "What about anything that could be in your haversack?" I enquired,  "Oh, yes" said he "My girlfriend has just paid for a bottle of whiskey and I am carrying it out for her".
"Oh, dear"  I cautiously commented, did the checkout operator fail to remove the plastic security tag?"   He then proceeded to show me a whiskey bottle, so I asked him if he would look at his receipt in order to identify the checkout operator.
"My girlfriend's still in the store" he said, "i'll go and ask her for the receipt"and back in he went. Once more I immediately contacted Security who were usually manning the cameras but at that moment were busy making statements to the policeman about the previous incident.  Nevertheless they quickly rewound the camera footage and established that, indeed ,the man hadn't gone through a checkout at all after being spotted down the wines and spirit's aisle. 
This man wouldn't have realised that there were Police on the premises so it was amusing to watch as the policeman and security staff marched over to him in the clothing department where he had gone, then looked into his bag which actually revealed five bottles of Whisky 
Bemused customers looked on as he was frog marched through the shop floor to the security office handcuffed to said policeman protesting his innocence along the way.
Further inspection of the camera footage revealed that whilst the man was getting the attention of Customer Service staff (for the cut finger which he probably cut whilst breaking off the plastic security tags) his girlfriend had walked out the store unnoticed with a full trolley full of groceries

As I said at the beginning ,"it was quite an eventful shift for a Wednesday".

This was the 19th Cleckheaton folk festival. Cleckheaton (also affectionately called Cleckhuddersfax, Cleckheckmondshedge or just plain Clecky) is a small market town in Kirklees with Leeds, Bradford, Halifax, Dewsbury and Huddersfield all being approximately the same distance away. As a child growing up in Yorkshire, Cleckheaton held no fascination for me, it was just another nondescript town so I was happily surprised to feel a pleasant ambience in the streets this weekend with a "French" market being held over the three days that the festival took place. French market stalls in the street leading to the Townhall " The townspeople and visiters alike were loving the sunny weather and even the local 'Wetherspoons' had a certain charm about it as the 'Folkies' and locals joined together to watch the footy on the big screen inside, whilst the Morris teams and sword dancers performed on the pavement outside. here's a few photos taken last Saturday to illustrate the atmosphere of this otherwise unremarkable town.
The festival had a nautical theme and lots of sea shanties were sung in the pubs.
These "Gigantes" are a popular sight in Spanish processions. These two beauties were presented to a local Morris dancing team as a gift when they did an exchange in Catalonia a few years ago. Miscellaneous facts: Roger Hargreaves, the creator of the Mr men, was born in Cleckheaton. In 1962 a Mr Joynter of Cleckheaton won a national sausage eating competition eating fifty seven and a half sausages in thirty seven minutes. Joseph Priestly, discoverer of oxygen, once lived in the neighbouring village of Heckmondwike. Cleckheaton claims to have the world's largest Indian restaurant in the world!!! It is called The Aakash and seats in excess of 850 people. The building is called Providence Place and was once a place of worship. The function room of The Aakash was used as one of the concert venues so I took a peek inside the main restaurant, it is indeed huge and very sumptous(both the food and the decor),prices are reasonable too.