D'you know what I find intriguing? Apart from things like people who only respond to emails when they've got something to complain about, or a 'concern', but send them a direct request for information and there's tumbleweed cartwheeling through the ether... or the fact that all the judges on The Voice think all the acts are 'Amaaaazing' and they're 'so proud'... Are they deaf?
...or even that community spirit in my home village of Monton has all but disappeared behind the roll-down shutters now enhancing every establishment, said lack of 'community spirit' personified by the eyebrow-studded traffic warden who strolled past my car as I pulled up, three minutes before the no parking restriction lifted for the day, nonchalantly strolled a further couple of hundred yards on and across the road as I sat hesitantly in the car wondering whether I should actually park yet, but assuming that hey! anyone with any COMMUNITY spirit would have said, 'I'm terribly sorry Madam, but you can't actually park there at the moment, but give it another three minutes and you'll be fine, so how about you drive round the block a bit... or maybe I'll just turn a blind eye, on this occasion as I can see you're only nipping to the bank to pay a cheque in, but please don't let it happen again'... instead of loitering, on the other side of the road, a good two hundred yards or so away, until I've got out of the car and nipped in the bank for the time it takes to pay one single cheque in across the counter, before she sprints (I do hope she's made the squad) back across the road to give me a ticket.
'I suggest you appeal,' she says, as I remonstrate with her and a bloke in a van shouts obscenities at her as he drives past, causing her studded eyebrow to rise, ever so slightly. Water and ducks spring to mind. Save your breath Van Man, this girl is Teflon.
So I do. I appeal. But I send the cheque for the half-price fine anyway (buy half, get away scot free) because deep in my soul I know the Traffic Enforcement Officer who reads my very articulate letter is probably an arse. With a capital A. Who hides behind that very title. And quotes traffic rules and regulations and laws and stuff when he/she replies by return of post. And graciously accepts my cheque for thirty-five quid. Whilst completely missing my point about community spirit.
And that's why Monton is all but dead. Especially at night, when all the shutters are down. And thanks to now having to pay £1.50 to park on the (now usually) empty car park, just to nip to the post office or pop to the bank. Which is why people now vie for spots in the parking bays. Which aren't available till after 9.30 am, so if you want to nip there first thing, before you get on with an honest day's work, you're b**ggered. Or you want to support the local shops: the florists, say, or the newsagents, or the pharmacy (God help you if you need a prescription!) or even the newly instituted Tesco Express (another triumph of local councilling). And let me tell you, no amount of 'Monton in Bloom' style flower arrangements are going to make it any better.
No... what really intrigues me is that since my last post, I have had three page views - two of those today. One of them is in Germany and the others, I think, are somewhere in that huge, huge, huge mass of land that is Russia. I like to think these people enjoy my ramblings. But why? Why would they? And how do they even know I'm here, blogging away into the stratosphere? The internet eh? Scary. Bit like that traffic warden.
Saturday, 5 May 2012
Friday, 27 April 2012
This week I have mostly been cutting up bits of paper ...
Talk about the road to Hell being paved with good intentions! Over a month since I set the new blog in motion and not a peep from me! Good blogger, eh? And yet so much has happened.
This week, I have mostly been getting back to my creative roots, and playing fast and loose with a layout pad and scissors. And a bit of sellotape. Purely in the interests of mountain rescue, you understand. Thing is, the last issue of Mountain Rescue magazine caused something of a stir in the hills, what with its little illustrations of the newly proposed livery for mountain rescue vehicles. Turns out that half the readership at least (the male 'half', I'd hazard a guess) had too much time on their hands. Must be this year's apparent reduction in the call-out rate after a two-year high – now they don't know what to do with their time...
Anyway, this half of the readership with all this time on their hands also had free access to a goodly supply of magazines, scissors and ooh, maybe a Pritt Stick or two. I should be incensed really. The time I spend working on that mag, and all they want to do is cut it to shreds?! But it turns out they might have been on to something, as Mister Vehicle Officer has kept reminding me. At every opportunity.
Many pages may have lost their lives in the making, but the resulting dinky little paper Land Rovers (all say ahhh!) sparked an idea. Why not create a money box model, get a forme cut and printed and sell them as fundraisers? Great idea, Mr Vehicle Officer, but you try getting bits of 80gsm laser paper to do your bidding. The air, I can tell you was blue. It's not so much the working out of the shape – that's easy – it's working out how to cut the thing out of an A4 piece of card, and where the tabs and slots will go to make the thing hold together for longer than two seconds – let alone hold money. Which is the general idea for a money box.
Anyway, two days in – with a fair few rusty craft skills polished in the process – I have the template. It's off to a fundraising meeting tomorrow morning, so hopefully they'll agree it's a great idea.
This week, I have mostly been getting back to my creative roots, and playing fast and loose with a layout pad and scissors. And a bit of sellotape. Purely in the interests of mountain rescue, you understand. Thing is, the last issue of Mountain Rescue magazine caused something of a stir in the hills, what with its little illustrations of the newly proposed livery for mountain rescue vehicles. Turns out that half the readership at least (the male 'half', I'd hazard a guess) had too much time on their hands. Must be this year's apparent reduction in the call-out rate after a two-year high – now they don't know what to do with their time...
Anyway, this half of the readership with all this time on their hands also had free access to a goodly supply of magazines, scissors and ooh, maybe a Pritt Stick or two. I should be incensed really. The time I spend working on that mag, and all they want to do is cut it to shreds?! But it turns out they might have been on to something, as Mister Vehicle Officer has kept reminding me. At every opportunity.
Many pages may have lost their lives in the making, but the resulting dinky little paper Land Rovers (all say ahhh!) sparked an idea. Why not create a money box model, get a forme cut and printed and sell them as fundraisers? Great idea, Mr Vehicle Officer, but you try getting bits of 80gsm laser paper to do your bidding. The air, I can tell you was blue. It's not so much the working out of the shape – that's easy – it's working out how to cut the thing out of an A4 piece of card, and where the tabs and slots will go to make the thing hold together for longer than two seconds – let alone hold money. Which is the general idea for a money box.
Anyway, two days in – with a fair few rusty craft skills polished in the process – I have the template. It's off to a fundraising meeting tomorrow morning, so hopefully they'll agree it's a great idea.
 |
| Well, that's the template worked out, now all I have to do is get the artwork sorted, nice and colourful, of course, then get it printed and out there... |
Sunday, 18 March 2012
New year, new blog
Yes, I know it's not strictly speaking a 'new year', but it's definitely a new blog. And I've no idea really where it's going just yet. But, the thing is, this time last year I was busy setting up the Twirlies on Tour blog in readiness for my Coast to Coast fundraiser for mountain rescue. And I sort of got the blogging bug.
Me and my fellow 'twirlie' stumbled our way across the country last May - helped on our way hugely by the mountain rescue teams through whose areas we'd staggered. And, as often as wifi - and that damned creative muse allowed - I recorded it here for you and posterity (usually, during the course of the walk at least, whilst my fellow twirlie slipped quietly into the arms of Morpheus, helped only in part by a single glass of something chilled! But I digress...)
Seems I had a bit of a following. One or two even enjoyed the read.
And then we reached Robin Hood's Bay, dipped our toes in the water, cracked a couple of bottles of fizz, hugged a few hapless bystanders and erm, that was it... I sort of ran out of things to say. Except, I didn't. I just couldn't work out what to hang it all on... until now.
See, I also write a fairly regular column in Mountain Rescue magazine. Things happen to me, I'm asked to do things, I hear stories... it's all grist to the blogging mill. But I do a lot of other stuff too, outside mountain rescue: this last year, for starters, has seen me taking my skiing to new levels (in no short measure thanks to a certain someone - no doubt more about him in due course but his middle name's 'Couloir' - and a company called Inspired to Ski. And, come to that a blummin' good instructor called Martin Hemsley, who I would recommend to anyone out there, from beginner to advanced, wanting to improve their skiing.... ) But I've digressed again...
I've also, inspired by the Coast to Coast, started at the start again with the Wainwrights. True, I've 'done' a good few already, but this time I'm filling in the logbook and recording it all properly. I thought, too, I might just tackle the odd Munro. Well, it really would be rude not to. And guess who's helping me out on these particular journeys? Yes, Couloir... my very own intrepid mountaineer.
But, back to mountain rescue for a moment... well, there's always something going on there. Perhaps I should just say at this point, I'm not operational - it's not me on the sharp end of a stretcher carry. But I know plenty who are - on a daily basis sometimes - and I hope they trust me to tell their tales and let the world know about this wonderful group of people. I get to interview people too - this last couple of months alone has seen me interviewing (well, chatting with in a relaxed manner, I hope) to a couple who've been involved with mountain rescue for sixty years. Fascinating to meet two people who have been involved since the early days when things really were just taking shape in terms of a joined up rescue service. Equipment, clothing, transport - you name it - has changed so much in the last ten years alone, it's hard to imagine people setting off to rescue a casualty without radios, waterproof clothing, four-wheel drive transport and proper medical equipment. And hardly a landline between them!
And how could I forget my latest interview – retiring trailing search dog Mij, who popped down the M61 with her handler Iain, to tell me all about her plans for the future. You think I'm joking? Just watch this space!
In fact, talking of dogs, the last year has seen me working on a book about search and rescue dogs with Bob Sharp and Bill Jennison, of Scottish mountain rescue. They've written it, I've designed it. Hopefully, it hits the bookshops this summer... I'll keep you posted on that.
So... I hope you'll bear with me. Who knows where we'll end up, but one thing I know for sure: there WILL be mud on the boots.
Me and my fellow 'twirlie' stumbled our way across the country last May - helped on our way hugely by the mountain rescue teams through whose areas we'd staggered. And, as often as wifi - and that damned creative muse allowed - I recorded it here for you and posterity (usually, during the course of the walk at least, whilst my fellow twirlie slipped quietly into the arms of Morpheus, helped only in part by a single glass of something chilled! But I digress...)
Seems I had a bit of a following. One or two even enjoyed the read.
And then we reached Robin Hood's Bay, dipped our toes in the water, cracked a couple of bottles of fizz, hugged a few hapless bystanders and erm, that was it... I sort of ran out of things to say. Except, I didn't. I just couldn't work out what to hang it all on... until now.
See, I also write a fairly regular column in Mountain Rescue magazine. Things happen to me, I'm asked to do things, I hear stories... it's all grist to the blogging mill. But I do a lot of other stuff too, outside mountain rescue: this last year, for starters, has seen me taking my skiing to new levels (in no short measure thanks to a certain someone - no doubt more about him in due course but his middle name's 'Couloir' - and a company called Inspired to Ski. And, come to that a blummin' good instructor called Martin Hemsley, who I would recommend to anyone out there, from beginner to advanced, wanting to improve their skiing.... ) But I've digressed again...
I've also, inspired by the Coast to Coast, started at the start again with the Wainwrights. True, I've 'done' a good few already, but this time I'm filling in the logbook and recording it all properly. I thought, too, I might just tackle the odd Munro. Well, it really would be rude not to. And guess who's helping me out on these particular journeys? Yes, Couloir... my very own intrepid mountaineer.
But, back to mountain rescue for a moment... well, there's always something going on there. Perhaps I should just say at this point, I'm not operational - it's not me on the sharp end of a stretcher carry. But I know plenty who are - on a daily basis sometimes - and I hope they trust me to tell their tales and let the world know about this wonderful group of people. I get to interview people too - this last couple of months alone has seen me interviewing (well, chatting with in a relaxed manner, I hope) to a couple who've been involved with mountain rescue for sixty years. Fascinating to meet two people who have been involved since the early days when things really were just taking shape in terms of a joined up rescue service. Equipment, clothing, transport - you name it - has changed so much in the last ten years alone, it's hard to imagine people setting off to rescue a casualty without radios, waterproof clothing, four-wheel drive transport and proper medical equipment. And hardly a landline between them!
And how could I forget my latest interview – retiring trailing search dog Mij, who popped down the M61 with her handler Iain, to tell me all about her plans for the future. You think I'm joking? Just watch this space!
In fact, talking of dogs, the last year has seen me working on a book about search and rescue dogs with Bob Sharp and Bill Jennison, of Scottish mountain rescue. They've written it, I've designed it. Hopefully, it hits the bookshops this summer... I'll keep you posted on that.
So... I hope you'll bear with me. Who knows where we'll end up, but one thing I know for sure: there WILL be mud on the boots.
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