tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092273299729596542024-02-20T00:00:31.851+00:00Pleasure City AvenueMusic, cats, football, rubbish photoshopping.Andrew Ormerodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05056455206054228722noreply@blogger.comBlogger108125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509227329972959654.post-26436143519182073622013-12-30T11:43:00.002+00:002013-12-30T11:43:23.086+00:00Scared To Get Happy Disc 7<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/videoseries?list=PLysF5SxLXi6DviWjLMCWCc3pTfyi_z588" width="560"></iframe><br />
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Part two of my theoretical additional discs for the Cherry Red <a href="http://www.cherryred.co.uk/shopexd.asp?id=4169">Scared To Get Happy</a> five CD box set of 1980s UK indie pop artists. As previously, the Youtube playlist above consists of 28 artists who missed the cut for the box set for one reason or another. The running order is approximately in release date order, although there may be some inconsistencies due to not being able to find the songs I wanted on Youtube and having to replace them with others off of different releases from different years. Harrumph, but at least this will be more complete than a Spotify playlist.<br />
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Play it if you want to whilst browsing the 'net...or not! I don't mind :-)<br />
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Tracklisting for my theoretical Disc 7, which runs from 1986-1989 (103 minutes):<br />
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<ol>
<li>THE BELOVED - A Hundred Words</li>
<li>THE SMITHS - The Queen Is Dead</li>
<li>STUMP - Charlton Heston</li>
<li>A WITNESS - Red Snake</li>
<li>THE BLUE AEROPLANES - Tolerance</li>
<li>HALF MAN HALF BISCUIT - All I Want For Xmas Is A Dukla Prague Away Kit</li>
<li>THE GREAT LEAP FORWARD - A Peck On The Cheek</li>
<li>BOGSHED - Champion Love Shoes</li>
<li>MIAOW - When It All Comes Down</li>
<li>ROTE KAPELLE - Sunday</li>
<li>THE VASELINES - Dying For It</li>
<li>MY BLOODY VALENTINE - Drive It All Over Me</li>
<li>ROBERT LLOYD & THE NEW FOUR SEASONS - Something Nice</li>
<li>MOMUS - Hairstyle Of The Devil</li>
<li>I, LUDICROUS - We're The Support Band</li>
<li>THE MEKONS - Ghosts Of American Astronauts</li>
<li>HEY PAULETTE - I Really Do Love Penelope</li>
<li>JANE POW - That's My Girl</li>
<li>THE CANDY DARLINGS - That's Where Caroline Lives</li>
<li>BENNY PROFANE - Hey, Waste Of Space</li>
<li>BOB - Convenience</li>
<li>BAND OF HOLY JOY - What The Moon Saw</li>
<li>THE MOTORCYCLE BOY - Big Rock Candy Mountain</li>
<li>FAT TULIPS - Where's Clare Grogan Now?</li>
<li>THE FAMILY CAT - Final Mistake</li>
<li>KITCHENS OF DISTINCTION - The 3rd Time We Opened The Capsule</li>
<li>THE MAYFIELDS - World Of Your Own</li>
<li>THE SUNDAYS - Can't Be Sure</li>
</ol>
Andrew Ormerodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05056455206054228722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509227329972959654.post-37529186100773726792013-12-27T23:47:00.000+00:002013-12-28T11:53:38.468+00:00Scared To Get Happy Disc 6<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/videoseries?list=PLysF5SxLXi6BlhkRaSR77rOl2-I1C181w" width="560"></iframe><br />
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I had the <a href="http://www.cherryred.co.uk/shopexd.asp?id=4169">Scared To Get Happy</a> 5 CD box set of 1980s UK indiepop for Christmas. Of course, it's terrific - 134 jolly pop songs - just what I always wanted - but as ever with these things, you get to thinking what was missed off, whether it was because bands were too popular, or too obscure, or too goth, or too punk, or because of licencing problems (and they admit that they couldn't agree terms for some of the big names - The Smiths and My Bloody Valentine stand out in particular).<br />
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So, I've just had a day off from everything else (bar fixing the back gate and piling up the wood from a storm-damaged fence - oh, and doing the washing up and a few other chores...). A day dedicated to thinking about what a disc six would have sounded like with all the missed artists. My favourites. After all, I was 15 on New Year's Day 1980, so this was<i> my</i> decade. The underground pop scene was all mine like it had never been before or ever has been since.<br />
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Inevitably, the bands piled up and I couldn't decide who to leave off, so I had to have a disc six <i>and</i> a disc seven. I've just created a 28 track Youtube mix for a theoretical disc six (theoretical partly because it's 90+ minutes long and wouldn't actually fit on a CD, but hey ho...). I'm going to play it whilst I'm browsing other web pages and enjoy it. If you wish to do so too, be my guest. "Disc seven" will follow when I've created a Youtube mix for it in a day or two.<br />
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Tracklisting for my very own Scared To Get Happy disc 6 (1980 - 1986):<br />
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<ol>
<li>ECHO & THE BUNNYMEN - The Puppet</li>
<li>MO-DETTES - Foolish Girl</li>
<li>THE CHEFS - 24 Hours</li>
<li>PAULINE MURRAY & THE INVISIBLE GIRLS - Dream Sequence 1</li>
<li>FAMILY FODDER - Debbie Harry</li>
<li>ASSOCIATES - A Matter of Gender</li>
<li>THE TEARDROP EXPLODES - When I Dream</li>
<li>FAD GADGET - Fireside Favourite</li>
<li>WAH! HEAT - Seven Minutes to Midnight</li>
<li>YOUNG MARBLE GIANTS - Wurlitzer Jukebox</li>
<li>THE ONLY ONES - Oh Lucinda (Love Becomes a Habit)</li>
<li>THE PASSIONS - The Swimmer</li>
<li>B-MOVIE - Remembrance Day</li>
<li>ALTERED IMAGES - Real Toys</li>
<li>ORANGE JUICE - Consolation Prize</li>
<li>THE UNDERTONES - Julie Ocean</li>
<li>THE THREE JOHNS - English White Boy Engineer</li>
<li>TWA TOOTS - Please Don't Play 'A Rainy Night in Georgia'</li>
<li>MARC RILEY WITH THE CREEPERS - Hole 4 a Soul</li>
<li>THE VERY THINGS - The Bushes Scream While My Daddy Prunes</li>
<li>THE PASTELS - A Million Tears</li>
<li>COCTEAU TWINS - The Spangle Maker</li>
<li>THE MEMBRANES - I Am Fish Eye</li>
<li>GEE! MR TRACEY - The Day the Shoes Bit Back</li>
<li>GRAHAM FELLOWS - Seven Pints and a Suicide</li>
<li>FELT - Ballad of the Band</li>
<li>THE HOUSEMARTINS - Get Up Off of Our Knees</li>
<li>THE FALL - Shoulder Pads</li>
</ol>
<br />Andrew Ormerodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05056455206054228722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509227329972959654.post-74260851236125826822013-12-21T11:54:00.000+00:002014-01-03T18:34:12.308+00:00Last Train to Eastleigh!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCJMs3uLVqXz5Nw72smyn3lh6YS4JUSeRb82Ub_rDS6EnieZwbDp9GvMYBYA5pnLoppkGzG0RMMW85ZFHJQE9VxH-4Sbmissreqk1m_i6C4NiLM9xSI48Vf00PCSz5QgFteJfciOe53fU/s1600/Lasttraintoeastleigh.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCJMs3uLVqXz5Nw72smyn3lh6YS4JUSeRb82Ub_rDS6EnieZwbDp9GvMYBYA5pnLoppkGzG0RMMW85ZFHJQE9VxH-4Sbmissreqk1m_i6C4NiLM9xSI48Vf00PCSz5QgFteJfciOe53fU/s400/Lasttraintoeastleigh.jpg" width="389" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Possibly the worst picture I've ever made. Sorry Rich!</td></tr>
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What a lovely surprise I had this morning! I woke up to find a fanzine on my doormat! A paper one at that, just like it was the 1980s all over again and I'd taped a 20p to a piece of cardboard and sent it off with a stamped addressed envelope to Claire Wadd or John Robb or Everett True and they'd sent me back an A4 pamphlet full of badly typed, but essential ravings on the latest Bogshed record. With hand drawn cartoons.<br />
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<i>Last Train To Eastleigh!</i> is written by my pal Rich, who lives in...Eastleigh. It's a folded leaflet, like a pizza advert but without the pizzas. Instead, he writes about the local indiepop scene - the gigs that he's been to, the places he's spun his headspinningly great tunes at for his "The Sun Shines Here!" indiepop/girl group nights. He pretty much plays my own record collection at these nights, so I'll be sitting on a comfy sofa at The Cellar in Southampton, drinking beer and tapping my toes to Dolly Mixture, Veronica Falls, The Shangri-Las, whilst chewing the cud with similar-minded friends. Happy times!<br />
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In this latest edition, Rich talks about his love for Blondie, reviews some of the latest indiepop releases with his usual enthusiasm, and says nice things about his friends! One of the regulars at The Sun Shines Here! was Sam (along with the other members of The Notes). Sam has since moved back to London after completing his course at the local uni and has formed a new band called Flowers. I love Flowers! Here they are...just the sort of music that Rich raves about!<br />
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If you want a free copy of Last Train To Eastleigh!, contact Rich at:<br />
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17 Oak Tree Way<br />
Eastleigh<br />
Hampshire<br />
SO50 4JN<br />
UK<br />
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Or e-mail him at:<br />
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richpassivity@hotmail.com<br />
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He'll be pleased to hear from you!Andrew Ormerodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05056455206054228722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509227329972959654.post-80341880301697480142013-09-02T22:13:00.000+01:002013-09-02T22:13:47.879+01:00Alderney Butterflies<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK4ivzeHaoLJb4ykGQ8-WzCS-pJ36KJRV0CorcakLmk0E4TsHmWXMGDLtdKTUTOSHG0i4A1R-gLgQoVDukY4-tpEzMITR0emtZfUekMXwLDrgTTjbhit6otOUcavqRF_8ag1Q1FNHK4y8/s1600/alderneylighthouse.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK4ivzeHaoLJb4ykGQ8-WzCS-pJ36KJRV0CorcakLmk0E4TsHmWXMGDLtdKTUTOSHG0i4A1R-gLgQoVDukY4-tpEzMITR0emtZfUekMXwLDrgTTjbhit6otOUcavqRF_8ag1Q1FNHK4y8/s400/alderneylighthouse.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alderney train and lighthouse.</td></tr>
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I've just come back from holidaying on the Channel Island of Alderney. It's an island that hasn't suffered from excessive use of insecticides, and therefore it was alive with insects - bees and butterflies being especially abundant. Of course, I had to take some photographs, and here they are, in the form of a quiz. Get your Butterfly Guides out and see if you can identify all five...<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlrJtH-s-m9OEZathRB_g1feJ7Tbxz9AiWMyILACXYJtSOpCY8z2-P7Ly0H3bxstVwIuDWQGzy0ZA4LFehHG2Pvz64geCD4B3Yk6RklIlMQ2HQZZdZRTZnrnRLG_h_sGnFKTGrnHHlIwU/s1600/alderneyrusty.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlrJtH-s-m9OEZathRB_g1feJ7Tbxz9AiWMyILACXYJtSOpCY8z2-P7Ly0H3bxstVwIuDWQGzy0ZA4LFehHG2Pvz64geCD4B3Yk6RklIlMQ2HQZZdZRTZnrnRLG_h_sGnFKTGrnHHlIwU/s400/alderneyrusty.JPG" width="296" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rusty old crane/train - puts my non-league rusty rollers to shame.</td></tr>
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Butterfly number 1 was abundant all over the island, mostly in meadows. This is the female of the species. This is possibly a local colour variation:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh0o7d8PyPmi1GtT6C2w9lU9JuvVY2owlEBFKkB44v7t1EtwgVYVJYVUWb-PXH7sSkAsU4ccNjuMxPwNRNvieivwReUwbDcAfHZfcXIGfy9O-f8aZ2O63_3MCfYCwFMgue7j3jXbGHjfM/s1600/alderneybutterfly2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh0o7d8PyPmi1GtT6C2w9lU9JuvVY2owlEBFKkB44v7t1EtwgVYVJYVUWb-PXH7sSkAsU4ccNjuMxPwNRNvieivwReUwbDcAfHZfcXIGfy9O-f8aZ2O63_3MCfYCwFMgue7j3jXbGHjfM/s400/alderneybutterfly2.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alderney butterfly 1.</td></tr>
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Number 2 is a species I've never knowingly seen on the British mainland. It rests with its wings shut. When it flies, it is a glorious orangey-yellow with black markings:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHTDUtn1R5Me_MpLF9PVdiHrsRVZwWVYcT7BueylT-xUr7Ci2KQoK3KJeabseZE0amnG5cXnkTGDuqrSwixS4wfzBl2A6Kx3OtFiDzE0UGb7cgwGmphdXEEeCjJl4Gpg9oOM5CzTajl7k/s1600/alderneybutterfly1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHTDUtn1R5Me_MpLF9PVdiHrsRVZwWVYcT7BueylT-xUr7Ci2KQoK3KJeabseZE0amnG5cXnkTGDuqrSwixS4wfzBl2A6Kx3OtFiDzE0UGb7cgwGmphdXEEeCjJl4Gpg9oOM5CzTajl7k/s400/alderneybutterfly1.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alderney butterfly 2.</td></tr>
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Number 3 was possibly the most widespread of all the species on the island. It turned up just about everywhere:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTXJ7PRXwga-dAJb_3VieSTxNOrSddg2jdRQD5CSFKyWHVqVr_gSv6nLEkYW7vBIi7Szl4cT-dDHt5Wga5dd2jp-3_424kEepLszrZal4YZgVjw9fAw86Hq2-DcYjNKEXWCltrivxmyjc/s1600/alderneybutterfly5.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="322" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTXJ7PRXwga-dAJb_3VieSTxNOrSddg2jdRQD5CSFKyWHVqVr_gSv6nLEkYW7vBIi7Szl4cT-dDHt5Wga5dd2jp-3_424kEepLszrZal4YZgVjw9fAw86Hq2-DcYjNKEXWCltrivxmyjc/s400/alderneybutterfly5.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alderney butterfly 3.</td></tr>
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Number 4 was another common species. It particularly liked the brambly and ferny areas, of which there are many on Alderney:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDRBTguGVaXkSRRAAAh0Zx43wwjtZaONdzP-LYLBNHTPgHB2qNfvc_TmKSzof_LhEkcSrE3ysW2gGNQuc6jyvHT3xWcP4HL71PbOR5aWk_U_05s27a_bRhj9XQ2Qv-ImJmjyo8zERy-Z8/s1600/alderneybutterfly4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDRBTguGVaXkSRRAAAh0Zx43wwjtZaONdzP-LYLBNHTPgHB2qNfvc_TmKSzof_LhEkcSrE3ysW2gGNQuc6jyvHT3xWcP4HL71PbOR5aWk_U_05s27a_bRhj9XQ2Qv-ImJmjyo8zERy-Z8/s400/alderneybutterfly4.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alderney butterfly 4.</td></tr>
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Number 5 is another of the brown species. When I heard that there were Glanville Fritillaries on the island, I became especially excited when I saw these - until I noticed the black spots on the upper wings:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjalHVMpbtNhQfnW25H8RqEx_6xqzY4ExOojUo1BqepLz3GqPpZ3ccYYnNk8ROK0FXhSZFNbRAgSyXsTfXEZ4PbHkQwfuYQ8l0wXQIen66AvHmTxs8Ky1ngALyJr1OTT2CKd0mjInInRrY/s1600/alderneybutterfly3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="306" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjalHVMpbtNhQfnW25H8RqEx_6xqzY4ExOojUo1BqepLz3GqPpZ3ccYYnNk8ROK0FXhSZFNbRAgSyXsTfXEZ4PbHkQwfuYQ8l0wXQIen66AvHmTxs8Ky1ngALyJr1OTT2CKd0mjInInRrY/s400/alderneybutterfly3.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alderney butterfly 5.</td></tr>
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That's enough butterflies. I'll post the answers in the comments in a week or two.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcFvNCXk8JYs7DeL_B2cKgR8HW6pjSDEMit9PTl8gV0oAvLSnuzIC9kJ5hCYTr_086_YAePRiywI9skr6-yS9NT9-aYnoSfIu2uSxSPbg8xmekfLjPlOx2iA-rAr8J1zM1JaukGaJMouY/s1600/alderneyfootball.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="231" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcFvNCXk8JYs7DeL_B2cKgR8HW6pjSDEMit9PTl8gV0oAvLSnuzIC9kJ5hCYTr_086_YAePRiywI9skr6-yS9NT9-aYnoSfIu2uSxSPbg8xmekfLjPlOx2iA-rAr8J1zM1JaukGaJMouY/s400/alderneyfootball.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alderney's football ground.</td></tr>
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Andrew Ormerodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05056455206054228722noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509227329972959654.post-34696613595433022712013-07-22T22:28:00.000+01:002013-07-22T22:28:03.514+01:00Garden Wildlife (Summer)<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy1H3OpINrSeFvC_rCLPR2VJaFtccKaO-4rr7xxdw42EMeIG8ZcSgztD4jefHO79RQYa4UZAnwgRDWtsX1FFbuPICT8CxOrl91H3W6CGmTypwHd0MKpmbdEHmoLfcFK7JCgJnM8X3ke-Q/s1600/Stag+beetle+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="273" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy1H3OpINrSeFvC_rCLPR2VJaFtccKaO-4rr7xxdw42EMeIG8ZcSgztD4jefHO79RQYa4UZAnwgRDWtsX1FFbuPICT8CxOrl91H3W6CGmTypwHd0MKpmbdEHmoLfcFK7JCgJnM8X3ke-Q/s400/Stag+beetle+1.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A late stag beetle (male).</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I've recently been attempting to take photos of insects in the garden, sometimes successfully, usually not. The most successful photo shoot involved this male stag beetle, who obligingly stayed still long enough for me to get the camera set up properly in order to take a decent shot. Stag beetles usually appear in the garden in early June, but presumably because of the cold Spring, they were a month late this year. Three males and one female have been spotted so far. I doubt if there will be any more this year, as they only survive in their adult stage for around three weeks. It's mate, lay eggs and die for the adult beetles. I'm not even sure the males are able to eat. Impressive beasts though.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHIePKVkyX0HpB8SRh_aeY-WSp13lXRPOK7tToODM7mVIw2k0yC2xbwfvo6xV40C9c_Vb7GQCoH3H8Zj9W1Rxhk4ljRnrw0xBAfS16yT9DfMsI7d86rcl1XBc4mkdqnzHJ0fZP1KbPu3E/s1600/Bee+number+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHIePKVkyX0HpB8SRh_aeY-WSp13lXRPOK7tToODM7mVIw2k0yC2xbwfvo6xV40C9c_Vb7GQCoH3H8Zj9W1Rxhk4ljRnrw0xBAfS16yT9DfMsI7d86rcl1XBc4mkdqnzHJ0fZP1KbPu3E/s400/Bee+number+1.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A hard-working bee.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Flying insects have proved particularly tricky to photograph. They rarely stay still long enough to be able to point the camera, get focussed properly and SNAP! It took many attempts to produce the picture of this bee feeding upon blackberry flowers (above). Got it eventually! I might invest in a macro lens when I have some spare cash. Do it properly.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-FL5TVPhlrbV1Z5N0myovCuGdYgsJW0V5hyE3mudNu-2GEwv4Q7zqBPbUp_0uPDQT_NZPKZq9TP-9JLi8RDvpVIbyPH_Bc1bz8VVVmSGND7qtILAe0qZXlC_VADcvyizzzJVpfu1st2Y/s1600/catnip+garden+2013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-FL5TVPhlrbV1Z5N0myovCuGdYgsJW0V5hyE3mudNu-2GEwv4Q7zqBPbUp_0uPDQT_NZPKZq9TP-9JLi8RDvpVIbyPH_Bc1bz8VVVmSGND7qtILAe0qZXlC_VADcvyizzzJVpfu1st2Y/s400/catnip+garden+2013.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some sad catnip.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Whilst I'm here, I have to report that the two catnip plants that were planted in the garden earlier in the summer have suffered terribly. The one above has started to grow back, but the other one is just a mass of brown sticks - so beautiful when it flowered as well. No idea what happened to the catnip plants - some disease or other, I suppose...<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivwV4ej7P7d_x8czsdj88gN9ibGUJCc-36nA1J2cTUWuKS3oKVXVexLj8vUpqNR_wcffQDgytNreqBVrJoQd6NQwgftRbubdjC2qs0ILe-BdoDON9hRdhkkDYMculCVSZF-Epeqd-GJng/s1600/Tommy+garden.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="293" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivwV4ej7P7d_x8czsdj88gN9ibGUJCc-36nA1J2cTUWuKS3oKVXVexLj8vUpqNR_wcffQDgytNreqBVrJoQd6NQwgftRbubdjC2qs0ILe-BdoDON9hRdhkkDYMculCVSZF-Epeqd-GJng/s400/Tommy+garden.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An innocent face.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It couldn't possibly have had anything to do with this innocent-looking fellow. Could it?Andrew Ormerodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05056455206054228722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509227329972959654.post-89262355683902585842013-06-08T11:49:00.000+01:002013-06-08T11:49:29.759+01:00Three Scottish Football Grounds: Cathkin Park, Third Lanark FC<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2NtwkAyvi81iQ2VXRy8p2ZXbzdBlTjKeJMUYOF9OjTuQvbld9F2Y9FmsVD1Hdo6Psdz6qcuOp3brBptDTYohhyphenhyphenWL6HdICO5SZn9s8dyq-pv-lrpFWTBid1AQPSE2RGqf6fVlWE5NgYtY/s1600/thirdlanarkshirt.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2NtwkAyvi81iQ2VXRy8p2ZXbzdBlTjKeJMUYOF9OjTuQvbld9F2Y9FmsVD1Hdo6Psdz6qcuOp3brBptDTYohhyphenhyphenWL6HdICO5SZn9s8dyq-pv-lrpFWTBid1AQPSE2RGqf6fVlWE5NgYtY/s400/thirdlanarkshirt.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The story of Third Lanark in the Scottish Football Museum.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Five weeks since my working week in the Glasgow area. My memory isn't great, but I do remember visiting Cathkin Park...<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOhD4cvX8BFN3LO-YPejg3COSTQyakbHsdOPqjy_8Intqq9HnCjwXPncUy33ZIw72JTCuwlhugNMA0v6qr4I30YJlqoPLrz6-EJoKa_Z7tI4q4mO1d5RvdCfpZPQ9UcBWBiqp7NO9ByIg/s1600/thirdlanarkterrace1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOhD4cvX8BFN3LO-YPejg3COSTQyakbHsdOPqjy_8Intqq9HnCjwXPncUy33ZIw72JTCuwlhugNMA0v6qr4I30YJlqoPLrz6-EJoKa_Z7tI4q4mO1d5RvdCfpZPQ9UcBWBiqp7NO9ByIg/s400/thirdlanarkterrace1.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Views of Cathkin Park, number one.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I had a few hours to spare before my plane took off from Glasgow Airport on the Friday, so I decided to visit the Scottish Football Museum at Hampden Park (a bargain £10, which included a tour of the ground), and then try to view as many football grounds as I could before returning home. I had grand plans: I was going to see Cathkin Park, then Clyde's old ground at Shawfield, Celtic Park, Firhill Park (Partick Thistle), Dumbarton, Vale of Leven, St Mirren Park and Johnstone Burgh.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWZrZwjRX7BdmQDqqjQVFWOelWuS_HY04hCBJq7aF9f0paDUOMsmql5fhibk9C1eybnHjunSBIK-1E0AR8FRc_aInon7xPHxZE5E3GIRUeVR3GJLoVfMBWQPzwthdFnOK9pEUjpj6k9ng/s1600/thirdlanarkterrace2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWZrZwjRX7BdmQDqqjQVFWOelWuS_HY04hCBJq7aF9f0paDUOMsmql5fhibk9C1eybnHjunSBIK-1E0AR8FRc_aInon7xPHxZE5E3GIRUeVR3GJLoVfMBWQPzwthdFnOK9pEUjpj6k9ng/s400/thirdlanarkterrace2.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Number two.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It didn't work out like that. Firstly, the museum was far too interesting, so I ended up spending over two hours at Hampden. Secondly, I was hungry, so I went to the city centre, missing out Shawfield and Celtic. Thirdly, I couldn't resist visiting the Monorail record shop to see if Stephen Pastel was working there that day (he was). Fourthly, the traffic was at a standstill heading west, so it was goodbye to my Dumbarton/Vale of Leven plan. Fifthly, I couldn't find Johnstone Burgh's ground for ages, so by the time I did, it was too late to visit St Mirren (and when I did find Johnstone Burgh's ground, it was hammering down with rain, so I didn't even get out of the car - it looked great though!)<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJyzFlUPniO9pESj4ApkZLBe_3Bcu_eopAkxz5if3oPNa6bXkCBXuQnZqkUIpFLUK18cVcxkic2bDH3ZPGrC11HS2GB6RrIlyZRNJaw-C6KHnAFraBWFsDvREWU2kR1wQHqTV5bFYhdIA/s1600/thirdlanarkterrace3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJyzFlUPniO9pESj4ApkZLBe_3Bcu_eopAkxz5if3oPNa6bXkCBXuQnZqkUIpFLUK18cVcxkic2bDH3ZPGrC11HS2GB6RrIlyZRNJaw-C6KHnAFraBWFsDvREWU2kR1wQHqTV5bFYhdIA/s400/thirdlanarkterrace3.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Number three.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The grounds I did see properly on my last day were Hampden, Firhill Park, and Cathkin Park. The latter was the home of Third Lanark FC, who folded in 1967, due to shenanigans by the owner. Incredibly, the ground is still there, ten minutes walk from Hampden Park, minus the big old stand on the north side, which was demolished in the 1970s.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgufBptfLsGmCwc433YupMRfyTGnp3M28QtfG05di2fokjwsEq0IKpa7EJgICurg_YnKvmP1J1EoNq3zAMnJtEfiYXcZjNCKrJPOgeOYi0WG0TMgqsFnINJfxlnuUmvvAojRIyI_eMr8Ps/s1600/thirdlanarkterrace4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgufBptfLsGmCwc433YupMRfyTGnp3M28QtfG05di2fokjwsEq0IKpa7EJgICurg_YnKvmP1J1EoNq3zAMnJtEfiYXcZjNCKrJPOgeOYi0WG0TMgqsFnINJfxlnuUmvvAojRIyI_eMr8Ps/s400/thirdlanarkterrace4.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And number four.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Cathkin Park is open to the public, so I just went in and walked around the bowl of terracing, accompanied only by two old men, out walking their dogs around the path at the top of the stadium. It was so quiet, despite being in a busy part of one of Britain's busiest cities. Ghostly. It wasn't hard to imagine the terraces packed with fans (Third Lanark were quite a big club in their day).<br />
<br />
The crush barriers and the surrounding wall have had a lick of paint, but otherwise, the stadium has been left to crumble with dignity. It's a beautiful place to visit in the big old city. Peaceful, like an old cathedral. A football cathedral.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvSL-cDci22YX6tby9Rlu02KfA8YyRo7gNlPoBQd7LiKdH0vK-ZERliHKGgZ5hElEDufsodzl89-2isGU5oSUj5BO96c4DLcDlDB9ZE651snB5MquCJhd552yj5mW3etPkAPAlTIgSC6Y/s1600/hampdenprem.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvSL-cDci22YX6tby9Rlu02KfA8YyRo7gNlPoBQd7LiKdH0vK-ZERliHKGgZ5hElEDufsodzl89-2isGU5oSUj5BO96c4DLcDlDB9ZE651snB5MquCJhd552yj5mW3etPkAPAlTIgSC6Y/s400/hampdenprem.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">SPL shirts.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
To finish off, here's a pair of little quizzes from the Hampden museum:<br />
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Above are the shirts of all the clubs in the Scottish Premier League 2012/13. Have a go at naming them all if you wish.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju0spHWkTAIIL4O5QZlxz90Xd04YuuBZvpJNoX0rtxiFW5owV9oQLrBn9n00amCycD7simXaKcY3eIU23RDGoFqhcqrMJuUVBAj_PEuojU78IhMyemhqehCGvF7dQ-GtjH9jGx0WROf9E/s1600/hampdensfl.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="271" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju0spHWkTAIIL4O5QZlxz90Xd04YuuBZvpJNoX0rtxiFW5owV9oQLrBn9n00amCycD7simXaKcY3eIU23RDGoFqhcqrMJuUVBAj_PEuojU78IhMyemhqehCGvF7dQ-GtjH9jGx0WROf9E/s400/hampdensfl.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">SFL shirts.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The shirts of the Scottish Football League clubs are in the display cabinet above. Again, name as many as you can (but don't expect definitive answers from me, as I haven't written them all down! The blue shirts are particularly difficult to distinguish from one another).Andrew Ormerodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05056455206054228722noreply@blogger.com1Glasgow, Glasgow City, UK55.829878215842278 -4.253318309783935555.82876321584228 -4.2558398097839358 55.830993215842277 -4.2507968097839353tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509227329972959654.post-13282505444767533412013-05-23T20:55:00.001+01:002013-05-23T20:58:17.832+01:00Three Scottish Football Grounds: Tinto Park, Benburb FC<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFwjMmHpgJqquxTX7oDWqqeC5jX5E4e4WFWSULIknuu3x-V8uW1s3DJclzx0aelWcIU3l5utpP_bKpfqk9C_iQqMwZ7VRAjDB7mIjLzf-JG1nrMGdaSIge-ZwkCbxJFQz6UObmppkQBbQ/s1600/benburbhalftime.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFwjMmHpgJqquxTX7oDWqqeC5jX5E4e4WFWSULIknuu3x-V8uW1s3DJclzx0aelWcIU3l5utpP_bKpfqk9C_iQqMwZ7VRAjDB7mIjLzf-JG1nrMGdaSIge-ZwkCbxJFQz6UObmppkQBbQ/s400/benburbhalftime.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kickaround at half-time for Benburb's young fans.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It's three weeks now since I went to Benburb. It all seems like a dream, but then it seemed like a dream whilst I was actually there. So much history, so many bygone ghosts of matches past. The Brylcreem, the Woodbines, the laced up leather footballs soaked with freezing Glaswegian sleet...<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjszbNyW6amDLeMCO7iPmkr691ZU1eo5kPPRgOFuz4q2zgzYx5DI53rWphzcISjoChg6iuJCP-VyE6SpKx0vsD3qrS2OKpJ28bdOVRjH50ZYDzdhUJHHXUzEkSu6v8wJvYG46RgnAk2UaQ/s1600/benburbwatching.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjszbNyW6amDLeMCO7iPmkr691ZU1eo5kPPRgOFuz4q2zgzYx5DI53rWphzcISjoChg6iuJCP-VyE6SpKx0vsD3qrS2OKpJ28bdOVRjH50ZYDzdhUJHHXUzEkSu6v8wJvYG46RgnAk2UaQ/s400/benburbwatching.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There were around 50 fans watching The Bens v Greenock.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
My second Scottish Junior match of the week, chosen because of its location in Govan, not far from the city centre, which is where I met up with my workmates afterwards. This time, it was a Central District League Division One match (effectively three levels below the Scottish Football League). There were tempting matches on at Pollok and Arthurlie on the same evening, but beers and curries were calling at 9:15...<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieGpy8JEeHlwMnzA7zF3y1JTa1Jw12ElYar8DKpg6daPjhAV-46QCRtiaWa-tk6LCo2P15Wvnr5V9Qz6uUSS9bb_IcdJTTZ5gecuiIcstACrcafxnSWryOm-2ReRKeXZNu4vj8pVatqK8/s1600/benburbdog.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieGpy8JEeHlwMnzA7zF3y1JTa1Jw12ElYar8DKpg6daPjhAV-46QCRtiaWa-tk6LCo2P15Wvnr5V9Qz6uUSS9bb_IcdJTTZ5gecuiIcstACrcafxnSWryOm-2ReRKeXZNu4vj8pVatqK8/s400/benburbdog.JPG" width="387" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Walkies!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I've never been to a ground like Tinto Park - the English FA would never allow football to be played at a ground like this. Built in the 1930s for crowds of up to 10,000, the only changes since are the trees growing out of the terraces.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkVTMv7LT49WX2WerKOUUV3GhHUDUEsMF1RrstQfxWi4RCj5Kih14nMljxfdZi9l6nakneOjetQSe75KGVB1ehv3i-zx58j___ZIeCxK_VvFpaLXbL6oxcHzxoaQucsX2XtalhPPWKIbI/s1600/benburbhole.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkVTMv7LT49WX2WerKOUUV3GhHUDUEsMF1RrstQfxWi4RCj5Kih14nMljxfdZi9l6nakneOjetQSe75KGVB1ehv3i-zx58j___ZIeCxK_VvFpaLXbL6oxcHzxoaQucsX2XtalhPPWKIbI/s400/benburbhole.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of many holes in the roof of the stand.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Around twenty rows of cinder and sleeper steps beneath a huge busted roof, extending the whole length of the pitch on the west side. Terraced steps alive with plant-life circling around the south side. More terraces literally buried beneath years of weeds on the east...<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFhH0_LI5UCDbc69HptShqibA-MShLbEoevw2DAHwUy8BLkHM4PILtWSLT5mTyjvYsHCSvHG2icyTVml9I6X9T-foxhzUbmUqrmWH6ur3fdAF5U3NZhVeXjZf_0ND2FduNmX_HE6WjBww/s1600/benburbterrace.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFhH0_LI5UCDbc69HptShqibA-MShLbEoevw2DAHwUy8BLkHM4PILtWSLT5mTyjvYsHCSvHG2icyTVml9I6X9T-foxhzUbmUqrmWH6ur3fdAF5U3NZhVeXjZf_0ND2FduNmX_HE6WjBww/s400/benburbterrace.JPG" width="350" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tinto Park's overgrown South Terrace.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
But its not all ancient and broken. The north side of the ground has a new, small concrete terrace, and the east side has a length of new hard standing leading to the away dugout (being Scotland, the dugouts are on opposite sides of the pitch). Extraordinary ground.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMmGM7gd_xNU27Uvm2oZSPSC9O3xG1GYNxb0YfKAf2xDVzAmNT0us5ZGRceQSp5rY_TAeii-6nzcaEI3IYOgAALcALvP3GfcfDcB_MFPSIThWJpnYZO11xFS73LNNZZF5Cw6fb9YAl9y4/s1600/benburbsunset.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMmGM7gd_xNU27Uvm2oZSPSC9O3xG1GYNxb0YfKAf2xDVzAmNT0us5ZGRceQSp5rY_TAeii-6nzcaEI3IYOgAALcALvP3GfcfDcB_MFPSIThWJpnYZO11xFS73LNNZZF5Cw6fb9YAl9y4/s400/benburbsunset.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunset at Benburb FC.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The match was Benburb v Greenock Juniors, who had already won the league title (Benburb were mid-table). I don't remember much, and what I do remember may be from dreams or reality - I get the two confused so often. Greenock took an early lead. The Bens equalised with an overhead kick a few minutes in to in the second half. Were they The Bens? Or The Cheeky Hens? Did I mishear one of their fans call them The Cheeky Hens? May even have been The Cheeky Wee Hens....either way, what a superb nickname!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFnWjtUrNtH454r1sr74afsce3ByDAjechzTG0kWvXEH4IA6nBWmq-sGY42U5nEyQPbYej_kuI1MU6wJ3FVvciNVsGjsElffygM29l0RPdxlpcAqeKyDoGdyEnhULL0Uj3pWGBhnATepU/s1600/benburbsunset2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFnWjtUrNtH454r1sr74afsce3ByDAjechzTG0kWvXEH4IA6nBWmq-sGY42U5nEyQPbYej_kuI1MU6wJ3FVvciNVsGjsElffygM29l0RPdxlpcAqeKyDoGdyEnhULL0Uj3pWGBhnATepU/s400/benburbsunset2.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A few minutes later, and the sun is still setting!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Was I hallucinating, or did the home linesman throw his flag to the ground and refuse to carry on when a Greenock player bawled him out for not giving a throw-in? (He was right not to give it - the ball never crossed the line). The away linesman gave up soon afterwards as well, leaving the young ref to give offsides as well as everything else. He did well though.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiq-B600bPQw_l-GvRCGTrI34nOP3YI5hoO5wa1lEbCsBrpg-oC76PDYylksAZ_D8ktfOYv2zomg2md4IYRgYzguczuHmOD-DSjqeqKOGjN55c8dz60WPxQe1iKGiNFsvr9uCMhMkFKxI/s1600/benburbfloodlight.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="356" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiq-B600bPQw_l-GvRCGTrI34nOP3YI5hoO5wa1lEbCsBrpg-oC76PDYylksAZ_D8ktfOYv2zomg2md4IYRgYzguczuHmOD-DSjqeqKOGjN55c8dz60WPxQe1iKGiNFsvr9uCMhMkFKxI/s400/benburbfloodlight.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sat on the hump on the east side of Tinto Park at a quarter to nine.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
All this, and they also produced the best programme I've seen all season! If I lived in Glasgow, The Cheeky Wee Hens would be my team, no doubt about it. I could watch match after match here and never tire of it. So much to see, so much to imagine.<br />
<br />
There were photos of the game on Flickr, but they have been removed. The dog featured in one of the photos above is also on Non-League Dogs <a href="http://nonleaguedogs.tumblr.com/post/49431299351/benburb-v-greenock-juniors-glasgow-red">here</a>. Benburb's superb website WAS <a href="http://www.benburbfc.co.uk/html/club.html">here</a>, but appears to have gone in the last couple of weeks :-(Andrew Ormerodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05056455206054228722noreply@blogger.com3Glasgow, Glasgow City, UK55.853215440136864 -4.326102733612060555.852101440136863 -4.3286242336120608 55.854329440136866 -4.32358123361206tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509227329972959654.post-33016134995958716892013-05-10T21:59:00.000+01:002013-05-10T22:10:01.872+01:00Three Scottish Football Grounds: Castle Park, Blantyre Victoria FC<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_3kf_-mdWLuC0HFJA0LtplWZnhmq5Mu6dtFa1sgGKNgg_NQdieFMRvfn-EUgCTJ-8zE9QHj4joC_IWgMiJR-T_tzGx-oErCnsY6y9dGV66hFTyRjTu6b26blw-DufcfDhyphenhyphenkiFRcC6guI/s1600/blantyreentrance.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_3kf_-mdWLuC0HFJA0LtplWZnhmq5Mu6dtFa1sgGKNgg_NQdieFMRvfn-EUgCTJ-8zE9QHj4joC_IWgMiJR-T_tzGx-oErCnsY6y9dGV66hFTyRjTu6b26blw-DufcfDhyphenhyphenkiFRcC6guI/s400/blantyreentrance.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The castellated entrance to Blantyre Victoria's Castle Park ground.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span id="goog_1037225107"></span><span id="goog_1037225108"></span>Firstly, I'm lucky enough to have a job. Secondly, I'm fortunate that sometimes I get to travel to places with my work. Nowhere too glamorous! In the last few months, I've been to Bristol, Manchester, and a hotel in the middle of Leicestershire where it rained solidly for 24 hours and I couldn't work out how to open the boot of my hire car.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglpm3vlwup1727AsFGnwkrScdor3q4byTPGYwAXgSh60rP2JelVRqGr8ULEDHH3Ie13QPlWcF6mcIj-eEFoAP0xWtwhZWLy5DJTNjWZWg8Z_WTifEhYZ4OIQ1TGOI8PzAaS1LvWz6qht8/s1600/blantyreterrace.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglpm3vlwup1727AsFGnwkrScdor3q4byTPGYwAXgSh60rP2JelVRqGr8ULEDHH3Ie13QPlWcF6mcIj-eEFoAP0xWtwhZWLy5DJTNjWZWg8Z_WTifEhYZ4OIQ1TGOI8PzAaS1LvWz6qht8/s400/blantyreterrace.JPG" width="327" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Watching the match from the railway sleeper terracing.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
My latest assignment was for four days in East Kilbride, just outside of Glasgow. I worked hard all day long, then come the evening, it was time to party! Monday evening's party destination was a West of Scotland Cup match at Blantyre Victoria, five miles from my hotel...<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFAO9M11cUACAvSTBgy2cvGEJywJIKa4Wh3BOX1nkYSStUVXzJWn00EObTmPTjk4ynnmj1RQlirerVMdf4Gp8bhg_rUwCDGpox1EwrBk_rADCuEwImWH8tUn4uQ0ZTZf6fQWsOOOKKM_A/s1600/blantyrestand.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="357" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFAO9M11cUACAvSTBgy2cvGEJywJIKa4Wh3BOX1nkYSStUVXzJWn00EObTmPTjk4ynnmj1RQlirerVMdf4Gp8bhg_rUwCDGpox1EwrBk_rADCuEwImWH8tUn4uQ0ZTZf6fQWsOOOKKM_A/s400/blantyrestand.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The noisy youths were just beyond this cover. Smoke was dissipating at this point after they set something on fire.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The Juniors broke away from the Scottish FA in 1931 - I forget why, but I'm glad they did. Most of Scotland's best non-league clubs play in the Junior set-up (they're actually adult teams - "Junior" is just a name to distinguish them from the "Senior" clubs admistered by the Scottish FA).<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiygbtV5yALTuwiVsx3aZG2oBUZJdskJEggJHdIL4dI1iu4Y3XpSm578bzEWn2ZUpBM05TJCT3eTe6l5wNLUkAaFaggQBbNsvcxR5-oWqviFzsR9F5jNLxQpMy5w4xRlG8CJe9XJwk5IXs/s1600/blantyrestand2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="252" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiygbtV5yALTuwiVsx3aZG2oBUZJdskJEggJHdIL4dI1iu4Y3XpSm578bzEWn2ZUpBM05TJCT3eTe6l5wNLUkAaFaggQBbNsvcxR5-oWqviFzsR9F5jNLxQpMy5w4xRlG8CJe9XJwk5IXs/s400/blantyrestand2.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The ramshackle cover.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Rules regarding ground grading seem to be non-existent at Junior level, which for someone used to the sterile, anodyne grounds produced by the English FA's overbearing ground grading rules ("Despite only having 25 regular fans, you must have a fully enclosed ground; you must have 50 seats even though no-one sits in them; you must kick off at 3pm on a Saturday and must therefore have floodlights; you must have this; you must have that, blah blah blah, or we shall relegate you forthwith..."), is utterly brilliant and made for a relaxing, fun-filled atmosphere.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVGfpeU9Bscq_22ApfBv4pom7W1z0cm0CxXGiGgkV_mwVcneJtTfVc8acIDmYbwSdhgQoK2sj1SubK5twxGNpUgIwJhycGTiioudJT0Qz6UxlLYW-NjNR_UfQnRo-wOkR-KrtaARPORZg/s1600/blantyreraffle.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVGfpeU9Bscq_22ApfBv4pom7W1z0cm0CxXGiGgkV_mwVcneJtTfVc8acIDmYbwSdhgQoK2sj1SubK5twxGNpUgIwJhycGTiioudJT0Qz6UxlLYW-NjNR_UfQnRo-wOkR-KrtaARPORZg/s400/blantyreraffle.JPG" width="328" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The results of the raffle were displayed on this chalkboard at half-time (£10 for the winner, £5 for the runner-up).</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Blantyre Victoria v Kirkintilloch Rob Roy, separated by three divisions, with the underdogs at home - it was already set to be an interesting match, but the stadium and the fans made it a night to remember! Castle Park is ramshackle, cinders and sleepers for terracing, homemade cover, patched up only when needed. The gents toilet was just a brick wall with leaves to soak up the liquid and a bright orange traffic cone for something to look at whilst doing your business.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAVquzNJAkQmrukGTGoX3H-dQdV71KaFGtECbahSNPjZWkATHJuc9WleWxDGkxqqivPuVMgzecomzSmiDU_b-n7y2ujqvpGmnvV4URfZkxWFb7AhBmvM-peUDg_zzkG74VP-ozqwE3f5k/s1600/blantyredog.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAVquzNJAkQmrukGTGoX3H-dQdV71KaFGtECbahSNPjZWkATHJuc9WleWxDGkxqqivPuVMgzecomzSmiDU_b-n7y2ujqvpGmnvV4URfZkxWFb7AhBmvM-peUDg_zzkG74VP-ozqwE3f5k/s400/blantyredog.JPG" width="308" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This dog cowered when the firecrackers went off.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
There were two different sized dugouts, one of which (the home dugout) wasn't used
as a group of around thirty youths were standing on it during the
match, including the obligatory kid with callipers, waving them in the air. The same youths set fire to something during the first half, and let off at least three firecrackers at various points. Nobody batted an eyelid. This must be normal for Blantyre, and for all I know, normal for Junior football.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYsx-mWVPTRi-sFFghdCQchi05E4j-A6mLftGHqaPIUcpb6GbC7vSUVOmmJFN_VYWarvhH5yXuNzxpPnz3fJnAuiYqgWdEZn2OV3HktSV2feO_tM8ayEC5wdInaiBZBwOJPaMO0nzd4mw/s1600/blantyreaction.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYsx-mWVPTRi-sFFghdCQchi05E4j-A6mLftGHqaPIUcpb6GbC7vSUVOmmJFN_VYWarvhH5yXuNzxpPnz3fJnAuiYqgWdEZn2OV3HktSV2feO_tM8ayEC5wdInaiBZBwOJPaMO0nzd4mw/s400/blantyreaction.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blantyre Vics in blue, Rob Roy in white - note the youths on the dugout.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The same youths were banging a drum throughout and singing and chanting and swearing loudly at the opposition. The sort of atmosphere you just don't get at Wessex League matches! The only problem I had with them was that I was a little hesitant to walk past them to take a photo of a roller at the far end of the pitch...just in case they let off another firecracker as I was creeping past. Never did get a close-up view of the magnificent rusty Beast of Blantyre (or, the groundsman's roller, as it's more commonly known).<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqDCmXVzVf53h_ghnUtkFxrF9Fg4cxAlY1Y9nKOFOmGDKRKjbSwK-WN8NpEQUuxlVyaRxxVWi87t_zxEYqIiedW20YaN3OxS92EFcdp9PF3jLnBavL1vEOWQMyE-m10ed_7537IwclqCw/s1600/blantyresitting.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="370" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqDCmXVzVf53h_ghnUtkFxrF9Fg4cxAlY1Y9nKOFOmGDKRKjbSwK-WN8NpEQUuxlVyaRxxVWi87t_zxEYqIiedW20YaN3OxS92EFcdp9PF3jLnBavL1vEOWQMyE-m10ed_7537IwclqCw/s400/blantyresitting.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These are all the seats I saw at the Junior grounds which I visited! If people wanted to sit down, they brought their own camping chairs! English FA, take note...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Oh, and the match? Kirkintilloch Rob Roy took an early lead, Blantyre equalised half a minute into the second half (cue pitch invasion and conga by youths), but then gave away a penalty a minute later, which Rob Roy converted. The away team then scored again a few minutes from the end to win 3-1. And then had a player sent off for calling the referee a *censored*<br />
<br />
Brilliant night out! My kind of party!Andrew Ormerodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05056455206054228722noreply@blogger.com1Blantyre, South Lanarkshire, UK55.792741127169123 -4.083309173583984455.790509627169122 -4.0883516735839844 55.794972627169123 -4.0782666735839843tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509227329972959654.post-62739884614870834152013-03-27T17:28:00.000+00:002013-03-27T17:28:44.799+00:00September Girls, Sweet Baboo, Veronica FallsThree great songs that are rocking my world right now!<br />
<br />
September Girls are from Dublin. Shangri-Las + Jesus and Mary Chain = The Perfect Pop Recipe! Every time!<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/TmohJby1kqQ" width="420"></iframe><br />
<br />
A new tune from Sweet Baboo. Daniel Johnston has written hundreds of great songs, but he's only got six. This is one of them!<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/BIdc7nUa-CM" width="560"></iframe><br />
<br />
This Veronica Falls song has been out for quite some time, but I never tire of hearing it: <br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/QmtS2-6iIUE" width="560"></iframe><br />
<br />
Thank you and goodnight!<br />
<br />Andrew Ormerodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05056455206054228722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509227329972959654.post-3837258100666910882013-02-22T23:22:00.000+00:002013-02-24T11:31:00.170+00:00Pointless Bingo!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFoxdRcLWGXK3o07u-k4rS3gv1otSRbu45EPkQFtiJZJKjYsK3C31OX3pJ_8wmF3fe76Ser0zcRbNqh-iQqi0cMLthMT_2ZSVB-6ZGjBC9ggjScYnPCGd2mjdGZSnMHirpC7qASZNLPrU/s1600/pointlesslatin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="273" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFoxdRcLWGXK3o07u-k4rS3gv1otSRbu45EPkQFtiJZJKjYsK3C31OX3pJ_8wmF3fe76Ser0zcRbNqh-iQqi0cMLthMT_2ZSVB-6ZGjBC9ggjScYnPCGd2mjdGZSnMHirpC7qASZNLPrU/s400/pointlesslatin.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Latin phrases aren't my strongest suit, and the two I knew have gone, but I'll have a stab in the dark...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Here's a new game you can play with all the family whilst you're watching BBC1's Pointless on a weekday evening! It's called Pointless Bingo, and was invented by my son.<br />
<br />
Print out the list of phrases below that are commonly used by the contestants on Pointless. Cut them out and give each of the people watching the programme with you an equal number of phrases. So, if there are two of you watching, take five each; if there are three, take three each, and so on.<br />
<br />
Whenever one of the contestants utters one of the phrases, whoever "owns" that phrase calls out "Bingo!" (or "Yay!" or something similar). At the end of the show, count up the number of Bingos from each person watching. Whoever had the most is that episode's winner! Simple!<br />
<br />
Here are your cut-out-and-keep Pointless phrases (feel free to add your own if you can think of any more):<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>They took my answer</li>
<li>I'll have a stab in the dark</li>
<li>It's a complete guess</li>
<li>I'm going to play it safe (double points if they play safe and then get the answer wrong!)</li>
<li>I'm going to go for a punt</li>
<li>I was happy with this subject until I saw the board</li>
<li>I did this subject at A level (or university), so I ought to know (double points if they get the answer wrong!)</li>
<li>It's before my time</li>
<li>There's only one I know</li>
<li>This isn't my strongest subject (or suit)</li>
<li>The two I knew have gone</li>
<li>The other board was better (or, I knew two/three, etc, on the other board) </li>
</ul>
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Good luck and enjoy the game! Andrew Ormerodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05056455206054228722noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509227329972959654.post-47294917629563585812013-01-26T09:25:00.000+00:002013-01-26T09:25:23.899+00:00Cats in the Snow!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1CBbFYwXAy1I0npkvVfuJK7ZnTIs_1e4x6QwUJUmYwtNHvhdZUPWe3NOi3Pc-pA1niGEfk2l-Zy4AnoAj9HFHvXcYOQ_vqaYt_m3k3Q-MSM8L_7tydhcFOj8CkVB49sqxSokP1BveS7A/s1600/tommyleaping.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1CBbFYwXAy1I0npkvVfuJK7ZnTIs_1e4x6QwUJUmYwtNHvhdZUPWe3NOi3Pc-pA1niGEfk2l-Zy4AnoAj9HFHvXcYOQ_vqaYt_m3k3Q-MSM8L_7tydhcFOj8CkVB49sqxSokP1BveS7A/s400/tommyleaping.JPG" width="367" /></a></td></tr>
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<span id="goog_987613882"></span><span id="goog_987613883"></span>As the snow gradually thaws from the south of England, I thought it would be grand to look back at last weekend, with some pictures of cats in the snow!<br />
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At the top, it's Tommy running to the back door after relieving himself by the compost heap. This is a rare picture indeed, as I've never seen him run before!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbua_XMf1Wd4pfGbNtGPUIpCpReD_XdvMPeCi_dbEX1zPKNdh8-aR_7OS6jJWdPsZX22JkUFkzyGUDgAQWpjJHCHDCOmxPdNgJpgDjH3fYbnVOdyuIUOvVwNqpTrznVsU9wJJtPxB5BJ8/s1600/mintysnow2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbua_XMf1Wd4pfGbNtGPUIpCpReD_XdvMPeCi_dbEX1zPKNdh8-aR_7OS6jJWdPsZX22JkUFkzyGUDgAQWpjJHCHDCOmxPdNgJpgDjH3fYbnVOdyuIUOvVwNqpTrznVsU9wJJtPxB5BJ8/s400/mintysnow2.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
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Minty wasn't keen on the snow. Again, this is a post-scraping pose, whizzing through the garden towards the house.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHZ9QAah-pR1hH7uVFsD6zbQWJR6ZOHfnv9qz4f8SFe2FTAVrndDRnYXAV9feNv6lGM8sSnakKliDKgVZ-St4BbUw8n6CBmaDbIvosVhlHQBhytL3XIcmyeNPYUuCGgqM0IIXJDMU07Wpb/s1600/021.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHZ9QAah-pR1hH7uVFsD6zbQWJR6ZOHfnv9qz4f8SFe2FTAVrndDRnYXAV9feNv6lGM8sSnakKliDKgVZ-St4BbUw8n6CBmaDbIvosVhlHQBhytL3XIcmyeNPYUuCGgqM0IIXJDMU07Wpb/s400/021.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
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I told my friend Lou that I would be posting these photos, and she kindly sent me some of her cats from last weekend. Above, it's the adorable Nappy, sheltering beneath a snow-laden bush.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiiGbbZafKSWZTRI1ntLVgeUZQA2Pl7TI7ajRqMdvbRzMxUiGQptQUzSBMU4yGXR92TYxM7Q88829gqADHcXlpM3hOnGPHoUAY2tKxT5i8o3oTGdz4dMXkAaNaWSbOVa8eIkDwo33Ltz_Z/s1600/016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiiGbbZafKSWZTRI1ntLVgeUZQA2Pl7TI7ajRqMdvbRzMxUiGQptQUzSBMU4yGXR92TYxM7Q88829gqADHcXlpM3hOnGPHoUAY2tKxT5i8o3oTGdz4dMXkAaNaWSbOVa8eIkDwo33Ltz_Z/s400/016.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
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Here's Nappy again, creeping gently across the cold cold snow, one paw at a time...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgZxLcqqik-ZxLrd76DrWjB_rGRZIftkeNstmQxyZz1wMLkWuBaPYtAOODtajf-4SS2HKpNkmEGW9g5DhwPJt6aFUQZzkHWC5ijvputzJoMLWRPiGP8S7s6tOdAJWmfZxSsWRVHgntvnGw/s1600/030.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgZxLcqqik-ZxLrd76DrWjB_rGRZIftkeNstmQxyZz1wMLkWuBaPYtAOODtajf-4SS2HKpNkmEGW9g5DhwPJt6aFUQZzkHWC5ijvputzJoMLWRPiGP8S7s6tOdAJWmfZxSsWRVHgntvnGw/s400/030.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
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Daisy looks as though she has a snowball on her head! This is, apparently, an optical illusion!<br />
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And finally, it's dear old Napkins again, trying to keep dry under a table in his back garden!<br />
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That's enough cats in the snow! Something more esoteric next time!Andrew Ormerodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05056455206054228722noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509227329972959654.post-14027504949219087152012-12-23T09:19:00.000+00:002012-12-23T09:21:07.281+00:00Christmas Cats<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF4bbDbPsq-kS-n7wFcuFEGcVnQbzQDdKpTYSDrHD2zCZWqCDOzsLQ9oOQ0a-UqRBQb030csN-99_t_kzsgy8dUG_Pkf4w5VnnxtdqIMg1yQZzFlmlCuUn0nggLUpoJeNlDSqR8OXT8Yw/s1600/mintyxmas.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="382" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF4bbDbPsq-kS-n7wFcuFEGcVnQbzQDdKpTYSDrHD2zCZWqCDOzsLQ9oOQ0a-UqRBQb030csN-99_t_kzsgy8dUG_Pkf4w5VnnxtdqIMg1yQZzFlmlCuUn0nggLUpoJeNlDSqR8OXT8Yw/s400/mintyxmas.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking a little cross. The tinsel was irritating Minty.</td></tr>
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A pair of cute kitty pictures for my 100th PCA post!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy4-iaZ-TjlnNYFmcw2l9mSVhanfBo5gOuUN1uExrti9ijjyL7hA_FH7eUIiYUngio9aPOKmRr503ZkUePX3O2IS91fTCz3ZI4-by8tw-eu7Scs7z9JI2jw_8aCnBO4lMpKjFEDtMcBck/s1600/tommyxmas.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy4-iaZ-TjlnNYFmcw2l9mSVhanfBo5gOuUN1uExrti9ijjyL7hA_FH7eUIiYUngio9aPOKmRr503ZkUePX3O2IS91fTCz3ZI4-by8tw-eu7Scs7z9JI2jw_8aCnBO4lMpKjFEDtMcBck/s400/tommyxmas.JPG" width="256" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tommy awaits his Christmas treat of giblets in gravy. Num nums!</td></tr>
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Merry Christmas everyone!Andrew Ormerodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05056455206054228722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509227329972959654.post-73015956458511534202012-11-28T17:44:00.001+00:002012-11-28T17:44:21.906+00:00I Predict That Mud Will Be No.1!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSCMdw71HpWcY5eIzNb4zpPOUwOaZYX3veejm9Q17SQsTkpk4enNvXJtYVk_wcvJUKAWCRUgZbLYRXWipu0dZvCSbQeHdIua69wvEeeEMcFyCb9okd669iX81xr5PUN6ZgXf9IItPT0Eo/s1600/charts74.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSCMdw71HpWcY5eIzNb4zpPOUwOaZYX3veejm9Q17SQsTkpk4enNvXJtYVk_wcvJUKAWCRUgZbLYRXWipu0dZvCSbQeHdIua69wvEeeEMcFyCb9okd669iX81xr5PUN6ZgXf9IItPT0Eo/s400/charts74.JPG" width="347" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Top 30 Today (How I think)...August 1974!</td></tr>
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Flicking through one of my old scrapbooks recently, I came across a page of chart predictions from 1974 (see picture above). It wasn't dated, so I've checked the Guinness Book of British Hit Singles for evidence of day, month and year...and I think I've cracked it!<br />
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I wrote this on 17th August 1974, when I was 9 years old and obsessed with the pop charts. I know this because of my predicted new entries, some entered on the 17th (e.g., KC & the Sunshine Band with their first-ever hit), others on the 24th (e.g., Paper Lace). I really really wanted Mud to be number one, but were they?<br />
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Well, no, Rocket only ever reached number 6! Top spot that evening belonged to Prince Charles's crushes, The Three Degrees, who remained at number one for a further week until being usurped by primary school girls' favourites, The Osmonds (who, in turn, were knocked off the top by 9-year-old boys' favourite, Carl Douglas - hooray for boys - we obviously had much better taste!).<br />
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Not sure why there are so many blank spaces in mid-chart - I presume I just couldn't remember every song in the previous week's rundown. And what's that angel fish doing in the middle?Andrew Ormerodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05056455206054228722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509227329972959654.post-50389911826103955412012-11-05T17:52:00.000+00:002012-11-05T17:52:17.633+00:0034 Squirrels<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyvWjKauVwmPuMqJcj5-88pIlVmc2ZCjKR0Zzol4GSPl_hCJCSMNJbEpTuI05DRebyqdEd1kRrmrPUwB1zBZ4uJAeIEundtVY_CaipPuGGCNsO7AEQT85E9hZiV-akurWIgcG0UtgQNzg/s1600/CSC_0227.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyvWjKauVwmPuMqJcj5-88pIlVmc2ZCjKR0Zzol4GSPl_hCJCSMNJbEpTuI05DRebyqdEd1kRrmrPUwB1zBZ4uJAeIEundtVY_CaipPuGGCNsO7AEQT85E9hZiV-akurWIgcG0UtgQNzg/s400/CSC_0227.JPG" width="395" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Delightful red squirrel nibbling chestnut, Brownsea Island. </td></tr>
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The annual trip to Brownsea Island in Dorset produced an exciting total of 34 red squirrels this year!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi765m-mMxGNttUd2uRkJX2ldMx7NkD997cvbtmrSqU1svUr4yYK7bPs4Z5oackGgredoXOAsbDY17vKvDXAcmVy0JAgxGTcmGQeBoYSH1fE9iO__XFdw-PwG6ImR7P5dipKf-NGA8ZZQ/s1600/CSC_0223.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi765m-mMxGNttUd2uRkJX2ldMx7NkD997cvbtmrSqU1svUr4yYK7bPs4Z5oackGgredoXOAsbDY17vKvDXAcmVy0JAgxGTcmGQeBoYSH1fE9iO__XFdw-PwG6ImR7P5dipKf-NGA8ZZQ/s400/CSC_0223.JPG" width="377" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Red squirrel outside the restaurant, Brownsea Island. </td></tr>
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Last year's 60 squirrels was unlikely to be beaten, but 30+ was a good haul. They're very active in October, mostly at the inhabited end of the island. Scuffling around with nuts, leaping around trees, they're not too shy - so long as you're quiet, you should see them.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkuvv3eakJXFzpNAxox5nQZG7C83vQ2r5Q0mmHo9iL7Tk6UGStYzcUnZ-9ElSU992amUKsjgyfNGt8yi1Bx_6HUZBPfyHW_1Zc8YqILjWCQnJiYeDOFjw6SAcugCUOuvjSMTnkVNWzQhs/s1600/DSC_0206.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkuvv3eakJXFzpNAxox5nQZG7C83vQ2r5Q0mmHo9iL7Tk6UGStYzcUnZ-9ElSU992amUKsjgyfNGt8yi1Bx_6HUZBPfyHW_1Zc8YqILjWCQnJiYeDOFjw6SAcugCUOuvjSMTnkVNWzQhs/s400/DSC_0206.JPG" width="276" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Posing Autumn peacock, Brownsea Island. Coming to a chocolate box or jigsaw near you soon! </td></tr>
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Also seen at close quarters...chickens, deer and peacocks!Andrew Ormerodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05056455206054228722noreply@blogger.com01 Farm Cottages, Brownsea Island, Poole, Dorset BH13 7EE, UK50.689063054865827 -1.963119506835937550.67900355486583 -1.9828605068359375 50.699122554865824 -1.9433785068359375tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509227329972959654.post-42959854624787267632012-10-03T23:37:00.001+01:002012-10-03T23:37:21.694+01:00Ghastly Football Kits<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV7EKAB_EJbnR8EcMNs3pn1l553IwgeRPfOs-z8GjK6cLMO3rqx45FuR5mEvAfFEYsvu68pbTxpCQf0xahrJwOprurGKcpiIOloj-jyIrd4Pvew7nZ1izNh7XdewHpopxCH1dc3XvSNbE/s1600/DSC_0131.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV7EKAB_EJbnR8EcMNs3pn1l553IwgeRPfOs-z8GjK6cLMO3rqx45FuR5mEvAfFEYsvu68pbTxpCQf0xahrJwOprurGKcpiIOloj-jyIrd4Pvew7nZ1izNh7XdewHpopxCH1dc3XvSNbE/s400/DSC_0131.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Notts County's prototype away kit on a soap-on-a-rope box. </td></tr>
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I'm usually asleep by the time the third match comes along on Match of the Day, bored rigid by Hansen and Shearer's inane comments. I rarely go to bed though, as there is a slight chance that I might wake up in time for Pompey's 30 second slot on The Football League Show at 12.35am. Some hope.<br />
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This Saturday though, I did it! I finally did it! I was awake when the Third and Fourth Division games came on for the first time this season. And I was shocked at what I saw. Not the standard of football compared to the highest tier of English football - I'm used to that after following Pompey all my life.<br />
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No, it was the kits. Why do so many clubs change their colours when there's no clash with their usual first choice? And why are so many of these change kits so...ghastly? <a href="http://www.ytfc-shop.co.uk/product.aspx?product_code=700030">Yeovil Town's</a> steward-wear with claw rips was bad (actually, probably the worst in the entire professional leagues). But the ones that got my goat in particular were Notts County and Port Vale, both of whom played in pink.<br />
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Now, there are certain colours that are NOT football colours - pink, brown and purple in particular. Unless you are Fiorentina or Anderlecht, you should not be playing in purple; brown was Coventry City's away kit circa 1975; pink is okay if you're Italian. Otherwise, no, no, no! <a href="http://www.medocmall.co.uk/cgi-bin/live/ecommerce.pl?site=theclubshop_nottscounty&state=item&dept_id=01&sub_dept_id=01&product_id=ADTHIRSHIRT12">Notts County's kit</a> reminded me of the colours on my old soap-on-a-rope box from the late 1970s - specifically designed so that nobody could sue Avon for copying their kit without permission. Perhaps Avon can ask Notts County for royalties now they've copied their old design?<br />
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Everything's rubbish these days.Andrew Ormerodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05056455206054228722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509227329972959654.post-83061662299968862242012-09-09T12:21:00.001+01:002012-09-09T12:21:58.666+01:00Happy 10th Birthday to My Cats!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-iuGbaAMgUgFksWk2r6ksgPSd2Dy-e2KobF9GlJDdQbZ5Jg7wsYzjr20uVgluB6kOR2Qq6t6M_2qf8BXU7Rgj3HYX-gRMMDHDc_Ns4Rauj9Nu_bF2-PzA3z-ntSat5De0ev88fPdjDM4/s1600/Mintybuggynibbles.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="287" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-iuGbaAMgUgFksWk2r6ksgPSd2Dy-e2KobF9GlJDdQbZ5Jg7wsYzjr20uVgluB6kOR2Qq6t6M_2qf8BXU7Rgj3HYX-gRMMDHDc_Ns4Rauj9Nu_bF2-PzA3z-ntSat5De0ev88fPdjDM4/s400/Mintybuggynibbles.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Minty hiding from the local nuthatches. They'll never spot him in there!</td></tr>
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<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCCS1tNxwAxSvPZcEixTd7cJeRVcT5IUi_r-L8JAk2t7A9JrRKFJb5YZ02gghstFFGMqwW49nVwRQHlunhBYC0grVbN0Uw80MrPQe7A3PCN5mF_Hb6qBSWsFtIWv3hPkvM7wSxKarW1pg/s1600/Tommycardboardbox.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="325" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCCS1tNxwAxSvPZcEixTd7cJeRVcT5IUi_r-L8JAk2t7A9JrRKFJb5YZ02gghstFFGMqwW49nVwRQHlunhBYC0grVbN0Uw80MrPQe7A3PCN5mF_Hb6qBSWsFtIWv3hPkvM7wSxKarW1pg/s400/Tommycardboardbox.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tommy cooling down and looking a little cross in his cardboard home.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
It's a big day today, as Tommy and Minty reach the grand old age of 10! Of course, in human years, they would be 52 and wearing beige cardigans as they sit upright in their head-of-the-family velveteen armchairs, smoking their pipes whilst reading the Sunday papers (or whatever it is that 52-year-olds do these days).<br />
<br />
Instead of reading the papers, they're asleep upstairs right now, as is the way with cats. Later on, they will have a tasty treat or two and lots of special strokes. They may partake of their favourite hobbies - Tommy rompling on the pom-pole (purring and fussing on a brick column at the front of the house that used to have a gate attached); Minty climbing on my shoulders and having a ride around the garden. Or maybe they'll just lounge around in cardboard boxes?<br />
<br />
It's a special day.<br />
<br />
Happy Birthday Cats!Andrew Ormerodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05056455206054228722noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509227329972959654.post-39719670013538475572012-08-31T23:26:00.001+01:002012-08-31T23:26:09.591+01:00Two Dragonflies, a Damselfly and a Bush Cricket<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigjkT94bnBGrHto57Xj9UkYQpsnK1775kGGsOkUhEdw1rFaI1F_1SdI_CIaqE-oUMzV0Xf-NBqqlLxE60pD3n9rHymdnnaELUFaFhUIjbNzA4l-J9li5s1Z44nOdC2w-shhH4YCcJJ-yQ/s1600/Dragonfly.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="347" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigjkT94bnBGrHto57Xj9UkYQpsnK1775kGGsOkUhEdw1rFaI1F_1SdI_CIaqE-oUMzV0Xf-NBqqlLxE60pD3n9rHymdnnaELUFaFhUIjbNzA4l-J9li5s1Z44nOdC2w-shhH4YCcJJ-yQ/s400/Dragonfly.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An immature female common darter? </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Typical man changes his hobbies on a regular basis. Whether through boredom or not really getting to grips with the previous one, or just finding something more interesting, hobbies can be ephemeral. Of course, I'm a typical man.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsNlVJhbVG5cDTo3wgIojIEvDaY1De3-8T6COdoCzlrYeDmwGTFZAWyP4gNwqFsJkJvs9It7Aeq40n5hf-LutJ6kWZ5tCQsO7jwKVVpm4aNaEwvt_hzGEuyRelHr-D4wNpXS5B_Z6U1Ac/s1600/libellulidae.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="343" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsNlVJhbVG5cDTo3wgIojIEvDaY1De3-8T6COdoCzlrYeDmwGTFZAWyP4gNwqFsJkJvs9It7Aeq40n5hf-LutJ6kWZ5tCQsO7jwKVVpm4aNaEwvt_hzGEuyRelHr-D4wNpXS5B_Z6U1Ac/s400/libellulidae.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A member of the Libellulidae family, either a ruddy darter or a male common darter. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Collecting beer cans, Top Trumps, crisp packets...yep, done that. Visiting all the football grounds in my home county...yep, doing that. Groundhopping can't be done during the summer though, so taking photos of insects occasionally takes its place as the hobby du jour.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpMgno0wfSbZ2bafTKXAGT0JXs9SoKyuxgQvgXEUu-UQu6xYaanfrivnvCdzT8H7cTTq5FESo5He-k3Hqm2TGxW9iJl_Bn3SfNJMe-cf-QTh6pxmCpYMtgCBoUW5rQT2a_hyxwO94qnmo/s1600/Blue+tailed+damselfly.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpMgno0wfSbZ2bafTKXAGT0JXs9SoKyuxgQvgXEUu-UQu6xYaanfrivnvCdzT8H7cTTq5FESo5He-k3Hqm2TGxW9iJl_Bn3SfNJMe-cf-QTh6pxmCpYMtgCBoUW5rQT2a_hyxwO94qnmo/s400/Blue+tailed+damselfly.JPG" width="395" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A blue-tailed damselfly. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Here are some of my favourite photos from the last year or so.<br />
<br />
From the top:<br />
<ul>
<li>What I believe to be a female common darter dragonfly, taken at The Blue Pool in Dorset at the end of July 2012;</li>
<li>Either a male of the same species, or a ruddy darter, taken on Brownsea Island in Dorset, October 2011 (I am definitely NOT an expert - 70+ species of dragonfly in the UK - males, females and immatures often appearing completely different within the same species - no, this is going to take me a while to become competent);</li>
<li>A blue-tailed damselfly (fairly sure about that - also taken at The Blue Pool);</li>
<li>A speckled bush-cricket, taken in my garden two weeks ago! </li>
</ul>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5rxDavx6KJMBAeemXXj8-Z3LlroC5HESzrFYLTyElsICWmtwjmi7QdzgJLar5sJeduetXfPzmGqcDP2jRMBtpxT9qiddMNzIpO1ZDmEbkus2elUEjMFEkeutn9C7f-I0_3wrRtLBEDnY/s1600/Speckled+bush+cricket.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="383" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5rxDavx6KJMBAeemXXj8-Z3LlroC5HESzrFYLTyElsICWmtwjmi7QdzgJLar5sJeduetXfPzmGqcDP2jRMBtpxT9qiddMNzIpO1ZDmEbkus2elUEjMFEkeutn9C7f-I0_3wrRtLBEDnY/s400/Speckled+bush+cricket.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And finally, a speckled bush-cricket! </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Dragonfly and damselfly experts impart their knowledge in many places, including <a href="http://british-dragonflies.org.uk/home">here</a> and <a href="http://www.newforestdragonflies.com/">here</a>. I'm learning!Andrew Ormerodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05056455206054228722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509227329972959654.post-20802615794410629722012-07-03T22:58:00.001+01:002012-07-03T22:58:28.772+01:00Ted MacDougall Sports<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRrgSWj35OhsjMozyTxggB4jo9H67pL6R9E7aBh7Ctb9l7il4_d2lcCuoejm98A_Y70J6fYCOw7hHlv2W2RpBLQ-9baszfNvRNyA8ot184kFDNMppFdn7TZRisOkLiLnkEXNtKHkVEHZQ/s1600/tedmacdougallsports.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRrgSWj35OhsjMozyTxggB4jo9H67pL6R9E7aBh7Ctb9l7il4_d2lcCuoejm98A_Y70J6fYCOw7hHlv2W2RpBLQ-9baszfNvRNyA8ot184kFDNMppFdn7TZRisOkLiLnkEXNtKHkVEHZQ/s400/tedmacdougallsports.jpg" width="290" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ted MacDougall Sports Ltd, 1971.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Looking through my old football programmes in the attic the other day, I came across an old AFC Bournemouth programme from October 1971. To be precise, AFC Bournemouth were actually still Bournemouth and Boscombe, and their programme was an "official journal" called <i>Head For The Top With The Cherries</i>! Chock-full of excitement, it's a ripping good read from cover to cover...grainy black & white photos of Cherries players in action...facts & figures galore (a 16,000+ attendance for a midweek League Cup tie v Blackpool!)...and adverts! Lots of old adverts!<br />
<br />
Visit the Cherry Bees Shop for all your ash tray needs (official club badge inscribed!), also bob hats, cuff links and driving gloves (red and black)! There's a photo of the shop window display - Football League Reviews on sale for 1p each! I don't know much, but what I do know is that if time travel ever becomes a reality, I'm going to stuff my pockets full of shiny new pennies and go shopping at the Cherry Bees Shop!<br />
<br />
And if I have any left over cash, I shall then pay a visit to Ted MacDougall Sports and splash it all on the Cherries' brand new look - short shorts! With string! Years before Sports Direct and their ilk firebombed every other sports shop out of existence, there was a store in every town owned by an ex-pro. In Havant, we had Bobby Tambling Sports. I only had a vague inkling of who <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bobby_Tambling">Bobby Tambling</a> was, but my dad knew, and whenever I needed new football kit for school, this is where we bought it from.<br />
<br />
Whether my dad was able to buy directly from Bobby himself, I'm not entirely sure, but put in the same position myself, if Andy Awford or Kit Symons ran a shop now and I thought I might have the chance to chew the fat with them whilst buying a pair of football boots for my son, I'd be there like a shot!<br />
<br />
The old days were better days in many many ways. See Got Not Got for details...Andrew Ormerodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05056455206054228722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509227329972959654.post-27366564055595755842012-06-08T11:40:00.001+01:002012-06-08T11:40:43.485+01:00The Indiepop Map of Great Britain<iframe frameborder="0" height="350" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="https://maps.google.co.uk/maps/ms?msa=0&msid=200378489727722655497.0004bc7c73f142949247d&ie=UTF8&t=h&ll=53.899924,-1.8009&spn=6.327265,6.206761&output=embed" width="425"></iframe><br /><small>View <a href="https://maps.google.co.uk/maps/ms?msa=0&msid=200378489727722655497.0004bc7c73f142949247d&ie=UTF8&t=h&ll=53.899924,-1.8009&spn=6.327265,6.206761&source=embed" style="color: blue; text-align: left;">The Indiepop Map of Great Britain</a> in a larger map</small><br />
<br />
You know that feeling you get when skimming stones at the beach, and after a dozen or so flompers (they bounce once and then just flomp on their side, sinking both themselves and your heart at the same time...), you suddenly skim the perfect stone - it bounces once, twice...eighteen times! Your breathing stops and you leap in the air with a yell and a woot! And then there's another twenty flompers...<br />
<br />
The perfect pop song is like the perfect skimming pebble. The perfect pop song can be old or new, but it has to have spirit, it has to have spunk, it has to have that bouncing feeling, as though the music is walking on water. A lot of so-called indiepop gives me that feeling. There may be buzzsaw guitar, there may be primitive drums, thumping away like a scared rabbit; it may be gentle and sweet, but it has to be special.<br />
<br />
Often, you hear a geographical reference in a song - tears at Bellshill Station as a lover disappears up the railway track perhaps, or a song about it raining at a football match. I thought it would be interesting to compile these references on to a map, so I did (with a little help from my friend Louise)! The map is shown above, and I've opened it up for everyone to edit, so if you can think of any relevant additions, please feel free to add them!<br />
<br />
The key to the different coloured pins goes like this:<br />
<br />
Yellow: a place is named in the song title.<br />
Blue: a place is mentioned within the lyrics.<br />
Red: where a band lived (usually taken from addresses on old vinyl sleeves).<br />
Green: record label or shop addresses.<br />
Purple: old fanzine addresses.<br />
<br />
Footnotes:<br />
<br />
I've only added one Half Man Half biscuit song from the many available. There is a separate HMHB lyric map to be found <a href="http://www.chrisrand.com/hmhb/half-map-half-biscuit/">here</a>.<br />
<br />
My definition of indiepop will be different to everyone else's. I've included songs from related genres, such as the tuneful end of punk. So long as there's some independently-minded and spirited pop going on, that's good enough for me.<br />
<br />
No metal.<br />
<br />
UK only. If anyone wants to create a map for another region (or expand worldwide), be my guest.<br />
<br />
Now, thinking caps on...Andrew Ormerodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05056455206054228722noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509227329972959654.post-37501884013160645172012-05-16T23:04:00.001+01:002012-05-16T23:04:47.178+01:00Alfred and Svetlana Went to Sea in a Beautiful Pea Green Boat<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyfq5RnYG3ShBwGyaRdOV91kgw7acbmgDBu0lRrhMPdZ5JtVfkmy9j2Txno3lGL82cH1Z-O_Xmrc44V_FZiTg1Jdeg_yfBBuemq389GZCiSEyrKfwaVMJ4hapRW9lgivWBWe6uBee4Nbw/s1600/alfredatsea.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyfq5RnYG3ShBwGyaRdOV91kgw7acbmgDBu0lRrhMPdZ5JtVfkmy9j2Txno3lGL82cH1Z-O_Xmrc44V_FZiTg1Jdeg_yfBBuemq389GZCiSEyrKfwaVMJ4hapRW9lgivWBWe6uBee4Nbw/s400/alfredatsea.JPG" width="318" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not exactly a pea green boat...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Alfred, formerly a fresh young carrot, had had an interesting life above ground. He could have bored for England with all the tales he had to tell of his evenings as an Elvis impersonator, of his nights as a superstar DJ, and of his days and days as a father to a can of whole baby carrots (and peas...can't explain that).<br />
<br />
After their whole baby carrots had grown up and left home, Alfred and his model girlfriend Svetlana decided to buy a boat and sail the oceans, whale-spotting and generally soaking up the sun. They spent all their savings on a beautiful pea green boat (vintage, mint condition) off of eBay. But when it arrived, what a miserable surprise they had. It was neither beautiful, nor pea green. On the other hand, it was certainly vintage, as in "broken".<br />
<br />
Ignoring their dream boat's woeful condition, they lashed themselves aboard anyway and set sail for who knows where. Nobody saw them go, and nobody has seen them since. I like to think that they're bobbing around on the Sargasso Sea, playing endless games of chess and feasting on fresh lobsters.<br />
<br />
I suppose we'll never know.Andrew Ormerodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05056455206054228722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509227329972959654.post-27081080737165867122012-05-05T00:14:00.001+01:002012-05-05T00:14:23.189+01:00Alfred and Svetlana<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4lfde7ZyiV7uIdPGZz-RmKYnwyDfi3QZ7JjnJgT2f7LiSMBC_0ALBOgahpg-zwAwxqlJc05lOq8DGsfUdTO_FY50O_Is4xJL3jjGz0w4R1rlWlbdxctTJa4uH1fm3rHDa-dfAqHpYJLE/s1600/alfredcarrotwithmodel.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="375" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4lfde7ZyiV7uIdPGZz-RmKYnwyDfi3QZ7JjnJgT2f7LiSMBC_0ALBOgahpg-zwAwxqlJc05lOq8DGsfUdTO_FY50O_Is4xJL3jjGz0w4R1rlWlbdxctTJa4uH1fm3rHDa-dfAqHpYJLE/s400/alfredcarrotwithmodel.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alfred and his model girlfriend, Svetlana.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Alfred became more and more well-known on the party scene - a "face", a "number", a "dude"... He became an international superstar DJ for the hip young root vegetable set. His cheeky smile, witty banter and wads of cash attracted a raft of admirers, many of them female. He soon became inseparable from a tall, rooty* Eastern European model called Svetlana. He bought her the most expensive mohair jumper ever made, and then splashed out even more on a matching tiara and pink sunglasses. You could see how happy they both were in the photo.<br />
<br />
Svetlana gave birth to a can of whole baby carrots (and garden peas...somehow...can't explain that). But the club music scene is unforgiving, and Alfred's style soon became old news. There were money troubles and psychological woes. His rise became a fall, and he fell hard...<br />
<br />
* as opposed to "leggy". Carrots don't have legs.Andrew Ormerodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05056455206054228722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509227329972959654.post-66278256813269825352012-04-17T23:31:00.001+01:002012-04-17T23:31:29.290+01:00Alfred, the Elvis Years<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2lqsIjkypA9eYFe0rWWlZCi_y-mqJgHaTyBj2N1Pm3ytCMYXS5iMR-54lDGo-VxKBa6r94t6b3ACtzjrLv445l91wlYbQBnOEKdYM9cOKtsxZU8SSj7LqLRmugkopkaOSUDHEU9pOL84/s1600/alfredcarrotold.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2lqsIjkypA9eYFe0rWWlZCi_y-mqJgHaTyBj2N1Pm3ytCMYXS5iMR-54lDGo-VxKBa6r94t6b3ACtzjrLv445l91wlYbQBnOEKdYM9cOKtsxZU8SSj7LqLRmugkopkaOSUDHEU9pOL84/s400/alfredcarrotold.JPG" width="275" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Don't you step on his blue suede shoes.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Carrots age quickly. It has been estimated that for every day that it's above ground and unrefrigerated, a fresh young carrot will age the equivalent of ten human years.<br />
<br />
Thus it was that after only four days of partying, laughter and general mayhem, Alfred reached his Elvis impersonation stage. Dressed in his filthy cream jacket, hanging out with well-known pretend celebrities such as the fellas out of Nowaysis and Greenish Day, Alfred became a hit on the tribute act circuit, playing to frenzied audiences of frustrated accountants at Britain's barn conversion venues. He had a grand old time, but it couldn't end well, could it?Andrew Ormerodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05056455206054228722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509227329972959654.post-86384438133192962942012-04-02T23:40:00.000+01:002012-04-02T23:40:14.143+01:00Alfred the Fresh Young Carrot<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYjZwO85AaJWi6IQ3XtSOL4MCc2KKMSCIhKzmz8gSOtC56lZEaBgow3OYyO2WHbQgHrE2Sn2_0wGBgaidqaGQSB4-MLxRUFqAVJGyc40SWOPTKLCTgGRHkQej0JEpGv6twoDtuak-Yeh4/s1600/alfredcarrotyoung.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYjZwO85AaJWi6IQ3XtSOL4MCc2KKMSCIhKzmz8gSOtC56lZEaBgow3OYyO2WHbQgHrE2Sn2_0wGBgaidqaGQSB4-MLxRUFqAVJGyc40SWOPTKLCTgGRHkQej0JEpGv6twoDtuak-Yeh4/s400/alfredcarrotyoung.JPG" width="228" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Young, fresh and curiously sexy - Alfred the Carrot</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And so begins the tale of young Alfred, the big-nosed carrot, who first came into my life last Wednesday. I was just about to start peeling him, ready for the pot, when I noticed his appealing features - his outsized proboscis, arched eyebrows and goofy smile - but it was the buck teeth that really made my heart melt.<br />
<br />
And then he spoke...<br />
<br />
He spoke of his life since he went overground, hauled from the earth by a rusty piece of farm machinery somewhere in darkest Cambridgeshire. He spoke of being washed, sorted and packed in to a recyclable plastic bag with ten of his family, then taken by lorry to Morrisons supermarket in Totton. He told me he was claustrophobic, and of how happy he was to be alive and free from the sweaty plastic bag at last.<br />
<br />
I told him that I wouldn't chop him up and use him as a colourful salad accompaniment. I told him I would help him, that I would take him to parties where he could meet the stars, that he could have a life above and beyond that of an ordinary carrot. He cried, and as a dribble of snot rolled down his upper lip, he blushed, turning bright orange, and told me that he was the happiest carrot that ever lived.<br />
<br />
So I chopped up his brother Fred instead. Mmm, tasty!Andrew Ormerodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05056455206054228722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509227329972959654.post-42974393241480362172012-03-10T14:30:00.000+00:002012-03-10T14:30:31.273+00:00Lyrics Quiz 2: 69 Love Songs<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipyMfkUGjzCkeCz_dLZlS5_sHknScYIOLvDTtsaWqOhEYuzq7qnPEZF7nKN7ZauAyi_PI-NTVbw1FZDimmueOhzWhl0hbUtaI6sqUlTCJqE2f-WLcx9u_V3qB_byZl8ddzThOD-tPrib0/s1600/tommymagneticfields.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipyMfkUGjzCkeCz_dLZlS5_sHknScYIOLvDTtsaWqOhEYuzq7qnPEZF7nKN7ZauAyi_PI-NTVbw1FZDimmueOhzWhl0hbUtaI6sqUlTCJqE2f-WLcx9u_V3qB_byZl8ddzThOD-tPrib0/s400/tommymagneticfields.JPG" width="290" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tommy! Your copy of 69 Love Songs is upside-down!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The words for Lyrics Quiz number 2 all come from one album, which you might think should make things easy, until you realise that the album has 69 songs on it! Split into three discs, 69 Love Songs by The Magnetic Fields is a fine collection of tunes taken from a wide variety of genres (and you can quote me on that). And what's more, of the people I know that regularly visit this blog, at least three of them rate it very highly indeed! So, this quiz is for you...<br />
<br />
Name the songs that the following lyrics come from:<br />
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1. If you really loved me, you'd buy me the Great Pyramid<br />
2. Grand pianos crash together<br />
3. You are a splendid butterfly<br />
4. This is for Holland-Dozier-Holland!<br />
5. Refer servicing to qualified service personnel<br />
6. You were an Army officer and I just a Rockette<br />
7. If I was Paul Bunyan, I'd carry you so far away<br />
8. My mama said gently, you can buy her a Bentley<br />
9. In tat or tatters you're entrancing<br />
10. The princess there is me, decked out like a Christmas tree<br />
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I shall post the answers in the comments area in a few days. Good luck!Andrew Ormerodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05056455206054228722noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509227329972959654.post-37771100762717894762012-03-01T22:53:00.000+00:002012-03-01T22:53:14.287+00:00Lyrics Quiz 1: The Smiths<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlqR8rjDgbOSrflqdQxGzWcTlc4YLFIBaPOVzxJjD1iN7YoU5wSE98fzT6m-jtaz2dVu_eoviBUbrD6yZNN3Nk4tw4XGWmji392pk9HGDeZhtbm02Vqnc5nkqiyc5gDaFt3LALI7KDGmA/s1600/mintysmiths.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="323" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlqR8rjDgbOSrflqdQxGzWcTlc4YLFIBaPOVzxJjD1iN7YoU5wSE98fzT6m-jtaz2dVu_eoviBUbrD6yZNN3Nk4tw4XGWmji392pk9HGDeZhtbm02Vqnc5nkqiyc5gDaFt3LALI7KDGmA/s400/mintysmiths.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Minty with his marvellous collection of Smiths vinyl.</td></tr>
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It's time for another quiz. This time it's a lyrics quiz!<br />
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Every sensitive soul since 1983 has spent at least some time obsessed with The Smiths. We all know their songs. If you can sing along to their big hits, their small hits, their B-sides and the less well-known album tracks, then you will do well at this quiz. But how well?<br />
<br />
Name the songs that these lyrics come from. Seven out of ten will be a great score! I shall post the answers in the comments area next week.<br />
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1. Belligerent ghouls run Manchester schools.<br />
2. I broke in to the palace with a sponge and a rusty spanner.<br />
3. Please the press in Belgium.<br />
4. Boot the grime of this world in the crotch, dear.<br />
5. I'd leap in front of a flying bullet for you.<br />
6. "He never really looks at me, I give him every opportunity"<br />
7. I want to catch something that I might be ashamed of.<br />
8. I'd like to drop my trousers to the Queen. Every sensible child will know what this means.<br />
9. I know the windswept mystical air, it means I'd like to see your underwear.<br />
10. I'm going to meet the one I love, at last, at last, at last.Andrew Ormerodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05056455206054228722noreply@blogger.com2