mercuryg

Surely the 'manicuring' sym refers to - quite rightly - are age old also? There's a shoot on my sister's land in Lincolnshire that she has to allow by covenant. I believe it's been in existence for several hundred years. I was disappointed that I only saw them take one dead duck last time!

'...a fog of groupthink....' That put me off reading straight away! Unfortunately I don't see how any broadcaster of this scale can remain unbiased, whichever way.

I have a client who is called Louise. The number of times I've addressed her as Lousie...

Somehow missed this! Belated good wishes to the Foxy one

I remember in the early days of the internet, a time long, long ago, when the systems for censorship of certain words were not as efficient as they are now, it was common to find websites that would not allow you to type 'Scunthorpe'.

An interesting post, Canny Lass. I find the growing trend towards Islamaphobia uncomfortable, to say the least, just as would if it were another religion that was being singled out. Of course, the paranoia is fuelled by the few 'bad apples' who practise the extremist view, and who tar the rest of their religion as a result. This is not unique to Islam, it should be said; we don't need to look too far from home to find examples of good old Christians, of whatever ilk, doing nasty things across the years. I should say that I find the burka ridiculous; that's because it's not my culture, and I dare say I don't understand it. I'm currently wearing a shirt woth a pattern print of small dogs; plenty will find that ridiculous, too. To be fair, though, my shirt doesn't prevent me being recognised (quite the opposite - 'there's that idiot with the stupid shirt') as many see the burka as doing, which is where the 'ban the burka' theme emerges. I fail to see, however, how it would prevent, in any way, the extremist muslims from being so. Furthermore, while we're at it, should we ban Sikhs from carrying the Kirpan? After all, unlike a burka, one could conceivably kill you.

mmm, actually, despite the poor picture, it bears a resemblance to someone I vaguely know, although have not seen for a good while.....unfortunately I only know his christian name, and not address. I'll pass my scant info to the relevant people....

I have one Maggie, although not quite that size....

Canny lass I've tried, even offered to ghost write it I think! These are seriously must read posts, especially for us with no experience underground. Fascinating and captivating stuff.

Brilliant stuff, HPW, an absolute joy to read!

Ok Malcolm, thank you, I may walk down later and have a look!

Looks great but am having trouble with the geography here! Say I'm walking from Front Street to the Big Event next weekend, how do I access this path to avoid having to walk on the road?

Where is the new path?

Pilgrim I now have an image of your tank brushing everything aside and blasting all to hell on the battlefield, complete with l plates. Great stuff.

Lol, first time I checked it for ages just now and should be walking past? The legend that is Tommy the Egg Man

A lot more than that Tony!

"We drive a lot of miles each year but accept that our driving life is coming to an end." Maggie, I think you're talking yourself old! My mother is 80, and still driving all over the place. (If you see a gold 03 Micra, get out of the way....) I passed my test when I was just 18, so have been driving 32 years. I don't drive often these days, as I can't justify the expense of a car. It's simply not necessary. I remember the days when I could fill my Mini's tank for less than a tenner; it cost £45 to almost fill the Micra up last time! Anyway, what cars have we owned, and what memories do they hold? For me, first own car,having borrowed mums for a while, was a khaki green Mini 1000 - a rare model, in fact, for it was part of a batch commissioned by the MOD for use on army and air force bases, and very strangely or a mini had a vynil roof. Next car was another mini, a rather battered model that served me well for some years. Then I had a Mk1 Escort that a friend 'repainted' for me before passing it on; it was red, white and blue with a matt black bonnet with, rather annoyingly and not by request, 'STEVE' stencilled in white. Homeward bound from a friends in the middle of the night (no drink involved) I was stopped by the police. 'This your car, sir?' 'Yes, officer.' 'Mmm, we often stop tehse, very easy to steal, you know.' 'Oh, I know, but this one has added security measures.' 'Really? Such as?' 'Well, it has my name on the bonnet in foot high letters.....' Moving on, I then 'borrowed' another Mini off a good friend. This one was special: it was a 1275GT, but with a race-tuned Downton engine bored out to an unspecified size, but probably around 1400cc. Water cooled head and all sorts of mods. Went like the proverbial off a shovel, and had the wonderful ability to spark all car alarms in a hundred yard radius when revved. The fun I had embarrasing XR3i's at the lights.....At the same time I owned what woul now rank as my dream car: a Jaguar XJC. Actually, this one was a Daimler, making it very scarce indeed. For the uninitiated, this is the two door version of the XJ6. V12 engine, all mod cons for the time, blindingly fast and, well, in this case, a complete and utter wreck. The intention was to restore it. Sadly, a chance to move from Cheshire back here meant it was never even begun. I sold it to a bloke who simply wanted the (perfect) engine. It's the one car I wish I still had: I bought it for a pittance, yet today - even in the state it was needing a new floor, one new rear wing (try finding one of those.....) and much, much more you'd be talking lots and lots of dosh. The 1275 blew up on the Horton Road on the way home from work one day, so I packed it off back to its owner in Cheshire; he still has it, another sad car waiting to be restored, but I believe he will get around to it one day. Next came a car that repeatedly tried to kill me, a black Opel Manta GTE. Lovely car, but from the first week I owned it, it was clearly out to get me. Four days with it and, while coming down the Bebside side of the bank, a lorry from down the bank began to shed its load; a railway sleeper destroyed my windscreen which, amazingly, merely shattered. It was an inch from my face when I came to a stop. It was involved in many mishaps including attacking tractors and so on from then, and I replaced it with a mad, very cheap, and rather endearing FIAT Uno, which expired on the way to the garage to part exchange it. My last car was a very effective Citroen BX14; it'sno wonder Rolls Royce still use that hydraulic suspension system under licence. It is truly amazing. Anyway, sorry for the lengthy tome! Hope you have stories to tell.

I think my mother still has a paraffin heater in the greenhouse, but can't remember when she last used it. I remember when I was just little walking with my grandad to the garage in Blyth to fill a can from the machine. Isn't there a machine still at the Lion Garage?

Hope you didn't fill the car with Esso Blue Maggie!

Believe it or not, my name is actually Mercuryg. Pronounced as written. Not Steve Turnbull, as is otherwise believed. Or Deaf Steve, as often referred to. Or other unrepeatable names.

I've come to notice this, foxy, and wonder why that is.....

Foxy as software is a worrying option

Mrs Tylers ill-thought out Facebook post has certainly stirred up the hornets nest, Malcolm!

He has a right to his opinion, and I shall be drafting a response, but he dwells too much on one area, and misses the point: MAN4bedlington is not about Tesco, was not inspired by the closure of Tesco (which, in my opinion, was inevitable) but is far removed from commercial problems in the town. To not see that is to either be complacent in ones personal situation, or to not actually be concerned. Or, in fact, both.

No, canny lass, we're not. Other parts of the country are, however.