Don't Pack Those Bags Just Yet.

In my post last week, I mentioned that the poor old Hubble Telescope was showing it's age and is soon to be replaced.

Well I was glad to read this morning that it's going out with a bang - not a Big Bang though, so don't get too excited.

Yes it trained it's slightly cloudy electronic eye 'out there' and, to quote the article, found........

one of the best pieces of evidence for the existence of dark matter, a mysterious quantity that pervades our Universe.

The article was amazing in one other way - there was no mention of anything to do with the 'origins of the universe'. You're not sticking to the plan, Hubble !!

Anyway in case I wanted to pay several £billion and have those nice commercially minded and financially strapped Russians blast me off to explore this dark matter, I think I'd need more than a down sleeping bag and the complete set of Doctor Who dvds to keep me amused on the trip.

I get quite tired on the 200 mile flight to London and positively zombie like on the 4000 mile flight to Detroit. I dread to think what I'd be like stepping off, or more likely being stretchered off, the flight to, say, Sydney.

But this dark matter is 5 billion light years away. Yes that's right.........5 BILLION light years. Lets see now. The light from this 'stuff' set off towards us before the start of Coronation Street ! How's that for mind blowing.

I'm not letting that put me off although I have hit a teeny snag in my cunning plan based on Northwest Airlines adding the route to their schedules. I need the airmiles you see but given the destination, and that there IS no air in space, I might have a problem there.

Guess I'll have time to think about that on the way back and on the upside, Leeds United might be in the Premiership by then. Maybe.

Hail Caesar ? Nah, Not In May, Cassius !

God was bored today. I know this for a fact because God messed with me.

I try to go for a walk every day.........my cardiologist says it's good for the old ticker and who am I to argue ? He has more thingies after his name than I do. More money in his bank account too - a LOT of mine for a start.

Anyway, finding dry weather for a walk has been difficult recently as it's been a bit moist, shall we say. At about 2:30pm today however, it was lovely. There were a few fluffy white clouds but plenty of blue. "A bit of blue, a bit of blue for the dads" as Peter Kay would say.

So I set off and in some mad rush of blood to my balding head, I set off sans cap and sans brolly. The sun had obviously affected me before I was out the door.

Everything was perfect and as I lengthened my stride and overtook even the fastest of God's legless creatures, me and Robbie Williams (via my mp3) were getting more fresh air and fun than young Albert could have ever imagined.

About 30 minutes and naturally when I was at the furthest point from my house, it became noticeably darker. Then it started to rain and I really wished I'd taken either my cap or my brolly......preferably both. I'd reached The Dexter on Wigton Lane and was tempted to pop in until the rain stopped but I was on a schedule and it wasn't raining that much anyway.

Then it stopped........hurrah.

Then it started again and with big heavy blobs too. The type that, if they miss you on the way down, splat on the ground and somehow manage to get you on the way up again.

By now I was on Shadwell Lane at the point where the lovely foot and bike path that runs alongside the road has a canopy of branches to protect me from the worst of the rain. After a while the path opened out and afforded no protection from the elements at all. It got darker still and to my amazement it started to hail !

It was mid May, it was in the high 50's in the shade, I was sweating with effort (well I never claimed I was fit) and tiny hailstones were all over the ground like unsupervised kids on a bouncy castle. This lasted for about 15 seconds and then just stopped as if the celestial hailstone bucket had run out.

I walked on. I wasn't particularly wet and preferred the hailstones to the rain, if truth be told.

By the time I got to 'my' estate, the fluffy white clouds were back and the rest of the sky was blue again. The roads were totally dry and it was clear that near my house, there had been no hail, no rain and most likely not even a dark cloud.

I'm convinced I'd been in a real life cartoon scenario where a freak dark hailstone filled cloud had stalked me and when at my furthest point from cover, had shed it's load.

Yes God had been bored from 2:30 to 3:30 today. I'm sure it's happened a lot over the centuries. Ever since Roman times I suspect.

Thanks a lot, ma'am.

Big Bang Falls On Deaf Ears

I love just about everything to do with space. Outer space that is. Have done since Sputnik 1. Clever little Ruskies.

I knew my educational limitations, however, and from an early age I realised I'd probably not make it as an astronaut in my lifetime as they seemed to be super beings far removed from mere mortals like me.........well me at 11 years old anyway.

Now of course, if I had a spare $20m I could be up there. But my Virgin Media bill came today so no Space Station visit for me this month. Damn you Richard.

So I decided that as computers were important to NASA, I'd wangle my way into a career with them that way. Well, I had the career but, sadly, only made it to NASA as a tourist.

Over the years, and over many pints of beer, lager and Amaretto ( ok so I like my Amaretto in pints ), I've often defended the vast sums of money spent on 'getting out there' against the common complaint that 'it could be better spent on....................' Put anything at the end there from feeding starving Africans to building hospitals in Mumbai. Sometimes the defence was pretty hard, if not impossible, but I stuck to my guns or laser pistols or ray guns or whatever.

But there has always been one area of space exploration , to be very general about the words, which I've never been able to defend to the detractors and that's the bit to do with deep space telescopes. Well I need to be more specific here as my problem is with phrases like 'origins of the universe' and so on.

Even when those wonderful brave men (the lucky b*stards) were bouncing about on the moon and hitting golf balls many a mile for our amusement, they were using their little buckets and spades and bringing back samples to keep the scientists busy for decades. Why ? Well to help us learn about the composition of the moon of course. Why ? Well......ah.......so we can see if there was ever life on it. Why ? Ahhh...ummmmm....cough............oh I've got it......to help us better understand the origins of the universe !! There. Knew I'd get there eventually.

I guess the origins of the universe bit didn't matter then as it was lost in all the visual excitement of people actually going to another celestial body. It was the stuff of comics. It was the stuff of daring do. It was the stuff of legends. It was The Right Stuff.

NASA has recently announced it's successor to the Hubble Space Telescope which is now 17 years old and like my old car, well past it's prime. The James Webb Space Telescope will be, to quote NASA.......

.......the premier observatory of the next decade, serving thousands of astronomers worldwide. It will study every phase in the history of our Universe, ranging from the first luminous glows after the Big Bang, to the formation of solar systems capable of supporting life on planets like Earth, to the evolution of our own Solar System.

Hmmmmm. You can see where I have a problem with this. I'm all for watching them scoot off for a paddle along the canals of Mars or to weave around the debris that is the rings of Saturn. That's all visually exciting and with some sort of useful purpose - even if it's just to send back a 'wish you were here' postcard and the Martian equivalent of a Spanish donkey. That's fine by me.

But this telescope alone is costing $4.5bn (£2.3bn), never mind the cost of getting it up there and keeping it plugged in for 10 years. And why ? Well it'll study the history of the Universe.
Quite. And this will be useful to us.....why ? Because....ah.......coughing longer and louder...........ummmmm..........fancy a Martian postcard, sonny ???

And who pays for this thing ? Maybe it'll be sponsored !!!

The Ronald McDonald JW Space Telescope. Has a nice cozy ring to it.

The Marlboro JW Space Telescope...........ohhhh a bit too controversial.

The Screwed Again US Taxpayers JW Space Telescope. Perfect.

I realise this is showing up my narrow mindedness and just because I don't see the point of something, doesn't mean it's not a good thing. I mean look at baseball !

The thing is, if someone gave me a pair of binoculars and placed me on a nudist beach, I too would be using technology to view distant bodies and gaining useful knowledge about their composition. I'd probably get a smack in the face for my efforts but hey, no pain no gain as we say in the scientific community.

So harrahh for the new telescope...........I guess. Those who care about it seem to have been searching for the elusive origins of the Universe for some time now. Probably as long as the sick people in Mumbai have been waiting for that hospital.

Lets hope they all get what they're looking for.....however distant that may be.

Paris In The Springtime

I see that the top BBC story being read online today concerns the terrible plight of Paris Hilton who has been sentenced to 45 days in prison.

Someone on MySpace has organised a petition calling for this 'unfair sentence' to be quashed and I for one am in full agreement.

To quote a passage from the article................

The petition paints Ms Hilton as a role model who "provides hope for young people all over the US and the world. She provides beauty and excitement to (most of) our otherwise mundane lives".

And that, in a nutshell, says it all for me.

So pass me that petition and let me get my John Hancock on it. Then point me towards the other petition that DEMANDS that the spoiled, braindead bimbo has to serve at least 6 months on a Louisiana chain gang just for being who and what she is. Oh, and reinstate the 45 days as well. To run consecutively of course.

And so endeth my shortest post ever - as that's all the time I want to spend on her.

A Grand Day Out

On Monday night I went to bed thinking that I'd like a little trip out in my new car and the forecast for Tuesday was perfect for such thinkings.

I settled into bed with a Twix bar and my Readers Digest "Big Book Of Grand Day's Out" (actually it was called "Places To Visit In Britain" but that's a bit dull I think) and then glanced across at my bedside table and saw that Bill Bryson's "Notes From A Small Island" was still there from when I'd been reading it for the 40th time last week.

I remembered that he said he'd been to Durham and thought that the Cathedral was one of the best, if not THE best, in all of Britain.

That was a good enough hint for me and I put away the RD book and decided there and then to go to Durham.............well, in the morning, of course.

So that was why, at 10:30 yesterday morning, I put a couple of drinks and a few ice packs into a cooler, packed my camera equipment and MP3 player into a backpack and set off for parts north.

I reset all the displays on my car's trip computer and hoped that this trip would finally allow the various numbers to sort themselves out and become more meaningful. I guess the poor little computer couldn't make much sence of two trips totalling 7 miles so far.

Well the drive itself was wonderful. The car was smooth and quiet and the music was rough and loud. Perfect. As I got to Wetherby and onto the A1(M), the computer was doing it's calculations and inwardly thanking me for actually clocking up some decent mileage for it to work with. I was doing 48.5 miles per gallon at just under 70 miles per hour. Wooooohoooooo.

Just before setting off, I'd managed to make contact online with a friend who lives in Bishop Auckland and she said she'd meet me in Durham at 13:30 for lunch and also give me directions where to park in the town centre. Having never been to Durham, I was very happy to accept both offers.

Durham must be one of the easiest major towns to get to from a motorway as within 3 mins of leaving the A1(M) on the A690, I was there. The very simple instructions (straight across 2 roundabouts and then left at the lights and left again) took me to the car park under a shopping centre and within a couple of minutes walk, I was out in the middle of the town.

I'm a big one for first impressions and I immediately loved Durham.

I exited the shopping centre and this was the view before me. There was a picturesque pedestrian bridge over the River Wear with the Castle and Cathedral towering over both. Sadly at this time of day the sun was in my face, literally, and so it's not a great shot.

I went left onto the bridge as this initial view had shown me where the Cathedral was and with 90 minutes to go to my lunch appointment, I felt I had time to at least see the outside of the building even if I had to return later for an inside visit.

Part way across the bridge was this colourful chap making balloon creations for the passing children.

I took this photo looking back the way I'd come and just across from the yellow van was the entrance to the shopping centre.

My immediate thoughts were that this part of Durham was very similar to Whitby and even York. Whitby for the steepness and York for the cobblestones and narrowness of the same streets. As I explored further, these initial thoughts were strengthened as ALL the streets were steep and all were narrow and cobbled.

Yes I loved Durham. It's a famous University town and students from every corner of the world were there in droves. It has a large Asian college and this was reflected in the faces of many of the locals out enjoying lunchtime in the sunshine.

After 'climbing' up to what I'd have to assume was the town square (and even it wasn't flat), I walked on up towards the Cathedral or "The Cathedral Church of Christ, Blessed Mary the Virgin and St Cuthbert of Durham" to give it it's full name.

On the way I paused for breath and took this view down one of the streets to the left.

Despite the dark shadows, you can see the narrowness of the street and those familiar with York should see the similarity.

Continuing up the street, I followed the excellent signposts and took a right towards the Cathedral and Castle.

As I looked up from the cobbles and glanced ahead of me, I saw the twin towers framed by the houses on both sides. It was a beautiful way to first see the Cathedral and as I approached the crest of the steep street, the whole area before me opened out into a stunning quadrangle with the Cathedral taking up one full side and the Castle nestled into a corner across from it.

I walked around the quadrangle and took in the serenity of the location for a while. Apart from a few students sitting in small groups on the raised grass banks nearby. all was peaceful and quiet.

I was slightly surprised by the lack of tourists but then I had to remind myself that despite the unseasonably warm weather, it was May 1st and a weekday.

I was just glad that, busy as the streets below may have been, things were very different up here and somehow that seemed very fitting.

I sat on the grass bank myself and passed the short time before lunch watching people coming and going around the imposing Cathedral. Then I had to leave and walk back down into the town centre where I met up with my friend for a simple meal. Afterwards she volunteered to be my guide and took me up to a park high on the other side of town which gave stunning views across to the Castle and Cathedral.

It was one of those classic times where you climb up to a viewing point with that wonderful sense of anticipation - knowing that something spectacular will be visible at the top which will have made the getting there all worth it.

And so it was with this view. The cherry blossoms and general tree lines shielded the town in such a way that you could only see the Castle and Cathedral. Not that Durham was in any way an ugly town but when you have a view like this, you don't want to see Burger Kings, Yorkshire Banks and rows of terraced houses getting in the way.

After spending a while up on this lofty perch above the town, we made our way back down to the cobbled streets as it was time for my friend and local guide to leave me to my own devices. I returned to the Cathedral and went in. I knew it was free to enter but I hadn't expected the signs warning us that all types of photography were banned.

Seconds after reading the sign, I was approached by a robed steward who seemed to think English wasn't my first language as he told me that photography was not allowed. I told him I'd read the notice already but he kept glancing at the camera hanging over my shoulder and obviously wanted to re-enforce the message.

'Don't mess with us stewards, matey' seemed to be the threatening message he wanted to get across.

I removed my camera from over my shoulder and noticed that it was still turned on and so there was a bright display visible in the gloom of the interior of the building. I clicked the off button and did this just in time as a 2nd robed steward appeared as if he'd teleported from some room where they all gathered to be sent to various locations whenever a camera wielding tourist might just be preparing to violate the rules. We never stood a chance.

I counted over 20 stewards in this Cathedral and assorted others who would gladly take your money to go to the secret special places, answer any questions you might have or simply to badger anyone even carrying a camera around. Apart from a few visitors who were kneeling in the pews deep in prayer or thought and these overwhelming stewards, there were only a handful of people walking around taking in the magnificence of the place. The website says it gets 600,000 visitors a year so maybe they were having an off day too.

But I took issue with Bryson's comments as I didn't think much of the interior of Durham Cathedral. The stained glass that he so admired was dirty and let little light pass through. The supporting stone columns were ridiculously bulky and each one had different designs on them which I found annoying. I like my religious buildings to have symmetry. It just didn't have that feeling to it that I've felt in other religious buildings.

Maybe having those robed stewards shadowing my every move had something to do with it.

I decided to pop next door and visit the Castle only to discover a sign saying it was closed all day.
As I was now 'into' signs, I took this as a sign to go back to the car and head home. It was close to 4pm so I thought I'd try and get back to the parking ticket machine before 4 hours were up and not have to pay more for a 5th. I got there to discover hours 1 to 3 were priced individually but hours from 3 to 6 cost the same.

It was another sign and it was telling me to get my money's worth and go back out and explore a bit more. And what a wonderful sign it was and I'm so glad I got it.

This time I left the car park a different way and avoided the shopping centre. This brought me out on the path that ran alongside the river and would take me under the bridge I'd been on before and also past the towering Castle and Cathedral up on the hill.

Well what a delight it was. I had the path to myself and strolled it's length enjoying the river, the weir and of course the stunning views across and up to my left.

You'll have to enlarge this photo to see details like the bridge. It was great to see it all from this different vantage point - at sea level so to speak. The Castle suddenly looked imposing as a Castle should and the Cathedral looked very impressive and worthy of the title - the greatest Norman building in England.

As I walked along the riverside path, I saw a bird drying it's wings in the sunshine.

It wasn't flapping it's wings in the fashion of a swan but was simply extending them and waiting for nature to do it's thing.

It held this 'look at me' pose long enough for me to have time to switch lenses and snap on the telephoto but it was well out in the middle of the river and this was as close a shot as I could get.

Walking on, I kept looking across at the Cathedral and every few feet provided new photo opportunities. Rarely have I ever walked along a river with such beauty close at hand.

Jumping ahead a bit to Tuesday night when I went to bed to rest my weary bones from all the walking I'd done around Durham, I picked up the RD book again and went to the section on Durham Cathedral and was pleased and somewhat amazed to see they had a sketch of the place from the exact same point of view as I'd taken in this next photo.

I often get frustrated when I see views of places in travel books and magazines which we mere mortals can rarely find when we get there. So to suddenly see that I'd been where the RD artist/photographer had been was very satisfying.

It has to be my favourite VIEW of the day and it's easy to see why it would be chosen for the book.

To be there on such a lovely warm Spring day was a delight.

It was a sobering thought that here I was only 75 miles from home and I 'd never been there before.

We may live on a small island but even after nearly 40 years in England, I've so much more of it still to see.

I was almost at the end of the path by now but there was time for one last photo - and in the time honoured tradition of keeping the best till last, I include it here. The previous photo my have provided the best view of the day, but this last one is my favourite.

Being able to review digital photographs immediately is a blessing and this was a case where the camera showed me a view I didn't see myself at first. I took a photo looking across at the Cathedral right at the end of the path and was so busy composing the image to best show off the building that I missed the fact that it was perfectly reflected in the water !

When I reviewed it, I saw I'd only got part of the reflection as I'd zoomed in too far to get closer to the Cathedral.

I zoomed back and got the image you see here and what a stunning view it is. The light blue cloudless sky and the deep clear blue water provide natural borders for the best structure that man could achieve in Norman Britain.

I loved it and stood for some time taking it in before heading back to the car and the drive home.

In all it was a round trip of 156 miles and I did it using only 3.2 gallons - so wooohoooo for my new car.

All in all, a grand day out.

The End Of The Road For 'Old Red'

I bought a new car over the weekend. I'd had my last one for exactly 10 years and in total, it was 15 years old. I keep things a long time.

I never really liked my previous car as I'd had to buy it in a rush and it would never have been my car of choice if I'd had more time and money available. I guess this made me resent it a bit - although the old girl rarely let me down and hadn't a drop of rust on her. In a previous post, I documented when it reached the magical 100,000 mile mark so although I didn't put many of those miles on her, the previous owner travelled daily from Manchester to Leeds and back and he certainly get her off to a 'good start' so to speak.

I'd had to buy it in a rush as my previous car, my beloved Ford Mondeo, had been stolen from the forecourt of a petrol station while I was inside paying for the petrol. I'd foolishly left the keys in the ignition and some yob who had been waiting and watching for just such an idiot, jumped in and drove off while I watched in stunned disbelief from 20 ft away.

Initially my insurance company refused to pay me as they said my policy clearly stated that the owner must take due care of the car at all times. This would normally relate to leaving the doors open and the engine running while nipping into the chippie but they said it also covered leaving the keys in the ignition of an unlocked car.

I saw their point, of course, but given that I'd just 'lost' a very expensive car and couldn't afford to just go out and buy another one, I fought the insurance company and with the ombudsman in my corner, I won and ended up with more than the value of the car. Victory for the little guy.

Sadly this all took time and in the meantime I needed a car for work. When the news went around the office the day after the theft, a colleague a few desks from mine came and said he was getting a company car in a few days and so needed to sell his current car. I had a look at it in the car park and although it was not the most ugly car in the world, I would never have bought it under normal circumstances. I was a Ford man through and through and this was a Peugeot !! It was also RED - my most loathed car colour.

But it was cheap (as he wanted a quick sale) and he had to be honest about any faults as I worked with him. I was also seduced by all the electric goodies from windows to sun roof which helped offset the fact that it was 5 years old with a lot of miles on it. I bought it there and then.

10 years later and it was time to say goodbye. It's MOT had just run out and I knew it would cost a lot to get it through this year. It hadn't been serviced for 2 years and strange knocking sounds were coming from more than one location. It was a large saloon that guzzled petrol at a frightening and wallet busting rate around town and I rarely went on long drives where it did at least manage a very respectable mpg.

So a new small car was needed. This idea didn't excite me one little bit. I've always dreaded buying cars, new or used. I hate haggling for anything. It's not in my nature and I'm just no good at it. I enter a car dealership as if I'm wearing a t-shirt with "I'm A Mug So Feel Free To Rob Me Blind" written across it.

No, a car is a means to an end for me and although I might sneak a peek at the odd episode of Top Gear, I'm as far from being a petrolhead as you can get. So I did what I do best and did nothing for weeks. I'll do something tomorrow became my mantra. Now and then I'd surf for top 10 lists on various car review sites and narrowed my choice down to a handful of cars.......but did nothing about it.

Then last Thursday I decided I'd REALLY better do something before the DVLA computer spewed out my details and Mr. Plod came knocking on my door asking for non existent paperwork. I went to a Renault dealership as the Clio was top of my list as it ticked most of my boxes, if you follow me. Ok, it mostly ticked the 'cheap enough to buy new' box and the 'economical to run' box just below it. I took one for a test run and when I headed onto the M621, I think the salesman thought he was being kidnapped.

I might not be able to haggle, but I do like to drive !!!

When we got back it started.

"What will it take to get you to buy it ?" he asked.

"Making it a Ford would be a great start" I replied.

While he rolled on the floor and mentally added £100 to the price, I thought it over.

Did I really want to go through this with other dealers ? Hell no.
Did I like the Clio ? Actually, yes.
Was I secure in my own sexuality to get over the fact it's a girlie car ? Not sure.
Did they have one in my first choice of blue ? No.
When would they have one in blue for me ? 6-8 weeks.

Dang it.

To get me to wait the 6-8 weeks for a blue car, the price was dropped and a few goodies were offered to soften the delay. Protective coating on the paintwork and some sort of fabric guard on the upholstery. Whoop-di-do. Now if a pigeon crapped on the passenger seat, the mess would just slide off like a turd on an ice rink.

I said I'd take the deal and wait the 6 weeks. I'd just hide if Mr. Plod came a-calling and plead insanity if he gained entry. I'd use Leeds United's plummet into Division 1 as the obvious cause for this insanity and I'm sure I'd be treated sympathetically.

Then the salesman said they had a white one upstairs that was being prepared for the showroom. This was news to me as all the reviews I'd read online had claimed the only solid colour for this model was blue. Apparently not. So although I said no to this idea, I'd nothing better to do at 5pm on a Thursday afternoon so I went upstairs with him to have a gander at this white version.

It was like a scene from a Disney movie from yesteryear. Right in the far corner of this huge cavernous floor (can a floor be said to be cavernous ? Well you get the picture) sat a brilliant white Clio. It called to me. Being a Renault I'd no idea what it was saying of course but a bond was made and I wanted it.....or her. Whatever.

Of course I kept my excitement well hidden so as not to show my hand - but my girlie screams and cartwheels around the floor kind of attracted attention.

I beamed.

The salesman beamed.

My bank manager tut-tutted.

Sod him. I wanted whitey.

Emboldened by all this haggling, I said I'd take it if I could still have the deal I was offered downstairs.......the one that was meant to sweeten the 6 week wait for a blue model. Obviously worn down by such professional haggling, the salesman gave in and like his colleague from Del Monte, he say YES.

That was Thursday evening and it took a couple of days to sort out the paperwork, registration, insurance and of course, to slap on the paint protector and fabric turd suppressant. So at noon last Saturday I drove 'old red' on it's last short trip (by me anyway) and handed her over in part exchange. The paperwork showed that the dealership had finangled the figures to show that they had paid me a token £1 for her. I knew that wasn't true but I didn't mind.

I may not have liked her as much as I should but she'd given me 10 years excellent service.

So now I've embarked on a new era.....car wise. Me and whitey. The odometer has changed from 100127 to 9 so we have a long ways to go.

I've a couple of trips coming up (Nottingham and mid Wales) so will get a better idea if I've made a good choice.

Am I excited ?

Sure I am. I can now relax and not rush upstairs and hide everytime someone knocks at the door - well unless they're Jehovah's Witnesses of course !!

Holy Water - A Blessing In Disguise ?

I read an article today which dragged up many almost forgotten religious memories from my childhood and early adulthood as, being raised in N. Ireland, I had a fairly strict Catholic upbringing.

One can create quite a long list of 'hard to fathom' rules, regulations and beliefs from any religion, but Catholicism must be up there with one of the longest.

From confession to communion, I'd be here all day if I went through all of the ones on my personal list - but holy water has always been one of my favourites.

I must say I'd never considered the use of holy water as being potentially dangerous to your health before. Then again I guess I never thought of anyone taking it internally either. No, I'd enough on just getting my head around the idea that it was holy at all and who or what had bestowed this holiness upon it ? I mean couldn't a sweeping worldwide blessing be made so that all water is holy ? I may be missing the point here I guess and certainly missing a commercial opportunity.

Now it's not my intention to belittle or ridicule the beliefs of anyone, but it's always been MY way to look at things with a cynical eye and most religious beliefs have always been a struggle for me - the struggle to have faith in those things that you cannot prove exist.

I remember in my mid teens, we all set off for a family trip to Knock in Southern Ireland. Now THERE is a place which stretches faith to it's limits. Like the more famous sites of Lourdes and Fatima and others, Knock is a Marion shrine which gets almost 2 million visitors every year. I've no problem with that as such as even I can get special vibes and feelings of serenity when in certain locations. No, not the pub, you philistines.

But Knock is like a religious Disney site with everyone wanting a cut of the action. When a Papal visit was on the cards in 1979, an international airport was built to cater for the increase in visitors this would bring about. So what ? Well glance at the palm of your right hand (which roughly resembles a map of Ireland) and focus on the knuckle of your pinkie finger. That's where Knock is and given the remoteness of the area, could be the reason for the birth of the expression 'middle of nowhere'.

So this airport was built and was capable of dealing with the largest commercial plane of the day......the Boeing 747 or Jumbo Jet. Once the Pope had left and the fuss and excitement died down, this airport, built at a cost of many millions of punts (pre Euro days) dealt mostly with light aircraft and the odd small jet and was seen by everyone as the biggest 'white elephant' in Europe. A Jumbo landing on a white elephant.........gotta love our language !!

But then something amazing happened - well maybe not so amazing to anyone who knows what certain people will do to make a pilgrimage to a religious site. In a sort of 'build it and they will come' scenario worthy of Kevin Costner, people started to flock in increasing numbers to Knock and soon the sheep were moved off the runway as the big planes flew in. The airport now deals with 250,000 passengers a year and has direct flights to New York and, naturally, Boston.
Never disregard the power and commercial implications of faith.

But back to our family trip - a trip taken long before the airport was built and when the runway was still just a field of dreams. Literally.

At that time the commercial interests weren't so 'in your face' and you actually had to seek out the sellers of rosary beads, scapulas, glow-in-the-dark statues and crucifixes. Ahhhhh innocent times indeed.

What has always stuck in my mind though, is when my mother wanted to fill up her numerous plastic bottles with holy water to keep our house well supplied for decades to come. As a slight aside, I wonder how many thousands of little bottles of holy water were taken from pilgrims flying out of Knock airport last year when the restrictions on liquids in your carry on luggage came into force ??? I bet that caused some interesting conversations with the security staff !!

"But it's HOLY water I tell you"

"Well I've only your word for that, sir"

"Look, it says Product Of Knock on the label"

"So, big deal, you still can't take it onboard. Why not just drink it ?"

"Are you mad !! I said it was Holy, not Hygenic"


So we glanced at our "Guide to Knock" map and set off to find some holy water. If memory serves me right, and increasingly these days it doesn't, we followed the map and came to a low wall with a simple tap set into it. A sign above the tap said "Holy Water" and there was a short line of people ahead of us waiting to fill up their containers.

It was a singular moment of supreme faith that my mother said nothing at all and calmly joined the line and filled up her bottles when the time came. Me ? Well the whole situation had set my inquisitive mind working overtime. I mean I'd seen small pools of water blessed and so 'made' holy from time to time but to see a constant supply from a tap classed as holy........well it blew me away. Was the tap blessed so that any water it delivered would be holy by default ? Had the water tank serving the tap been blessed ? If so, what about new water to replace it....was it blessed every Wednesday morning or something just to be on the safe side ?

I just remember making the suggestion that if our local parish priest came round to our house and blessed the tap in our kitchen, then we'd never have to visit Knock again AND it had to increase the value of our property !!

I had to live with the guilt of THAT suggestion for a loooooong time.

I'm In The Money. The Noo

Like most people, I get those wonderful African emails from time to time telling me I can go out and buy a row of terrace houses in Leeds or a garage in Mayfair as oooddles of money is coming my way thanks to some............well some total stranger usually.

Bless these wonderful unknown humanitarians but enough already. Give someone else a chance now. Share the wealth I say. The only slight quibble is that I just feel so darn letdown when no money arrives. Indeed in some sort of spooky coincidence, my bank account actually goes down soon after.

Haven't worked that one out yet.

Anyooo I got a lovely one today from closer to home. At least I think so. Hard to tell really but who cares as £1million is heading my way........again. I just can't believe how fortunate I am to keep winning money like this.

I've noticed that the grammar and general syntax is a bit off but then it's probably been translated from the original Scottish.......so fair enough. Jimmy.

In gratitude, I'm going to become a Dundee United season ticket holder.

As a Leeds fan, it's about time I watched some half decent football !!

PROMOTION DEPARTMENT Ref: BT:12052005/21 Batch: 12/25/0034 APRIL 13, 2007

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A Knee Jerk Reaction ?

Last summer I stepped up my exercise walking, so to speak, and would go out for 5 or 6 mile walks every day.

Sometimes I'd be enjoying it so much I'd go 7 or more miles.

Every so often my left knee would give me a sharp pain and as a result, my leg would semi crumple and I'd stumble for a pace or two. It didn't happen on every walk and as I was leaving for my 6 months in America, I didn't want to see my doctor about it then. I also got the odd pain going up and down the stairs and this wasn't good as a crumple on the stairs would have risked potentially serious consequences.

While over in the US I continued my walking most days and once again, every so often the knee would give the same sharp pain. After Christmas, even though I was in Florida. I wasn't walking as much and I wasn't getting any pains either. On my return in February this year, I mostly gave up on walking and noticed I wasn't getting any pains when using the stairs.

However I did go to my doctor and he said he'd make an appointment for me to see a physiotherapist at the local hospital and that took place yesterday. Gotta love the NHS.

Anyway as I'd not had a pain of any sort all year, I felt a bit of a cheat in the physio dept when everyone else was in a wheelchair, on crutches, using walking sticks or pushing walkers.

The lovely physio (Katie) said I'd done the right thing and after a chat and an exam, she said my left knee was slightly 'wasted' (trust me to have a drunk knee !!) and the pain was caused when some of the cartilage between the bones had been trapped or nipped.

So in order to strengthen the poor old knee, she showed me 3 easy exercises which I was to do several times a day and she'd see me again in 2 weeks time.

Well I started them this morning and also did them just before setting out on my walk today. I did my usual 3 mile easy route and guess which was the only part of my body to give me some discomfort by the end.........yes the part that I'd exercised prior to my walk - my left knee !

Go figure.

Golden Acre Park

As I've said many times before, I'm very fortunate to have countryside almost on my doorstep and even when that's not enough, there are several beautiful parks within a few minutes drive.

Today was a stunning Spring day with a cloudless sky and temps good enough for a t-shirt if you were under 30 or so.......and a light jacket or a fleece if like me, you've not seen 30 for a decade or two.

In my case, I also blame the blood thinners !!

I wanted a change from my normal walking routes around the estate and so I drove 10 minutes to Golden Acre Park which is 137 acres of park, lake, forest and floral gardens about 6 miles north of Leeds city centre.

One of the first species of flower or plant you come across in the park is the aptly named Yellow Skunk Cabbage which is normally found in the northern and eastern states of America - hence it's 'proper' name of Lysichiton Americanus.

Don't worry, this is the first and last time I'll identify anything on this post as I don't want it to be a serious or educational entry.

God forbid.

Ok it's more because I can't identify anything else and I'm only able to talk about this one because there was a sign giving it's name AND it gave off a nasty smell just like....a skunk. I say, it, but there were dozens of them in a small pool area just at the entrance to the park.

So much for getting fresh air on this walk !

I'll have to just line up the rest of the
non animal photos now as I've no idea what they are.

None are flowers of course and so I guess they'd come under the general classification of blossoms.

As it's only early April, the park is still coming out of it's winter hibernation and it'll be a while before the flower beds burst forth in a stunning display of colours and variety.

Click on any of the photos to enlarge them - and you might need to do that with the one above as it does look like it's got a covering of snow.

The trees and bushes were doing their best to compensate for the lack of colour elsewhere. This was great from a visual point of view but not good from a photographic point of view. Everytime I tried to compose my shots, the wind would pick up and gently move the branches - making my life that much more difficult.

Sometimes a lack of colour can be just as pleasing to the eye as vibrant reds and greens and yellows.

I know white IS a colour but you know what I mean.

Once again I'd taken my monopod with me instead of my tripod and it came in very useful at times.

It gives a degree of stability without taking a long time to set up. In fact, I leave it connected to the camera most of the time and simply compress it down to it's minimum length when taking action photos.

The park has several hills and steep climbs and the monopod came in handy as a walking stick.

I'm not quite at THAT age but after walking around for about 3 hours, I was happy to have it for the final climb back up to the car !!

Golden Acre Park can be entered from the top or the bottom and today I'd driven to the top car park which meant I had a downward walk to start with, which is what I wanted.

This walk is along an unpaved but smooth path that winds it's way down to the edge of the forest area and on towards the lake.

Well it's a bit of a fib to call it a forest as it's really just a wood at best.

The path then takes you over a narrow bridge and on along the edge of the lake to an area where the visitors congregate to feed the assorted wildlife which treat the lake as home at this time of year.

Despite it being a few days before Easter, the park was relatively quiet and almost free of visitors.

Apart from loving couples who were lying on the grass all over the park discussing world events (yeah right !!) , there were a few families with young children who were enjoying feeding the ducks and swans. Well they were throwing bread crumbs AT the ducks and swans who were ignoring them for the most part as they are probably the best fed wildlife outside of a zoo.

I love how they glide over the water. For a change the park lake is very clean and you can clearly see their 'feet' working away like motorised paddles under the water while above, all is calm and serene.

There was a delightful family unit with mom and dad and about 8 or 9 cute little ducklings in tow.

As with the lambs I photographed a few weeks ago, these young 'uns never strayed far from their parents and it was funny to see them all wheel around as one unit any time someone or something came too close to them.

What they lacked in size, they more than made up for in speed and mom and dad had a hard time keeping up.

Control was maintained by a series of alert quacks but also aided by the inbred sense that the ducklings had to not go off too far from their parents while wanting to explore their big new world.

As in the human world, everything can't be peaceful and harmonious all the time and fights do break out.

I've no idea what caused the big fracas while I was there but I'm sure it had more to do with raging hormones than empty stomachs.

It was certainly a sight to behold as about 6 swans tore into each other for a good 30 seconds - it started on dry land and then progressed onto the water, at which point I took a series of photos.

I'd no idea what I'd got as, for the most part, all I could see were flapping wings and a melee worthy of a bunch of fighting soccer hooligans.

When the dust (and the water) settled, I checked the photos and realised most weren't worth keeping as they just showed a huge mass of intertwinned swan bodies. This one I liked though, even though it was at the end of the skirmish when only 2 swans were still nipping at each other.

Now we all know that swans have short fuses and can be threatening when they themselves feel threatened, but I certainly had never thought of ducks as being ill tempered.

I was sitting on a bench near the lake reviewing my photos to that point, when two ducks approached with little or no fear of me.

Suddenly one of them lost it's cool and basically attacked the other one. In a rare example of animal bullying, it pinned it's colleague 's head to the ground and kept it there for some time.

I just couldn't sit and watch this injustice anymore and having taken the photo, I calmly, and with no thought of my personal safety, told the bully to behave and let the other one go.

Sadly just like when I did the same at school, I was totally ignored so I stood up and this did the trick. The ducks parted........turned and savagely attacked me leaving me bleeding and close to death by the side of the lake.

Oh I'm only joking of course. No, I killed them both and will have them tomorrow for supper.
Death to all bullies.

There was a large information board nearby with images of all the waterfowl likely to be spotted on or around the lake and I wish now that I'd taken a photograph of it......cause then I might know just what the hell I DID photograph.

This fella was quite unmoved, literally, by my presence as I crept, ninja-like, closer and closer to him....or her.

By now it was after 6pm and the birds were settling down for the evening.

All over the park, they were meeting up with their buddies and sitting, if that's the right term, on the grass.

The ducks just sat......and closed their eyes. The swans had a much more impressive and elaborate ritual where they did a lot of preening, followed by a bit of neck and wing stretching and would finally squat down on the grass and lower their long necks down onto the tops of their bodies and end up like a large white bowling ball. Well only the white swans could do this of course !

This is a photo of such a white swan just on it's way down, so to speak.

One leg has already been lifted upwards and the whole body is now on it's way down to the ground.

The neck is also on the way to ending up nestled on top of it's body and in about 2 seconds, the long necked, graceful creature I'd seen gliding over the water was effectively curled up like a huge marshmallow for the evening.


Isn't nature wonderful ??

I felt like an intruder in some sort of vast countryside bedroom, so I tiptoed away and headed back to the car.

Just to prove there is other wildlife in the park apart from those of the watery persuasion, here is a final shot I took on the way out.

I'm not quite sure what he has in his paws but he was pretty skittish and didn't care for my approach.

I guess the squirrels in Buttonwood Bay are much more used to humans and maybe this one had good reason to be suspicious of me.

It certainly wasn't going to approach me and as such, this was as close as I got. After this photo, he scampered off into the woods.

Maybe it was past his bedtime too.

I got to the car and 10 minutes later I was back home. It may not have been as energetic a walk as I'm used to, but I think it's good to throw in something different now and then.

I didn't work up a sweat or anything. I'd even taken the hills slowly so as not to get out of breath.

In fact, all in all, you could say it was just......a walk in the park.

Water Water Everywhere.............

Yesterday was a lovely spring day and so I headed out to get some fresh air and, if nothing else, document a momentous event in the history of the motor car.

More of that later.

One of the benefits of living in N.Leeds is that it only takes about 30 mins to get up into The Dales and so, after a lovely carvery lunch at The Wellington Pub on Wetherby Road (get there early as it gets very busy), I drove up the A1 until I reached the A684 turnoff.

I love this road westwards as it takes you through tiny hamlets and villages with names like Little Crakehall, Patrick Brompton, Constable Burton and Swinithwaite in just a few miles. You couldn't make those up if you tried.

The picturesque church at Patrick Brompton, aptly named St. Patricks, is right on the main road and next to the Green Tree pub. I'm sure both are popular on a Sunday and I can just see the congregation moving from one to the other - although which way I'm not sure.

I like to stop there for a while as the setting is so beautiful and even the scenic graveyard is worth a visit........a temporary visit of course.

But my real destination yesterday was Aysgarth and it's famous triple flight of waterfalls known simply as Aysgarth Falls.

These were the falls featured in the 1991 movie "Robin Hood, Prince Of Thieves" where Robin (Kevin Costner) first met and then fought with Little John (Nick Brimble) and both got kinda wet.

I just hope it was filmed in high summer as the water was extemely cold yesterday.

The following year, the Falls played host to the crew filming "Wuthering Heights" but I don't think Ralph Fiennes even got his feet wet.

The very steep road down to the Falls leads off the A684 and there is a car park a few yards down on the right which is part of a cafe/restaurant - and so payment is necessary.

Being tight, I drove back up to the pub at the top of the hill on the A684 and parked there for free. I told myself it only added a few yds to the walk which was fine on the way down, but those yds seemed like miles on the way back up.

As soon as you start down the hill, you can hear the roar of the Falls.

As waterfalls go, Aysgarth isn't impressive in the classic style - a long drop into a scenic pool.

It's more in the style of the Horseshoe section of Niagara but on a MUCH smaller scale of course.

These Falls spread over a large area but although the 'drops' are quite small, the overall effect is still impressive and well worth a visit.

Given the time of year and that I don't think schools break up until next week, I almost had the place to myself. In high season I very much doubt that I could've got parked up at the roadside pub and I know that I'd have had plenty of company down by the Falls.

As it was, I was able to pick my spots for taking photos and not be bothered by kids, dogs or screaming babies. I really have become the quintessential 'old fart' who likes his scenery unspoilt by such distractions.

This view shows the 'horseshoe' section and without having the movie to refer to right now, certainly looks like the area where Costner got much more than his toes wet.

I've been here in summer and seen numerous kids wading across the rocks - and good luck to them, I say.
As a youngster I'd have done the same myself as I was always one for crossing streams, climbing rocks and
generally not being content to sit still on the picnic rug with mom and dad when we'd be out for the day.

I hadn't taken the tripod with me as I knew the walk down and up that hill would be bad enough with the camera equipment and so I settled for the monopod as it's almost like a walking stick and so had more than one use.

I wanted to take some slow speed photographs to give that satin look to the flowing waters and I felt the monopod would keep the camera steady enough for that purpose. Being able to sit on the staircase like rocks and set the monopod firmly between my legs and on the ledges below meant I got the (rock) steady platform I needed.

I took the usual photos to 'freeze' the water (shutter speeds above 250th/sec) but then dropped it down to a 15th/sec or even a 10th/sec to get the results you see here.

I like both views but prefer the slow speed ones better. Most point and shoot cameras aren't capable of taking them and it shows some degree of photographic skill and ability even though I regard myself as a simple snapper.

If nothing else, it helps me to justify the cost of my camera when I utilise it's capabilities like this !!

Visitors reach the Falls by going through a couple of gates at the bottom of the steep hill and crossing a small grassy park area which has plenty of picnic tables and room for families to spread out and enjoy the views.

Just above the Falls, before the waters of the River Ure reach the limestone rocks, there is a very calm and serene area with incredible trees and their roots which are mostly above ground for some bizarre reason.

Yesterday a slight mist lay over the water and it was slowly creeping up onto the land. It was quite eerie and with no one else around, I felt a few chills that weren't fully explained by the sudden dip in temperature.

After hearing noises coming from under the extensive root system, I told myself I'd seen enough there was little to be served by going further.

That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

I packed up and headed up THAT hill to get back to the car. In previous years I'd have semi jogged it's length but yesterday age and health were both against me and several snails passed my wheezing tortured body. Half way up I paused for breath at the gates of St. Andrews Church which claims to have the largest churchyard in England.

Apart from giving it the cursory glance it usually gets from me, I didn't have the energy or the inclination to go in. The rest of the hill beckoned and I needed all my strength to master it.

I've never been so happy to see my car and was glad I had a 6 pack of coke in the trunk. I needed them all.

I took the B6160 down to Kettlewell and it was a joy to be on it when not in any rush at all. It's a classic narrow Dales road with just about room for cars to pass. It would not be possible to travel on it with any sort of US trailer, 5th wheel or motorhome as any vehicle other than a family car would have problems with oncoming traffic.

At one point I came up behind this tractor pulled slurry tank and was happy that I had the time to keep well behind it at a 'safe' distance.

Why ? What is slurry, you ask ?

Farm slurry is a mixture composed chiefly of water and animal sewage. It has a distinct odour, noticeable when the substance is carried in tankers, or spread over fields.

Yes, it's nasty stuff and as often happens when you're NOT in a rush, it turned into a field after only a few minutes and I was able to speed on home. But you can see my point about the narrow road.

At this time I was keeping a safe but close eye on my car's odometer which had been clicking relentlessly towards the magic 100,000 mile mark on this trip.

I wanted to record this momentous event and was glad that I had the B6160 mostly to myself as I planned on stopping and taking a photo of the odometer on 99999 and then again on 100000.

In case anyone thinks I took these pics while driving, you can clearly see the speedo pointer thingy is resting on zero - ok it's looks more like 5 mph but I can assure you I wasn't moving !!!

My car may be old and as proved by the odometer, has been around the block a few times, but there isn't a bit of rust on it anywhere and it gets me from A to B the few times I feel like a trip to B. Very pretty place.

Anyhooo, after watching the sunset over some sheep in a field near Kettlewell, I made it to the A65/A660 and back to Leeds in time for a late supper.

So if you're in the area, give Aysgarth Falls a visit. Just remember, despite what Hollywood would have you think, it's not anywhere near Sherwood Forest !

Shamed By My Colleagues

I'm considering suing 2 of my fellow members of the esteemed paparazzi club for bringing shame and embarrassment to our noble profession.

According to this BBC report, my 'friends' were simply trying to do their decent and law abiding jobs by taking unwanted and unnecessary photographs of 2 'C' list actresses on location on a movie shoot in some Canadian resort last year when they were physically and verbally assaulted by said 'actresses'.

I'm not naming names just in case I get slapped with a law suit for further ridicule.

Now for some reason we have no photos of these paparazzi chappies but I'd have to think that, like myself, they are strapping young men with ripped abs, quite adept at throwing their considerable weight around in scrums outside nightclubs and able to ascend walls and trees in a single bound - if there is a financially worthwhile photo opportunity on the other side.

So what was the verbal abuse which reduced them to quivering heaps of inhumanity and brought down embarrassment, shame and ridicule upon them ?

One of the actresses called them 'paparazzi scum' !!! Oh my goodness. The shame, the shame of it.

Well fog my intrusive zoom lens but isn't one of those words redundant anyway ???

And the physical abuse ? Well the report doesn't say if any wrist slapping, or handbag waving or, given the buxom attributes of both actresses, if boob swinging in an enclosed space was involved, but at some point laptops were thrown off a balcony.

What a one sided and mighty battle of the sexes it must've been. I'm shocked there were ANY survivors.

I know these guys like to get their reports and photos off to their quality papers and magazines as fast as possible, but I didn't realise they carried their laptops around with them while trying to get their sneaky images. I'm surprised they don't employ clapped out sherpas to haul all their gear around when on these obviously dangerous and emotionally draining assignments.

And where has this law suit been lodged ? Yes, you've guessed it. In Los Angeles Superior Court. God forbid that any serious legal work should go on there.

I tell you, the world has gone mad, mad I tells ya.

I sure hope they still managed to get photos of the actresses despite the obvious dangers to their well-being, as my celeb scrapbook has a full page screaming out for more images. It's in the 'Who Needs An Oscar When I've Got Huge Boobs And Teeth" section and although it's pretty full, there is always room for 2 more.

God bless you young men. I hope you get every cent that you deserve.

A (Not So) Little Piece Of History

Like most people, I like to have souvenirs of my trips away from home.

I remember when I went to Spain in the 70's, I brought back one of those glass drinking vessels that the locals used to pour alcohol into their mouths from a great height and that we tourists would pour all over ourselves in an attempt to copy them.

When I went to Paris I brought home a little bronze miniature of the Eiffel Tower.

From Austria , a wall shield with some sort of crest on it.

From Ireland, loads of tat with shamrock motifs.

And so on and so on. Not exactly anything to impress the neighbours, or even me come to that.
Mugs with logos, pens with country names along the sides, letter openers with city names, little figurines in national costumes.........you name it, I bought it.

When I was working and going to America for the traditional 3 or 4 weeks a year, I was visiting every state and got a key fob or a cigarette lighter from every one. This was quite bizarre as I've never smoked and so the lighters have remained in a big plastic bag ever since and are probably bone dry now and useless for all practical purposes.

Every inch of my fridge/freezer was covered with magnets from all over the place and opening the doors would involve a good work out.

I dare not add up the cost of all these souvenirs but I'm sure they'd easily get me a return flight to Hawaii or a Caribbean cruise.

And are ANY of them on display in or around my house now? Not a one. Well ok the magnets are still on the fridge/freezer but that's just because they're better off where they are rather than in another plastic bag.

Today I visited a friend who had been to China late last year.

Did he bring back a cuddly Panda ?

No.

Did he bring back a mug with Shanghai on the side ?

No

Some rubble from THE wall maybe ?

Nope.

His souvenir was a full size replica of a terracotta warrior !!

Holy excess baggage, Batman.

This 'big boy' weighs in at close to 400 lbs - that's the warrior and not my friend, btw.

I asked him to pose with his Chinese takeaway for the sake of scale and as he's not a midget either, I'd have to think the warrior is a full 6ft tall.

Now THAT'S a souvenir.

And the funny thing is, not only is it different from any of MY souvenirs in size, weight, cost and WOW factor, but in one even more amazing way...................

It doesn't have MADE IN CHINA stamped on it anywhere. Go figure.

I Joined The Paparazzi

I had to go into Leeds city centre yesterday as I had a meeting with my financial advisor and I also wanted to get my eyes tested.

The two appointments just happened to be on the same day and nothing should be read into it !!

I don't like going into Leeds very much as like most big UK cities, it's dirty and crowded and.....well just a modern UK city really. Yes there are a few good places to stop and spend a few minutes taking in the views and for this reason I took my camera with me.

I parked at Crown Point as usual as you get the first 3 hrs free and it's only a 10 minute walk to the city centre stores and as I approached the shopping centre, I was taken with the progress of Bridgewater Place which at 137m, although still under construction, is already the tallest building in the city. For the last 9 months I'd only seen it via the construction web cam and it's just not the same.

I've never been a fan of the Leeds planning rules which seem to have given us a city of dull brown buildings all looking much the same. New city centre 'riverside' apartment blocks are going up like crazy with prices to match - but they all look the same to me...........unimpressive concrete nonentities with hundreds of little balconies breaking up their otherwise flat boring facades.

Bridgewater Place is different and then some. It would be worthy of a location in Chicago, a city which claims to be the home of the skyscraper and has many of the most beautiful within it's limits.

This view, from the middle of the road alongside the shopping centre, doesn't show it off that well but you get the overall look of the place.

The bottom 10 floors will be for office space and the top 20 will be for apartments; I'm not sure what the other 2 floors will be for but i'm sure they'll make money somehow.

It was lovely spring day and the building stood out well against the blue sky and I was glad I had the chance to see it at it's best.

After my appointments in town, I stopped off at Costco on the way home and as I was parking, I saw Chris Chittell who plays Eric Pollard in the ITV soap, Emmerdale. He was leaving the store with an elderly lady who could have been a relative or just a friend. Whatever the relationship, he was kindless itself and gently helped her along and took his time loading the shopping from the cart before helping her into his small SUV.

I quit watching Emmerdale many years ago when it stopped being about farming folk and changed it's name from Emmerdale Farm. I catch bits of it when waiting for Corrie to start and so know a few character names but in any case, Chris/Eric has been in the show for over 20 years and so it's a case of 'I'd know that face anywhere'. Even coming out of Costco.

As he was pushing his empty cart back to the store, I pounced ! I'd never ever asked a personality for a photograph in my life but the camera was on the passenger seat and I thought.....what the hell. I thought about taking candid shots with the telephoto lens in true paparazzi style but in the end I wanted a good portrait so I went for the full frontal assault.

Well he was the sweetest man and smiled as I approached him. He said I reminded him of a friend of his which may have explained the greeting. He asked how I was and what I was doing there and we chatted like old pals before I remembered why I'd approached him in the first place and asked if I might take his photo ? He was as pleased as if I'd handed him a £20 note and posed like the professional he is.

I thanked him, he thanked me and he offered his hand. I went down on one knee, proposed and the wedding is next Saturday at noon !!

No I made that last bit up.....no really....but he has been married several times on the show so I had to be careful not to be partner No.5.

But the handshake was genuine.

If that's how easy it is to be a paparazzi, then I'm in. I somehow don't think getting a snap of Elton John coming out of The Body Shop would be so easy so I may just quit while I'm ahead and have all my limbs intact.

Chris, you may not be an A list celeb but as a gent, you're a star in my book.

A Wintery Spring

Tuesday was a very odd day weatherwise.

As I was sitting in my chair catching up on emails, I looked out the window and saw just a few lovely fluffy white clouds looking like floating marshmallows on a sea of azure blue.

So where was the snow we'd been 'promised' by the BBC weather experts ?

While thinking of the £millions that have been spent on the technology to get us to the point where weathermen can be totally ACCURATE about giving us the WRONG forecast up to 10 days in advance now, I decided to get out and enjoy the spring weather before they messed it all up.

I don't have much of a front garden as life is too short to spend much of it dealing with grass cutting and flower arranging but despite this lack of care and attention, I do have a few hardy and colourful daffs which wanted to stand up and shout out that it's springtime.

And here is one of them........looking smart and clever and not thinking of cold and snow at all......not one little bit. No, no ,no.

I'd also been told by a friend that she had seen some lambs in a field about a mile away around the ring road and so I decided to go and find them myself.

As I got to the car, I noticed a dramatic change in the skies. Arriving from the east were some nasty snow bearing clouds and I wasn't even sure I'd get to the main road before they dropped their load.

I was wrong.......but not by much. As I drove along the ring road, my world went considerably darker and white snowflakes started bouncing of the hood. I was tempted to give up and turn around but decided to at least find the lambs if only so I could come out another day to photograph them more easily.

Just before I got to the Wetherby Roundabout, I glanced to the right and there they were. The field was part of Cobble Hall Farm and a narrow road ran from the main ring road right to the farm and beyond and so I took it to get a closer look.

At this time of year, ewes are even more skittish than usual and those with lambs are naturally anxious to look after their newborns. I drove as slowly and quietly as my old rustbucket would allow and decided to take this initial photo quickly just in case it was the closest I'd get.
You can see that it was still snowing lightly and I really felt for the lambs who probably wondered what on earth they'd let themselves in for.

Then, wonder of wonders, the skies cleared and became mostly blue again. I parked at the side of the lane and got out to do my 'Crocodile Dundee' stealthy approach to the sheep and lambs so as not to scare the bejesus out of them. The high hedge was a mixed blessing - one one hand it shielded me from the field but of course on the other hand it made taking photos quite a bit trickier.

The lambs didn't know what to make of the moving shrubbery and strange grunts (and a few curses) coming from behind it.

The brambles were thick and clothes- rippingly sharp and pointy. I often had to elbow them to one side whilst shoving the camera further into the hedge. Then it was a case of trying to get my eye to the viewfinder in order to compose the image. Oh and remember my subjects were prone to go galloping off like startled deer at the slightlest provocation.

But once I'd got settled and wasn't making any noise, the lambs and their moms did forget about me and would come closer as they nibbled on the grass.

I'd obviously arrived at meal time as I didn't see any examples of gambling or playful running and jumping of any kind. So no chance to test out the sport setting on my camera or my ability to make best use of it.

Maybe another time.

I took all the field shots I wanted but I really wanted to see if any lambs were being held indoors for hand rearing and for this, I needed to drive on up to the farm.

As I approached the out buildings, I noticed activity around a large shed and went to investigate.

One of the two men there was the farm manager and when I asked if he had any lambs indoors that I could photograph, he kindly left his task and took me to them.

I was very conscious of not wanting to waste his valuable time - so I didn't mess about looking for the perfect angle or lighting and basically just snapped away.

This little fella wasn't the most photogenic lamb of the bunch but he did like to interact.......well with the farm manager at least. Any time you put a hand towards a lamb, it'll want to suckle on a finger or three. I'm no Attenborough but it seemed to me that these hand reared lambs had much less fear of humans than the ones out with their moms in the fields. That has to be down to the moms and makes perfect sense.

When I was skulking behind the hedge earlier, I noticed that any lambs that saw or heard me would just stop eating grass and watch. It was only when the moms saw me and made bleating noises as a warning, that the lambs would scatter.

The ones in the shed were getting no such warning bleats and with nothing in their short lives telling them otherwise, they were fearless, curious and even friendly......like pets.

Maybe this is the basis for the expression 'like lambs to the slaughter' as these lambs would've followed the manager anywhere he went.

We went to another little shed where one classic looking lamb was all alone. I've no idea why the manager was keeping it apart from the others but physically it looked much younger than the rest and so maybe it was just a case of age difference.

I asked if the manager could pick him up as that would provide a better angle than I was getting looking down from above. To his eternal credit, he did so without hesitation and I can't thank him enough for taking time away from his work to be so helpful.

He asked if I wanted to hold the little critter but coming from a farming background, I'd held my fair share of lambs when growing up in Ireland and didn't need to hold this one.

Besides, I couldn't just lay down the camera as we WERE in a farm shed after all and this was a piece of expensive hi-tech gear.

I settled for a quick head pet and he was just as soft as he looks.

The lamb too !!!

Mr Manager then asked if I'd like to see some calves and after the initial exciting thought that he was offering me the opportunity to take some saucy shots of his good lady wife, I soon realised we were heading AWAY from the farm house and towards the cow sheds.

D'oh !!!

The manager first took me to a calf that had been born the previous day. It was still 'damp' and wobbling a bit on it's legs and wouldn't come out from behind it's mom and I didn't get a photo.

The next shed had this calf which was a few days old. I had a quick word with him and asked how he was getting on in his big new world and had he heard about sirloin and rump steaks ? But the little sneak ran to mom and told her everything........as you can see in the photo, and she was NOT amused.

By now my white trainers were taking on a distinctly country-fied colour and smell and so I decided to call it a day and let the manager get back to doing what a manager does.

As I left and drove down the lane towards the ring road, I took one more look at the lambs in the field - but they were STILL eating. I think I've a lot in common with them.

Just then the snow flurries returned and I drove home in a mini blizzard.

Maybe those £millions weren't wasted after all.