Ok, so ITV have still not apologised to the World for wrecking that Celtic v Man United game. I waited a week but no apology.
Life must go on… GRETNA are top of the Scottish first by 5 points with a goal difference 27 superior to the team in second, Partick who have -4! If it stays like this, the Celtic hordes will be descending on tiny old
Gretna and its wedding hordes this very next year and my picture book “It Could Only Happen Here” will come to an astonishing froth at just the right time.
If you were to visit Dubai, as I did this week, you would be surprised to see rain, although it did. Back in England’s Lake District it resumed raining as it had before I left. The lakes and rivers are brimful. It’s
rained for about a month. If one was to visit Brooks Mileson’s back garden animal sanctuary, it would look as if he was building a Noah’s Ark – all manner of animals two by two.
And one offs. Animals abused and abandoned by other people.
If I played for Gretna (the club he owns) I would fix this vision in mind and bang in the goals (from midfield) both in his honour and for every animal ever abused by stupid people who think themselves master.
Every time I go to London something happens. Today a tornado has stopped me in my tracks.
I want Gordon Ramsay to give up this silly cooking thing. Last week he took on a bunch of scousers, humilated them, insulted them, broke their spirit, installed his own spirit and turned around their failing debt-ridden business into a going-concern. He should become manager of Brentford.
Well, since you are asking…
More shooting stars like the two amazing ones I saw last night…
More outdoor rope lights to go around the garden…
Football in the garden in the snow at midnight with friends old and new…
A radio with good reception to listen to BBC Radio Cumbria…
Time to sit on Blaze Fell and do nothing but wonder…
No delays on the roads and rail…
A ghostly experience to brag about…
A victory at the pub quiz…
2 wins for Watford FC…
The Blue Living Planet Earth with David Attenborough on DVD…
World leadership as per Al Gore…
A pile of logs for the fire…
A crate of mulled wine…
Continued good health to Ecoutez-Moi the cat…
A happy ending…
England versus the mass murderer… we won’t allow him to murder any more of our daughters in Suffolk.
Man versus woman… we know even before any evidence is gathered that the murderer is a ‘he’.
Monty Panesar versus prejudice and versus the Australians… The British public so want to embrace Muslims and Asians as part of our society, bearded or veiled or otherwise, especially in the face of the Bush offensive and Monty – a Sikh – shows us a way. Spin-bowling for the lads-eleven in cricketers white called England, Panesar is emerging a peculiar unlikely hero with his good-looks and passionate team-play. Go get those Ozzies Monty!
South Africa versus gun-crime… shootings almost eliminated to zero, but now the criminals are reaching for their knives and spears instead.
Christmas versus Christmas premature… NOW it is time for Christmas and all the songs.
Dolphins freely swimming the warming seas versus the fishing harvesters… ‘Marra’ the beloved almost pet dolphin that has taken to the Solway coast off Cumbria was turned up on the shore cut in three by the drag nets of the fishing boats, truly tragic an end.
Cumbria and The Lake District versus the weather… the hottest year EVER has ended with a downpour lasting most of 44 days. Lakes look like ow they used to after the great Ice age melt. Several Noah’s Arks are being readied. Cootie The Cat believes he is not past it and is looking for a partner to partner him on the great journey – could be young cutie Susie the cat from next door.
In the darkness of this mid-Winter I knocked myself out yesterday seeing strange bands of light and stars as I did so. Expect some interesting photo’s soon.
Sally will read this and weep. I know she will. She is leaving me after 2 traumatic years.
She is too good to lose entirely so she will work 2 days for me, one from a distance, she has to, she simply has to. But Sally the personal assistant who can not be bettered, will have to be in due course. I have to replace her for the rest of the week… eventually.
For 2 years she has battled fires, arrived at 8am if not early every day and never once been sick. And all the time she had a house and partner 100 miles away.
Thank you Sally.
It’s not quite all over mind you. You still have to think of a title for this Blog entry – as per usual.
I went to the sea whilst delivering football pictures to people in Liverpool, and stood and watched Antony Gormley’s amazing sculpture Another Place (the figures in the sea)...wondering what he could do elsewhere.
I saw the Crack at Bellevue open then close, for the last time. Doncaster Rovers played out time at the rusting red ground beating the league leaders Forest.
I have a daughter Ava. And possibly like someone returning from war I have got to meet her after some time and sleepless nights for her mother. Ava was borne on the 11th of the 11th 2005. We walked her to the beach for the first time then sat in a seaside cafe, almost xmas-time. And she is truly beautiful.
I believed I was he… never going to bed.
I ended the year in the only way possible – with the family – with the animals, all together at Brooks Mileson’s animal sanctuary. Brooks himself was looking good, back to health, hissing at Oscar the ostrich and fairly chucking carrots to the stand-off stags.
Being from the north-east Brooks was wearing little more than a t-shirt in the cold.
As well as the Shetland stampede, which would make any misery smile at the rollicking and frollicking, headbutting (they are pretty small) and charging about , as well as the parrots which heckled Hellos louder and louder as you walked away, as well as the funny monkey things and the pot-belly pigs et cetera et cetera et cetera (600 animals in all?) ... there was Misty, the white horse, returning to the land of the living despite the abuse she suffered at the hands of the clumsy, careless, hateful wankers that once housed her. She smiled for me with those eyes. Brooks is up at the crack of dawn to feed her.
