no title required.....

She keeps a distance, but she’s always there, watching, waiting, but most of all anticipating for the time when I return. She knows. We share a bond, and have done for over 16 years, she’s seen a wife and several loves both come and go and not once cast a judgement. Even tho at times I’ve taken her for granted, left for what must seem years at a time, yet she still greeted me with affection and love.

Her very name means “love and understanding”, something I first discovered in the lyrics and music of Stuart Adamson. In recent years she has become an educator to my daughter, teaching her the subtle qualities of care and responsibility, something that is sadly missing from a host of people around us who think they know what “love” means and is shown in their reactions to our situation.

At the moment she is fighting for her life, and the small group which I call “my family” are in limbo…… She is dying, there is no question of that, and with her passing I too will experience another part of “who I am” slip away.

I can only offer her comfort, she will go as she came, cradled in my arms.

My little girlie, my DC, my AddieCat.

Ssssshhhhhh, can you hear the voices?

Ok, I don't usually go for these online personality test things, they are only there to sell you a diagnosis of some major character flaw and before you know it you're a gibbering wreck, living under a bridge and £2000 lighter.

But, this one came from Kat, someone who seems to be sane, upstanding and without character flaws (ok, so believing you have a pair of haunted nutcrackers may not pass scrutineering by a professional on a leather chair, it's still harmless.... at the moment, so it doesn't count), so I thought I'd give it a go.....

These are my results..... if you know me, then feel free to comment. If you're a professional shrink and think you can help, then you can find me in the 3rd cardboard box under Staines bridge

Setback after setback has resulted in considerable stress and now you have got to the stage where you are continuously on your guard, not only to protect yourself from others but to protect yourself from yourself.

It would seem that many of your unfulfilled hopes and dreams have led to uncertainty and suspicion. You no longer wish to answer to others and you are insisting on freedom of thought.

You are seeking ways to protect yourself from further loss of prestige and against further setbacks. You have become very dependent and you doubt that matters could possibly get any better in the immediate future and this negative attitude is leading you to exaggerate your claims and to refuse reasonable compromise.

You are probably English, northern, fat and most likely bald as a coot.

The good news is that you are not paranoid, everyone really does think you're a tit.

If you want to have a go, then go here...... remember to paste your results back here. We can then compare and see who is most likely to knit themselves a suit from the skin of their dead victims.

1973 - burn baby burn (....cos it's all 100% Nylon)

I've got a serious case of "cant-be-arsed" going on. I have NO interest in anything I'm doing, and Christmas is nothing more than a reminder that everything I've previously done was wrong.

Anyhow, some months ago I came across an old UK home shopping catalogue from 1973... In '73 I was 6..... and more importantly Sunderland AFC won the FA cup..... which has nothing to do with this post, so I'll carry on.

This catalogue is fantastic, it's a snapshot of almost anything that you could purchase, and an awful lot of stuff that you shouldn't.

From highly flammable 100% Terilene/Nylon sleepwear to Fibreglass curtains and more Crimpolene than you can shake a steam iron at.

After the initial shock at the non-biodegradable materials used you start to notice the colours. WOW, I can only imagine before 1973 all clothes/carpets were either black & white or just brown. The words "busy" and "why" are constant companions on each turn of the page.

So here's a few I've "cut out"......

This poor unfortunate lass on the left here is typical of the clothes on offer.

I'm speechless.... I can only assume there's a dog's bed somewhere in London missing it's cover.

At some point, the manufacturer sat down with the designers and agreed this "garment" was marvelous and should be mass produced and sold for a premium...... just let that soak in for a while, no doubt these people have retired and are drawing huge pensions. Proof there is no justice in this word.

It's got flared sleeves for Christs sake! I think it could be a kind of contraception rather than clothing.

I'm welling up here, Oh the shame!

I guess by now you've seen the abomination which is the fella on the right. There's not one thing right about this. I've no idea where you'd wear this to, no, hold on..... apparently there are clubs that cater for this kind of perversion, I think I leave this one here.

I think we need to move onto some of the flooring that was available. You need to prepare yourself first, I would suggest taking a seat.... one with a belt would be good as I think you'll need to hang on as you may become nauseated and a little confused.

here we go....

and again.....

I feel for the cat on that last one, you can see its terrified! it darent move! I can understand buying one of these carpets if you're incontinent or need to cover up a crime scene, apart from that I'm baffled.

and to round off, here's a few that require no comment at all.

Stuffed and remembered

A video of all the stills I took while on tour with The Wonder Stuff.....

Music by Miles Hunt "These Things Remembered" Demo, used with kind permission

If you like what you've heard then why not buy the album

Ganin' yairm t'tek sum pictures liek

It was a Saturday, no Em to entertain and the weather not conducive to silly lean angles so I decided to drive 300 miles to where I grew up and take some pictures. So here are a few from the small town where I grew up.....

Easington Colliery, Co Durham, UK....

This site was originally occupied by the Easington Colliery Coal Mine, when the profits were too small for the black suited boys they closed the pit. Now all that stands there is this monument to over 100 years of coal mining. It is in fact the cage used to carry the men (and equipment) up and down the south shaft... Including my father, brother and countless other relatives and friends.

The North East Coast.... From Hartlepool to Seaton Carew.

The Cage - looking south east

Seaton Carew - Beachcomber

a Beach Txt'er

Sunset @ dawn

I see no ships