content top

Bleaklow & The Rambling man

Bleaklow & The Rambling man
So the Rambling man returns,climbing his way back on to the interweb and this here Bio-Blog. The Funky Nomad is revealed as no other than…… Now hang on there a tic, maybe just because I have told the Old Man and his friends where to find my Ramblings is no reason to actually come clean. Well I hope not because I like being one of the many alternative me’s out there, where would we all be if along our journey we were not allowed to re-invent ourselves now and again. I had thought to mysteriously reinvent myself as the West Riding Tyke but I have already offered that to a friend should he ever become a radio presenter. Some of you may have spotted the overuse of the word Rambling, not just in this post but posts leading up to this and if you read other posts you may discover words foreshadowing posts to come and why not as it usually takes a year or so for all the pieces to come together. This one in particular has had a longer birth than most it has been probably up to 80 years in its making. Allow me to take you on a journey that ended up here at the bridge with ‘No Berries on the Tree’.     So without further ado I will turn you over to the antics of these four merry men, now I am not claiming that they have as much fun as Compo,Clegg, Foggy and Wally but I have my suspicions. From left to right we have Peter, Malcolm, My Old man and Robin. Like me but in an old school way they mark there passing through the world with a bound journal each year edited and prepared by Malcolm. So here is my Old Mans explanation of what they are doing at the foot of Jacobs ladder.   ‘NO BERRIES’      On August the 20th the gang of four the two Peters, Malcolm and Robin set off from Barber Booth to walk to Harvey’s Rowan Tree planted by his friends in 1995. Although the tree looked very healthy, mysteriously NO RED BERRIES! We couldn’t understand this as similar trees lower down the track were laden with fruit,we decided it was a case for Alan Titchmarsh. ( And so it should be, I...

Footprint

Footprint
Footprints left in the snow or on the beach or on your soul, record of your journey through the times of your life and the times of those who carried you or you carried in return. They are there even if you don’t want to believe me. Not just talking about your electronic footprint your transactions or social media postings but your physical and metaphysical footprints. Yes I know this all smacks of a theme and yes I have read ‘And Did Those Feet’ but what did you expect a retrospective to be, and knowing the importance of footprints to my family history you should not be surprised. (If you have no idea what I am talking about  stick around as I ramble my way through some what ifs and probably stride through some so whats.) I also have a couple of Ideas why Generation X is a little bit angry and pissed off and probably a little inwardly focused. You can forget all about Gen Y,  being selfish I would like to consider Generation Z (That’s my kids). They are where it’s at. Far more collaborative and civic minded than any generation since the 2 wars, don’t believe all you are told they will lead us into the great future they will be hero’s the like of which we have not seen for generations, I can see it in my children. They have been promised nothing and will achieve everything they appear not to carry our burdens and will make lighter footprints than I. They will lead each other into future and shame our leaders and they will do it because it is right and not for self aggrandizement and power and Ego. How can I be so sure I hear you ask? I have faith an old fashioned belief that does not need proving to me, because its time and because I would dearly like it to be. However lets get on with it, the Footprint I am talking about is Footprint Tools and possibly Footprint Wrenches  in particular, an all purpose wrench, being used extensively in plumbing and general pipe work applications. The world famous Footprint wrench was invented by Footprint’s founder Thomas R Ellin in 1875 and since then more than 15 million have been sold across the world.       And what does...

The Kitchen Sink

The Kitchen Sink
What the heck, 2 posts in one week! whats going on? Well its been a year since the Blog re-launched I have a steady seven Subscribers ( Its that box on the right saying subscribe) and all is well. Major drive to increase my fan base having no success I have told three more people (look at me go). So its time to throw more resources at it, everything including the Kitchen Sink. As you can see I even employed time travel in order to spice up my past and make myself more interesting, only time will tell if this will work. The penguins have devised a very clever marketing strategy and are offering a riseanddeardemise.ca mug to the 25th subscriber, or more accurately raffling a mug when we get to 25 subscribers. (May be an Antique by then.)     I have made my photo content more available and have signed up for a second Flickr account under the fantastic moniker (no not Monica) Funky Nomad, not to be confused with FunkyNomad that’s the me that builds 40k Space Marines. so what have I put on Flickr? Well so far Charlie Don’t Surf, Kings Croft common room (That’s where I went to school 6th form) and First 35mm, the first roll of 35mm film I took; in which the usual suspects appear. The Hare and Hounds, The Devonshire Arms and The Crown  (Pubs in case you were wondering).  Going forward you can just click on the photo to go straight to it ( If its in an Album in my Photostream, some stuff won’t be) or use the funky new menu button  Flickr Photostreamits at the top of the page.     So what else have I done to entice you funky followers? You can see at the top of the Home page a shiny new Logo, and we have a wordle or what ever it is in the side bar, this was made for my by #1 Daughter for Fathers Day 2 years ago and is as far as she is concerned the essence of who I am to her. I am so impressed with myself through her eyes I have been trying to live up to it ever since. By sporty she means Mountain Walking , Biking, Canoeing  and general summer outdoor stuff. Don’t ask me to kick a football the end results will be...

Big Surprise

Big Surprise
If you go down in the woods today you are sure of a big surprise! I was, this is TED my teddy bear he has had the same number of birthdays as me and has been living a peaceful retirement at home on the spare bed at my Mum and Dads house. Never being foolish enough to stray and join me on my adventures. It’s a big scarey world out there for teddy bears and no picnic I can tell you. How did I get to own such a fantastic yellow teddy? Well I picked him out, chose him personally and looking back on it now set the tone for everything that would unfold as time went on. Some time in late 1964 or possibly early 1965 I was given the task of picking a teddy, not in a toy store oh no, a home interview. Very serious business this teddy bear selecting lark, Grandpa had brought a hand full of bears of different sizes and temperaments over to the house and they were all sitting politely on the couch awaiting interview, I was let in the room and promptly picked the biggest bright yellow teddy with velvet red feet who at the time was as tall as I was. (Knowing me now I can hear you say not totally unexpected) but my initial choice left some concerns with the the family members in residence. I was lead back out into the hallway and the teddies were musical chaired and I was let in again. Now I might look a bit daft and my reasoning has been proven to be flawed at times but I stand by everything 110%. Even at 1 year old I could tell there was a teddy missing! You guessed it no sign of the big yellow bear, now not easily being defeated and having vast mental powers (or possibly just vastly mental) I used my Peanut and Curly Fu powers of deduction, I had not seen him leave so he must be here somewhere, there sticking out from under the curtain a suspicious yellow leg with red paws aha problem solved and he was mine and the rest is history. So I hear you ask if TED is supposed to be in retirement at my Mum and Dads house how come he is sitting...

Charlie Don’t Surf, West Street.

Charlie Don’t Surf, West Street.
Well Charlie Don’t actually surf on West Street but were playing Live at the West Street in Sheffield. On my recent trip home to the good old Steel City I get the opportunity to use my camera for more than taking pictures of beers. Its been a while since I photographed Live Bands not since my student days. To get the opportunity to see my good buddy Mark (who has had the pleasure of knowing me since before infant school ) and Charlie Don’t Surf in action was something I was looking forward to, It seemed only reasonable to offer my services to take some photos. Having been a Professional Photographer for 12 years+ it seemed like the perfect idea. And to be totally honest as ideas go one of my better ones, however this now requires me to actually put my money where my mouth is. How is this going to turn out? I had been hearing rumors of West Street its changed they say, we better warn you, you might be shocked. Well this was certainly a turn up for the books, I had spent many a year ploughing up and down West Street crawling from pub to pub. I moved in just off West Street ate at the Bombay 3 times a week ( Still don’t know what was in their curry) worked at the Job Center it was everything I knew. How crazy could it be? I remember Pajama Jumps  and other very dubious happenings. I also remember early mornings walking down to the bakery and getting fresh Parkin in November, buying cheap Bavarian larger at the corner store, lunchtimes drinking in the “Frog and Parrot” just because. On a hot summer night just returned from Europe a case of Alsace white in my hands, being collected from the station by the usual suspects. That night it was hot,we went to see “Haze” upstairs at the Hallamshire, oh what glorious days. What ever happened to Gabadon?( Don’t trust my spelling) I have photos of it all, hang around a bit follow my blog, I am not as big an ass as you think. Well probably not. Turns out they were warning me about the girls! Girls on West Street, I knew about meeting girls on West Street, well the ones hanging around the Hoover shop...

css.php