Tuesday 21 January 2014

Under A Crooked Spire

A thus:


Well this is long overdue. 21st Jan and first blog of the year just isn't good enough. So what have I been up to you ask? Well getting confused by a floodlight, hopefully saving a fish, visiting a garden centre to look at cake, applying for jobs, touching the above church and exploring Chesterfield.

Applying for jobs is the crucial one there. 99% of job applications are done online so after a morning applying for jobs my brain is mush and I just end up staring at the laptop screen, dribbling slightly and trying to remember my words. Thought I'd make a concerted effort today though.

Still no luck on the job front which is becoming a worry 'cos I've booked a wedding here:


and a honeymoon here:


I'll stop showing off.

I've never really visited Chesterfield before. This is a lie. The Recreation Ground, Saltergate is the football ground I've visited most after Belle Vue and The Keepmoat and I've spent many a happy afternoon at the cricket ground in Queen's Park (the 2nd most beautiful cricket ground in the country) but I've never really visited the town before. Oh except The Pomegranate Theatre on a school trip to see Henry V part two. It may have been part one. It also may have been Henry IV. Ask your mum Bex, she might remember. Let's clarify this. I've never wandered round Chesterfield town centre before. I have now and there's some awesome pubs selling awesome real ale that made me drunk enough to want to touch the church. I've no idea why. Ask Ian. He's the one who came over to get drunk with me and touch the church.

Having seen Rovers play at Chesterfield's old ground I believe 9 times I've yet to visit their new ground though I've seen it loads now. Like most new grounds it looks functional but dull. It did confuse me one day though when I could only see 3 floodlights. On closer inspection it would seem that The Proact Stadium has done away with needing a steeplejack to change lightbulbs and just bend the whole pylon down. No doubt inspired by the spire.

And yes you did read the word's garden centre in that first paragraph. Hate the places. I'm sure it's not the case but I seem to remember every other Sunday as a child being dragged to a garden centre, normally the gone but not missed Pennells. The every other other Sundays were spent at camping shops. Again this is probably not true. My overall recollection of garden centres is liking the smell and the stone hedgehogs but on the whole being ridiculously bored. Even the time my mum bought me a cactus I was still bored. The cactus was named Spike and used to hang things on. This time though the lovely Tracey and I had gone to look at cake, specifically wedding cake. An odd thing for a garden centre to sell but I guess it cant all be fountains and plastic gnomes these days. They also sell fish. Whilst there out of the corner of my eye I saw a fish, don't ask me what make of fish, plummet from the top of it's tank to the bottom were it lay on it's side appearing to gasp for breath, which I know can't have been the case. It did seem to have a 'I can't do this any more' look on it's face. I reported it to some youth with a net who rescued it and said he'd quarantine it. For quarantine read flush.

That's about it really. I need to follow up the interest I've had from Elastic Radio, the local community station. I'm sure they'd welcome some Katy Perry free shows!

Does anyone else wish they had opposable thumbs on their insteps?

Laters

SS