There is no doubt about it, I am so lucky to have my wonderful relationship with Suzy.
She places few demands.
She comes and goes, admittedly sometimes she’s gone a long time, but that keeps us both keen.
She has money, though I have no idea where from, she intimates her husband looks after her even though they haven’t been together for a few years now.
And she’s generous.
All I do in return is look after Freya, try to be there for them both when they need me, and generally just be a good friend.
We didn’t ride as much as we’d planned. That was my fault. I have hardly ever ridden up a real hill having bee cycling in and around Manchester over the past few years, but hardly anywhere else. And even though I’d borrowed one of her road bikes, I just couldn’t cope.
These hills are huge, they’d wear you out walking up them, and they twist and turn, and then you have to remember the cars too. What was even more surprising is how hard they are to ride down – you need nerves of steel to just let go and lean into the bends, taking the whole road when there’s nothing coming.
I now really want to do more hill riding, but I was useless at the weekend. After the morning Suzy suggested that we call it a day and I was delighted to say yes. We locked the bikes up at the hotel and walked along the river instead, and we both jumped in for a warm swim which was truly wonderful and must have given the teenage lads a thrill – there were a few of them out with their parents and they couldn’t believe there luck as two (I’d like to think, nubile and attractive) girls slipped their bras out under their tee shirts and jumper in the river in their pants.
Wonderful wonderful. Suzy I thank you again.Read More
I’ve loosely given this post the category of Travel – I don’t really consider a trip over to Huddersfield to be travel, but it certainly isn’t going to be about sex or fashion. Have you been to Huddersfield?
It’s a curious place and one that with a (very) careful tour you could convince someone that it’s rather attractive. Tonight we wandered along the canal side, with willows drooping their length branches into the water, where fishermen sat, rather optimistically, in the shade.
We ate a great curry – I just wish I had paid any attention at all to the name of the place, I’d write them a glowing Tripadvisor review. The service was good and the food excellent, the nan breads were as good as nanna’s and that’s saying a lot. I find that English Indians tend to coat everything in so much butter or ghee as if every Englishman wanted a fat little belly like an Indian, but nanna’s are always much more dry.
Actually saying about fat Brits, blimey there are some fat school kids in this town, I find that quite depressing. If they’re fat when they are only pre-teens what hope is there of ever being thing again?
We’re staying in a Travelodge, sharing a big bed, but no hanky panky. I’m with Charleene, she’s tall, gorgeous, and somehow always smells amazing, even at the end of the day. She’s black too and has oodles of mystique. But she’s not warm to my touch and she’s too valuable as a friend to risk anything. I’m properly tuned in these days and it avoids any embarrassing situations.
Charlene was visiting an old aunt of hers and wanted me to come along to take her out afterwards.
I’m always game!
Anyway, she’s just finished in the shower, my turn, then we’re off out to find some drinking.Read More
It was strange having a guy stay, let alone one who came encumbered with some other guy’s dog.
The dog (Bess, even though he’s a boy) and I became besser mates, I could get him to do all sorts, including sitting from a distance. This endeared me too him massively and I was disappointed when they both left this morning, even to see The Dude off, though Saturday night became a bit uncomfortable.
He was so sweet, and actually asked if he could kiss me. I had been expecting him to just try it on and that was so gentle of him that I almost said yes. But then I crushed the poor fellow by telling him that I am a lesbian and in love with Suzy (OK, slight exaggeration these, but almost true). I told him that I’m happy to be good friends, see each other, share the same duvet while sleeping, or watching TV on the floor, but it isn’t going to go any further.
On Saturday night he was crestfallen, but yesterday he seemed to just shrug it off and we had a top day walking along the canal into Manchester, then into the Northern Quarter and drinking super strong coffee in the covered bit outside of Northern Tea Power, talking everything from old rock music to the appalling state of British politics.
I had said that I couldn’t be arsed to vote and he gave me a royal telling off for that. He said it was like bending over with my pants down saying “Fuck me then”. He said it was giving in and letting them of anything they wanted. And he was so animated I took it to heart, and promised that I’d even vote in the European elections – best do that then.Read More
I’ve had a funny old Saturday so far, but I’m massively enjoying it.
My mate The Dude has come down from Newcastle for the weekend, but he has also brought his mate’s dog!
I quite like The Dude, and I quite like dogs, so this should be an ideal combination. He drove us out to Knutsford today so that we could walk through the lovely grounds of Tatton Park.
That was funny straight off because The Dude, yes I really do call him that, has no sense of style whatsoever. He would wear exactly the same thing every day given the choice, he looks a bit gothic/rock in a very 80s student kind of way. But Knutsford is one of the richest bits around Manchester and the whole town seems to be just estate agents, expensive restaurants and very very expensive kitchen shops.
The Dude noticed none of this!
He even walked past a showroom selling McLaren cars and didn’t pass comment. I’m a girl, I don’t care much about cars, and yet I still felt a shiver of excitement at being just a couple of metres away from a car that costs more than I’m likely to earn in my whole life!
The dog loved the park and it ran after its ball tirelessly for a couple of hours, including swimming for it in the lake, and even ignoring the ducks in favour of the ball. It left me thinking how much I’d like a dog and I started to ask The Dude about it, but that’s when I found out the dog is his mate’s, but that he has been looking after it for a few weeks now and has grown to like it, even though he hates having to pick up its poo.
We didn’t see these formal gardens, although we did see the house in the distance. But look at the photo and you can see the lake in the distance.
The Dude was well impressed with my love of Eminem, although I think he was hoping to get off with me so I had to put him straight – he’s a lovely guy, but he’s not what occupies my mind, or tingles my bits.Read More
Back in the digs. Not that it’s a bad thing. But I do miss my lovely mamma.
And it’s a good night to come back to the flat. We always eat together on a Sunday night, and tonight it’s my turn to cook.
After king on about the wonderful for that mamma has provided over the last few days, I feel that my contribution is rather feeble, but I also know that it will be loved by everyone.
I will cook a simple, yet hopefully delicious, chilli. Nobody bothers calling it chilli con carne these days (probably as often it is made without meat).
Mine is special. Nothing modest about that, it just is.
I go the English way and fry an only or three, a head of celery chopped roughly, chuck in a completely unEnglish bulb of garlic without even bothering to skin it. In a separate pan I’ll brown a mix of beef and pork mince (yes, I even eat pork, no shame!) with a huge amount of ground black and powdered white pepper, bring them together with a good dousing of wine, a beef stock cube (my only cheat) and lots of finely chopped chills.
It’s always hot as hell, but I make it early in the morning so that by the time we sit down to eat it the heat of the chills has deepened, and mellowed slightly. I’ll serve it with soured cream and grated crap cheese to help the initiated cope with the dish – and I am confident that there will be nothing left at the end of the evening.
This is work in progress – but this is the side dish that wouldn’t fit into the main pot. That is simmering in the oven at the moment.Read More
I was flattered and delighted, but also a little concerned, when a lovely friend I know only as The Dude, called me in a state of angst about his love life.
I don’t actually know The Dude that well, but I met him at a party in Gateshead some time ago and was kinda impressed when this scruffy lad with little idea about how to approach a girl, came up and introduced himself as The Dude.
He’s a funny fellow, but I like him. He calls now and then, and often asks advice on stuff I don’t even know much about. He once asked how to cook lamb. Another time he had a long discussion about fitting new doors to his parents’ home after theirs had been damaged by some kids running riot in the street. And last week he wanted to talk about Sandy, some girl he has had a mad crush on for ages, but who I don’t think he has ever properly spoken to.
I thought it would be fun to go somewhere I didn’t know and so I offered to go and see him. I got the coach up and he met me at the station. We spent the day and night wandering from dive bar to coffee shop to a couple of cooler bars that I pointed out but where he didn’t seem as comfortable.
The trouble is he fancies this girl sandy, but I think he also fancies me. He was cress fallen when i excitedly blurbed out Suzy’s arrangements to take me to London, and I felt guilty for a while, that was until he confessed and laughed, embarrassed, and admitted he was turned on at the thought of me going on a romantic liaison with another girl.
I sent him this little plaque afterwards, I ordered it from Baytree Interiors, they do all sorts of funny, and sometimes deeply meaningful wooden inspirational signs. It’s sweet and I hope he doesn’t get the wrong idea!Read More