Tag Archives: Personal

A Year of Firsts In 2016

I managed to achieve a few personal “firsts” in 2016 which I feel should be acknowledged, and it all began in January at the Burns Night Supper, where I recited two poems in public for the first time ever. I felt a nice sense of accomplishment after that. You can hear my efforts from both 2016 and 2017 Suppers here:

https://soundcloud.com/angies_allsorts/burns-2016-robert-burns-mcgonagall-to-a-mouse

https://soundcloud.com/angies_allsorts/burns-2017-address-to-a-veggis-haggis-to-a-daisy-to-a-louse

On a regular basis I attend exhibitions but I NEVER thought I would witness the technology that effectively began the space race. Seeing the “Cosmonauts Birth of a Space Age” in the Science Museum London was incredible. Viewing Sputnik, hearing the signal she sent and seeing all that pioneering technology and reading about the history was amazing. That was definitely a once in a lifetime experience. I also managed to see the 175 Faces of Chemistry exhibition at the Royal Society of Chemistry. Here I had the surreal experience of knowing about six of the faces through Rob’s work as a chemistry lecturer. But my “first” was considering one of them a good friend who is still only in the “first phase” of her career. Dr Suze Kundu has achieved so much for her tender years and I’m sure will continue to fly high. I felt quietly proud of knowing this clever young woman who I first met as a bubbly PhD student at the Aberdeen Science Festival 2012.

During the spring I saw The Three Degrees perform at the Crewe Lyceum Theatre for the first and probably only time. Although I’ve attended many concerts and theatre shows, I never cease to marvel at seeing acts I’ve known about since childhood. I still pinch myself at the wonder of it. The Three Degrees were as beautifully attired as I remembered, with vocals as wonderful as ever, and a real class act. At the same theatre in the autumn I witnessed a Q&A with Dame Joan Collins a style of show I hadn’t seen before, although I had seen Joan do pantomime a few years ago.

Toward the end of the football season 2015/16 I decided to get into “pre-season” training immediately. I had thought of doing it before but dismissed the idea fairly quickly. But doing football commentary from the top end of the main stand at Gresty Road needs stamina, and a three month layoff is no good for the body at the start of a new campaign. So I began a proper exercise routine the day after Crewe Alexandra’s last home match. With the aid of a few home exercise DVDs’ I devised my own workout sequence and kept at it, even when I discovered muscles I didn’t know existed and found general movement (especially sitting down/getting up) difficult. Gradually the shock left my system and come August I bounded up the main stand stairs like Rocky in the film. It was with great restraint I didn’t throw my arms aloft and start dancing around. But I did emulate Rocky inside my head which felt good.

The big sensation of the summer was the Pokémon Go craze and Rob jumped on board within a few short weeks. It got him into exercise as well because walks were suddenly on the agenda and I joined the Pokémon bandwagon the third week of August. I had never done any kind of real computer gaming before, and my coordination is such I don’t use the phone much whilst walking, as something is bound to come a cropper. So I learned a new game and by doing so vastly improved my general coordination. And a bonus is the wonderful sunrises, sunsets and morning/evening birdsong I’ve enjoyed witnessing so much. For a while the walks replaced the workout sessions, although I’m trying to mix the two together now, because each has its place. The added bonus to all this activity is I’ve managed to shave a number of inches and pounds off my frame as well.

Captured on Camera Keele Squirrel
                                Captured on Camera Keele Squirrel

I finally got around to visiting the observatory for the first time, to witness the transit of Mercury in May, a few months short of my 25th Keele arrival anniversary. The observatory was always somewhere I was going to visit but never got round to it. Another Keele first was finally getting a really good photo of the areas main resident, the grey squirrel. Armed with a new digital camera with a huge optical zoom, I at last captured decent images of these distinct Keelites. I’m also working on some bird photography too.

Little Robin Redbreast
               Little Robin Redbreast

Last year was particularly good for moon watching and I can hardly believe I’ve got images which make me think of films from the lunar landings. It was the first time I had ever considered turning my camera toward the moon, but I’m so glad I got the idea.

Super Moon
                                                           Super Moon

In November I had the pleasure of being a volunteer at the local Fenton Manor Sports Complex. My first time ever at a table tennis event, and it was an international European qualifier match England v Greece. I know absolutely nothing about the game but learned quickly as I undertook my duties as a “live scorer”. England was victorious after a nail biting tie-break set and as we wrapped up the evening, I discovered that 600 had been in the venue and 2.2 million had watched on Bible Sport!! Next day I Googled the site and came across footage of the match (with me in it from a distance), and managed to glean some screen shots for the photo album, another first from the experience.

I’ve always felt privileged to have seen Torvill & Dean perform their Olympic winning routine Bolero after they turned professional and went on tour. I didn’t think I would see another Olympic performance again. But at the London International Horse Show at Olympia I witnessed Charlotte Dujardin & Valegro perform their Gold medal routine from London 2012. I didn’t see it at the time nor afterwards. What an honour to see this pair perform together for one last time to say goodbye. My first ever equine Olympic experience was simply sublime to witness and a glorious way to end my year of “firsts”.

Valegro's Last Performance
                                 Valegro’s Last Performance
Goodbye Charlotte Dujardin & Valegro
                        Goodbye Charlotte Dujardin & Valegro

Burns, Sweeties & the Broons: A Guid Scots Year

Burns Night (January 25th) celebrates the birth of Scots poet Robert Burns and is generally marked by a traditional Haggis supper. As I look back to last year’s event I realise that in 2016 I began to truly embrace my “Scots heritage” rather than run away from it.

 I was attending a Burns Supper for only the third time ever in my life. With less than 48 hours notice I was asked/told if I could do the Selkirk Grace, a Burn’s poem of my own choice, and recite the William Topaz McGonagall ode “Robert Burns”. I fell back on my old training from Cleland Primary where we all studied Burns for a local competition, although I never had the nerve to audition anything from the stage for the scrutiny of the school. So “To A Mouse” sprang to mind as my obvious poem choice, as I can still remember great swathes of the verse from school. The McGonagall piece was not an easy read and I spent most of my free day trying to get the feel of the words and find its rhythm. I had never heard of this chap before and a Google search told me he was considered one of the worst poets of the English language. Poor guy, and although I could see where that unfavourable label came from, I love an underdog and someone who keeps trying no matter what. So I persevered and came to an understanding with the verse.  On the night I discovered I was on the top table “mistress of ceremonies” I guess, and had a formidable audience of learned folk with Burns anthologies in hand, only too ready to point out mistakes. No pressure then I thought as I stood to attention, knees quaking, to start the ball rolling so to speak. But as the evening wore on and my poetry section approached, I found myself nervously looking forward to doing my turn. Somewhere deep down that wee Scots school lassie was dying to perform the Burns words that came so easily to her, because many of them I spoke at home growing up anyway, and I had a natural affinity for them. I’m pleased to say I carried off the recitals without much trouble, then sat back to listen to the only other Scot in the room do “Tam o’ Shanter”. I smiled knowingly to myself as I recalled teaching Robert how to read this narrative over twenty years ago, and how I’d shook my head in appalled disbelief when he had admitted to never having “done Burns” at his Paisley schools.

My first ever Burns Supper in 2010 was held on my 40th birthday. It was with great reluctance I was persuaded to attend, and I only agreed on condition I had a strictly vegetarian meal and hired a Highland outfit. Much hilarity ensued when I was measured up for the outfit and had the fitting, but I felt terrific wearing all the regalia as I strutted into Keele Hall that night. It definitely felt like I was wearing an outfit ready for battle, I could have taken on the world. Since then I’ve worn a dress at the event, but last year I was asked about half a dozen times “where’s your kilt?” There was a palpable sigh in the air when I replied with my own question “why do you think I should wear one?” It got me thinking, and I toyed with the idea for the rest of the year. Eventually I came up with my own “alternative Highland outfit” idea which will be unveiled this week. This coincided with the discovery a traditional sweetie shop Mrs Mitchell’s and a kilt section in the TJ Hughes store nearby.

In the spring my thoughts strayed away from Easter eggs to sweets I remembered having as a kid, especially the “non PC ones” like sweetie tobacco and proper pipes with sherbet. I distinctly recall getting both of these in Martin Brennan’s Cleland paper shop when my Mammy got her own cigarette/tobacco supplies. Finding I had a decent enough wifi connection, I thought I’d tap a few choice words into a Google search and see what came up. To my utter surprise and delight I discovered many of the sweets I thought had long ceased production were still being made, many came under the handle of “traditional Scottish sweets” and could be found in select shops in big towns and cities. This is when I discovered Mrs Mitchell’s in Glasgow existed and on entering that wonderful sweetie emporium I was a wee girl again. The sights and smells took me right back to the Martin’s and also Bessie Allen’s corner shop, with the big sweet bottles and waxed boxes filled with delights such as odd fellows, floral gums, Berwick cockles and Chelsea whoppers. Willie Wonka could keep his factory this was my kind of place. After my first visit I came out with a canvas bag that was so heavy it felt like a kettle bell weight.

My appetite for Scottish sweeties satisfied I turned my attention to that burning thought of kilts and Burns suppers. Noticing a TJ Hughes store a few doors down from the sweet shop, I strolled inside for a look around, and happily noticed a nicely sized, not too intimidating, decently priced kilt section near the back of the store. I was travelling light for my Glasgow visit and had my sweeties to haul back home, but I promised myself I’d return for a proper look in November. I always have a pilgrimage that month to Glasgow to see Sydney Devine at the Pavilion Theatre. So back I went and spotted THE MOST GORGEOUS jacket, the only one of its kind in the store and in my size with a matching waistcoat. Trying them on, I again experienced that distinct empowered feeling, and the clothes sold themselves. Talking to Alex the concession manager we agreed a kilt purchase wasn’t really necessary, some black trousers would do just as well. With what is in my wardrobe already I can create about three different variations, and with the odd extra purchase that can stretch to six plus outfits. So I’m well sorted for January 25th now, and I just need to opt for the final permutation each year.

As well as seeing Sydney Devine in November, I went to see an 80th anniversary celebration of The Broons on stage. Despite talking like them growing up, my ears took about five minutes to acclimatise to the distinct burr of Scotland’s famous family. I’m just not used to hearing that style of talk from a stage, and my “Anglicised “ ears had to get back up to speed with the rapid fire delivery, the very specific style of humour, and general Scots patter. It was a terrific show and I felt very much at home. By the end of the evening I had reverted back to the Maw Broon dialogue of my childhood, and I didn’t feel in the slightest awkward or embarrassed about it, quite the opposite really. It was as I gazed at the packed bag containing my Broons program, some sweeties and my Sheriffmuir jacket and waistcoat, I realised that those Scots essentials filled me with an enormous pride. You can take the lassie out of Cleland/Scotland……