Go Team Tootill - AND WE DID

Saturday morning, 10.30am, Tatton Park.

1600 runners (or or 1590 runners and 10 members of Team Tootill) set off round the course. We even had a team logo, thanks to our mate Pete in Graphic Support Workshop. Check it out here

And I don't know how many finished, but WE DID!










Fastest Team Tootill-pootler was Steve at 52mins 30s.

I got round in 1 hour 25, according to the DJ. So did Lisa Frowny Baby, but she did wait for me so could've crossed about 5 minutes earlier. Jolan paid the price for getting stuck in jogging traffic and finished just behind.

Our Janey McN was the last over the line, so at the goading of the DJ we legged it back and crossed the line with her. Have a sneaky peek at the Running Pictures website Our bib numbers were in the 801-900 group. Be warned this page takes forwever to download.

And we've earned a shitload of cash for Cancer Research UK, thanks to our very supportive and generous mates :)

Well, they asked...

did Walkers Crisps, for new flavour ideas.

At Hannah's 30th on Saturday, Julan took a black pen and rose to the challenge. 40-odd ideas later, one caught our eye - Semen and Strawberry.

PJK: "Don't think they'll catch on."
DS: "Well, strawberries are popular."
??: "To some people, that is the real taste of summer..."

And a prize to anyone who can guess which member of the MNG made that remark :)

*Clue 1 - not PJK or me. I would have owned up to it!
*Clue 2 - not Hannah. See above.

Julie

This is posted with much love and affection for Julie.

She was my neighbour for 21 years. She was the cool kid next door, always in and out of our house. My parents loved her to bits and called her the 'little star'. In a reciprocal arrangement, her Mum was my 'auntie Babs' and much better value than the blood aunties.

Later she became the more clued-up big sister. My own sister is 14 years older than me, and read Cosmopolitan, so I 'borrowed' it from age 7. Julie, only 5 years older and not as unapproachable as big sis, explained the bits that 'Jackie' magazine wouldn't tackle!

In another life her ability to create a party out of nothing, and get it talked about for weeks would have earned her megabucks. And I learned a lot about how a pithy one-liner can start or end a fight, from Julie. She was fundamentally a kind, funny person who did light up a room. Few people can really do that.

After we moved my mum would go on regular jaunts to the old neighbourhood and still saw Julie quite often. She only remarked a fortnight ago that it was strange that Julie had been out when she called.

She died of aggressive lung cancer on Tuesday 17 June, after 5 weeks of negative tests for pneumonia at a nearby hospital. Paul hadn't told us she was ill; it was supposed to be routine checks for pneumonia and pleurisy, he saw no reason to alarm an old lady for nothing. Julie would be home soon. It ended in a frantic attempt at chemotherapy at Wythenshawe Neil Cliffe Centre.

She was 49, planning a big 50th do, and looking forward to her 16 year-old son starting college in September.

In her lifetime she managed to own a damn fine collection of Pesky Critters, though it would be unfair to count partner Paul and sons Lee and Matthew amongst them. Let's have a bit of respect for the living.

Insert your own 'sudden death platitude' here. All I can think is 'oh bugger, it won't be the same without Jules'.

New additions to the Pesky Critters

For the past month, I've been walking the dogs before work, in a sad attempt to get fit.

It has failed. Largely due to the inordinate amount of time we owners spend gabbing while the dogs run around chasing things.

So here are the new members (photos not available)

Michael and Marley (Jack Russell x mutt)
Gail and Jack (another Jack Russell)
Julie and Sandy (big mutt, soppy)
Cathy and Tyler (big Staffie)
Joe and Blake (black laborador)
Two owners I keep forgetting, but the dogs are Casper (golden laborador) and Sally (King Charles Spaniel)
Craig and Simba, Lucy (big brown mutts, rocket propelled)

So the dogs now have a social life and are happy pack creatures. The cats hate it. Especially since the morning that Michael came round to collect us. He's eleven, autistic, we were missing and that's not in his scheme of things so he came to get us. Marley, 6 months old and a bouncy puppy, invited himself in and made himself right at home. Gail and Jack waited outside, as Jack had weighed up the cats and decided that the gatepost was about as far as he could safely go.

It might not be healthy, but it is fun. A mismatched group with a common interest, talking a lot of enjoyable rubbish and having a good time.

Like the MNG in the pub, but with chewy sticks.

Not so quiet on the Western front...

Life round ours has been rather dull recently. Of course things have been happening, but in the main they have been on the boring-dull-downright sad end of the spectrum, and not up for discussion.

So we were nearly caught out when a bunch of really nice things happened in a short space of time;

i) our friend Nam has finally been granted a visa from Thailand, after years of trying. So she will be living just up the road, with her lovely boyfriend Glyn. He's a mad Man City fan, so I've suggested she tries to get a job at the City of Manchester stadium as soon as her NI number is sorted. So we're all round at theirs for a Thai banquet as soon as she recovers from the jetlag when she arrives in May.

ii) James has finally found a full-time job (rather than all the temp stuff he's been doing for the last few months). About time he decided what he wanted to be when he grew up, hah!

iii) the house sale to the buyer-from-hell has finally been completed. The Big Sis will be spending the proceeds on Valium and anger management courses. The buyer has severely pissed-off the BS - you shouldn't do that to someone whose house you are buying, obviously they know where you will be living... :)

And saving the best to last... The beautiful Faye is now engaged to the lovely Kev, and my sister-in-law is hoping that she just might get to be a grandma in due course. Wedding next year on a beach somewhere, underwater if Faye can persuade Kev to study for the PADI certificate!

Added to all that, the lovely Lucy at Life Begins was christened on Sunday, and I got a last-minute invite to "I'm Sorry I Haven't A Clue" at the Lowry! Both well worth the speeding tickets that I must have collected, either on the way to church (honestly, officer) or on the way to the altar of St Humph of the Lyttleton.

Media Madness

Yes, those sterling souls at the Media Centre have been at it again.

Anna is finally escaping to early retirement, and a leaving film is required.

This one's got allegations, accusations and some suspect headgear (worn by yours truly). Am not aware of any contribution from Lal in Texas, but if she's doing the Rodeo circuit then I expect she's a bit busy.

Red carpet day is Wed 19th December 2007. No papparazzi please.

Where's Lisa?

I've not seen my friend Lisa for a wee while so I moseyed over to her blog at Frowny Baby.

It wasn't there.

I was searching for something that wasn't there. It said so, nice and clear next to the Frowny Baby.

I knew she hadn't really disappeared into a nasty dark cyberspace pit. I suspected it probably has a LOT to do with Damon messing around on it. But I suddenly felt really bereft.

One quick check on Facebook and an e-mail later, and she is unwell but confirmed as still alive!

Amazing how soon we get dependent on these things.

Some of my best friends are grown-ups...

...but I don't think blogs should be used to name and shame. So I won't name the person.

Digital tellybox now has a channel called 'Dave' on the grounds that most people know someone called Dave. I can't be arsed to check their facts here, but I shall use 'Dave'.

'Dave' did a degree in a subject he liked, and was lucky enough to get a job in his chosen field. He moved through a few jobs, liked where he ended up, and even got some freelancing. Then over the years, realised that the office politics were corroding his soul, and the freelancing could just keep him above poverty level. His chances of getting the best job in the office are a few years off, and he is fairly certain that his soul and sanity can't last that long.

So he is going freelance. So far so good.

Except last night his loving friends decided to help write the resignation letter.

How many ways can you tell an employer to stick their job? We came up with loads until 'Dave' pointed out they might have future work for him.

'In the words of the Great Freddie Mercury, "I want to break free" ' as an opening line was deemed inappropriate.

At the end of the night we waved him off with a hail of "Good Luck, Dave." People outside having a fag break joined in, as it was obvious he needed all the luck he could get.

So under the influence of real ale and Queen, he went off to write his letter. Hope I get to see a draft version.

Enough to make you climb the walls...

After Scott's valiant attempt at scaling the chimney breast in the Lass O'Gowrie, we were due another attempt. Maybe this time along the side of the shelves, via the tricky bric-a-brac.

And try saying that after a dab of Rioja.

However Scott managed to drop a box of books on his foot, Lisa's bank balance is recovering from a nice trip away, and Damon was otherwise engaged. I think he was planning to get hair extensions, just in case the 'longest hair contest' started again. The others just replied with a sensible "Not this week, thanks."

I've realised that this was probably all for the good, as our best pubs are all in the area covered by the campus for MMU and University of Manchester. And the Halls of Residence...all the little freshers will be out, the corridor pub-crawl in full swarm. Even if we scare them out of our best venues, they will be blocking the pavements and the cashpoints. And can't wait for the student vs local chav puking contests :(

Yes, I'm ageist. Don't care.

I'm heading out of town, hopefully to have a nice meal in a student-free suburb. It's a combined birthday do for friend Steve, and someone I've never met (or don't remember). I accepted without finding out who else was going, so it could be the best laugh or a complete nightmare. Hopefully the former.

I'm sure someone will end up climbing the walls by the end of the night. Tequila shots all round, chaps?