Tag Archives: Leeds

Hedge Hopping

Sometimes in the evenings when we’re knackered, I like to introduce some horrid thought. Like, hey, fancy popping into town? Wanna go catch last orders? Go for a walk? It’s all for the exquisiteness of opposites. That none of these … Continue reading

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Pie Season – Your Questions Answered

You know, a lot of people ask me – I mean, enough that I would remark on it – well, they ask… What are the start and end dates for Pie Season 2017/18? Thank you. This season began on Sunday … Continue reading

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Chicago Notes, 3. Records

On North Milwaukee looking for a breakfast without a mile-long queue (the french toast is that good – really?) we stumble upon Reckless Records. We give it a quick reccy, get the layout, and then slip into Filter Cafe next door. … Continue reading

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Posts from the Var Side – Leeds Legs

Weekend before last in the little town here, I saw a lovely pair of jeans. Coppery, brown, all the shades of bread; well-riveted and with luxurious price tag, even in the ‘Soldes’. Yesterday I set out to buy them; the … Continue reading

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In a middle weekend of last month’s poem-a-day jobbie, came a challenge that at first made me mad. Enough to want to bail, really. A craziness of composing with the use of just two vowels. At breakfast I asked B., … Continue reading

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Self-ish About The Fall

You probably think this song is about you. Sadly but also funnily about The Fall is that I’ve often felt, and still do, that he’s singing about idiot-joy people like me – the traits of me. The will-be member of the … Continue reading

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Pale green glass is dreaded confetti on every kerbside, and I park up, anyway, near the Travelodge, after first seeing them out at the Medical Centre. Braced, all balance, as if walking into the sea, my parents’ sudden bursts of … Continue reading

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Watching Johnny Marr

Well, I went to see Johnny Marr in Leeds on Wednesday night. He was playing the O2 Academy, which used to be the Town & Country just across from Jacob Kramer where I did my Fine Art Foundation sometime shortly … Continue reading

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He was Jimmy to his Oppos

My father’s memory is fading. I find two old books that are new to me, on the shelves of my parents’ front room. One, a tattered Bible, claret cover, and is inside inscribed: 3011, Private S. Mitchell of West Yorkshire [Regiment]. from Mrs … Continue reading

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Back to the Old House, Slightly

Last Thursday night on the way home from Leeds I took a detour of sorts that cut out a first stretch of the M1 and took me back up and around by the first house I owned. Miners’ houses, two-up-two-downs, … Continue reading

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