Tag Archives: Preston

Lost on Moor Park

I’ve walked round Moor Park a number of times since William was born, probably more so than during the preceding 46 years!

It’s a lovely park which skirts a very beautiful avenue, once home to Preston’s super rich, I imagine, yet now home to consultants’ surgeries, Moor Park High School and Preston College’s annexe, The Park School.

I spotted this purple hand….

Purple Hand!

Purple Hand!

The park has always been a happy place for me although when I once had a personal trainer and was learning how to run, it became a source of discomfort….no loos! There are two public conveniences but both locked following increasing incidences of illegal naughties going on….now, however, some genius has installed one of those all encompassing blocks near the bowling greens – relief!

Sadly some lowlife managed to burn the old building down

The burned out bowling green hire cabin

The burned out bowling green hire cabin

 

……..but they have rebuilt and as I say, installed some new pay as you go loos – oh the relief!

They also have one of those Adidas sponsored exercise areas.

On your marks....

On your marks….

 

Work that body....

Work that body….

 

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like these areas. They remind me so much of the ones you get on the beaches in Spain…so, of course, remind me of being in Spain. I missed it so much last year, choosing not to fly whilst pregnant, but can’t wait to get back there this year to the lovely villa.

I digress…

Moor Park is a lovely place to walk round, you can play tennis, bowls, take a cycling tour, care of a Council initiative, feed the ducks on the pond…or just have a nice sit down.

There’s also an observatory and it breaks my heart to know that it is no longer in use. I would dream of looking up at the stars from there when I was a child and the minute I became an adult, they shut it down and stopped the public viewings. TYPICAL. Someone get Dara O’Briain and Brian Cox on the case!

There’s a car park at the Preston North End end of the park so no excuses for not giving it a whirl – best in the summer and autumn months!

 

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Lost my old house – finally!

Lost in the Night Garden

It’s funny how I’ve had this photo for ages and have chosen not to post it. I think first and foremost because strictly speaking it goes against my code – which is articles of clothing and garments only….however, I couldn’t resist.

It was lying on the hedge of the doctor’s opposite my old house. The house had been on the market for over a year and we finally sold just before Christmas at the back end of November. On the one hand it was a relief. On the other it was an absolutely beautiful 1930’s semi, drenched in sunlight, lots of original features and in a nice neighbourhood so it was sad to see it unoccupied.

The irony was just before I finally packed the very last thing…..I found this in the front garden…

Actually is that mine?

The irony is two fold…first off to have a discarded sock in my own front garden….who’d have imagined……and secondly because looking back at it now, I am wondering if it’s one of my own!

Dumbasses of the world unite!

 

 

Lost in Cleveleys – where?

Hmm Cleveleys.

I once went to a wedding in Poulton, that of a close friend, one of those friendships you make in adulthood that you never think could ever be as deep and meaningful as the ones you make in your childhood and teens, or even at University…although I personally would not describe my University years as the best of my life….I digress, but said bride had asked me to speak, in a sort of best man/woman capacity, so it was with a sense of purpose that I left the church looking for the reception venue.

The reception could not have been in a more prominent hotel – Blackpool’s fabulous Imperial Hotel. Don’t forget I’m from around these parts so how hard can it be to drive, what, 5 miles? But boy oh boy did I get lost – in Cleveleys!

It’s like the end of the earth. It’s like there is no soul to the place but a massive great apron, criss-crossed by tram lines and bespattered with cars not knowing where they’re going.

I actually drove out and back into Cleveleys several times before having a near nervous breakdown and going down a route I thought totally inaccurate and freeing myself from the vortex.

A ray of sunshine in an otherwise grey landscape

The classic utility glove - ah you can smell the rubber!

These were taken by another good friend, the wonderful Kath Walker. You may know her from such tweets as @kathwalkerart.

It’s been a week for artists and beaches. My sister sent me a link to a piece of footage from the Guardian website documenting the new Turner Gallery at Margate. Or do they call it an artist’s space? I don’t know but it all sounds like classic bullshit to me. The building whose light is described as capricious (oh perrrrrleeease) looks like something Staples may have purhcased to fill with stationery for the masses. I can’t criticise the light, I’m sure David Chipperfield’s anticipation of light, its uses when lighting installations etc etc have been taken into consideration to a great degree, but I pale when I listen to creative types bang on these days. And as my husband knows to his cost, once I’m on my soapbox about the Turner prize there’s no stopping me.

The building, situated on Margate’s seafront, is meant to emulate boatsheds. I’m sure it does. But we live in tough times and erecting something which looks like a glorified pre-fab could not scream EMPEROR’S NEW CLOTHES more if it tried.

I’m ever conscious of the spend these days. I listen to Radio 4’s Today programme daily and whince at the latest financial crises to hit our world, so cannot help but wonder if this money would not have been better spent keeping a library open, or even converting a library into a double space. Apologies if this has been privately funded, I was so bored by the footage I had to mentally switch off.

This morning’s Lancashire Evening Post billboards shout the news that Preston is, after all, going to demolish its bus station. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not a pretty building. In fact it’s pretty grim. But it’s iconic. It’s from an era when cast concrete was funky, cool and could be so again. It’s home to a multi-storey car park which creates a safe passage for night time concert goers to walk through to the Guild Hall. I point this out as my 76 year old mother, a regular visitor to the Liverpool Philharmonic concerts, feels suddenly wrong footed. Where will she park? Will she feel safe? No. One of two things will happen. I will take her or she will stop going.

John Lewis say they intend to move onto the site. Surely John Lewis have a creative design team when it comes to their stores. Surely they could convert the place into one of Britain’s funkiest looking shopping destinations? It appears not. They don’t even have to try too hard. Ben Casey has mocked up a superb impression of what we could do with the place.  I silently weep for the crap that will be erected in its place. Whoopee, another faceless prefab….but hey….may be the light will be suitably capricious to entice us into parting with our cash for some JL goodies.

A sad day for Prestonians as we look towards 2012 and the Preston Guild 20 years celebrations. And our city’s motto? Proud Preston.

I’m not proud today, not by a long chalk.

The Crocs of Brock!

Anyone who knows Brock Bottoms on the outskirts of Preston will know what a divine place it is.

I remember once going down for a walk along the river and the most wonderful person had been down there and left a trail. Every few yards along the path were fairies – peering out of flowers, illuminated in jam jars, hiding in trees, it was simply magical. Even barring the fairies, however, it is a lovely place and scene of one of those cringeing moments in my life.

I was out late one night with my first boyfriend, driving test recently passed and we had parked up in the car park. In those days it was not a formal one, covered in tarmac but a mud bath! We got stuck, wheels spun, we were covered in slutch. We couldn’t see a thing and finally around 11pm had to find a phone, call my Dad and beg to be rescued! Oh the shame. I could never be considered cool thereafter.

Jeepers Skeechers where d'ya leave those creepers?

This pic was taken by @markymarkf whose flickr stream is well worth a visit if you’ve not already seen them.

The Crocs craze really amazed me, not least the number of manufacturers who have followed suit in a similar vein – here the Skechers option, obviously so well loved that it was left in a field at the aforementioned Brock Bottoms!

I was always a wooden clogs gal so the idea of some rubber imitation was an appalling idea but hey who am I to judge (ahem!)? My friends and relatives swear by them.

For really good clogs, however, you could do worse than look at these beauties from Denmark! I bought my sister some of the high heeled ones for Christmas and she says they’re the most comfortable shoes she’s ever worn!

 

Casting the Ingol Gauntlet (s)

The final offering from Kath Walker, taken on Ingol Golf Course. A pair of gloves – quite a rarity in the realms of the lost…..I kind of wish that the left hand one was just the two fingers sticking up, given the plight of the locals.

This week saw the first residents meeting to discuss what can be done to stop any attempts to build on the former golf course land. Regular readers of the lost blog will know that the course has now closed and that the pay and play, lifebelt of an alternative to a members’ course, drowned. The owners are now talking about an option to use the land to develop new housing. Naturally those who bought properties on a golf village are none too pleased by the suggestion.

Now that the residents’ association has been formed then hopefully now a unanimous voice can be heard and people act as a mass, one voice, not just fragmented comments. Whether or not the land is used as a housing development has no direct effect on me whatsoever, it’s the principle that bugs me. I find it wholly unacceptable to sell anything, seemingly under such false pretences. Buying a house is probably most people’s biggest ever purchase. It’s more than an investment in bricks and mortar, it’s your future, your family’s happiness and to invest in one of the existing homes would not have been a light decision.

I read the coverage in the local paper and am not surprised in the least that tempers soared and people argued among themselves – but guys, keep the faith! You’ve got a name for yourselves now, consolidate your actions and fight. I kind of think that the people of Preston will support you unanimously!!! If not then what U-turns in decisions for the rest of us living in the City who might have bought under similar circumstances?

So gloves….yes, I have NEVER come across a lost pair – so well done Ms Walker!

The A6 glove beckons

This fella was left on a bush just after the first heavy snows hit Preston around the 23rd December. It made me laugh as it seemed to beckon with its raised finger – either that or it had frozen and had rigor mortis!

Despite the lack of apparent white stuff on the bush, it was about 6 inches on the roads and pavements, which meant that Christmas Eve in the Black Bull was more than enjoyable – no hoards of people, nicely busy and a lovely atmosphere when ordinarily you wouldn’t get me there on such a prominent date – far too many people for my liking.

I walked past the glove enroute to the newroomsonline warehouse having a snowball fight with the eminent Dr Toby Brandon all the way, in fact, truth be known, he might have taken the picture as my shortness made it difficult to take a good one and I handed over the camera!

Great fun – shame someone has a blue hand!