LHB Blog

A girl, a blog and a cactus named Pudding

Category: Lancashire (Page 1 of 2)

Placebo – Manchester

**Because of the note at the bottom of the post I’m putting a warning up for this one as I’m talking about Cancer**

Alternative title: Music … A healer of sorts.

Over the weekend I found out that my dad has a tumour behind one of his eyes, yesterday I found out he also has shadowing on one of his lungs … He is on a 2 week waiting list to find out if either of those is “the big C” (as he can’t bring himself to call it cancer). It feels like a significant part of my world has shifted … A part I don’t want to shift … A shift filled with guttural shrieks of a pain I have never experienced before. A fear I have never experienced before. An anger I have never experienced before. An unknown.

And a need to feel a link to our bond, to ease the hurt of the possibilities … That link for me was Placebo celebrating their 20th Anniversary. That link, for me, was hearing Brian Molko singing “Nancy Boy“. As strange as that may seem.

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Martin Mere (#LHB_Travels)

Alternative title: Because wet cats don’t look like otters.

“Can I snaffle some otters?” I ask M, excited by the idea.

“Snaffle some otters?” He looks at me puzzled.

“Well, yeah. You have to take two because they hold hands while they sleep so they don’t drift apart …” I’m beginning to ramble a bit.

“No you can’t snaffle any otters” He says, but I barely hear him.

“… I suppose I could just have one and have a little tub of water by the bed for it to sleep in and it could hold my hand while it sleeps!” I’m already searching for mini bath tubs on Google for said otter.

“Ruebi … You can’t have an otter …” He says slowly, my bottom lip is out in protest as he continues “but you could always put Millie in the bath. Wet cats look like otters”.

Anyone want to risk putting my mischievous Bengal kitty step-daughter in the bath to test that theory? No? Me neither!  I value the skin on my arms too much.

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The Circus of Horrors

**Spoilers Warning folks … Kinda has to be done right?!** 

Alternative title: Despite my Anxious disposition I have a strange affinity for the macabre, the spooky and the downright shit your pants terrifying (remember my Farmageddon Experience?) … So when CarnEvil rolled into town I was ready to sell my left boob and maybe a little toe for a gawp at the horrors that awaited within the Mechanics Theatre! (As it turns out, M bought surprise tickets … *phew*).

While most people would be slightly horrified by the sight of a gentleman tying (rather heavy looking) objects to his tallywacker and gyrating, I found myself laughing hysterically while the old dear next to me grabbed my arm and shrieked “oooo my Lord!”.

Yes ladies and gents, it was one of those evenings.

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Merry Christmas Brain

Alternative title: On the 23rd day of Christmas the NHS gave to me, a meeting with a PWP! 

Quite frankly taking your brain to speak to the mental health team (in this case, a Psychological Wellbeing Practitioner) is a lot like taking your pet to the vets. There’s all the excitement of an adventure, the bouncing around in the car, the barking along to East 17’s “Stay Another Day” … It’s all perfectly fine, all very friendly, until it can see the building – then the penny drops and all hell breaks loose as it creates a dirty protest while lying on the floor refusing to budge any further and tantruming over a thermometer being stuck up it’s butt … Ok so the last bit applies to pets only but you get my point.

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