Sometimes there is nothing to write about, well there are a couple of small annoyances but I would rather report on positives than negatives. I have seen examples of how small minded and self centred some people can be, despite me pointing out the positives of their situation but some people are only happy when they are miserable and complaining.
I've been to some brilliant places in Yorkshire this week and the staff in every shop, restaurant and historical site have been absolutely brilliant, an absolute joy to speak to and be in the company of.
Yesterday was a supposed five mile walk round Thirsk which hit a sort of brick wall when we hit a level ploughed field and the directions stated "walk across the field and down to a path". Normal directions state left or right or north, south, east or west unless you are near a hill in which case up or down becomes a valid direction.
The problem is that books are fixed while the state of the landscape can change significantly (like a field being ploughed), the positive out of this was that I ended up doing ten miles again yesterday, and that means I've done ten miles twice this week yesterday and on Monday. I think I normally do thirty miles a week, and that is over fifteen hundred miles a year which seems a lot, but it's John O'Groats to Lands End and back with three hundred miles to spare although to walk round the coast of the UK you would be looking at nearly eight thousand miles , which at this rate would take me six years to do on foot.
Anyway the title of this post is inspired by the poem by The Bard of Salford , John Cooper Clarke which I will leave you with a performance of and the actual poem which you can also see here (as well as all his other poems).
I've been to some brilliant places in Yorkshire this week and the staff in every shop, restaurant and historical site have been absolutely brilliant, an absolute joy to speak to and be in the company of.
Yesterday was a supposed five mile walk round Thirsk which hit a sort of brick wall when we hit a level ploughed field and the directions stated "walk across the field and down to a path". Normal directions state left or right or north, south, east or west unless you are near a hill in which case up or down becomes a valid direction.
The problem is that books are fixed while the state of the landscape can change significantly (like a field being ploughed), the positive out of this was that I ended up doing ten miles again yesterday, and that means I've done ten miles twice this week yesterday and on Monday. I think I normally do thirty miles a week, and that is over fifteen hundred miles a year which seems a lot, but it's John O'Groats to Lands End and back with three hundred miles to spare although to walk round the coast of the UK you would be looking at nearly eight thousand miles , which at this rate would take me six years to do on foot.
Anyway the title of this post is inspired by the poem by The Bard of Salford , John Cooper Clarke which I will leave you with a performance of and the actual poem which you can also see here (as well as all his other poems).
NOTHING
Something is but nothing
Something it is not
Nil plus nil is nothing
Nothings what I got
Nothing on the tele
Nothing going on
Nothing to get worked up about
Nothing by the ton
Nothing times a million
Nothing minus ten
Don’t say nothing to no one
It’s nothing to do with them
Come all the way from nowhere
And now I’m nowhere else
Where nothing is out of place
No one lives
And nothing smells
Talking to no one
It’s like talking to the wall
I give you what I get
I give you bugger all
So have a brilliant Friday everyone as we run into the weekend
