That must be a hard to hack if you've had a few scoops the night before.Well done you have nearly passed a man test .
After leaving the Fens at a tender age of 18, the family headed for the 'bright lights' of Blackpool. I had no commitments in my old town so I though well, if I didn't like the move? I could always head back? My Family bought a hotel, and back in the day the place was booming, there's no doubting that, the intention was that I would work along side my family, earn enough to keep me through the winter plus helping Dad with the renovations ready for the following season. I realised almost immediately this was not the kind of industry I was going to grow to love, i could not deal with the bullshit that went with it, so I kept myself in the background and basically ran the Bar through the season, adding to that that my sister became pissed with power and just pecked away and I thought, I ain't sticking this shit for the rest of my natural. Mum and dad was real good about it, I continued to live at the hotel helping out with the renovations, I started work in a local amusement arcade as a floor walker, great fun chatting up the pissed up chip eaters and usually ending up with regular leg over on a Friday and Saturday night. I stuck that for a couple of seasons, although they kept me on straight away full time there was just not enough security in the job, so end of season 1989 I tootled off to the local transport company, they take on every season for then tram conductors, taking the cream of the crop and take them on full time as PCV drivers. I missed the first wave of drivers by two places, but in 1990 i took to the trams as a seasonal comductor, again missed the PCV, In 1991 another rival bus company 'Blue Busses' were advertising for drivers, off I went got the job and kept on full time, ironically I eventually ended up at Rigby road, as they bought out our company. I drove for 10 years, I loved the job, don't know what happened but I just couldn't deal with the public anymore, so rather than spewing it when a position arose I applied for driver/labourer job on the tramway overhead, I've been doing that now for 11 years, again I love it seen a lot of changes, the system has gone from a dilapidated 120 year old has been to a £130 million super tramway. So 22 years this year with the same company. Perhaps the change in positions along the way has kept me there? But one thing I will say, Blackpool and the company has been good to me, yeah, it's not the place I moved to some 24/25 years ago, but hey, step outside your own front door and take a look around. Things change.
Left the Fens "never" I was with you on Sunday and besides the Tourette's you seem to be near normal .
I spent thousands on counselling Giv. The Fireblade is part of the therapy The Tourette's I'm afraid you have to love me or hate me for it. Fcuk!
Hands appear fine Freedom but the gimp limp gives the game way You can take the bloke out of the fens !But you can't take the Fens out of a bloke!
I agree, there is some misconception about the fen dwellers. I mean to say, people who live in can I say 'normal' countryside environment 'green fields rolling hillsides' perhaps considered as just harmless bumpkins, or shit kickers for another term, the fens folk are well, considered to be a strange bunch to say the least, perhaps it's back to the eel and samphire diet that so many people tend to link fens folk with eating, perhaps it's because of the wild uninhabital location we called home, due to tides and filled creeks and marshes we could not get back to the 'mainland' for 12 hours at a time, And it would be difficult to make rumpy with others not sharing the same surname. But apart from that's the fens have a romance that anyone who has visited will only understand. I can count on one hand at least 7 reasons why I would return back there tomorrow should my circumstances allow it.
You're not a special case mate. Jeanette's family comes from north Devon. This means that in any decent size car park you only need wait an hour or so before a DNA compatible pair of kidneys knuckles by.
Funny timing this thread... ive spent the last 12 years writing accountancy software. The company is like a comfy pair of slippers, I love it there. Nonetheless I have become overly relied upon due to my ocd-level professionalism amongst a sea of slack-jawed wage-takers. Also ive gone as far as I can with no real jumps in job/prospects/pay available for the foreseeable. So, ive taken a new job, in a completely new-to-me industry (scaffold design) with a sizeable pay cut, because it offers a very real possibility of going places and building a business I can be proud of... I start Monday!!! Just 2 more days of comfy slippers, then off to scary new pastures, and all at the ripe old age of 35. I guess what im saying is lifes too short to stress about a job... if you fancy a change just do it, else you'll become one of those annoying whingers that all companies seem to have.
Not only am I on the same page as you Gary, I am on the same sentence. When I moved here about six years ago, I really hated it and it took a good while to get used to the total change from living in a City. Where we live is certainly bleak and wild and at this time of year uninhabitable, even the mice and rats make it their main priority to get into the warmth and comfort of our cottage. The wind never stops howling across the miles of open fields around us and its freezing cold. But come spring and summer everything changes, there is nothing like driving to work and civilization early in the morning as the sun is coming up watching the wild deer, and all manor of other animals going about their business. The other noticeable change in me is when I am working in London or any other city for that matter, it’s kind of claustrophobic. They don’t call the Fens ‘The big sky country’ for nothing. I have got used to having space, we have five and half aches of land, it’s a pain in the arse to keep the grass cut but I am not sure I could go back to living in a square box, next to lots of people in other square boxes all with the same little gardens to be mowed every Sunday. We could run round outside naked; screaming our heads off and no one would see or hear us. In an ideal world we would live here but have a flat in London to use during the week to avoid being so tired all the time from getting up at five every morning and L having the long, Monday to Friday drive, train, tube commute to work. Luckily I don’t have to do it everyday. Would I move back to the city, I doubt it. But I do keep checking my hands and feet for any deformities and webbing that might be forming. So far so good.
My mother hated Sunday evenings during the school term. Always took her an age to cut our toe nails after our bath.
