grumpyf1

It’s been a calamitous week for the carnivorous, with the alarming news that processed meats can cause cancer. According to the World Health Organisation, processed meats such as bacon (Ooo, yum), sausages (Mmmm...) and ham (Yes, please!) do cause cancer. Oh – suddenly, I’m not quite so hungry. This news is worse than discovering that the love of your life has been cheating on you – you can get another ‘significant other’, but bacon? That’s irreplaceable. Still, I can have a burger, right? No? Damn. I think I just heard some vegetarians sniggering. ‘Processed’ means anything treated to extend it’s shelf-life, including smoking, curing, or adding salt or preservatives. Frighteningly, the WHO says that 50g of processed meat per day increases the risk of colorectal cancer by 18%. That’s a measly two rashers of bacon. At the weekend I had a bacon sarnie for breakfast, a ham sandwich for lunch and sausage casserole for dinner – I’m surprised I’m still around to write this column (...

Is it still light out?  Well, enjoy it while you can because at the weekend gloom time arrives, and there’s nothing we can do about it until Spring. If you were looking for a nice, cheery, introduction, then you’re in to the wrong place. For the next four months or so, I’m declaring this column a sanctuary for those affected by WIMPEY (Winter Irritates Me Practically Every Year) Syndrome. For fellow sufferers, the impending clocks-going-backness that occurs this weekend is a depressing alarm call, ringing in the debilitating fact that it’ll be dark at 5pm until March, Halloween is lurking ominously round the corner in a cheap mask from Tesco, and it’s mere days away from the Daily Mail carrying a “Weather Bomb/Worst Winter For a Generation” headline to make us feel even more forlorn. Thanks to the brilliant decision to shove the clocks back by an hour, those afflicted by the unfortunate problem of a 9-5 job will no longer get to see the beautiful autumn colours. No, thank...

It’s been said that history is written by the winners.  That may be true, but if you pop to South Korea, you’ll soon find it has been penned by the government. I didn’t really enjoy history lessons at school. Well, it was all a very long time ago (History, and school, now that I come to think about it). So much so, that I can’t even remember the name of the teacher who attempted, in vain, to get me interested in stuff that happened before Multi-Coloured Swap Shop, or (at a push) The Beatles. In my defence, If you’re going to put the dingy portakabin used for attempting education right next to the playing fields, that’s a sure fire way of guaranteeing a lack of attention that would make the recently deceased seem keen. Nearly four decades later, I can see why having an office with the structural potency of a shed next to a field might still not be the greatest idea for keeping my... uh... mind... you know... Ooh! Sheep! Where were we? South Korea, that’s right. You woul...

Rock!  Loud, vibrant, visceral, finger-on-the-pulse stuff, performed by angry young people with several chip shops on their shoulder. Yeah! Apparently not... You know you’re no longer riding the wave of popular culture when you realise that some of your favourite new-fangled CDs are significantly older than family members attending university. That, and time spent styling what’s left of your hair before a night out takes less time than shaving your ears. Just me then? Oh. Moving swiftly on, I seem to remember that pop music was pretty slick, syncopated, brilliant stuff, performed by beautiful young people who were so achingly cool they probably slept in fridges (but don’t try that at home, kids.) For me, rock royalty and perfect pop bestrode the late 70s and early 80s in a heady blur of big hair, glossy MTV videos, enormous gigs and record sales that today’s acts can only dream about - when they aren’t autotuning themselves or trying to out-shock each other for another in...

On Monday evening, I had the pleasure of listening to the fascinating story of a uniquely Cumbrian business, as told by one of it’s founders. Way back in time (2007, in fact), I was working at Touchstone Interiors, in Skelwith Bridge. Interesting new products were selected regularly, and one day I noticed a particularly striking style take up residence on a shelf in the store. There were only two items on display; a keyfob and a mug, in a selection of bright colours, all with a very simple, but striking, graphic-designed Herdwick sheep’s face on them. I thought they were great, and my niece got one for Christmas. I was unaware at the time, but Herdy, the company behind the unique design, had just started up. During the course of an enjoyable 90 minutes at Kendal College, Spencer Hannah explained how he and wife Diane have developed their company from a potentially disastrous start at the Westmorland County Show (where the Foot and Mouth Crisis left them attempting to launch t...