Piggy, the Cats and the Swinging Tramp

Darwin has a strange relationship with cats at the moment, he doesn't like to say goodbye to them.  In a rare moment the other week we were watching something on TV that wasn't Thomas and Friends, a cartoon about a singing cat, and when it finished he began to cry with tears in his eyes whimpering, "again, again".  We watched that bloody cartoon about 50 times!

And he has a cat friend on the hill.  Some mornings it's about to greet us and he always comes to say hello, but leaving him always causes Darwin a little distress.

Darwin and I had the day to ourselves so we went to buy a tweed jacket (which was a fucking nightmare!), ate an ice cream in the Winter sun and bobbed into Towneley Park in Burnley for a go on the swings and stuff.

There's a difference in the type of folk who frequent the Towneley Park play area and Tatton Park, where we were the other weekend.  And when I say 'difference' it's like comparing an Apple to a Blue Whale, an alcoholic Blue Whale with tourettes!  I know that I'm no stranger to a bit of swearing but Jesus!  The first swing, a large round swing that would normally fit 3 children on, was being occupied by a tramp with a coat over him much to the amusement of passing kids who were taking it upon them selves to swing him as high as possible.  An older child shouted, "Jimmy, get over here NOW.  Mi dad's gonna fuckin kill yer".  And lots of the attractions were either damaged or soiled.  We didn't stay long.








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