Tag Archives: Social

Let’s Take A Walk

Home. It’s a mix of social housing, those bought out and modernized and those with identical front doors and garden gates, making sure everyone knows who’s on their arse and who has risen above it after years of graft.

It’s a reproduction of a blueprint that makes up vast swathes of the city landscape. There’s no money here. People get by.

Kids still play kirby here, extra points for lobbing the ball over a moving car. On Fridays, the street is dotted with purple bins. Walking one end to the other requires slalom skills to avoid the debris and dog crap.

There’s a blossom tree, about 50 doors down, right in the middle. It battles against the Spring showers and dusts pink petals over the pavement every spring, they’re prettiest when it rains. Light and dark. The best kind of litter.

The puppy with the big chocolate button eyes, caged in the front yard. Now a 2-year-old dancing around its own muck, still in the same front yard he’s outgrown. He used to whine for you to stroke him whenever you passed by the gate. Now he barks, consistently until you’re out of sight.

When he comes over, he parks at the side of the house. No doubt wanting to avoid embarrassment should anyone recognise his car. My parents park across the street, in front of the privately-owned house, with the double extension, high gates, and security floodlights that illuminate our bedrooms at night. My dads gleaming white, 4×4 more at home on the opposite side of the road.

The top-end, or bottom end depending on how long you’ve lived here, is a shit show. The back of the betting shop, chippy, and pharmacy. An alleyway consistently fly-tipped with broken beds, sofas, and ripped bin bags. The sunbed shop, beauty salon, and mini market, under the art deco style canopy, smell like hair stray, burned skin, ale. The extra-large council bin outside always smells like grease.

The kids who hang around the shops mimic adults. They’ve already grown up in many ways. Hardened to life. Head to toe in the latest North Face. Mini bags slung across their bodies, smoking, spitting, swearing. They’re about 8, maybe 9 at most. Full of pent up aggression. Stealing from the mini-market because they know they can get away with it. Barred for a couple of days until the other, local cashier comes on and lets them away with it again. It’s only a can of Coke, or a packet of crisps. Barring them lasts a day or two.

Behind the chippy and the betting shop is the very last house in the street. It’s been bought by two developers in the time I’ve lived here. The first one renovated it by hand. From wedding the 30ft long driveway, to replastering and fitting new windows throughout, he did it on his own. I’d stop and say hi sometimes, tell him the transformation was looking great.

It went on the market at the same time kids jemmied the new PVC door open. They smashed the windows, started a fire in the living room. Pulled the plaster off the walls, exposing the electrics. Eventually the top floor window fell out, framing the weeds that grew again in the front garden. I often wonder what the developer felt like, seeing his hard work destroyed and vandalised, just as he was set to sell and move on.

Kids leave bikes in the front gardens. Lost baby shoes and dummies are propped on the fence posts in the hope of a reunion. Primary age kids walk and cycle alone to school on the next block.

On the opposite side, about 20 houses up lives a lady and my cat. My cat had a litter of kittens at home and once she had nurtured them, my cat bogged off down the road to charm the Whiskas out of my neighbour.

I know all of this because the neighbour kindly knocked on my door and told me she had adopted my cat, renamed her Sasha, and moved her into a very comfortable bed from John Lewis. Occasionally I catch the cat, who I refuse to call Sasha, pissing in my back garden.

I moved here because the house is close enough for us to all walk to and from school every day, It’s also a short walk for my eldest daughter to see her dad regularly too. When I moved in I was 9 months pregnant and the house was in a sorry state. Unable to see my feet and stand any longer than 30 minutes, I relied heavily on my parents to help make the shell a home.

For the first few weeks, we all slept in our own beds, but in one room. It felt like incubation as my body completed the last of the preparations before my son was born. I didn’t want to move out of that room, having the girls close was a huge comfort when it felt like everything around us was in disarray.

Another gift from this house in the ghetto was a life long, real friendship. I may have only been here for 5 years, but my friendship with Kate, just 50 odd doors down has spanned 25 years. Never knowing that when we met in senior school, we’d be mums, neighbors, and Friday night kitchen disco dancing queens, all this time later. She’s a blessing, her kids are amazing and I’m so lucky to have her and her mum next door but one.

Speaking of blessings. Denise lives two doors up. She’s a nursery nurse at the children’s hospital nursery. Caring for and educating the children of health care professionals. Denise has a family of her own. Her partner of more than 25 years lives in a house in the next road. They have their own space but share a life together. Denise always knocks on my door with Christmas, birthday and Easter treats for the kids. For absolutely no reason other than she is the kindest soul.

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The sun comes up in the mornings and illuminates a pyramid gable end of the house out the back. A satellite dish the only blot on the golden bricks. I look forward to this and in the summer months I can time it along with when the bin truck comes on Fridays to collect the purple bins dotted along the street. It’s home.


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Light My Fire

How To be Single, Because Exposure Isn’t So Delicious and 25 Things I Love About Liverpool – why everyone should have a bash at public speaking. 

Ignite Liverpool celebrates its 10th anniversary this year. If you’re not familiar with this fantastic social gathering and speaking forum, you’re seriously missing out.

In its own words: “Ignite showcases Liverpool’s movers and shakers, creators, thinkers, tinkers, innovators and doers, makers and dreamers in a fast paced format designed to inspire. Do you want to be inspired? Do you need to get your creative juices flowing? Then Ignite Liverpool is just for you.”

I have to thank my friend and former Liverpool City Councillor, James Noakes for introducing me to Ignite, on what I remember to be a cold, Monday night in the city. Heading upstairs at Leaf on Bold Street to a bright, bustling room filled with inspiring people with something to say. Others eager to listen. I learned all kinds that first night. The dentistry talk was genuinely fascinating while a bloke from West Derby documented his global journey. It was dead good.

Anyone can get up and speak at Ignite. All you have to do is prepare a five minute presentation and 20 power point slides to accompany your talk. Simples.

I knew from the off I wanted to have a crack at it. I was absolutely bricking it and my delivery wasn’t great. But I really enjoyed it. My first talk was about exposure as currency. Having done a tiny bit of digging into freelance life, I noticed a worrying trend of freelancers in the media industry chasing payments for work – FOR YEARS!

Not content with pretty much blowing my first attempt, I had another go. I talked about How To Be Single, which at the time was an idea for a column I’d had at work. It flowed so much better because I ditched the script and talked about what I’m most passionate about. Communication. Oh the irony!

Lastly, I had a five minute ramble about the incredible people of Liverpool. A city I’ve called my adopted home for many years. The humour, the characters the inspirational women blazing a trail for the next generation.

I’m still not great at public speaking. My nerves are always shot, but once I get up there, it’s such a great experience. The Ignite Liverpool crowd is always a welcoming one that wants to see you do well.

Today I received an email about the 10th anniversary edition of Ignite Liverpool on 4th March 2020 at Leaf on Bold Street from 6pm. I’m absolute chuffed to bits to say I’ve been asked to speak at the event and already my mind has gone into overdrive as to what to choose as my subject.

Sending my huge thanks to Neil, Adrian, Dan and the team at Ignite Liverpool for the invitation and the support in helping me to combat the nerves – which have never gone away! Here’s to another 10 years of inspiring, insightful and engaging talks and presentations on the weird and wonderful.

Find out more about Ignite Liverpool and get involved by heading to www.igniteliverpool.com and follow @igniteliv on Twitter for event updates.

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