A Lad from Featherstone

  These gummies make me anxious . 21 st May 2025.        21 st Day NO ALCOHOL Hi all, three weeks under the belt and the rain has arrived (washing still out, hey ho) to give me a day at the computer. Chatting with my son later but an otherwise clear diary to get back to one of my favourite pastime by writing again. Up at 0700, wheatgrass shot and black coffee, followed by 0800 online chat with my Curaleaf  consultant, as their Indica gummies -take one an hour before bed- give me anxiety at 0400 so have stopped and returned to my regular supplier, Activist Co-operative farmers who have also been granted medical status. This is calming and relaxing [As a side note both Curaleaf and Activist are cheaper than the high THC Indica crap you buy on the street .] I opened Dropbox/Colin/Blogs/24 just before 0900, had a gander and there it was, synchronicity, the unpublished blog I wrote last December, on day 101 of no alcohol, when two days later I visited ...

  Bridlington, Brid as the locals call it, is in my DNA July 1952.  The newly married couple, Betty and Clifford Lambert, South Cliff, Bridlington, East Yorkshire. [Yorkshire Post] Nine months, later 29 th  April 1953, I arrive in the world.  Dad had just taken part in the world’s first, live, televised game of Rugby League; the Cup Final, Featherstone Rover V Workington Town at Wembley. The highlights were transmitted world-wide on Pathe News, and now on YouTube. My first memory of Brid was aged 7, Featherstone Miners Welfare chartered a train to send the townsfolk and their children for their annual day at the seaside. A tuckshop bag with a sarny, bag of crisps and bottle of pop. I fell in love with trains and Brid. By the time I was thirteen,1966. we had a 4 berth van Southcliffe Caravan Park where my mum was way to busy looking after Mick 9, John 7 and Mandy 5 to pander to my needs. I would walk for miles along the beach, sit on the harbour wall dreaming ...

Fearherstone circa 1960 Hi and welcome back You will recall in Chapter 1: How to write your life story,  I made a reasonable start, but tended to get my 1st and 3rd person - I and Colin- mixed up. A way to go but this blog is in the first person.  Yesterdays history lesson made it pretty clear that most of us Wessie's have Viking DNA somewhere down the line. Add a dose of Celtic and I know understand why my beard was ginger yet all other hair, hang on, amost all other hair brown. My Movember tash of today still has traces. Judge for Yourself. It is therefore important I spend a little more time on my formative years in Featherstone. 28 De Lacy Avenue, North Featherstone, West Yorkshire. Dad has just scored the winning try in the Yorkshire Cup final, and the Yorkshire Post wants to portray him as ‘happy families’ if you know what I mean? Myself, on the left, brothers John, on dad’s head, and Mick. Mum and sister Mandy (still inside mum) comes later, please be patient.  ...

A  flag of West Yorkshire - A Yorkshire rose on a Nordic Cross Hi all, I should have bee driving 310 miles to Sherborne Dorset, but storm Bert put stop to that. I should have been enjoying my Latte sat on a bench overlooking Bridlington Harbour harbour when a portly looking man on the next bench belowed into his phone; 'Efin Wessies, cum over Fridays in their efin cars with their efin kids and him over thi er - he points at a couple scoffing fish and chips- e's never givn me owt fo fact a let im park in me efin parking space every efin weekend. Efin pint or fish and chips wud be nice but nowt, all they ever say as leaving is, "see ya later" and their off. Efin Wessies" I was planning to respond and say, 'excuse me old chap but I am a Wessie and live here'  but given my accent has gone all funny in fifty years down south I thought better of it. Instead I sit at my new shiney, intel core ultra 5, all in one thingy typing. I need to know more about this trib...

                                     Normanton Grammar School   Colin’s school for six, lonely, yet unbelievable, years . You will recall he wrote a coincidental story about a boat trip from Bridlington to London in the last chapter, for his 11+ resit.   That was early December 1965, and nothing heard by the end of term, all hopes of another life had been lost.   Then, clunk went the letterbox Friday 31st December 1965 and Colin joined the road less travelled with no turning back. Normanton Grammar School. Brick built, slate roof, Dutch gables, stone mullions plus a grand entrance with bell tower. Architectural folly funded by ‘where there’s muck, there’s brass’ built circa 1910. Teachers in gowns, Hamilton, the headmaster often appeared on stage with red bits of loo paper stuck to his chin. He hated the PE department, even though they brought his school nationwide fame. ...

  21 st November 2024. Bridlington East Yorkshire Dad and I (Clifford & Colin Lambert) are snowed in.  My Flex Stretch & Groove (I teach the class) cancelled , day 82 no alcohol and playing with my new shiney white, all in the screen, black friday, new computer -with the money saved from not drinking - and here we go again. I feels lovely. I was born into a Yorkshire mining town, famous for it's giant killing rugby team, Featherstone Rovers. My  dad was captain. I left for London age 19 with my 'Eyes Wide Shut'. I returned to Yorkshire, Bridlington, in 2022 with my eyes wide open. Here I chart my life story in an heartfelt, amusing, open, honest and at times tragic tale of love, life and adventure story sort of way. I also embrace the challenges faced by being a man, especially a Yorshireman, in this fast changing world. I am blessed to share my journey with you. Om Here are the first three chapters 1     Part 1.     https://col...