Musings From The Padded Cell

Fertile Bradford

“Wall Street is the only place that people ride to in a Rolls Royce to get advice from those who take the subway.”
Warren Buffett

‘Tis The Time To Be Vigilant

Monday morning Pensioners’ Pilates was a strange old affair this week. Our teacher, The Iron Lady, had suffered an attempted break-in at the weekend, saved only by the sash jammers on her door.

Simple but highly effective.

As she flexed her biceps choosing the eighties soundtrack to serenade us with, I mused that the scroats may have bitten off more than they could have handled especially if she had been in her hair net.

I placed my mat gingerly, glad I’d refused Patch’s suggestion of a nightcap at The Scruffy, wondering why we could not keep to Government alcohol guidelines as my eyes closed gently to welcome the working week.

The Chancellor’s worries about UK productivity would have to wait an hour.

As I lay in Kids Corner – average age circa 50 – Young Vicky arrived to cheer us all up. A lifelong devotee of personal fitness she was in a sombre mood.

“My back’s killing, my legs ache, I can barely bend down and I’m fifty in two weeks!” she wailed.

Not good with teary women to start a week – nor finish one for that matter – I prayed a blast of George Michael would soothe her.

The Iron Lady commanded ageing and aged bodies alike to bend, stretch and gradually clunk into action. For an hour Young Vicky moaned and groaned, still en route to fifty, clubbing days a distant memory.

I asked her if she would be maintaining the class tradition.

“Will you be buying a box of Quality Street for the old lasses so we can sing happy birthday to you?”

The look offered my way suggested the old girls would have no need to fight over the soft centres. Some people just don’t age gracefully.

Next week we are having a David Cassidy tribute hour. Could it be forever – sadly not.

You Can’t Do That!

It may well be a co-incidence but, following on from my blog last week concerning problems with teenage yobs in our village, a petition calling for a 10pm teenage curfew gained strong momentum until it was strangely taken down.

In a short time it had attracted almost 700 signatures, not too far off what you need to get elected as a councillor. And then it was no more.

Reading comments objecting to the idea, they seemed oblivious to what damage these kids are causing. It may be a sledgehammer to crack a nut and far from a cure-all but, in the absence of any other ideas, surely it is worth trying.

It could even prompt the good kids to influence the idiotic minority into behaving better, deprived of their hard-won freedoms.

Frankly, at a time of year when stretched police resources will be tested to the limit, the authorities do not need this distraction.

How Green Is Your Valley?


With housebuilding such a big issue currently, this piece on the BBC website – see here – may have slipped most people’s attention when published a few weeks ago.

It reminded me of the old Dad’s Army map showing the German advance. Now don’t get shirty and accuse me of comparing land grabbing, shafting house builders with the Nazis but look at all that open space – see here.

Dad’s Army

The developers will look to the leafier suburbs in direct contrast to the obvious need in Bradford for starter homes despite Big Phil’s assertion that our greenbelt is safe.

Happy Birthday The Idle Draper

The Idle Draper

A happy first birthday to Jim and the team at The Idle Draper, the village’s very first micro-pub. Revitalising a beautiful old building in keeping with the character of the village, the Draper has been a great addition to Idle.

Here’s to many more.

No Comment

Bradford has been named one of the most fertile places in the UK, according to new statistics. The Office for National Statistics recorded a rate of 2.21 children per mother in the district – making it seventh in the UK for fertility rates.

So ran this article in the T&A although it was not clear whether or not this was good news in the eyes of the journalist.

As comments from the public were also censored – sorry barred – we are left wondering I guess?

Good old free speech.

One Hundred Years Ago

A wonderful tale here from the weekly offering.

At a meeting of Baildon Council, discussion turned to dung… Cllr Wm Holmes said there was a request from several allotment holders that…the Council’s servants would leave the sweeping at convenient spare places near the various allotments.

Cllr Carroll though it absurd and Cllr J Ward Holmes jocularly suggested the advisability of appointing a Minister of Manure.

Moving swiftly on…

Get Your Clowncil Christmas Calendar Here

One of the stellar lights on our Council’s grandly named Executive – Cllr Alex Ross-Shaw (Regeneration, Planning and Transport Portfolio) – is never shy of a photo opportunity.

He must be either best mates with the local rag’s photographer or planning a calendar. So, as the year comes to an end, here are a few of my favourite poses from Hapless’s pet poodle.

Here’s one where he ponders why nobody shops at the top end of town any more despite the Council having had over a decade to plan for the impact of the opening of the new Broadway centre at the bottom end.

Strike a pose?

Or the middle bit for that matter.

Time for the glum look as 2,000 jobs head down the Stanningley bypass? Good job we built that cycle lane then.

A future career on the buses when he finally gets rumbled?

And finally, here’s the reflective, thoughful look.

In 2016 1,858 voted to elect the councillor – that’s roughly 0.5% of the electoral roll in the Bradford Metropolitan area.

This is what happens when you have a stupid number of councillors. Who said democracy was representative?

RIP Barry

White Bear

The Scruffy

The Scruffy sadly lost one it’s own last week as Barry, dad of our resident driving instructor Simmy, sadly passed away.

I can’t claim more than a passing knowledge of Barry and, whilst most of us knew he was ill, the fact that he still made The Scruffy as usual the Sunday before he passed, speaks of a brave man and one who lived life till the end.

Condolences to the irrepressible Simmy and his family. He turned up as ever last week, usual smile on his face, welcomed by all at this fantastic pub, warm slaps on the back, cold beers raised, life as ever flowing on.

Rest in peace Barry.

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