Blob Thing Crosses Some Bridges And Finds A Strawberry

Blob Thing says:

Well this is all very exciting isn't it?

Yes.  It is.  I assure you, promise you and guarantee to you with a promise of a full refund.  You're right of course about that being an empty guarantee.  You haven't paid any money to me to read my words.  None at all.  They're free.  On the house.  Gratis.  My gift to you, faithful readers and others who stumble across this page.

It is very exciting.  Today I will get to the end of telling you about our adventurous walk to Morpeth and about the surprise we found there.  But that's not the exciting thing.  Nope.  No siree.  Negativo.  Ignore the "negativo" because who would say something like that?  The exciting thing is that I am writing my blog somewhere new.  I've been here before of course.  I've even blogged about here before.  Remember that time when a dragon in a giraffe costume stole my "Autistic" badge?  That happened here.  Just in the next room.

Today I'm writing my blog inside the Literary and Philosophical Society Library.  We're currently in the Sir James Knott Room so you know where to find me.  We considered writing downstairs where there is a silent room but for today at least we're upstairs here among thousands of books.  Last time I was in this room we had come for a poetry reading and music performance that we came to mainly on the grounds that it was free.  This time we've come so I can write my blog.

But that's not the most exciting thing.  The most exciting thing is that my person has just done something that she has managed not to do ever since moving to Newcastle.  She has joined the library.  Exciting, isn't it?  It's part of her plan you see.  I just heard a train horn!  Twice!  She hasn't got much of a plan yet but she knows that it includes lots of writing.  LOTS of writing.  She knows she has some kind of a writing gift of course.  People have told her.  And she's started writing more this year, especially in the last few months.  Next year she wants to learn to write.  Develop some skill.  Learn how stories, non-fiction, poems, and every other type of writing actually work.  She wants to play with words, play with ideas, play with writing prompts, enthuse about the wonder of composing.  She is a writer.  She says so.  Therefore she is.  Next year she also might get to the point of entering a competition or two.  Or submitting some work.  She'll only do that if the composition process looks joyful though.

She also needs to learn about proof reading and editing.  Take the story that she published on her own blog a few days ago.  It's a Christmas story.  It's more than 15,000 words long.  We all know that a year ago she would not have been able to write such a story.  Personally I think it's pretty good but maybe I'm a bit biased on account of being her soft toy.  Maybe not.  Others have read it and the reaction has been good.  But it's not proof read.  It's not edited.  So there are lots of typing errors and little things that could do with tweaking.  What I say is that she should do the proof reading.  Do the tweaking.  Change the dates.  And then attempt to get it published somewhere for next Christmas.  That's what I say.  I'm just a small pink soft toy but sometimes I get ideas.

I'm in the Lit & Phil Library.  And my person is a member.  And she is a writer.  And she is as excited as I am about what she might find in 2017.  Today, on 22nd December 2016, next year is a mystery.  This year was a mystery too.  There have been surprises this year.  Lots of them.  Last year was too.  At least that's what my person says.  She hadn't expected to be diagnosed as autistic last year but that happened.  I wasn't alive for most of last year.  I was only created on the evening of December 31st.  So I didn't get to experience much of 2015.  This year has been a constant surprise for me and there is a vast amount I haven't been able to tell you about.

Like that day we walked to Morpeth.  We were nearly there.  Success almost guaranteed.  If you want to read about the rest of the walk you'll just have to read my other posts.  Some of what's there may surprise you.  Things did not turn out as planned when my foolish person attempted to take us through Bothal but they turned out well after many adventures and some time travel too.  Bothal is a safe place now.

On our walk into Morpeth along the course of the river Wansbeck there were only two more bridges to cross.  And then we would be there.  My person said that we deserved a rich reward when we arrived and that she might even treat us all to a pot of tea in a cafe.  And get this:  She said she might even buy a cake.  A cake!  My person said that!  She doesn't usually go so crazy.  All the memory wiping must have affected her in some way.

Here's the first bridge.  It's called the Morpeth East Bridge and the excellent bridges site tells me that it was constructed in unknown.  That's okay.  All I need to know is that it's a bridge and that I like bridges.  Don't I look wonderful carefully sitting on the metal rails at the side of the bridge?

Here I am again, sitting VERY carefully.  The view downstream is behind me.  I did have to be very careful because the gap between the two pieces of metal I'm sitting on was very nearly as wide as I am.  If I hadn't held on so tightly I might have been blown into the river by any passing gust of wind and that would have been my doom.  So I held on and held on and gripped as tightly as it's possible for any soft toy with no limbs to grip.  I was lucky.  I didn't fall into the river and the photo was worth all the unnecessary risks I took.

Here's a close up of me sitting in a similarly dangerous, precarious, spot that would make you hold your breath with suspense and terror if you had seen me in real life or in a movie.  Blob Thing:  Daredevil.  But unlike the fictional Daredevil I haven't got any special skills and I'm not a highly trained fighting machine.  It's true that Winefride and I did manage to hold back the stone sentinels of Bothal graveyard for a while but we wouldn't want to make a habit of such extraordinary escapades.

We walked on.  Further upstream.  Towards the land of Morpeth.  Until we arrived at our final bridge of the day.  A pretty footbridge.  This is the Stobsford Footbridge.  It's called that because it's a footbridge.  It's by a ford.  And it's the Stob.  No, I don't know why it's called Stob.  The bridge was placed over the ford in 1931.  The faithful bridges site says so.  But it wasn't originally placed there.  It got moved.  By people.  Not by a storm.  It was originally sited at the bottom of Curly Kews.  Honest.  I'm not making that name up.  Curly Kews.  The local paper speaks of a "shocking scene" on Curly Kews this year.  There was a collision on the road.  A one vehicle collision.  A police car collided with some railings.  In Morpeth that is enough to qualify as a "shocking scene."  I guess that hundreds of people would have had to be hospitalised with the shock of seeing such a sight.  Shocking.  My person is shocking too!  Earlier this year, probably on a similar date to the Curly Kews incident, a woman in the market looked my person up and down and angrily said, "Shocking!"  I think that woman had to be hospitalised too and is possibly still in a maximum security psychiatric ward.

Here I am, in glorious sunshine, by the Stobsford Bridge.  I understand that in the town this is known as the green bridge.  Even though it's blue.  A woman is just to the left of us making noises under her breath as she looks at books on a shelf.  Maybe she's autistic too.  Maybe she just likes making noises.  Maybe she can't help it and has funny lungs.  Maybe in future we'll sit in the silent room downstairs.  I just think the light is better upstairs.  It includes a bit of natural light.  I must admit I wish that Newcastle had the reading room we liked so much in Manchester.  We would almost have lived there.  She's still there.  The books on those shelves are all about the Second World War.  I think my creator might like some of them.  Titles like "Holocaust Journey".

You can hardly see me in this picture.  I do like bridges.  Next year I want to see lots more of them.  Lots more.  And I'll pester my person regularly if she doesn't take me places to see them.

And so we arrived in Morpeth.  My person told Winefride and me that we would be going to a cafe.  If we could find one suitable for sitting in quietly with a nice pot of tea.  We liked the cafe we found in Manchester last week.  But I've said that before.  I wonder whether there's anything that crazy in Morpeth.  I do like pots of tea.  If they're filled with nice tea.

We walked into Morpeth.  Tired.  Thirsty.  Sun-beaten.  Drained from the Battle of Bothal.  In desperate need of refreshment before seeking transport back to the citadel of Newcastle.  We hoped that somewhere we might find a place that would welcome three weary adventurers with open arms and provide some refuge from all we had witnessed.

We hoped.  We dreamed.  We fantasised about tea.  I hoped the tea wouldn't cost too much or my person would probably renege on her promise and drag us away from the cafe with the words, "It's too much.  Let's just buy a large bottle of milk and drink from that instead."  My creator taught her that trick.  In many ways it's a good trick.  Why should my person pay a pound for half a litre of a sugar drink filled with flavourings and caffeine and colouring - that perhaps necessary evil entitled Coca-Cola - when she could buy two whole litres of milk instead?  A good trick but, I hate to say it, a trick that could take us away from our cafe experiences.

We hoped.  But we couldn't have hoped for or expected to see a sign like this:

All welcome.  Even three footsore wanderers with slightly muddy shoes.  Only my person's shoes were slightly muddy.  My shoes and Winefride's shoes weren't muddy at all.  Because we don't have any shoes.  I wonder whether my person will ever borrow books from this library.  It's not as if she needs any more.  On the other hand the library might have some books that would help her in her writing.  I noticed several written by the Opies and they're all good for finding ideas.  All welcome.

Not only that.  Another smaller sign told us the admission cost.  Free.  Absolutely free.  No charge.

A miracle!

These last two pictures from an amazing day show Winefride, my wonderful sister, and me.  We're sitting with a big mug of tea.  Not a pot.  And we're sitting with a big bowl of strawberries and some home-made shortbread too.

Music was playing from a local little orchestra and we sat in the sunshine outside the United Reformed Church and felt very blessed indeed by the entire situation.

You couldn't beat this.  It was better than going to a cafe.  And there wasn't any chance of my person complaining about the cost and dragging us away.  Thank you church people for the miracle.

That's the end of my account of that day.  Thank you for living it with me vicariously through my words.

Oh, that person who was making the noises moved on about sixty seconds ago.  I think she's going to borrow the book that stood between "The Secret World" by Hugh Trevor-Roper and "Crusade in Europe" by Eisenhowe.  My person says she would have read a book by Hugh Trevor-Roper in college but didn't because she had to completely reorganise her course and provide a new curriculum.  So she didn't ever read what he had to say about Archbishop William Laud, a man who wasn't lauded by his many enemies.  I wonder if he said more sensible things about Laud or about The Secret World than he did about the fake diaries of Hitler.  Probably I will never know.  That's okay.  There are much more important things to know.



[2160 words]

Blob Thing Encounters A Rather Too Friendly Piece of Fruit

Blob Thing says:

Today I'm going to talk about the rest of my day out in Bradford.  I tried to do that a couple of days ago but got very sidetracked by those Snowdogs.  Today I'm determined to say what I meant to say then.

It's a strange day today.  Winefride and I have accompanied my person to go and see my creator.  But my creator is a very busy person and today we've got to not be with her and we're not even allowed to be in her house for various strange insurance and health and safety reasons.  So we've come out into the centre of Manchester in search of somewhere quiet.  And we've succeeded too.

Winefride and I have come to Manchester Central Library and we've come upstairs to a very large room.  It's a circle room and in the ceiling is a big circular glass window.  Around the outside are lots and lots of old magazines and journals in bound volumes.  To the right of our seat we can see shelves containing Policy Studies which doesn't sound very interesting and Political Quarterly which might be very dull indeed depending on who wrote all of the volumes.  We can also see three whole shelves of books that are called Poetry.  That sounds more interesting to me.

I think my person should read more poetry.  She bought a wonderful anthology recently and I've been reading some of it out loud when she's been somewhere else.  The words sound really good when I say them.  I'm trying to encourage my person to read that book because it is amazing.  My person has some other books of poems too.  Some are old and long poems by people with names like Dante.  Some are newer and include the poems of Maya Angelou and Audré Lorde.  Has she read them?  No she hasn't.  And I think she should get on with it.  My person has lots of books that she hasn't read and if she didn't buy any more and just read the ones she has already got then she would still be reading them by next week.  Not only that.  She still wouldn't have finished by next decade.  But she keeps buying more books anyway.  Two books she bought in the last week are in her bag even though she hadn't finished the previous books in her bag.  My person can be very strange.

So here are the three of us, Winefride, my person and myself, sitting i the quiet of the Wolfson reading room in Manchester.  It's very nice indeed.  I hope nobody is too perturbed by the sound of the laptop keys as my person types the words I say.  I like my person.  She types my blog for me and even carries on typing when I say embarrassing things about her.  Maybe that's very strange too.

We had a good day in Bradford.  After meeting Pikachu we had a walk round the city.  Nearly half the city seemed to be uphill.  And nearly half seemed to be downhill.  There wasn't a lot of flat.  But there was one flat piece and we liked that a lot.  It had lots of water fountains and my person played in them as much as she could.  She had to protect Winefride and me because otherwise we would have got very wet and would still have been soaking at the end of the day.

The best thing in the fountains was a tunnel.  Water jetted out of the ground on one side and formed an arch before falling back on the other side.  And so it formed a tunnel with the sides and roof being flowing water.  It was amazing.  We all screeched with laughter and joy and we walked through it lots of times and people stared at us all for having so much fun.

By the end of the day it was even better.  The sun had gone down and so it was dark.  And in the darkness there were lots of lights in the fountains and they were very beautiful to look at.  The best thing was that my person had a balloon from lunchtime and she placed that directly over one of the lit up fountains and the lights underneath the balloon kept changing colour.  The entire balloon became a marvellous light show.  It was spectacular.  Here's that tunnel.  We loved it.

Later we went for lunch and by that time we had been joined by my creator too.  Table for four please.  But they were mean in the restaurant and they wouldn't give us a table for four even though there were four of us.  They seemed to think that their table system only applied to human customers not soft toy customers.  That wasn't fair.  Don't we count as people?

But we had to put up with this sorry situation and we all enjoyed eating our pizza and our salad.  Afterwards my creator helped me to do some colouring in from the children's menu and we used the special crayons with the pizza name on them.  Winefride didn't do any colouring in but she did do a drawing of herself.  My sister is amazing.  I didn't know that she was so good at using crayons or that she could draw herself.  I think we will have to let her use paper and crayons again and see what she can create.

You can see my colouring here and you can see that Winefride's picture is there.  She even drew her reins and then tied herself to that person's beak.  Sorry the paper is a bit crumpled.  That's my person's fault.  She put our work into her bag and wasn't careful enough with it.

But then Winefride started to get a bit bored.  That's okay.  She decided that it would be much more fun to try eating the crayons than to draw with them.  I'm not sure about the taste of crayons but they're not poisonous so she wasn't in any danger.  Yesterday evening we heard about an autistic boy who liked chewing Blu-Tack.  My person said that when she heard that the taste of Blu-Tack came to her very, very strongly.  But who hasn't ever chewed on Blu-Tack?  Me and Winefride, that's who.  Here's a picture of us.  I was still busy colouring.  I stopped for the photo which is why it looks like my blue crayon is colouring in orange.  Winefride was away in a world of her own with her crayons.  I think she was only sucking on them not chewing on them.  She certainly seemed to enjoy it.

And then the four of us went for a walk in Bradford, looking for charity shops.  There was a very special shop where the books didn't cost anything at all.  In other shops my person bought things and then she did a totally silly thing and left all her purchases in a cafe before we went home.  She can be very silly and forgetful sometimes.  All day long she was carrying some special sweets to share with my creator.  She forgot about them too.  And you wouldn't believe how often she forgets things at home because she's got so completely focused on something else.  It happens all the time and fortunately most of the time she can laugh at herself and fortunately she hasn't done anything so silly that the house has burned to the ground or been burgled.

Sometimes making a cup of tea and drinking it can take hours because there are so many stages at which the process can be completely forgotten.  She can forget to switch the kettle on, forget to close the kettle lid, forget that she's switched the kettle on, forget that she's poured water on a tea bag, and even after the tea is made she can forget it exists.  She's silly.  And if she is meant to do something in addition to tea making there's a high chance it won't happen.  My person is silly.  I think it's probably part of her being autistic and so getting hyper-focused on things to the exclusion of everything else.  I think so.

We went into a Chinese supermarket.  It had a little cafe and some of the cake was reduced to a cheap price so we all share some Chinese cakes.  They also sold buns a bit like the ones in the bun shop in Newcastle.  The cakes were delicious.  Then we walked round the supermarket.  Everything was pretty normal until I heard a voice.

"Hello pink thing."

I looked around and I couldn't see anyone.  I guessed the voice was talking to me because I am pink.  But I couldn't see anyone.  Maybe I was imagining it.  Maybe it was the voice of God and he would send me on a mission to take lots of awesomeness to the world.  Then it spoke again.

"Hello pink thing, who are you?  I'm down here on the shelf."

I looked down and saw, to my surprise, that a piece of fruit was speaking to me.  That's not something that I've ever experienced before.  I climbed down from my person's shoulder where I had been sitting and onto the shelf to talk to the piece of fruit.

We had a long conversation about what it's like to be a very fortunate and adventurous blob soft toy and what it's like to be a piece of fruit.  I felt a bit sorry for the piece of fruit because it's fate was to be bought by someone and then eaten.  Or not bought and then thrown away.  Whereas my fate is to keep having lots of adventures.

Before parting we had a big hug.  It seemed to be a nice piece of fruit.  I hope this picture will be in my blog.  It's not showing on my screen.

But then the piece of fruit got a lot more friendly than I would have liked.  I was glad that I would never see it again and I stopped feeling sorry for it.  The actions of the fruit were videoed and you can judge for yourself how inappropriate it all was.

Well I was glad to get away and glad afterwards when we went to that cafe where my person forgot her purchases.  She did well.  She didn't melt about it and just accepted that all the things were lost.  She probably wouldn't have read the book anyway.  It would have joined all the other unread books.

So that's about it for Bradford.  We had a long journey home and only the first train was full of very drunk football fans.  And that one wasn't a very long journey.  We got home very tired and Winefride and I were soon fast asleep dreaming about all the things we might get up to the next day.  Would it be a home day?  Would I be able to read more of that poetry book and would Winefride do some drawing?  Or would we be taken out on another big adventure.  A Sunday kind of adventure.  It turned out that we would have both.  We spent the morning at home.  And then in the afternoon we went to a cinema and then got lost on the Metro.  Because my person was silly.  Again.  She got on the wrong train.  Forgot it was the wrong train.  And forgot to get off it where she needed to.  My person can be very silly.

Blob Thing Remembers Happy Times Of Friends, Sunshine and Tea In Southport

Blob Thing says:

My person doesn't seem to be very happy this morning.  I think it's got something to do with that nasty Mr. Trump.  She says that Mr. Trump has said lots of stupid things.  She says that Mr. Trump has said lots of mean things too.  About disabled people.  About black people.  About women.  About people of other religions.  About almost anyone who isn't like him.  My person doesn't like Mr. Trump much and I have to say that I haven't seen much to make me like him.  But my person says that a lot of people seem to like Mr. Trump even though he has said so many horrible things about so many people.  My person says that horrid Mr. Trump has just won some kind of popularity contest and now he's going to be given lots of power and will even be given a button that he can press if he wants to blow up the world.  I think that's what my person means.

My person seems upset by it all.  I've told her not to worry and that we can go out and have a nice day anyway and hunt for some more snowdogs.  Yesterday she took Winefride and me out and we saw lots of dogs.  We saw nine that we haven't seen before.  We would have seen ten but one was missing and we were so sad that Winefride and I cried lots about it and it was only when my person told us that we would go on a boat and then go and see some more dogs that we cheered up.  It's sad that there's a missing dog.  Tomorrow we might see where there used to be another dog and that one's missing too.  My person says that there were 61 big dogs altogether but that we will only be able to see 58 of them.  There are lots of little dogs too.  And yesterday I was really very pleased because I was able to introduce Winefride to one of my old friends, the Herma Merma Dragora.  She was a bit scared to begin with because the Herma Merma Dragora looks quite fierce but she soon relaxed.  He's obviously still working very hard at his job because the sea ogre from Cleveleys hasn't paid a visit and destroyed South Shields.

Today I want to tell you about a happier time.  The only thing that could have made it happier for me was if I had been able to share it with Winefride.  But she hadn't been created then.  It was a very long time ago.

It was a day of friendship.  A day of sunshine.  A day to relax and to smile.  I smile all the time.  I can't help it because I'm a pretty happy person except when my person forgets to take me out or when a snowdog is missing.  I also can't help it because my smile is sewn onto my face.  But sometimes I smile more.  And it's obvious from the pictures.

We were in Southport and were having a good time.  It was the day I sat in the shoe of a giant too.  Exciting.  We went into a shop and it was there that I found lots and lots of friends to play with and it was such fun to see them smile and to watch how they could all move all by themselves even though they are toys.  Some of them were so funny and I laughed a lot and my creator laughed and my person smiled.

I think my creator wanted to take all of the new friends home with us and I wouldn't have minded that at all.  They were all quite lovely and it was a pleasure to meet them all.  Unfortunately a person said that we would have to pay lots of money for each friend we wanted to take home.  So we could only afford to choose one friend.  Who to save?  Who to save?  Eventually the decision was made and my creator said we would take an elephant with us.  I hope all those other friends are okay and that they looked after each other well.  I will probably never see them again but meeting them was a joy.

We walked on from the shops and we found a place to drink tea.  We all needed some tea.  It was very nice because we sat outside and the weather was lovely and there was a field and I was very happy with the whole experience.  Here I am posing with the tea and my new elephant friend.  In the background you can just make out my creator.  My person took quite a lot of pictures of my creator that day and in some of them you can see pure joy on her face and it's wonderful.  Especially in the pictures taken on the beach.  I'll be telling you about that in my next post.

After our drinks of tea we all left the cafe and we went to the field and we sat on the grass.  And then we lay down and looked at the sky and it was very beautiful.  My person says that there is beauty in the world no matter who wins an election.  I hope we find some of that beauty today.  She needs to smile more and laugh more and be silly more.  Silly in a good way.

We took lots of sky pictures that day.  My person likes the sky.  Sometimes she sees all the colours of the rainbow even on a cloudy day and sees rays of coloured light coming from the sky and hitting the ground.  I think she might just be imagining it or that she's just being strange but she seems to enjoy it when it happens and sometimes she gets a bit happily lost staring at the dark clouds.  I prefer it when it's sunny.  But clouds can be very pretty too and on that day the sky was beautiful.

We sat in the field and we blew bubbles with our bubble guns and we lay back and there was peace inside us.  I recommend it.  Sitting or lying back in a field on a sunny day and just being at peace.  Just be there.  In that moment.  Forget about Mr. Trump.  Forget about all the hard things of life.  Let them go.  And just be.  With the grasses.  With the sky.  With the warmth.  With the sound of a child's laughter as they run around with a borrowed bubble gun.  Just be.  My person doesn't just be enough.  She lets thoughts run wild and gets caught up in things even when there's really nothing to get caught up in.  She's learning though.  And I am teaching her.

One last photo of me.  I was very happy indeed.  I'll tell you about the rest of the day next time.

There will be more days like this.  No matter what happens in the world - unless Mr. Trump ever decides to press that button - there will be plants and sunshine and clouds and light and shade and bubbles and friendship.  Someone wrote this morning that the world has just got darker.  Maybe so, but there is still light and warmth and the sea and snowdogs and there are still lots of people who seek to walk in that light.


[1232 words]

Blob Thing Goes Hospital Visiting In A Week That Was Not As Planned

Blob Thing says:

This is my one hundredth blog post.  Isn't that amazing?  My one hundredth blog post was meant to be a big celebration.  A massive party in honour of me!  And of Winefride too.  It's important to honour her because my sister is amazing.

But life doesn't always work out as planned.  My person was going to help me with this post at the weekend and now it's the end of the week.  So this is my post and it's not a joyful celebration of me.  Because things happened and my person didn't manage to find the time or the energy for my blog.

On Saturday my life was being very good.  I went out with Winefride and my person to meet up with a friend we all knew from Autscape.  We went to the Literary and Philosophical Library and I tried not to have flashbacks of my last visit there - the one in which a dragon dressed up as a giraffe stole my Autistic badge when I fell asleep.  My person helped me write a blog post about that.  We went to a very good photographic gallery.  And we sat in Super Natural cafe for ages.  During the day this photograph was taken.  It was an accidental screenshot.  Sometimes very exciting photos happen when accidental screenshots happen on the phone.  Sometimes very boring ones happen too.  This is one of the best.  Don't worry.  The vampire bunny didn't manage to bite me.  I have not become a blood sucking small pink soft toy.

Everything was very happy.  But that changed.

On our way home we learned that my person's wife had suffered an accident.  She was at the hospital being checked out.  That was on Saturday.  It's now Friday and she is still there.  She fractured her spine.  So my life this week hasn't included writing happy blog posts.  My person might have been able to find the time for them but she didn't have the mental energy to help me.

Today she's agreed to help me and I'm going to share some photos from my week.  It hasn't all been bad.  I've had some fun too.  And my person's wife is going to be okay which is a big relief to everyone.  Winefride and I have been hospital visiting every day too.  Here we are in one of the wards of the Royal Victoria Infirmary in Newcastle - a place where the staff are all doing a wonderful job looking after my person's wife.

My person has taken quite a few photos of the prettier part of the hospital.  On one day we had some food in the cafe.  We might have some more later today.  The cafe is in the prettier part, which also houses the Great Northern Children's Hospital.

Here I am sitting on a ledge by our table.

And here's a view from a walkway we use on our way to the ward.

It's a very nice place even though it's a hospital.  But from there we have to walk through a very long corridor to get to the ward.  Maybe this afternoon, if the weather is fine, my person can go to the hospital a different way and avoid the corridor.  Maybe we can also go and see some ducks in a nearby park too.  I'd like that.  I like ducks.  I had an adventure with some geese once and I'll tell you about that one day.  They didn't think our pea snacks were tasty but we didn't have any proper goose food and they were all very insistent about being fed.  There were dozens of them gathered around us.  I have to admit that I didn't like the pea snacks either.  I don't think my person was that keen either because she didn't eat all of them.

It's not all been hospitals this week.  Not for me.  It's all been hospitals for my person's wife though.  She hasn't left the hospital yet.  She hasn't even been able to visit the pretty part of the hospital.  And she has had a lot of pain.  It's all been very worrying.

My person has also been able to give me a few adventures.  Little ones, but for me a little adventure is better than no adventure.  Here I am with Winefride.  This amazing creature is on a wall in central Newcastle.  It was very friendly and told us a very interesting story about its place in the history of the city and about how it came to have such a fabulous tale.  Gosh, it was a brilliant story teller.

Here we are again.  We're back at Super Natural cafe.  I thought the books were quite interesting.  Mr. Hitchens made some very good points in his book but sometimes spoiled them by using some very mean insults that I don't think were called for.  We've only just started Mr. Holloway's book.  He seems a lot more calm about the whole thing than Mr. Hitchens.  We've been enjoying Mr. Hitchens though.  Well I have.  Winefride hasn't.  She doesn't want to sit there and have our person read big books to her.  Why would she?  Sometimes I think that she's far more sensible than both of us and that her priorities are far more what life should be about.  She's amazing and so full of joy and love and excitement.  I love my sister.  But my person is still a little obsessive in her thinking about God things and I've picked up some of that too.  I spend quite a bit of time in rooms that contain a lot of God books and I read some of them.  But Winefride can't read.  She can't talk either.  Or she doesn't talk.  It's hard to know which.  But she can laugh and smile and let out big whoops when she's excited.  She's amazing.

Here I am a few days ago.  We went to Whitley Bay.  My person knew that the Amazon delivery person was somewhere in the street just now and she was right.  She couldn't see him but could hear the bass of the music coming from his car.  That Amazon delivery person has a particular tone of bass noise coming from his car.  Sorry for that sidetrack.  The Amazon person has gone now.  Yes, we went to Whitley Bay.  Just a quick visit to help my person stay calm by doing something other than being at home or at hospital.  We visited the charity shops.  All we bought was that book by Mr. Holloway and a book containing the Dhammapada with a commentary on all the words and their meanings and how they all fit in with Buddhist philosophy and practice.  I did say my person was still a bit obsessed with God type things.  She probably always will be, no matter what she decides to believe in ten years time.  I am going to enjoy watching her continuing to grow in the ability to be lost in wonder at the things around her.

So that's my one hundredth blog post.  It's not what I wanted it to be.  But that's okay.  I can have a big celebration of the wonders of my life at another time.  When my person started this blog she was just going to share a photo of me and say where I was when it was taken.  She didn't expect that I would find my own voice.  I am very happy with the way it turned out.




[1246 words]

Blob Thing Drinks Tea In the Literary and Philosophical Society Library

Blob Thing and his person were wandering in Newcastle city centre.  They had successfully completed at least one of the jobs they had to do that day and for Blob's person that was enough.  She was tired and the streets were noisy with sound, movement, light and smell and it was all getting to be too much.  But Blob didn't want to go home just yet.  He wanted adventures.  He wanted to see something new.  Or at least to go somewhere quiet where he could share a drink with his person.  He told her that a quiet cafe would be just the thing and that it would help both of them - because Blob was getting a bit overwhelmed too but didn't quite want to admit it.  Blob's person agreed.  As long as they could go to a cafe with at least some natural light.  With no music playing.  And with a comfy chair.  She decided that they could go and see whether the refectory in St. Nicholas Cathedral was quiet that day.  Maybe there would be space on the sofas at the end of the room.  That would be good.  If the refectory was too much then they could sit together for a while in the cathedral and that would be good too.

Blob Thing was pleased with that.  He had never been to the cathedral before.  He hadn't liked Durham cathedral because he couldn't have pictures of himself taken there.  His person assured him that it wouldn't be a problem in Newcastle.  No stern looking man in robes would swoop down upon him and tell him off.  Blob liked the sound of Newcastle Anglican Cathedral.  Blob's person also told him that if they did see any of the staff members there then it was okay because they were all very friendly.

To the cathedral.  A fine idea.  Maybe Blob and his person would calm enough that they could get at least two of their jobs done that day.

But then Blob's person changed her plans.  Suddenly.  Without warning.  Blob got a bit anxious about that be she assured him that her new plan was just as good.  She said that Blob would enjoy himself with the new plan and have quite an adventure.  They might even drink tea in a place where she had never drunk tea before.  The pair stopped outside a big doorway and on the wall was a sign saying "Literary And Philosophical Library."  A library.  Blob likes books.  But he wasn't sure that he would be able to have "quite an adventure" in one.  He might look at a book but Blob Thing isn't a member of any library and he doesn't think that most libraries would allow him to join.  He doesn't have any official forms of identification and most libraries say you need them in order to borrow a book.  Blob's person said it was okay.

Then she confused Blob a little more.  She said that she wasn't a member of his library.  It cost money to join and she hasn't got much of that and doesn't know whether she would use the library enough to make it worthwhile.  With hundreds of unread books and unlistened CDs at home it would be unlikely that she would borrow piles of books.  She would quite like to join one day though.  Blob thought all this was very strange.  Why would his person be taking him into a library when they couldn't even borrow books?  Very strange indeed.

His person assured him firmly.  This would be "quite an adventure."  She promised him that he would enjoy himself and would probably want to go back.  [Blob's person wants to go back.  It would be a pleasing place to sit and read and write and make notes and play with pieces of paper in an effort to write something more substantial or of higher quality than Blob's blog.]  Blob is shocked.  How could his person have said anything like that?  His blog is amazing.  At least he thinks so.  It's unique too.  What other person from his species has a blog?  Nobody.  [Ah yes, but that's not a fair question is it Blob?  There are only two people in your entire species, you and Winefride, and she hasn't got a blog and can't communicate enough to be able to write one.  It would have to be written entirely for her, a photo and a description.  That would be okay though.  That's what your blog was meant to be before you took over.]  Blob admits the question wasn't fair.  But he still thinks his blog is amazing.

The pair walked up the steps and through the door and into a very impressive entrance hall filled with portraits of people, statues and a grand staircase.  This was a library?  What kind of library could this be?  Blob's person said that it wasn't quite like the main city library they go to sometimes.  It was a little bit like the library he visited in Manchester - in an adventure he hasn't yet told you about.  That was an amazing day.  He saw the library, those sheep he talked about in a recent post, a long walk by a canal, bridges, a very posh place for drinking, an amazing building containing a war museum, and even a visit to the actual Blue Peter garden, which is much smaller than you probably think.

At the top of the stairs Blob stopped for a photo.  This hall was amazing and he wondered who all the people were, why they were all men not women or non-binary gender people, and whether if he was better at magic he could draw them all out of the paintings and they could enjoy a tea party or go and eat ice cream by the sea or perhaps they would all write a guest post for Blob's blog.  It would be excellent if Blob and that man in uniform could write a post together about an adventure in a sea battle.

And then Blob walked through the door into the main library.  His mouth opened wide with amazement.  Yes, it can do that.  There's just no photographic evidence because Blob likes to smile his best smile for photos.  The Literary and Philosophical Society Library was truly a place where adventures might happen.  Blob Thing wondered why he had never been to this place before.  It was truly a marvel.  Marvellous enough for a blog post.  Marvellous enough for three of them.  All those books.  All those shelves.  Blob got quite excited by it all.  You can possibly tell from his face here.

Blob Thing made his way further down the library and kept gasping at the sight.  This was worth it.  But would the toilet be as ancient as the one they found in the Manchester library?  Could anything be quite that ancient?  [Yes Blob something could.  Remember that piece of papyrus you saw in Manchester, the oldest surviving piece of the New Testament in the world.  That was much more ancient than the toilet.  Now get on with talking about the Lit and Phil.]

This place was amazing.  Blob wanted to see it all.  He wanted to jump about and climb to the very tops of the shelves on the upper floor and see what the books were.  Some of them looked very old indeed and he thought they would probably smell amazing.  Ooh yes, he would love to take those books, open them, get in close and take in deep breaths and inhale the gorgeous scents of the different papers.  He would love to feel the surface of the paper if it wasn't quite flat and press himself against the page edges and fall into the experience.  Blob wants to go back and do that.  His person says they can do it but only if he is very careful not to damage any of the pages when pressing against them.

And there at the end of the room, near the entrance to another big room, was a place to get tea.  There was even someone there to make it for them.  The people said to help themselves to biscuits too and to have however many they wanted.  It was lovely.  This was a place with no music playing.  It was a place with lots and lots of natural light from above.  And it was a place with somewhere comfy to sit.

Blob Thing was very happy that he hadn't gone to the cathedral that day.  He decided he wanted to visit it sometime - and he has visited it since and had a good time.  But for that day, the Lit and Phil had been a superb choice.  Well done my person!

What an amazing place for a cup of tea.  Blob wants to drink more tea there and wants his person to go and sit and write there.  Maybe eventually she will go there so much that she joins the library.  She says that lots of events happen there and Blob could even go and learn about the art of bookbinding.  For that first visit though, a cup of tea was sufficient.  And three biscuits.  Blob suspects his person actually wanted more than three biscuits.  He thinks she would have wanted an entire packet.  He suspects that three was the maximum number of biscuits she judged to be polite.

Blob and his person felt a lot better.  This was a fine place and by the end of the cup of tea they didn't feel so overwhelmed.  Perhaps they would manage to get a second job done.  Maybe even a third if things went really well.  How could anyone fail to feel better with a cup of tea and when surrounded with books in a gorgeous building?

They would go back out into the city.  Into the maelstrom of different sensory noises.  The energy gained from the library would make it possible.  But first Blob thing wanted to explore some more.  He found himself an adventure in the adventure library.  Today he hasn't got time to talk about it so that will have to wait until his next post.  And then he plans another post with pictures of himself walking round the library and in that post he wants to talk a little bit about the library itself.  What it is, why it is, why it has such a long name, and the astounding connection between the library and light bulbs.



[1745 words]

Blob Thing Enjoys Impossible Food At Super Natural Cafe

A quick post this morning.  We hope.  Blob will almost miss the thrill of telling you about his refugee walk.  Today he wants to tell you about a day that was much less exciting and on which he didn't make friends with any unique mythological creatures or become a lifeguard.

Blob's person was going out for a few hours and although she was only going into town he wanted to come.  Sometimes there are adventures there too.  There was that day on which he drank tea and met friends in the Literary and Philosophical Library.  There was that day on which he rang the bells of St. Andrew's church.  Even in the centre of Newcastle there are adventures for Blob to have.  This day would be one of them.  It just wouldn't involve the Herma Merma Dragora or lunch at a lighthouse.

Blob's person had an important job to do when she got to town.  She regularly has her eyebrows waxed.  Blob thinks for most people who do the same thing it's a meaningless custom.  He thinks that most people should just be satisfied with the eyebrows they have and not fall into societal pressures that say a certain kind of eyebrow is better than another kind or to think they look far better because their eyebrows are now a shape dictated by fashion, a shape that often doesn't look natural at all.  He thinks that the idea that your eyebrows should be a certain colour - even when that colour looks strange because it doesn't match the hair on the top of your head at all - is an odd idea.  He thinks women and men and non-binary people can do whatever they want with their eyebrows.  But he hopes that they are all doing it for themselves, as self expression and that there is no taint of doing it out of societal pressure or fashion or anything else.

That's what Blob thinks about it all.  He doesn't understand fashion and he doesn't understand dressing like everyone else and he doesn't understand how people think they are improved by having their eyebrows ripped out or dyed or by having fake eyelashes bolted onto their faces.  But if that's what makes people happy then Blob's fine with it.  They're not hurting anyone - except themselves when their hair is ripped from their faces.

Blob doesn't understand.  He'll never be a follower of fashion or listen to other people telling him what style means.  He has his dress.   If people like it, great.  If they don't then Blob doesn't care.  One man got very worried indeed that anyone would ever possess such material let alone have it made into a dress.  He was quite insulting in the way he talked about Blob Thing's clothes.  He insulted Blob's creator too and Blob's person was not happy at all about that.  But another person said she was quite jealous of Blob's dress and that she wanted one just like it.  Blob likes his dress a lot and knows that the colour suits him very well.  He likes Winefride's dress too and thinks her clothes are beautiful.

Blob hasn't got any eyebrows but his person does have her eyebrows waxed.  It's not a fashion thing with her.  It's different.  If she doesn't get the job done then her eyebrows go crazy.  She looks like she could be a perfect werewolf.  She looks like a male werewolf.  And she gets stared at even more than usual and gets comments about her appearance.  Perhaps she shouldn't care in the slightest about that.  But a fact is a fact.  Eyebrow waxing makes her life as a woman easier.  She doesn't wear make up. She doesn't "pass better" that way but she does "pass better" through the waxing.  It's a simple matter.  Eyebrow waxing changes the way people treat her and look at her.  And it's not a major burden for her life.  It's still something she wonders about.  Blob's person has a motto that she says sometimes.  "F*** Passing!"  But in the waxing - and in the electrolysis too - one of the aims is to pass better.  Perhaps she doesn't F*** passing as well as she says.

So Blob went to the salon with his person.  Here it is.  Blob was patiently waiting with her at this point.  It wasn't a long wait.

 

Lots of people are there in the background having their fingernails made prettier.  Blob's person likes pretty nails but she hasn't ever spent money having someone make them pretty for her.  It's a very popular way of spending money though and new shops selling pretty nails open in Newcastle regularly.  Blob's person rarely makes her nails pretty even though she likes pretty nails.  It takes lots of time to do and she can't be bothered with it most of the time.

Soon it was time for Blob's person to be waxed.  Blob came too.  A woman painted wax on her face, covered it with some kind of special paper.  And pulled.  There was a loud ripping sound.  But no reaction from Blob's person.  She didn't seem to mind the pain.  Blob's person didn't even twitch a muscle.  Blob thought that he might have had to look after her like he does in electrolysis appointments.  But no.  He wasn't needed at all.

Blob and his person left the eyebrow waxing shop.  It was close to lunchtime and they were getting a bit hungry.  And so they returned to the cafe they had visited a couple of days previously.  Super Natural Cafe on Grainger Street.  This time they would have lunch.

Here is that lunch:

It's very impressive.  It was a plain jacket potato topped up with lots of good and simple food from the salad bar at the cafe.  Blob's person thought it was very excellent and Blob could only agree with that.  There would be more than enough for Blob and his person to share and they would have to be a bit greedy to get through it all.

It was also very good value for money and Blob decided that they should return to Super Natural regularly and eat baked potatoes and all those simple salads.  They might even add something green to the plate one day.  A very good idea.  It's a nice cafe and the salad bar raised it above nearly every other cafe in Newcastle in the eyes of Blob.

You can see just how much Blob was excited by the meal in that photo.  You will also notice that it's a different meal.  Yes.  You spotted it.  That photo was taken on another day.  Blob's person had enjoyed the food so much that she went back again.  It certainly was an impressive way to eat.

On the eyebrow day, Blob Thing and his person sat with some philosophers to eat the food.  They happened to be in the cafe and she knew some of them from a long time ago when she used to go to some philosophy groups with them.  She never coped well with the groups.  She would sit in silence, unable to speak in such an environment because she doesn't really understand how the social rules in groups of people work.  And she would struggle with the conversations the people would have - often attacking each other verbally.  Blob knows that Socratic dialogue needs to challenge views but he doesn't think it needs to be so aggressive.

That day Blob's person sat and talked with one of the philosophers.  That's the only way she can do groups.  Corner one or two people.  Extract them from the group.  And then talk only with them.  Sometimes (often) that's a struggle too.  After lunch she got up to go and said farewell to the friendly philosopher.  Philosophy makes Blob's person very tired indeed and she was glad not to have joined the group properly.  They seemed to be saying much the same things they had been saying three years earlier.  But maybe that's how all groups of people are.

And then, as she headed for the door to escape philosophy, someone called out to her.

"Hey, Blob's person."  That someone didn't actually say that.  She used Blob's person's name.  Nobody greets her as Blob's person.  Blob thinks that would be a strange thing to do.

The person was someone she knew from the Sunday Assembly and from the gratitude group of which they are both members.  Blob's person was brave.  She agreed to go and sit with the someone and with two friends of the someone who Blob's person had never met before.  Blob Thing was pleased.  It meant he could sit and look at this picture of a cat that was hanging on the wall.

The four people sat and talked.  It got noisier in the cafe.  Blob's person was just about coping but Blob was getting very overwhelmed.  So he asked whether he could wear his person's noise cancelling headphones for a while.  In truth, she was wanting to wear them but in most social situations it's not quite acceptable to stick headphones on and intentionally not be able to hear everyone.

Then someone suggested a fantasmogorical suggestion:

Cake cake cake!

Blob likes cake.  And the cakes at Super Natural are quite special.  Blob was overjoyed because his person agreed to stay for cake.  Here's Blob Thing and the cake.  He had already shared some of it with his person and it was quite delicious.

After eating cake, everyone was satisfied.  It was time for Blob and his person to go home.  They hadn't met any mythological creatures.  They hadn't played in a play area.  They hadn't been on a ship or ridden on the back of a turtle.  But it had been a good day.

Blob Thing said that they should return to Super Natural regularly and eat baked potatoes and the fabulous foods on the simple but wonderful salad bar.

A few days later they returned to the cafe.  They were greatly looking forward to it.  And that's where it all went wrong.

The cafe had decided to take away the salad bar.

Instead of all that wonderful simple food the baked potato - which had gone up in price - would be served with a lettuce leaf, a dollop of coleslaw, and a few crisps.

Boring, boring, BORING!

The salad bar had raised that cafe far above all the others.  And now it was gone.  The food that Blob Thing wanted to eat was now impossible food.  What was there in its place was the same dull thing served by a thousand other cafes.  A leaf.  Coleslaw.  Crisps.

And so Blob Thing asked to leave the cafe.  He will treasure the memories of those two plates of food he shared at Super Natural.  But there will never again be a plate of food to compare with them.

Blob understands that the cafe probably had to become as boring as all the other cafes in order to make some money.  He understands that they want to survive and to have some profits to give to the cats.  But he's still quite sad about it.

Blob Thing is glad that he has written about that day out.  It was a good day, but thinking about the fact that it can never happen again is an unhappy thought.  He's glad that he doesn't have to write this blog again and think about it some more.

He's not decided what to write about tomorrow.  He might talk some more about Winefride and share their adventure with the policemen.  Or maybe not.  There will come a time very soon when he will be missing days.  This is his 69th post in 69 days.  But he'll probably miss days soon.  Next week Blob Thing will be going to an autism conference for four days and he'll be very busy indeed.  And then not long after that he's going to a Christian festival and he will have to leave the computer at home and so won't be able to post anything at all.  Be warned.  The missing days are coming!




[2020 words.  Blob's person thought that if she didn't let Blob just dictate the post then it would be much shorter.  Her plan didn't work.]

Blob Thing Relaxes In Super Natural Cafe, Newcastle Upon Tyne

A quick post today.  Blob is exhausted after his holiday in Manchester and his person is exhausted too.  So he doesn't want to talk much and she doesn't want to type much.  Tomorrow, if he has the time, he wants to write about the very special thing that happened while he was away.  It's something that he hadn't expected at all and he's very happy about it.  Blob Thing is also very happy that he had his dress fixed so it won't keep falling off.  He feels a lot more stylish now.

Today Blob quickly wants to share some photos that were taken on a visit to a cafe in Newcastle.  This is Super Natural, which has recently opened on Grainger Street, having moved from a quieter location.

Blob's person had been having an awful time in town a couple of weeks previously and had failed to get into the cafe, instead shutting down almost totally in the street outside and only just and only eventually managing to get herself the twenty metres to the bus stop to wait for a bus to get her home.  She wanted to try again.  She wasn't going to be defeated by terrible head days.  Blob applauds her determination.

They went back to the cafe together on a day on which she was feeling a lot better.  It was ever so comfortable inside and they were able to share a lovely sofa.  They ordered themselves a drink and decided that it was a good place to be.  The man behind the counter even turned the music down for the two friends, which they much appreciated.  Blob's person has been learning from Blob's creator that asking for music to be turned down is allowed.

Much exhaustion.  Much.  So here are a few photos.  And not much more.  Blob's Person thinks that after yesterday's long ramble from Blob anyone would be very grateful for brevity.

Here's Blob posing, with the opposite wall in the background.  All the cards under the clock were hand made and were being sold in aid of two animal charities.  Not only that, all profits from the cafe go to the charities too.  Blob is glad.  Nobody is there to get rich but any spare money from his drink might help to make a cat happy.

Here's Blob posing on the arm of the chair with the length of the cafe and the counter behind him.  He thought it was great.  The ceiling left something to be desired but he knows it would have cost so much money for the cafe people to make a new ceiling that they wouldn't have made any money to feed the cats.

Here's Blob Thing posing.  Again.  He likes posing.  And, you must admit, he does it so well.  Isn't the table wonderful too?

And here is the view from that comfy sofa out of the window.  When he entered, the chairs were occupied by some people having a discussion group.  He thinks they were philosophers of some kind.  One of them had a book that looked very interesting but Blob wasn't quite interested enough to note down the title.

Beyond the window you can see part of the Anglican Church of Saint John the Baptist.  One random piece of information Blob knows about that church from his reading about Newcastle is that it contains the oldest known depiction of the three castle symbol of the city.  Sometime he wants to have a good look round.  Last week he was touring another church in the city and he's still a bit excited by his memory of ringing the bells.

One final picture.  Here is Blob's person in Super Natural, sitting with Blob.  The book she's failing to read due to Blob having sat on top of it is On The Edge of Gone, a young adult book about the aftermath of a meteor hitting the world.  The main character is autistic, as it the author.  Blob was glad that an autistic person was writing the autistic character.  It meant that the depiction was realistic and that autism became part of the make up of that character rather than the character becoming just a set of stereotypes - like in a certain very popular novel that Blob couldn't finish because every chapter seemed to be about a different stereotype and not about a person at all.

Blob and his person have returned to the cafe.  He'll tell you about that visit sometime.  On that day they shared a healthy lunch, chatted with a philosopher, and then later accidentally stayed on for tea and cake with some unexpected people.

So that's it.  A short post.  Blob can head off to his bed now.  He's looking forward to it.

And tomorrow?

Tomorrow he will share the good news.  It is very good news.  VERY good.



[806 words]

Blob Thing In Durham - Disappointment in a Cathedral, Life By a River

It was the third of June.  Blob Thing is interested by that.  It's not because it's a particularly interesting date in his life, some special anniversary.  It's because this is his 42nd post on his blog and the 2nd post was about his adventure on the fourth of June.  Forty posts later, forty days later, and he has gone back in time by one day.  Today Blob is starting to write about his adventure that happened on the day he began his blog with that brief introduction.   It seems quite funny to him that he's right back at the beginning.  It seems astounding to him that he has had so many varied adventures since that beginning, so much that he wants to share with you.

At this point of course, Blob's person wants to butt in and tell the world that forty is the only number in English in which the letters are in alphabetical order.  She likes having useless information like that in her head.  Blob has decided not to let her butt in at this point.  He has an adventure to start telling you about.

On the third of June Blob's person decided that they could go and visit Durham.  She had only been there once since moving to the North-East.  She had been with her parents.  They moaned about the place and she had a nasty cold at the time so it hadn't been the most enjoyable of days.  It was time to go back and start to learn what Durham could offer.

The two friends arrived in Durham and walked from the bus station to the river along a street that contained a large number of charity shops.  Already Durham had something to offer them and they hadn't even reached the river.  They crossed the river - Blob's person taking photos but forgetting to take photos of Blob.  Poor Blob.  And they walked up the hill to the Cathedral.  Blob's person had decided to begin to explore the tourist attractions of Durham and the cathedral is the most famous.  She took photos of the outside of the cathedral.  Again, she forgot that Blob might want to have his picture taken.  Poor Blob.

Blob's person wasn't very good at remembering then.  After all, Blob didn't have a blog.  He had suggested starting one.  His creator had suggested starting one.  But his person had been quite reticent about the idea.  She had got used to the idea of taking a small pink soft toy out with her.  She had got used to the idea of taking a picture of that small pink soft toy sometimes to share with his creator.  And she had even dedicated a blog post to that small pink soft toy, just because it amused her and it would make Blob's creator smile or even laugh.

But a blog for Blob?  That seemed to be a step too far.  By the third of June she had come round to the idea.  And that night Blob would sit with her and together they would write something.  But they had no idea that his blog would take on its own life and Blob's person had no idea that Blob would have so many opinions to express about every aspect of life.  In all honesty she can't fathom how a small pink soft toy could ever act or speak in such a manner.  Nevertheless, that's what he does.

Blob entered the cathedral with his person.  She had decided that he could be photographed there.  But to their dismay there were lots of signs telling them that photography in the cathedral was completely forbidden.  And at every point there were men and women standing there who would have rapidly stopped them from taking any pictures.  They know that the good people of Durham Cathedral would much rather have people buy postcards than take their own pictures.  They know that much of the energy and finance running of a Cathedral has to go to the upkeep of an old building rather than the upkeep of the church that Jesus talked about - that is, the people.  They know too that the cathedral is first and foremost a place of Christian worship, not a museum.  And they know that dozens of people wandering round taking photos, especially if they forgot to turn the flash off, would be distracting for the faithful.

It was a great disappointment though.  A postcard would be a pretty picture.  But it wouldn't be a personal picture, a personal link with a place known as the House of God.  More importantly it would just be a picture of stone and glass.   Pretty, but not living.  Blob had dearly wanted to have pictures of himself inside the cathedral.  He felt very sad about it and wanted to cry.  Given how much Blob smiles every day, given how happy he is, that is a profound statement.  In the house of God, the place where life should be most celebrated, he could only take away pictures of stone rather than pictures of life or of freedom.  Of course he didn't cry outwardly.  As far as we know, Blob Thing is physiologically unable to cry real tears.  Inside though he felt the tears rising up and he just wanted to get out of that cathedral as quickly as he could.

At that point Blob hated cathedrals.  He hated churches.  And he hated an organisation that could even conceive of turning life into death.  He's relaxed about it now and recently was very pleased to visit another cathedral - St. Nicholas in Newcastle Upon Tyne - and to have had his picture taken there.  In that cathedral he even made some friends.  Blob will tell you about that on another day.

Blob and his person left the cathedral.  She hadn't liked it much either.  And to be honest her parents hadn't liked it either on their trip several years before.  The outside was pretty though and Blob walked through the grounds and then had a thought.  He said to his person, "It's lunchtime, where shall we eat?"  Blob's person agreed that lunch would be nice and they started to walk back down the hill.  There were lots of cafes but they all seemed quite expensive and were all quite crowded.  They passed the place that Blob's person had eaten in with her parents - a little upstairs cafe run by the Salvation Army.  That was somewhere worth returning to if they didn't find somewhere else.  It was quiet and it was cheap.

Then, further down the hill, they stumbled on a little sign pointing into a building.  It said cafe, but nobody was going in and Blob said they should go in and see what was there.  It was a good choice.

This is the cafe in Alington House.  It was quiet.  The person at the counter was friendly and helpful.  The only other customers were friendly.  Blob liked it.  It's true that the menu for the day was extremely limited.  But that was fine.  There was something for Blob and his person to eat.  It was cheap though.  Blob says that he wants to reproduce the menu in full:

Cheese and onion toastie:  £1
Cheese and ham toastie:  £1
Ham and onion toastie:  £1

That was the menu.  Blob's person would have been happy with any of those choices but decided to be a little cheeky and ask for something that wasn't on the menu:  A cheese, ham, and onion toastie.  When it arrived it was very tasty indeed.  A large mug of tea completed the meal for an extra fifty pence.  They were both happy to have found the cafe in Alington House.

Here's Blob in the cafe, posing with his person's noise cancelling headphones.  You can tell that he's radiating joy again, the sadness of the cathedral having been left behind.  He is a wonderful Blob.

Alington House seems to be a good place.  If you want to know more about it, here's the website.  It's a community charity in Durham.  The website says this:

We target work with groups that face disadvantage, including economic, social and educational disadvantages. We promote the celebration of difference through single gender work, asylum seeker and refugee work, and working with other marginalised groups.

We offer training to unemployed residents in the deprived Durham Coalfields area and work on an outreach basis to offer volunteering roles to those in need.

We have rooms available to hire for local community groups, good causes, and sympathetic organisations.

Blob and his person left the cafe and decided they wanted to walk by the River Wear.  They knew that the old town of Durham, including the cathedral, was built on a hill nearly surrounded by a bend in the river that nearly passed through a full circle.  So they could walk from one bridge along the river and right round the bend to another bridge.

It was quiet by the river and very pretty indeed.  Blob was very glad they were there.  It felt a lot closer to God, to spirit, to life than the Cathedral had.  The water and the trees were much more a temple than that place of worship had been.  They were free and the Cathedral had felt like a dark prison.  Blob knows that there are people who love the Cathedral, people who would be shocked by his words.  But he thinks about God, whatever that concept may mean.  It may be the wonder of the fullness of being or an actual person in the sky like the religious people keep claiming.  Whatever the case, Blob knows that God cannot be contained in a building.  God is life and there is more life in the movement of the water, the wind through the trees, the creatures that surround us, and the cycles of birth and decay, than there ever could be in the shapes of stone that humans create.  No matter how impressive those shapes are - and Durham Cathedral is impressive - they are nothing compared to the life outside them.

So to close, a couple of photos of Blob and the river.  The first was taken from the bridge before Blob climbed down the steps to the water's edge.  The second was taken soon after that.  Blob will tell you more about his day tomorrow, how much he enjoyed the river and then how he found something for his person to wildly enjoy.  She wants to blog about the day too.  Blob has reminded her about how good it was and she's been looking at all the photos she took, of the place Blob said she should go and explore.

[Holy crap.  1831 words, excluding the bit from the website.  Good grief.  This is getting ridiculous.]