More Clearing Out, some Nice Music and a Brat from Hell.

This Freecycle lark works a treat. Tomorrow the small vacuum cleaner, late of the cupboard under the stairs, departs to a new carpet where I hope it will be very happy. When I find the troll who threw it's empty pizza box over my back fence, it will depart to somewhere much less happy.

An otherwise splendid evening at the Bridgewater Hall, Manchester where we were treated to a lovely early piece by Delius which softened us up nicely for stirring stuff in the form of Elgar's Violin Concerto followed by a thumping rendition of Vaughan-Williams London Symphony. All played admirably by the Halle Orchestra. I should have guessed at the volume even before the conductor announced that it would be a "loud" concert - it's not often that you see 8 double bass lined up behind a formidable brass & woodwind section and no less than 12 cellos. The music was almost as loud as the screaming brat who accompanied me on a crowded train all the way to Manchester. Why the demonette's mother didn't fold and stow the baby buggy instead of standing with it and blocking the carriage exit beats me. Perhaps, as she only looked to be 14 or so, she hasn't yet taken her GCSE in commonsense. When the trolley service came along it degenerated into total gridlock. The grandmother (with vari-coloured hair) didn't have much more sense either as she decided that the infant from hell would be quieter if she emptied a large heap of crisps on the fold down tray. One sweep of a tiny paw and all but one ended up on the carriage floor. This was repeated twice whereupon grandmother picked up the devil's offspring (who occupied it's OWN seat), stood up and ushered a nice tidy but clearly reluctant couple into the seats saying that she was getting off at the next station. I later saw the couple at the Bridgewater Hall and the lady was still attempting to remove remnants of Quavers from her frock. I could have sworn she crackled as she sat down - and you know how these sounds echo in an auditorium.

Thanks to the evil Transpennine Express deciding that it is now beneath them to stop at my station I no longer have time for a pint or two of excellent ale at a proper pub just down from the Bridgewater Hall. "The Briton's Defense" was so named because it was a recruiting office in the late 1800s. No music, no formica but a range of real ales to make a Methodist salivate. If your juices aren't flowing by the beer on tap then the meals blackboard - "Real wild boar and venison cooked in wine" should do the trick. Even my concert-going pal, who is a slightly lapsed veggie was impressed. Tonight we managed to quickly guzzle a pint of Tetley's Bitter (it DOES travel well outside of Yorkshire) before the performance but it was all too hurried to be savoured properly. We have decided to set aside a Friday night in November, spurn St Cecilia in favour of St Camra and sample some traditional Mancunian pubs. I'll drink to that...