How the flippity do is it May tomorrow?? (can you see that I am reducing my swearing to make up for the other day)
Today we went to Leeds and I didn’t get lost. You will know this if you follow me on any social media as I haven’t stopped banging on about it. I met my fellow geographer (an actual official Doctor geographer, unlike me) cousin for lunch. She told me that Leeds was supposed to be the first ‘motorway city’ two words which should never be together. Honestly though, what a stupid idea!! At least I now understand all the bloody flyover nonsense. I hate it.
She was down from Scotland to do a lecture on shit holes. This is why geography is good. You can get away with doing academic work with the title shit holes. Based on her research (spoiler alert) there is no clear winner of a shit hole, there are literally shit holes all over Britain. Apparently this is part of our Britishness, that slightly taking the piss negativity and we are all doing it about everywhere.
One of the things she mentioned was cars on bricks, she once saw a children’s car propped up on bricks. Equally cute and devastating. My test of a shit hole is drunk people at pubs at times when there is no good reason to be drunk at a pub (Monday lunchtime) so sorry Pontefract you meet my criteria for a shit hole.
Other than discussing shit holes she brought Emily a little highland cow. It was really cute but also reminded me of our honeymoon when we bought a highland cow Christmas decoration for the tree from the castle. We have many sentimental Christmas decorations purchased together at special times. It has always been a carefully curated tree. We would put it up together and reminisce with M&S nibbles and mulled wine. Or I would, I doubt whether the almost ex husband actually remembered half of them. Funnily my friend has already discussed custody of the Christmas tree decorations with her boyfriend (they aren’t breaking up). We haven’t, I’m bloody well keeping them. I don’t know if I can bear to put them up every year with all the memories but I’m keeping the little buggers anyway. Mine.
However I didn’t hold it against my fluffy ginger friend. I took him to Temple Coffee and Donuts instead and bought him the donut that was closest to his hair colour. (not true, I just bought the most coffee-ist flavour which was espresso, cashew and praline).
The place was way too hipster. There were bikers outside on harley type things. Bright pink hair inside. Someone cling filmed up fresh from the tattoo parlour and more beards and slogan totes than I could count. We came in wearing a White Company pinafore, beige men’s jumper and carrying a tiny fluffy cow. I even had to ask them to explain what a long black was (how embarrassing to not understand the coffee menu), it’s actually an espresso with a little hot water added so not an Americano which has more hot water. Anyway the coffee and donuts were LOVELY.
However I plonked Emily on the sofa and looked the other way to stuff my face. When I turned around she had a rock in her mouth. Once again I was the shit mother whose child had procured an object without her knowing. Upon further inspection it was one of the West Leeds Rocks which is apparently a thing where you hide a rock for someone to find and get a picture for social media. So it had technically been hidden which I felt made it OK I hadn’t spotted it first.
Before leaving I went for a wee, which was through the pot washing area. Weird. The hand-wash smelled like men’s aftershave. Made me feel all weird later like I had a man with me in the car. Also made me want a man. Damn you stupid hipster handwash.