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Derbyshire

Time After Time…

The phrase ‘Work Life Balance’ has been banded around since the 1980’s.  Then the Yuppie generation armed with brick sized mobile telephones and Filofaxes worked until they dropped, stood up and worked some more.  It was a time of overbearing pressure all in the name of money.  ‘Work hard and you can buy your time back’ was a phrase I once heard at a speaking conference from a sharp suited, tanned and trained presenter.  I’ve heard some ridiculous things in my time, but this must take the prize.  The inference was to make a fortune by 40 and then retire, no doubt with an ulcer or two and a heart problem.  The moment we become able to buy time as a commodity, is the time we should stop the world and get off…

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Blinded by the Light…

I’ve walked the path from Mam Tor to Lose Hill more times than I can count.  Over the years it has changed dramatically as thousands of pairs of boots take their toll on rock, soil and grass.  Popularity has been punishing and pounding this beautiful place into dust.  Stone paving has been laid from Hollins Cross to Mam Tor in an effort to lessen the erosion, and the old six lane motorway of tiered paths is recovering.  Around the trig point another bed of stones has been laid as this is one of the most famous viewpoints in the Peak District.  Some people like the work, whilst others detest it.  I don’t like the countryside changing, but we are damaging it at an ever-increasing rate.

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Hold Me Now…

Ice Climbing is a sport which many thing crazy, wrong or downright dangerous.  I disagree.  It’s a pure athletic sport, with routes that change year on year, challenging even the most skilled climber.  Variations in the weather can make or break a route, or a season.  It can be made as safe as you wish, but also as challenging as you like.  Physically it’s incredibly demanding, but the mental aspects come harder.  Youre climbing up water, which for much of the year is heading downhill.  Ive recently returned from a weeks climbing in Rjukan, Norway, where icefalls galore await…

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Love of the Common People…

Social networking is both a useful tool and an invasive curse.  It has allowed us to advertise what we do and where we are, but also invite the world into our homes and create a world of voyeurism and mental stress.  Last year I noticed an invitation on the web to a reunion party from my comprehensive school.  It was over 30 years since the class of 1985 had walked away from Belper High School and made their way in the world.  I didn’t think long before pressing accept.  I thought it would be good to catch up with old friends and talk over old times.  It was to be held in January, in a local pub, so I could wander down on foot, enjoy a few drinks and wander back home.  It seemed perfect…

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The Long Sobs of the Violins of Autumn…

The modern world is stressful, well that’s what everyone will tell you.  Report after report states that our mental health is suffering, our ability to make (and take) decisions is disappearing and that risk is something that we can’t accept.  I think you find that life has been stressful since the dawn of time.  If you didn’t hunt successfully, you and your family starved, harsh winters killed the weak, and tribes fought hand-to-hand combat over land, property and resources.  That sounds a heck of a lot more stressful than a late train, flat phone battery or failing central heating…

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Becoming X…

Photograph courtesy of Mike Lawn and Becoming X

‘Its not what you know, but who you know’ is a phrase that has long appeared in the English language. Recently I was invited to be involved in a new and exciting charity called ‘Becoming X‘, which hopes to motivate, inspire and help people across the world, all because of someone I know…
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On Plastic Patrol..!

The world is filling with litter.  You only have to walk down a street, look in a lay by or attend a sporting event to see it.  The aftermath of any music festival is a disgrace, and people attending seem to think that whatever they dump doesn’t matter.  Dog owners pick up dog poo and the leave the bag on the floor.  A few miles from my house is Junction 28 on the M1, which is legendary for its waste.  I’m sure there is an invisible road sign which reads ‘Please chuck your litter out of the window before joining the Motorway’.   That’s the bad news, but there is some good…

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