Newspaper article The Journal (Newcastle, England)

Why Can't I Be off the Cuffe?

Newspaper article The Journal (Newcastle, England)

Why Can't I Be off the Cuffe?

Article excerpt

Byline: By Bob Cuffe

We've been in our home now for just under a year. Part of the reason for moving was the police ( they really became quite insistent, but there were others.

The neighbours were terribly common and used to drink cheap gin all day long. Also there were work considerations. The fines don't pay themselves.

A significant part of the attraction was that after 10 years at the old house, we were looking forward to a change. We were in a routine. The same schedule every week. The same hairdressers/barbers.

Barbers are certainly a rum crew. And an ugly one. Like Orcs they are.

Wednesday ( Cement Woman does the big shop, where we get the same things, moaning that everything has been moved, from the same supermarket every week.

Fish and chips on a Thursday. A Chinese takeaway on a Saturday. Sometimes, in a wildly extravagant devil may care moment, we'd opt for an Indian takeaway.

Some of you might choose between a night out on the lash, or a night in, wife swapping. For us it's beef in black bean sauce or chicken jalfrezi. Always the same meals. Always after scouring the menu for 10 minutes. A complete and utter waste of time.

And then we watch Casualty. Me looking away at the blood bits, Cement Woman moving closer to the gore.

Sunday ( pay the newsagent and, the most magnificent of all routines, Sunday Lunch.

But we have alternate venues. One week at home, the feast burned by the calloused claw of Cement Woman, the next week, beautifully prepared by the marvellous crew at the Marquis Of Granby. Where we always sat at table 11. Honestly.

We reflected that life was just passing us by, and the move would be good for us.

I'm delighted to announce that we are now absolutely, and irretrievably, landlocked in exactly the same routine, but just moved 45 miles south.

It didn't take us a year. We'd largely slumped back into the same pattern of life within six months. Moving home means for a while, you're lost. …

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