Category: The Athons

Juneathon 12/30 – to wallaby or not to wallaby

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We had high hopes for tonight’s expedition – a canal run along a stretch where we had previously spotted both a goat and an exotic animal (in the form of a wallaby). There’s every chance that we were previously mistaken about the wallaby, but whatever it was, it was certainly bigger than a squirrel.

Unfortunately, the wallaby was no more and there were no goats to be seen either. I’m slightly miffed by this as it seems like every man and his dog had a goat last year, but now we are goatless. Someone has indeed got my goat.

However, all was not lost and we did see a bit of traditional canal art in the form of roses and castles (another suggestion from the prolific Morning of Magicians).

King of the castle

We also say a conifer that looked a bit like a molar – does this count as an interesting tree @torsparkles?

It looks like more like a tooth in real life. Maybe you had to be there.

For the return leg, we ventured off the towpath and onto the main road where eagle eyed Ginge (I might start calling him that all of the time) spotted an orchid (although I am still hoping to see a real one on my travels Jo!)

An unexpected orchid

Tomorrow night is yoga night, so it’s an early hunt in the morning – unless downward facing cat will count as treasure?

My Juneathon Treasure Hunt List – An update

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Seeing as we’re over a third of the way in now, here’s an updated list of what’s been spotted:

  1. Creature
  2. Glitter
  3. Cake
  4. Cat
  5. Sheep
  6. Motorbike
  7. Hill
  8. Viewpoint
  9. An interesting tree
  10. An exotic animal
  11. Road kill
  12. A geocache
  13. Goat
  14. A roadside egg stall
  15. A view through an arch
  16. A pebble
  17. Something orange
  18. 39 steps
  19. Trig point
  20. A red door
  21. A blue fence
  22. The ark of the covenant
  23. A tree with someone’s name carved in
  24. An orchid
  25. A piece of grass longer than 50 cms
  26. A cloud that looks like someone/ something (preferably a crocodile)
  27. Rhino
  28. Llama
  29. Pub
  30. Milestone
  31. Pothole
  32. Feather
  33. Parkrun t-shirt
  34. Union Jack
  35. Local ale
  36. Manchester tart
  37. Post van
  38. Cyclist
  39. Fire engine
  40. Unicorn
  41. Penguin
  42. Kiwi
  43. A dignified pigeon.
  44. A piece of street furniture that looks like a face.
  45. The meaning of life.
  46. An ice cream cornet without the ice cream
  47. A shell
  48. A penny
  49. Unusual bit of rubbish
  50. A Lego mini figure
  51. A dragon
  52. A badger
  53. A pirate
  54. A stick shaped like a letter (but not an I or an L)
  55. A giant rabbit (preferably wearing a bow tie and/or a top hat)
  56. Dr Who with an iguana
  57. A half eaten Greggs
  58. A Kentish Orchard
  59. Teaspoon
  60. Teabag
  61. Dice
  62. A pink car
  63. A chalk drawing on the pavement
  64. Treasure (money)
  65. A baby swan
  66. Run an errand i.e. run home with a 2kg bag of potatoes
  67. Climb a tree en route
  68. An interesting plaque
  69. Pretty bunting
  70. Beach
  71. Pier
  72. Olympic torch relay
  73. Supermarket
  74. Ducks
  75. Riverboats
  76. Castle
  77. Motorway
  78. Thunderstorm
  79. A proper Cornish pasty
  80. …

Juneathon 11/30 – in the pink

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It’s fair to say that with a third of Juneathon done and dusted, the treasure hunting is starting to take over my brain a little bit. Tonight I contemplated running a particular route because I had passed a squashed pigeon in the middle of the road. This is not good. Incidentially, if and when I do spot some roadkill, am I expected to photograph it? I don’t want to offend the squeamish and equally, I’m not sure I want to be the sort of person who takes photos of squished wildlife.

Tonight was a simple two miles (I would’ve done a bit longer, but my tea was sitting heavy) taking in a pink car (suggested by runorgocrazy) that we had clocked earlier in the evening.

It’s not quite Lady Penelope, but never mind.

I am very pleased to have ticked this off because I was being tormented by a Barbie pink Fiat 500. I keep passing one on the road while I’m out driving, but never see it while I’m out running. If I do see it while I’m treasure hunting I will take a photo of it because it is about as pink as you can get, but at least now I can dampen down my persecutory ideas that the driving has been taunting me on purpose…

Juneathon 10/30: A walk in the park

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Today’s run was supposed to be straightforward; I would join Ginge in the gym for a bit and then run home. I got to the gym and it dawned on me that I’ve neglected the gym a bit during Juneathon. I enjoy doing my weights at the gym but can’t get past either the tedium of cardio equipment or the rubbishness of the telly that’s on.

Anyway, at the gym I managed to climb 39 steps (the first of Follystone‘s suggestions that crop up today)…

I can also offer blurry photos of 38 and 40 steps if anyone’s interested

…and did a bit on the cross trainer before I got restless. Sometimes I keep myself entertained by swearing at the adverts. No matter what channel is on, they’re always a variation of payday loans, Uniform Dating (do you fancy people who have to wear a designated outfit and a name badge?) and the Veet one with the girl who’s inordinately proud that she no longer gives herself third degree burns whilst waxing her legs. Sadly the EDF energy advert wasn’t on, which deprived me both of something orange and the opportunity to mutter darkly at what is essentially a jovial orange poo with backing dancers.

It’s called Zingy apparently

After a while I think I must have been annoying Ginge because he suggested the grand idea of me running round town looking for treasure (yes mum, there was shades of this being ‘a good job for me’).

Off I trotted, optimistically seeking a half eaten Greggs or someone’s dropped treasure, but unfortunately the locals are too frugal to waste pastry or spare change. I made my way up to the park, getting some slightly odd looks as I darted from tree to tree looking for one from my list. I didn’t quite find Jo’s a tree with someone’s name carved in, but this one did have a declaration of love so I think that counts.

Today I shall be mad woman taking photos of trees

I headed up to the lake to see if I could spy some baby swans, only to get into a conversation with a couple who were looking for exactly the same thing. Apparently, the swans have been on the nest constantly for the last week, but today both were off it and yet there was no sign of any cygnets. The nesting island was covered in ducks and gulls, which is a bit odd if there were eggs or babies on there. I am awaiting updates.

Swan: may or may not have been a neglectful parent

Even though there were no baby swans, there was this chap who, with his waterside hangout, certainly looked like a dignified pigeon (and his feet weren’t deformed or nothing). If you want to see the very definition of a dignified pigeon have a look at Deadly Knitshade, yarn bomber extraordinaire and keeper of both Cooey the Pigeon and Plarchie the Giant Squid. Her book (Stitch London) is bloody awesome.

I am a pigeon. This is my lake.

After all the socialising and pigeon paparazzi, I thought I better head back to Ginge whose eagle eyes had spotted a blue fence (another of Follystone‘s) at the railway station.

I’ve spent ages defining what is a fence and what are railings. This is most definitely a fence.

Gym graced with my presence, three miles run, four treasures spotted, not bad for a Sunday.

Juneathon 9/30 – cutting it fine

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Today I played chicken with Juneathon.

My original intention had been to get up early and try to spot a Parkrun t-shirt at Pennington Flash Parkrun. Unfortunately, I overslept. I then realised that I didn’t actually want to do a morning run despite that fact that I was due to have my hair cut at 12. This might be a girl thing, but if I’m having my hair done I don’t like to do anything to mess it up afterwards – I just enjoy basking in the all too brief hours where it has been blow dried by someone who knows what they’re doing. Unfortunately, last time my hair had been cut, I had to have a little cry afterwards and I was absolutely petrified about this appointment (my hair has just about grown out to the length that I wanted two months ago. And my hair grows fast). Anyway, I figured that if it was just as traumatic, I could always go for a run afterwards and see if that helped.

As it was, my hair turned out exactly how I wanted to and I celebrated by buying a new frock and some soup. You’ll notice how none of this counts for Juneathon. I went home, I ate my soup, I mixed up some chocolate and black treacle biscuits from Marian Keyes’ book Saved By Cake, I realised that leaving the page covered in splatters of biscuit mix is bad form when it’s a library book (you can tell all of my favourite recipes by the fact that the pages are like a Jackson Pollock rendered in butter, sugar and flour), I ate the mixture off the spatula more times than I should have done, I did many things. None of which were Juneathon.

One of our local pubs is having it’s annual folk festival this weekend (the weather is always rubbish this weekend, it’s as if god doesn’t like banjos) and I do enjoy embracing my inner folky. Conveniently the pub is bob on a mile away from our house (I know where the half mile markers are located in all directions from our front door) so we pootled up, listened to a nice bit of folky bluegrass and enjoyed a few pints of Hobgoblin (Ginge) and Marston’s Pedigree Diamond (me). Sadly these aren’t local ales for us (they’ll be local to someone though) otherwise I’d be able to tick that one off the list.

Special drinking beer outside gloves – to be blogged about at a later point

There had still been no Juneathon action at this point. I had however made preparations; Miles was in my bag, I was clad in appropriate foundation garments and I was the height of sartorial elegance by wearing running shoes to the pub. Keeping an eye on the clock like Cinderella at the ball, I was playing Juneathon chicken right up to the wire. I wasn’t helped by my last minute nip to the loo being held up by the woman in front of me seemingly having a bladder the size of a zeppelin.

If you look closely, Miles says 23:41

Despite this, I made it – a one mile run (in a surprisingly decent time, all things considered) from the pub (suggested by the Queen of the Athons herself) arriving home with 3 minutes to spare.