Tales From The Tearooms, Hey Little Cupcake.

I will let you into a little secret, Im not a HUGE fan of cupcakes. I prefer a traybake or a slice of something cakey. Cupcakes can be TOO sickly in my experience ( which is extensive). The absolute exception to this rule, are the divine cupcakes baked by Stuart Thornley
( www.stuartthornleycakedesign.co.uk)but I will blog about those another time.
Hey Little Cupcake is a cupcakery and coffee

shop in Spinningfields, Manchester, next door to Nando's. Bel and I have been visiting for about a year now and our last outing was after a Mother's Day brunch in the nearby Alchemist.
The shop is small but, oh, so perfectly formed, it is a piece of New York style frippery in the heart of Manchester. The pink and white, airy decor brings a smile to my face.There is a selection of gifts to buy, I couldn't resist this mug, and you can attend cake baking/ decoration classes here too.
The service is always friendly and when I have visited it hasn't been too busy, so getting a table is easy. Bel always choses a Viva Las Vegas chocolate cake, which she adores,and my mum chose a Sorrento Cello lemon cake, which she polished off very quickly. I had the New Yorker which was not too sweet due to the coffee flavour with coffee frosting on top.
Hey Little Cupcake is a great place for a quick pit-stop whilst out in town with the girls.

Another Friday, another gig: The Civil Wars

Last night I went to see The Civil Wars at The Academy 2 in Manchester. My daughter saw them supporting Adele last year and text me from the Apollo to say she was watching a duo I would love. She was right, I bought their debut album, Barton Hollow, and was hooked by their perfect harmonies and brand of Americana/Country/Folk. I snapped up tickets when their solo tour was announced. Since then, the band have won two Grammies and are returning in the Autumn to larger venues. Jo and I felt lucky to be watching them in the relatively intimate atmosphere of the Academy and we managed to weave ourselves through the sell-out crowd to quite near the front (an important factor when you barely scrape 5ft 2).

With just John-Paul White's guitar as accompaniment, his and Joy Williams' vocals were just perfect and their chemistry was palpable. They treated us to much of Barton Hollow plus wonderful covers of Portishead's "Sour Times", Leonard Cohen's "Dance Me To The End Of Love" and, as an encore that got the whole place singing along, a pared down version of "Billie Jean". The duo appeared to genuinely enjoy themselves and were very warmly received by the Mancunian crowd. If you get the chance, do go and see them, The Civil Wars will not disappoint.

Laura, Laura, I adore ya.

Laura Marling is twenty two years old and has already produced three albums of astonishing songs. I will be honest, the appeal of Adele has passed me by somewhat. I realise I'm in a very slim minority, but I find listening to a whole album samey, the lyrics do not move me at all. However, Laura's voice and poetry can transport me to another place altogether.
The Manchester O2 Apollo looked full last night and as she ambled on stage dressed in jeans and a sweater, Laura looked nothing like a star but when she sang, staring upwards, delivering lines of such beauty, the effect was mesmeric. The band were extremely adept and an "introduction to the band" slot was amusingly accompanied by each of them reciting a "fact". I now know that there are sixty two pieces of Lego for every human on the planet thanks to the keyboard player.
However, it was all about the songs. Laura opened with the first four tracks off her latest album, "A Creature I Don't Know" then we were treated to flawless renditions of older songs from "Alas, I Cannot Swim" and "I Speak Because I Can" plus some new songs.Her voice is so pure, better live than on the records, both me and my erstwhile gig-buddy, Jo, were both in tears at various points.
Near the end of a perfect ninety minute set, some witless big-mouth shouted, "C'mon, Laura, play something to get the crowd going". This was met with a few boos and general disbelief, Laura's retort, " I think you're at the wrong gig, mate" drew huge applause. Her's isn't barn-storming, sing-a-long music. It's music to be cherished, loved and I for one felt very fortunate to spend a Friday night in her delightful company.

Tales From The Tearooms, Sugar Junction.

To say that tea rooms are my favourite places may be an exaggeration, but the prospect of visiting one certainly puts a spring in my step. There are many fine establishments in the Manchester area and as I appear to have visited most of them, I have decided to write, briefly, about my favourites. Today, I visited Sugar Junction at 60, Tib Street, Manchester.

I had not been before, but several of my twitter friends spoke well of it, and first impressions

were extremely favourable. I sat downstairs in a room full of mismatched furniture, comfy sofas and tables decorated with embroidered tablecloths and fresh flowers. The effect was cosy and not at all twee. The waitress was very friendly and the service was excellent. I had a delicious Spinach and Coconut soup which came with two large slices of fresh wholemeal bread. I followed this with a sticky toffee slice (gorgeous) which I had to choose from a mouth-watering selection, with not a cup-cake in sight. A pot of China Gun Powder tea washed it all down nicely and all for less than £10. I will certainly return and it is definitely worth walking the small distance from the chains in the Arndale for something far more tasty and eclectic

Happy First Twitter Birthday

It has been a year since I joined Twitter. A year. My daughter had signed up, soon became tired of me peeping over her shoulder and suggested I got my own account. "Why on earth would I want to do that, I'm not interested in what strangers had for their lunch", was my response I recall. Well, here I am twelve months on and seven and a half thousand tweets later. So, what do I know?

1. I should have chosen a different name. I have had to wear a badge emblazoned with UNCOOLMUM to a theatre production of Edward II. Embarrassing does not begin to describe it.

2. I will not blindly follow celebrities, many are boring in the extreme, constantly self-promoting and re-tweeting sychophancy However, the thrill of getting a reply off someone even vaguely famous is undeniabley thrilling.

3.I cannot watch television now without slipping onto twitter. I HAVE to see comments made by people like @TheMichaelMoran or @gracedent or @mrchrisaddison who can encapsulate the absurdity of t.v. programmes like the X Factor,in just a few pithy words.

4. Twitter has revolutionised my music listening. Recommendations abound and @WhisperingBob's choices now fill up my CD shelf.

5. I now read a number of excellent blogs, indeed, I have started one myself ( a blog, not an excellent one obviously ). I have discovered great web sites and I find out the latest news instantaneously. This annoys my husband, who says it is like living with a Sky News presenter. Hopefully, not Kay Burley.

6. Through Twitter, I heard about Vintage Village, a monthly market of all things vintage-y and craft-y in Stockport. I really enjoy visiting the market and have met up with many fellow tweeters there. This leads me to...

7. Most pleasingly, I have met some genuinely lovely people through twitter. I never foresaw this and, indeed, I would have thought it a bit of a strange thing to happen. However, I initially met @wifenotlodger at the Vintage Village and we share so many interests such as music, books and theatre. None of my "real-life" friends likes the same music as me ( "weirdy folk" as my daughter sweetly puts it) so I now have a gig-buddy. We have been to see Fleet Foxes and Gillian Welch and The Pierces are coming up.
The Royal Exchange theatre recently held a twitter critic evening where tweeters were invited to see Edward II, then tweet a review. I met up with some really interesting people and it was good to go along and leave my "comfort-zone" for a while. I have also been to a couple of tea parties for charity organised by the nicest ladies it has been my pleasure to meet.

8. When I was looking after my dying father I spent many days and nights alone with him and I will never forget those people who took the time to communicate with me and send their good wishes. No matter what time of night it was, there was always someone out there. When he did pass away, just a few words sent by strangers, did provide real comfort. This may sound odd as I will never "know" the majority of the people who tweet me. I think this is the concept most non-twitters find hard to understand. However, being able to communicate succintly into the ether, is tremendously liberating. If no one replies, that's okay, but usually someone does, and that's okay too.

It has been great to find those who share the same sense of humour, or can introduce you to something new. So, no, twitter isn't all about what people ate for their lunch and yes, some tweets can leave you a little discombobulated, but I can honestly say my year on Twitter has been a great thing. Happy Twitter Birthday to me!

Vintage Fun in Stockport

On Sunday, Isobel and I went on our monthly jaunt to the Vintage Village in Stockport. Held in the Market Hall, it is home to dozens of stalls, all groaning with delights, old and new.I could easily spend all day there but the teen starts getting angsty and has to be plied with tea and cupcakes.

I bought these beautiful tea plates a couple of months ago from Parrot in the Pantry and I have used them for lucious sweet treats ever since.
Bathing Beauty's stall is simply gorgeous. George Jones is a micro-producer of beautiful skin products. Isobel was lucky enough to win the monthly prize draw of bath delights, and I must admit to pinching a few. Each contain a rose bud, which caused Bel to yell out after a bath recently as she thought a creepy crawly was stuck in the plug hole.This month I bought some divine body oil, which helps soothe sun-burn.George is lovely to chat to ( you can follow her on twitter @bathingbeauty1 ), as are the other stall holders. All are super-friendly and take time to chat about their wares.

I also bought this little picture from Parrot in the Pantry as it reminds me of my youth and some lovely cake forks for my Saturday tea parties. Stuart Thornley Cake Designs ( follow them on twitter @STCakeDesign )are usually there, tempting everyone with their delicious cakes and cake pops.
So, if you get the chance, do pay Vintage Village ( @Vintage_Village )a visit. Only a pound admission and a cornucopia of delights awaits.......

Prom Tiddley Prom Prom

I have only vague memories of our Leaver's Disco in the Upper Sixth. I remember thinking how hard it was to dance to "Two Tribes" by Frankie Goes To Hollywood and fervently wishing I hadn't worn a WHITE dress. I had been heavily influenced by the Evelyn Waugh novels I had been reading and was aiming for the 1920's look, I had the bob and I had the drop-waisted dress. I started the evening looking like a Wimbledon finalist from 1928 and thanks to several drunken 18 year olds, ended up looking like I was wearing a Jackson Pollock canvas.
These days, instead of a Leaver's Disco we have the PROM. I have read, with only a passing interest, about this phenomena imported from America and how vast amounts of time, energy and hard cash are invested in the "Prom Experience."I am guilty of sneering at the idea and have been known to chuckle at photographs in the local paper of orange-coloured girls, caked in make-up, looking like extras from a John Water's film, squeezing into stretch limousines.
Then it all lands on your doorstep, doesn't it? My daughter is fifteen and there have been rumblings about "the prom" for a couple of years now. This year, my niece, who is the school year above her, had her prom. It is fair to say that we have had months of stress as she chose her dress, her shoes, her make-up and so on. Prom day arrived and I was prepared to be cynical and ready to stifle my giggles. However, things don't always turn out the way you think.
The day began with a Leaver's Mass at the school. I only know my niece and a handful of others there, but the Mass was such an emotional experience. Scores of youngsters sang "Do Not Be Afraid" as they set out into the grown up world of college and employment. I was instantly transported back to my school days and I saw the same tribes; the pretty ones, the plain ones, the serious ones, the cocky ones..all on the cusp of adulthood, not knowing how their future would unfold but all hoping for the best. The service ended with photographs of the children throughout their school lives beamed onto a huge screen with "Never Forget" playing in the background. It is safe to say, there was not a dry eye in the place.
In the evening, my daughter and I went to my niece's house where her grandmother, mum, brother and great aunt were all buzzing with anticipation. Ilaria descended the stairs and it was impossible not to become dewy eyed at this excited sixteen (almost) year old, head girl of the school and looking so beautiful and nervously looking forward to the night ahead.
We all went to the school where hundreds of people had turned out to see their children off. Girls were preening like beautiful peacocks, chattering with the cold and nervous energy and be-suited boys hung around in packs, hands in pockets, looking bashful.

It was a timeless scene, played out over the ages, across all cultures. Girls and boys turning into men and women, a huge pre-courtship ritual as the elder players gracefully bow out. The prom goers jostled onto the coaches, and those who were left behind stood and waved. We waved them off into the night and into their post- school lives, all carrying their own hopes and dreams. Life will probably not turn out the way they plan, but on this night, anything was imaginable. I defy any cynic not to have been as tearful as me as the coaches pulled away.
So, yes, Prom nights are a commercialised con, yet another way of extracting cash from children and their long-suffering parents. However, on a cold May evening in Swinton, I saw the bigger picture and I was enchanted.