I was part of a “guinea pig” group to test out the course, which is aimed at encouraging community reporting and showing people how to find a story and how to report it in an interesting way that will encourage people to read it.

The first visit was to the studios to see North West Tonight being broadcast. We saw how it all went together and how the news as planned can and does change even while the programme is being broadcast. Afterwards we had the chance to meet and chat with Gordon Burns. Unfortunately, Diane Oxberry had to dash off that evening so we were unable to chat with her, though we did have the opportunity the following week when we saw the lunchtime news being broadcast.

The other two sessions were practical sessions with Jim Clarke, News Gathering Editor, North West Tonight. He explained the basics of finding a story, writing the story and then presenting it either in written form or through film.

I can report that all the stories about how awful BBC canteen food is are completely wrong. The only thing I was not happy with was that the course finished just as it was becoming really interesting!

I have since heard that when she is discharged from hospital she will be taken to a safe house in case any male relatives of her ex-husband decide to try to complete the despicable act that he failed in.

A male Asian friend told me that back home so called “honour killings” are against the law, but that these men get away with it because of bribery and corruption. If you have enough money then the authorities turn a blind eye. These same men believe that if a woman fails to comply with their idea of how a woman should behave then they will be able to get away with it in this country too. Well, they are wrong.

None of us expect this type of violence to occur so close to home and certainly not just after nine in the morning. It was only a few minutes earlier that I was standing at the bus stop watching children walking along Northmoor Road on their way to Stanley Grove Primary School.

There was a tree blown down in Crowcroft Park and another over by Bickerdyke. Two more came down on the open ground next to the railway bridge on Stanley Grove, just behind Asda.

I spotted lots of slates smashed on the pavements and roads so I guess quite a few people have leaky roofs now!

Trying to walk on Thursday was really difficult. At one point on Northmoor Road I had to brace myself against my shopping trolley and my walking stick just to stay in one place and avoid being blown back the way I had come. Waiting to cross the road by Up Town Girl a sudden gust of wind blew my trolley load of shopping over and almost blew me over too as I struggled to stop it being blown into the main road and causing an accident.

Thankfully, I have not heard of anyone suffering any serious injuries as a result of the storms. Let’s just hope that the snow the weathermen are predicting doesn’t turn out to be too heavy. Walking on frozen snow is not easy for those who have mobility problems.

 My name is Minnie Mouse and I am a very small terrier. I am half Yorkshire Terrier and half something else, possibly a hunt terrier or you might call them Jack Russell Terriers.

Like Seren I lived with my mum until I was about eight weeks old when I went to live with humans of my own. They treated me like a little queen. Anything I wanted I was given. I was boss in our house. I sat where I wanted to, I was not taught to be clean in the house, I would not let anyone else eat any of the dog food, it was mine, all mine! I did not realise that I was turning into a very horrid little dog.

One day one of my humans took me for a long walk. When we reached a big supermarket my human took me around the back of the store, tied me up and walked off. I sat and waited very patiently, but my human never came back. A lady found me when the store closed and took me home with her. She could not keep me, but a friend of hers who has Yorkshire Terriers said she would give me a home. She called me Bella. Bella is not my name so I ignored her. She thought I might be deaf, but I just ignored her because she was speaking to someone called Bella and I am called Minnie. I continued to be a very, very horrid little dog. After about five weeks the lady could not cope with me and took me back to the lady who had found me. She went to see another lady she knew and she said she would take me in. This is my new human.

My new human is very experienced with dogs. She used to compete in Obedience Competitions and also used to exhibit dogs in the breed ring. She said “Hello Bella.” Bella is not my name so I ignored her. My new human said “Bella isn’t your name is it?” I was quite impressed by this and sat in front of her and listened as she suggested various names. None of them were mine. Eventually she said What do you think about Minnie?” Well, I was really impressed this time because Minnie is my name. This human is really intelligent. I was so excited that she knew my name that I ran right up her front and licked her face, I raced around the house barking and I span in circles in front of her and wagged my tail so hard it nearly fell off. Because I am so small my human decided to call me Minnie Mouse instead of just Minnie. I like that name.

I have had to learn a lot of things since I came here to live. I have learnt that it is wrong to chase the cats. I have learnt that it is wrong to guard all the food dishes and not let anyone else eat. I have learnt that it is wrong to attack the others at meal times. I am still trying to learn that I must ask to go out and not poop in the house - the cats poop in the house in their toilet trays so why can’t I poop in the bathroom next to their toilet trays?

I have also learnt not to be afraid of newspapers and magazines. My new human does not hit me when I do things wrong, she just speaks to me firmly and say “No” and “Bad Minnie” and then patiently explains to me what I should be doing. Recently she acquired a walking stick. I was very, very afraid of the walking stick. I thought my human was going to hit me with the walking stick. She has explained to me that walking sticks are not for hitting dogs with. I am not afraid of it any more.

I am now learning to do obedience. I have learnt “Sit” and I have learnt the command to turn left. I have learnt to come back when I am called and now I am learning to sit and stay and to come back and sit in front of my human when she calls me. I am also learning to walk to heel and to turn right. This is a bit complicated because I want to walk faster than my human does. It is very hard work, but my human does not punish me when I get things wrong, she just explains it to me again and we try it again until we get it right. She makes it fun to learn because we play in between doing the work. I like to do things right to please her.

If you have brought a dog into your house this Christmas please remember that we need to learn what is right and what is wrong. If you do not tell us what is right and wrong how can you tell us off when we do something wrong? We learn best when you make it fun. We do not learn anything except fear if you hit us when we do things wrong. It doesn’t take long to learn to be afraid; it takes a long time to learn not to be afraid. If you google dog training classes you should be able to find one somewhere near where you live. They can help you to learn how to teach your dog to behave properly.

If you cannot cope with us please do not just drive us to somewhere strange and throw us out of the car. Please do not tie us up outside a supermarket. If you cannot cope with us then contact one of the dog charities that take in dogs when humans can no longer keep them. They will help us to find new homes and we will not be in danger of being run over. The PDSA, RSPCA and lots of smaller charities will be able to help. Google dogs homes and then search in the results for those in your local area.

 My name is Seren Teledu, which in english means Television Star, but you can call me Seren (Star). I have sneaked onto my human’s computer while she is busy in the next room. I am a small marmalade cat and this is my story. I thought I would tell it to you now because so many people will have added a puppy or a kitten to their family over Christmas.

At first my life was great. I lived with my mum and my brothers and sisters. My mum made sure we had plenty of milk to drink and when we were old enough to eat meat her humans made sure we had lots of good kitten food to eat. I learnt to eat meat and dry cat biscuits and to lap milk from a saucer.

One day some strange humans came to our house and played with us kittens. When they left they took me with them. I was so proud to have humans of my own. If only I had known what was to happen next I would have fought tooth and claw not to go with them.

For the first few days I had lots of good food to eat, but then suddenly they stopped feeding me kitten food. I became very, very hungry. In desperation I decided to try eating what the young humans ate and I learnt to steal from them. I learnt to eat crisps, quavers, bread and butter, jam sandwiches, cheese sandwiches, mashed potatoes and baked beans among other things. These are not the sort of things a cat can live on and I became thinner and thinner and thinner. I worked harder at stealing from the young humans and I got shouted at and hit for stealing. The young humans also treated me like a toy. They picked me up by my legs, my neck, my tail and they squeezed me very hard. Sometimes they carried me upside down holding on to one of my legs or my tail. I hurt all over.

One day one of the adult humans picked me up and put me in a cardboard box. I felt the human carrying the box out of the house. I thought they were taking me back to my mum. We walked for quite a long way and then the box was put down. I heard things being dropped on top of the box and then the human just walked away. I tried my best to get out of the box, but I was just too small and too weak. When I heard humans passing I mewed, but no one seemed to hear me. I became more and more frightened. Then I heard some more humans and mewed as loudly as I could. I heard lots of things being moved and then the box was opened. There were some teenage humans. One of them lifted me out of the box. They asked the people at all the houses near where they found me, but no one knew me. Then they took me to another house and knocked on the door. A human answered and the teenagers asked if she would take me in. At first she was reluctant as she already had two adult cats an adult dog and a new puppy she had taken in only two weeks before after she was abandoned at Asda by her previous humans. When she looked at me properly she changed her mind. It was because I was found in a cardboard box that had contained a TV, and because my human is Welsh,  that I got my name Seren Teledu.

She put me in a special cat crate and gave me a dish with a small amount of cat food on it. I could not believe my eyes - real food! I gobbled it up as fast as I could in case it disappeared and then sat bolt upright. After a few minutes I remembered that my mum had told me I must wash my face after meals so I quickly cleaned my face and whiskers then I sat up straight again. I was very frightened and very, very tired as I had been in the box for several hours before I was rescued. I was afraid to go to sleep in case it was all a dream. Eventually, I could stay awake no longer and fell over in a heap fast asleep.

When I woke up the nice human showed me where the toilet tray was and then she gave me a small drink of milk. I was still very, very hungry, but she said I could only have tiny meals as it would make me ill to eat too much when I was so very thin. After I had another rest she picked me up and settled me on her knee. She started to stroke me, but it hurt me to be touched except on my head and face and the end of my tail so she just stroked my head and face with one of her fingers. Next day she took me to see the vet. He was very angry that I was so thin, but gave my human advice on how to help me to recover. He said I was between 8 and 12 weeks old.

It has taken me three months to recover from my ordeal. For the first two months my tummy found it very hard to cope with eating proper food. I am growing into a big, strong cat. I am growing my adult teeth. I am learning not to steal food, but I still cannot resist crisps or jam sandwiches. I have a good human, two good cat friends, an old dog who is very comfortable to snuggle up to and a young dog, Minnie Mouse, to play rough and tumble games and chase around the house with.

If you are not sure how to look after a cat please, please check out this site on the web which is run by Cats Protection. It has lots of leaflets on it all about looking after cats and information about important things like neutering so we cannot produce loads more kittens.

If you are unable to keep your cat for some reason, please do not just abandon it or worse still put it in a cardboard box and leave it out with the bins for the cat to be crushed to death in the bin lorry as so nearly happened to me. If you cannot cope with your cat there are lots of cat charities out there that will be only too pleased to rehome your cat for you including the RSPCA and private charities and cat rescue groups. All you need to do is Google Cat Rescue and search in the results for places in your town.

 Not long after the War started she and her brothers and sisters were all evacuated to the country for safety, but their mum missed them so she went and fetched them all back home again. They lived near Daisy Mill (the big Repo TV place) on Stockport Road not far from what is now Longsight Police Station. Daisy Mill was used during the War by the Army Pay Corp and because it was an Army base constant attempts were made by the Germans to bomb it. It was during one of those raids that a bomb landed in MacKenzie Street, just off Northmoor Road, and flattened two terraced houses. That is why when you walk along MacKenzie Street today there are two houses that are completely different to all the rest.

 There was a prisoner of war camp (POW Camp) just behind Daisy Mill and Irene can remember standing at the side of the road watching the prisoners being marched out and down into Manchester to be put on trains to take them to other camps. There was also a POW Camp where Bellevue Speedway is today.

 Where Longsight Police Station is today was a big coal yard with a high wall around it. Coal, along with just about everything else, was rationed during the war and people never had enough. Irene and her brothers and sisters used to take a big Silver Cross pram out at night and go down to the coal yard. Some would climb over into the yard and some would remain with the pram. Those in the yard would throw coal over the wall and the rest would load it into the pram. Lots of people used to steal coal from the yard.

 One night they went to liberate another pram load of coal, but just as they were arriving at the yard the Police launched a raid as they had heard that people were going to be stealing coal that night. Irene and her brothers and sisters ran away as fast as they could. She and one of her sisters had the pram and ran away from their house towards Kirkmanshulme Lane. Back then Longsight Station was there, near to the entrance to the Asda car park. Irene and her sister had the brilliant idea of trying to steal some coal from the station. There were huge piles of coal there for the steam trains. They managed to sneak past the nightwatchman and stole a pram load of best anthracite. This was the best coal there was and during the War it was kept for the trains. When they got home they realised that the coal was in big lumps, far too large for the fireplace in their house. Irene and her brothers and sisters spent the next week sitting out in the yard every evening smashing the coal up into smaller pieces with hammers.

 Irene also recalled that one day she was taken ill and needed emergency surgery on her neck. The ambulance came to collect her and her mother to take her to the hospital. She tells me she was terrified, not about the operation but because they had to drive through Deansgate in the middle of Manchester to reach the hospital and there was a major air raid taking place at the time. She said you could hear the bombs falling all round them and that the ambulance was rocking and shaking with the shock waves from the explosions.

There must be loads of people living around here who can still remember what it was like to be here during the war.

Check out the BBC World War II People’s War web site. Also Imperial War Museum North. Here is a web site about the Manchester blitz.

A couple of people who saw the incident told me that it was a group of youths on bicycles who had done this. They obviously thought it was amusing. If they were caught and made to pay for the damage they have caused I don’t suppose they would find it quite so funny.

Recently the two bins by the underpass at the end of Parry Road suffered the same fate and one of the Council men who was replacing them told me that by the time they have cleared away the mess, repaired the footpath and replaced the bin you don’t get much change out of £300. That money is coming out of our Council Tax payments. No wonder the bill just keeps going up and up when there are idiots who find it funny to destroy property. There was also the cost of the fire brigade having to come out to put out the fire before it spread to any of the adjacent building including the flats next door to the laundrette.

The Council came out this afternoon and cleaned up the mess, cut out the damaged area of tarmac and reinstated the footpath. Whether we will get a replacement bin remains to be seen.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/cbbc/ 

Yesterday the laundrette was closed for business because it had been taken over by the BBC so they could shoot an episode of the kids programme Prank Patrol. This is a programme where they set up a prank for a kid to play on a friend or family member. I don’t know when this episode will be on, but watch out for it. Should be fun.

You can imagine the sort of things you could get up to setting up a prank in a laundrette! The clean up crew from the BBC were there this morning to remove all evidence that they had ever been there and to return the laundrette to its normal pristine self.

Uncle Lindum was desperate to join the Royal Navy and went to the recruiting office and lied about his age. The recruiting officer realised that he was still only a boy and sent him back home. Uncle Lindum still wanted to go to sea and also wanted to do something for the war effort. He eventually managed to find a job as cabin boy on the Merchant Vessel Edwy R Brown.

The MV Edwy R Brown was an oil tanker and Uncle Lindum sailed from Great Britain to Halifax, Nova Scotia where he arrived safely. The ship was filled with clean fuel oil to be brought back to Great Britain and then she had to wait for a convoy to be formed. Ships sailed in convoys because it was safer than sailing alone across the Atlantic during war time. A convoy could only travel as fast as its slowest member and this convoy was a slow convoy. By the night of 17/18th February 1941 the convoy was just south of Iceland and had only to sail for another day or so to be safe. A wolf pack (a group of German u-boats) was lying in wait for them and a number of ships from the convoy were torpedoed and sunk.

Amongst those ships was the MV Edwy R Brown. My Uncle Lindum was just 16 years old when he died, he would have celebrated his 17th birthday in July 1941. Uncle Lindum and his ship mates, along with all merchant seamen and fishermen who died during World War II and who have no grave but the sea are commemorated on the Tower Hill Memorial in London.

 If you want to check out your ancestors who served inthe armed forces or the merchant fleet and who died during the First or Second World War then take a look at the Commonwealth War Graves Commission web site. Many people from India and Pakistan and from the West Indies fought during the Wars and will be commemorated on this web site as well as British people, Canadians, Australians and New Zealanders, in fact, anyone who came from a country that formed part of the old British Empire, now known as the British Commonwealth.

For several days after we saw the hawk hunting the pigeons were keeping a very low profile.

Check out the Hawk and Owl Trust web site for more info on British birds of prey.

Although I only had a quick glimpse of the hawk I suspect that it was a female sparrow hawk.