Deb's Digest
Debbie Atkinson’s family life column, as featured in the Southport Visiter.

Tuesday, 26 February 2008

THE ROOM LIVERPOOL

Are we gluttons for punishment? All in the name of research we visited The Room in Liverpool. What a difference. Same menu but somehow the food was so much better. My crispy duck  was a beautifully cooked duck breast with little shreds of crispy duck between sliver-thin slices of crisp parsnip. I decided I couldn't risk the inch of soup and had hot salmon mousse - a huge improvement.

A horrible virus had me in its grasp for two days and when I tried to get out of bed on Sunday night I felt as though I had bell ringers in my head. Fortunately it was short-lived and I'm still around to tell the tale. A bit of comedy should do the trick and I'm looking forward to seeing French and Saunders at the weekend although our 30 year-old tells us it might be a bit too crude for us. Well if it is, I'll be in the money-back queue - I'm good at that.

I'm rather sorry that my letter to Winner's Dinners saw the light of day last Sunday. It was phrased in language I don't normally use and began "By Gum" - an old Lancashire expression, which the Sunday Times sub-editors saw fit to change to "Bay Gum", an expression I've never heard in my life. When he'd spotted it at the head of the letters column, my husband wanted to know when exactly I'd had my breakdown. I'll have to put down my poison pen for a while I think.

The London son has sorted himself out with a studio flat. It'll seem funny for him to sleep within the same four walls for more than a week at a stretch. He's been so used to camping out in friends' and strangers' spaces. 

Got my tickets to see REM at the Manchester cricket ground in August. We paid extra last time for hospitality tickets and the run of the club house, but since this turned out to be the area furthest from the stage, we reckoned we'd got a bum deal, so we're in the cheapo standing area this time - I may be getting a bit old for this malarky but I keep telling myself that Michael Stipe isn't far off my age and if he can jig around the stage for two hours then the least I can do is stand and watch him.

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