When you get a message from "gay man's house is still open", I know what he means, from anyone else? I may have been a bit perturbed to say the least.
When I looked at the location on apple maps...... "Fuck me, seriously?"
It is on one of the main arterial routes into Mancunia.
Now this upload is different it was a challenge set by
I like a challenge. Two here for the price of one!
"Through the hole down the side, backdoor open" were my instructions.
Now that is the most realistic door knob I have ever seen, needless to say the door was kicked open. I wasn't handling that and making my own little soldier envious.
We shall follow a route downstairs, then venture up into the dorma roof space, come join me
There be treasure in these parts.
What were you doing in 1977? I got married and moved into our first house.
A souvenir cap from 1994 World Cup
Foodstuff with a sell by date of 2011
A calendar from 1997, a property such as this one, size and location would easily sell for close to £750k, it is one of the unanswered questions, why are properties like this allowed to rot? Complicated probate? no heirs or successors?
Well I found a will from 1994 which clearly details how the spoils of death should be shared out. other documents told me that Robert, is this who lived here? owned several properties in the area out on the rental market, and in '94 he had two brothers. I just can't establish when he died to investigate further. Bugger.
Although the rooms were dark with heavy drapes concealing the contents from the outside world there was no scent of decay, nor wanton tour bus vandalism. that made a refreshing change.
A latecomer to the piano? Though revised, the original cover as this one is dates from 1969.
In 1984, the IRA attempted to assassinate the then Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher, and members of her cabinet. They failed, strange to see a framed picture of Margaret in an Irishman's home. Well at least I haven't stumbled upon a republican army secret weapons stash. So, lets carry on shall we.
Where the good stuff is
The creaking of the stairs in a silent house, ramps up the adrenaline flow. Personally I prefer an upstairs mooch, its more intimate, a part of the house visitors and guests would maybe never have seen.
I love stumbling across vintage photographs, they evoke strong emotions of who why what and where, questions that can't be answered.
is this our man, leading a secret life, scared of his sexuality, ( in a bygone age, in the UK it was illegal to be homosexual, and I guess a lot of men hid their light under a bushel)
This scrap book is one of the best bits of treasure I have ever found. Now 116 years old, the scrap book, simple pleasures amidst the horror of war.
What wonderful handwriting, a skill many have lost, I recall my primary school days, sitting at a desk practicing and practicing "joined up writing".
Mine never looked like this , It was rubbish, and still is. To be honest I can't remember the last time I wrote anything other than birthday and post cards. See, alas it is all about the fingers and keyboards these days.
A vintage keyboard
OOPS!, now where is that plastic purple penis?