I went stalking (accidentally-on-purpose!)

On Friday, we took the railway from Morecambe to Skipton, a scenic(ish) journey through the Trough of Bowland and the Yorkshire dales. Jim was going to take Lola and her friend to the castle. I was going to have a mosey around town - AND, I half-joked to Jim, stalk Lucy from Attic 24, a mega-successful blog that I dip in and out of occasionally. I knew she lived in Skipton.

I reckoned I had all the information I needed from her blog: She had a private art studio above Coopers Cafe. And she walked along the canal to pick up her children from school.

Now, you have to understand that Lucy is mega-famous in the middle-aged women's world of crochet, baking, house decor and upcycled clothing. I once met two women crocheting by the fire in a youth hostel living room in Arnside. Have you heard of Attic 24? I asked. Ooh yes, they said, suddenly all flustered and excitable. I once saw Lucy at a craft fair and wanted to say 'Hello' but I came over all star-struck and red-faced and couldn't bring myself to go up to her!

So off I set into the town centre from the station along the canal. And what do you know? Within three minutes of walking, without any effort on my part at all, THERE SHE WAS! WALKING RIGHT TOWARDS ME! With her tell-tale red boots and multi-coloured crochet bag!

And what did I do? I came over all star-struck and red-faced! I actually looked away. My head was saying: Talk to her - say something - no, don't - she probably gets people coming up to her all the time - leave her alone - no talk to her - no don't - do - don't - do - don't - do - don't.....

Oh. Too late.

So, what did I do instead? I took this sneaky but pathetic picture of her from behind.



Then my head went: I know - she's probably going to pick her kids up from school - I'll wait here on this bridge for her to come back - then I'll zoom in without her knowing and get a proper full-front photo of her.

So I waited with camera poised. And waited, and waited, and waited. This must be what it's like to be paparazzi, I thought. Ten, twenty, twenty-five minutes passed and still she didn't come back. But I was determined. I stayed put, motionless, staring, camera poised, finger on the zoom.

Until a man sidled up to me. I'd been aware of him watching me the whole time.

You look like you're expecting the QE2 to come sailing round the corner, he said quizzically.

My head went: Shall I explain?-yes, he'll think it's funny - no, he'll think you're weird. No, definitely no.

Well, you never know! I said. And we both went our separate ways.