10 April 2012

Farewell

Perhaps it's only when you are about to leave something, somewhere or someone that you start to appreciate what is about to be part of your past. Yorkshire - my Yorkshire. Shall I never see your rolling wolds again, your quiet rivers moving perpetually to the vast silted mouth of The Humber - a word that in ancient English simply meant "river". Shall I never see your ancient villages with their medieval stone churches beneath towering sycamore and beech where rooks caw to greet the day? Oh Yorkshire, when I am gone please think of me some times, my sweet, sweet motherland. Home to Captain Cook and Emily Bronte, J.B.Priestley and Ted Hughes, David Hockney and Arthur Scargill, Saint John of Beverley, William Wilberforce, Barbara Hepworth, Henry Brearley and Paul Daniels. Though I am gone you shall liveth for evermore in my mortal heart.

And I shall miss our weather, our unpredictable weather with blue and grey skies, sunshine and snow,  that Forrest Gump chocolate box quality. And I shall miss steak pies from Sean's, "Eastenders", fish and chip specials from "Three Steps" and long walks in The Peak District with camera in hand and the banter in our local and visits to Hull to watch my beloved Tigers. Vegetables growing in our garden. There is plenty that I shall miss.

However, there's plenty I shall be glad to leave behind. The careerism of professional politicians with their weasel words. Reality TV shows and "talent shows" and Simon Cowell and Jordan (aka Katie Price) and "The Sun" newspaper and people rushing their lives away and tattoos. And I won't miss our monstrous supermarkets and our crowded motorways or graffiti or litter or clusters of people standing outside public buildings like lepers under clouds of blue grey tobacco smoke. Nor shall I miss taxi drivers or potholes in the road, drivers on mobile phones, dog dirt on verges or unsolicited calls from money hungry call centres. No I won't miss any of that.

Please don't think I'm having second thoughts. Just pensive that's all. We are the new pilgrims aboard a metaphorical "Mayflower" - bound for a new life in a new world - Blogland - where all of our dreams will surely come true and we can live in peace like our new national anthem says - "far far away from the mad rushing crowd."

I might not get to blog again until I reach Blogland though there may be some spare time when several of us are in transit at Dubai Airport - one of the world's great new crossroads. All human life passes through there. I trust that all emigrants are ready to go and that  private arrangements have been made to get you to your previously nominated international airport. As I said before - tickets will be available at the main information desk. All you need is your passport and luggage. I'm so looking forward to meeting everybody on Thursday when we'll assemble round the social club pool for nibbles, informal drinks and the very start of our new life together in Blogland. Afterwards, there's the arm wrestling tournament which should be a load of fun.
Blogland

10 comments:

  1. I was hoping that the delightful portrait of Mr. Spock was by your fair hand!

    If you try to knock me you'll get mopped,
    I'll stir fry you in my wok,
    Your knees start shakin' and your fingers pop,
    Like a pinch on the neck from Mr. Spock.
    (Beastie Boys - Intergalactic)

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  2. ARCTIC FOX "If I chose to paint Spock the result would be far better than that" (Yorkshire Pudding - Nongalactic) See you at Manky Airport tomorrow.
    EVERYBODY ELSE - OF COURSE I REALISE WHY SO FAR YOU'RE NOT LEAVING COMMENTS AFTER THIS FAREWELL POST. LAST MINUTE PACKING AND FINAL GOODBYES - PERFECTLY UNDERSTANDABLE.

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  3. i knew you'd be impressed with me introducing you to a new genre of poet!

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  4. Last minute packing, YP? Too right. I'm still battling with Keith over leaving NASA behind! - and his cap...

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  5. I'm at the airport... departure lounge at the moment. Free internet. See you soon everyone!

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  6. A few pre-programmed posts left on my blog, now just killing time in Madrid airport, spray-painting "Free Catalonia" in the airport loos - but the signal on this smart-phone I've "borrowed" doesn't seem to be much good, so I'll get off now... see you soon.

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  7. Hi All.
    Well the day has arrived - Yippeeeee !!!. Goodbye England hullo Blogland. Arriving Manchester 1200-hrs - I’m traveling very light nothing to declare except:-
    1 bottle opener.
    6 packets of home brew kit.
    24-feet of copper pipe [To set up ‘still’].
    Book on gardening.
    Book on chicken husbandry.
    Box of kitchen utensils [plus wok]
    My bow and quiver of arrows [crossbow as well].
    Coconut cracker.
    Assortment of caps and hats and shorts

    No going back now I’m committed - My garage sale and house sale items all gone, money donated to charities. In Blogland what do I need money for?.
    
I like our new Anthem - See you all soon - Mick

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  8. Trbulnce ovr java sea hpe i mk it to blglnd KdC (sent from my iphone)

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  9. Oh Mick, you didn't have to get a book about chickens. John Gray is a poultry expert, and I know a few things about them, too. I'm bringing a dozen eggs and a broody hen. Looks like I should have packed some Sloughhouse hops, too.

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  10. How CAN you leave Yorkshire and all you've described (you missed the fish'n chips by the way) even if it is for Blogland. Here am I pining away for the moors, the stone walls , the chalk cliffs and caves, all the wild flowers, the wolds farms and their dear old grumpy farmers, not to mention the roly- poly sheep whose wool hangs scraggily with mud from the rain.
    It's raining here today, with a good old English type rain, just wet, wet, wet.
    Just don't get sunburned and remember sunshine day-in and day-out really does get boring!

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Mr Pudding welcomes all genuine comments - even those with which he disagrees. However, puerile or abusive comments from anonymous contributors will continue to be given the short shrift they deserve. Any spam comments that get through Google/Blogger defences will also be quickly deleted.

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