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| Polish wingman Kamil Grosicki - terrorising the Preston defence |
Last night I slept in Beverley. It's where I was a sixth former between 1970 and 1972 - pursuing A levels in English, Art and Geography at Beverley Grammar School. It's also where my mother died in 2007.
I was staying with my old friend Tony. He now lives with Pauline following an acrimonious divorce from his former wife. I was the best man at their wedding in the summer of 1988.
Yesterday, we went to see Hull City play Preston North End. Our team hit the woodwork three times and ended up drawing with The Lilywhites - as Preston are known. It was a draw that felt like a defeat.
In the evening, I enjoyed a couple of pints of dark mild beer in "Nellie's" before we went round the corner to the "Maa" curryhouse. It was a tasty meal but the portions were surprisingly small so every morsel was consumed. Then we went home to watch "Match of the Day".
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| The Black Mill on Beverley Westwood I took this picture eight years ago. |
This morning, before showering, I was out of the door with Tony. My walking boots were on and we were bound for The Westwood. It is an area of open common land to the west of the town, given to the townspeople in 1380 by royal decree. It accommodates Beverley race course and Beverley and East Riding Golf Club - the oldest golf club in Yorkshire.
Unfortunately, I had neglected to bring my camera and could have kicked myself because the light of the autumn morning was quite stunning. I missed some great photo opportunities.
Back at Pauline and Tony's house I went upstairs for a shower while he made a full English breakfast and later we chattered some more with Pauline before I drove home - over The Yorkshire Wolds and along to North Cave before meeting the M62 motorway. Over The Ouse Bridge and on to Doncaster via the M18 which in turn leads to the M1 and then the signs say "Sheffield". It is a journey I have done countless times.
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| Tony at 25 - outside our old house at Crookes thirty six years ago |
Apart from the feeling of defeat for your team, it sounds like a soul satisfying visit.
ReplyDeleteIndeed it was Kylie.
DeleteIt's always good to see old friends. "Make new friends, but keep the old; one is silver, the other is gold."
ReplyDeleteThat's a good saying.
DeleteI see co coya has not yet given up. Her/his comments have been appearing on several of the blogs I read, mine including.
ReplyDeleteYes, it's a shame you did not have your camera with you, but you will treasure the time walking with your friend in your mind and heart.
Mostly I am a self-contained person. I do not naturally seek the approbation of others but Tony has remained a special figure in my life as I am to him.
DeleteI haven't popped by your blog lately YP - though I have had a brief time of working in Sheffield and found it delightful to get to know it a little - but it's so delightful to have a few moments catch up and see your wonderful photography and words. I loved your folk song, and what a beautiful rich singing voice you have. A very belated, but happy birthday; may the year ahead bring you much love, joy and delight. Elizabeth S-S
ReplyDeleteHow sweet to hear from you again Elizabeth. Thanks for calling by and leaving such a nice comment. I hope that you and your menfolk are all in good health.
DeleteTony's earring was pretty daring for 1982, wasn't it?! I didn't know any guys with earrings at that point, but then, I'm MUCH MUCH younger than you. :) Maybe some musicians were wearing them back then.
ReplyDeleteSounds like a fun trip, despite the football downers. I hate it when I forget my camera. (Or, as I sometimes do, bring the camera but forget to put the battery in it!)
He was a male nurse at the time working in a cancer hospital. In those days all male nurses were required to wear earrings and develop a mincing walk. Just ask John Gray!
DeleteGood god! I was doing some distracted reading and I thought that you said that, "Last night I slept with Beverley." I just about had a heart attack!
ReplyDeleteWe are also having the most wonderful fall days. I don't think I could live anywhere again where there were not four distinct seasons of the year.
What a mis-reading that was! You should know by now that I am an English gentleman with morals that would make The Pope envious.
DeleteA pleasant catch up it seems. Bit concerned about Beverly, though.
ReplyDelete