tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-138835842024-03-19T09:40:54.896+00:00 Yorkshire Pudding"O God, I could be bounded in a nut shell and count myself
a king of infinite space,
were it not that I have bad dreams."
- Hamlet Act II scene iiYorkshire Puddinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06019673884543913089noreply@blogger.comBlogger4599125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883584.post-7073045385809334262024-03-18T22:27:00.000+00:002024-03-18T22:27:20.291+00:0073<p style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBnk0EUSRsSDWIDb98ML5K7aQCVB5cA6P-9T66db3GSI6BUvIhUIOgOJpAhr8T2itJkNunQ0ABhvECHXPSLazsXFhJ_qkIlIoPRSaA7MsUhZIv2IYVMY_WVKp8RRDJvVeSgEAWMqgplelQnbhyChYpoJJC3ncLez-u8QaaiFGPMAeZdcZTvrtp/s1280/Steve%20Harley.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1280" height="354" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBnk0EUSRsSDWIDb98ML5K7aQCVB5cA6P-9T66db3GSI6BUvIhUIOgOJpAhr8T2itJkNunQ0ABhvECHXPSLazsXFhJ_qkIlIoPRSaA7MsUhZIv2IYVMY_WVKp8RRDJvVeSgEAWMqgplelQnbhyChYpoJJC3ncLez-u8QaaiFGPMAeZdcZTvrtp/w629-h354/Steve%20Harley.jpg" width="629" /></a></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">I was at university in Scotland between September 1973 and December 1977. Bang in the middle of that time, a song was released by Steve Harley and Cockney Rebel. It made Number 1 in the British charts and for many weeks was played continuously in the student union's pub - "The Allangrange".</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">The song was "Make Me Smile (Come Up and See Me)" and if a film was ever made of my university days and that particular time in my life, that single would have to be the theme song. Admittedly, such a prospect seems highly unlikely unless I become a mass murderer or, more likely, assassinate Boris Johnson with a cricket bat.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">I had never really analysed why I liked that song so much. After all, there's a lot of bitterness in the lyrics. Steve Harley was addressing the original members of Cockney Rebel with whom there had been a breaking up in the summer of 1974 but at the time we never knew of that background. With its pauses, its guitar solo and its Mae West-like top line it was a curiously catchy song.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Sadly, Steve Harley died yesterday morning at the age of 73. It wasn't drink, drugs or a rock star lifestyle that did for him but a cancer that he had been battling with for a few short months. Now, as the song said, "There's nothing left/All gone and run away" and Steve Harley is no more. But behind, as well as his grieving family, he leaves an army of people from my generation who danced to "Make Me Smile (Come Up and See Me)" without fully understanding what it meant though it truly did make us smile.</span></p>
<div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/dAoaVU3-ve0?si=bN9VkshIHl0LU7r1" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div>Yorkshire Puddinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06019673884543913089noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883584.post-41195150938050523852024-03-17T23:30:00.000+00:002024-03-18T00:26:50.485+00:00Easy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHU4Smdv_K0osChwVRCsxXxGeaBWL2BxDlzc5MFCj6OPaKQdmdp4V72Q7BUeFC6H7QTgvqYlnfmQYy6sQ9NDbPVADHNltORt8i-6ufNbvHfWQT3XNLbSgeRW-w7XKvcHavFaPe12KYI3-_9jDFvIS2MNqUn5dl0xf5X1M-Dpk0AzSTILH7p50q/s630/Dumb%20quiztime.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="322" data-original-width="630" height="315" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHU4Smdv_K0osChwVRCsxXxGeaBWL2BxDlzc5MFCj6OPaKQdmdp4V72Q7BUeFC6H7QTgvqYlnfmQYy6sQ9NDbPVADHNltORt8i-6ufNbvHfWQT3XNLbSgeRW-w7XKvcHavFaPe12KYI3-_9jDFvIS2MNqUn5dl0xf5X1M-Dpk0AzSTILH7p50q/w617-h315/Dumb%20quiztime.png" width="617" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Acme; font-size: large;">Some visitors have been struggling with questions from "The Hammer and Pincers" pub quiz so this week's quiz is easier. It gives you a chance to feel better about yourself. Who knows - if you really concentrate - you might be able to score ten out of ten! Once again, answers will be given in the "Comments" section but no peeping!</span></div><p><span style="font-family: Merriweather; font-size: medium;">1. Who is the current president of the USA?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: Merriweather; font-size: medium;">2. Wine is generally sold in two colours. One of them is red. What is the other colour?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: Merriweather; font-size: medium;">3. Name the country at the southern tip of Africa.</span></p><span style="font-family: Merriweather; font-size: medium;">4. What is the capital of Sweden? (a) Bujumbura (b) Ouagadougou or (c) Stockholm</span><div><span style="font-family: Merriweather; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Merriweather; font-size: medium;">5. "Oui" means "yes" but in which European language?</span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxvdXuC-eMC57zt-22Q1Bxo0fmkKXDNViUkR01E57Rf6fyg7dyOhN1m_pjl0rJnaBmn9RguwGkD9HbCgO5fEV5EdfopPoA4UpcvXHgM_TENab8_OdYpLm8NQqt_qzRD3CC0Yna9XtM_2OTw3TetmRi03RreQkxRNNL5DKQUkEo1xHkAQlIRyaz/s797/OUI.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="496" data-original-width="797" height="398" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxvdXuC-eMC57zt-22Q1Bxo0fmkKXDNViUkR01E57Rf6fyg7dyOhN1m_pjl0rJnaBmn9RguwGkD9HbCgO5fEV5EdfopPoA4UpcvXHgM_TENab8_OdYpLm8NQqt_qzRD3CC0Yna9XtM_2OTw3TetmRi03RreQkxRNNL5DKQUkEo1xHkAQlIRyaz/w638-h398/OUI.png" width="638" /></a></div></div><div><span style="font-family: Merriweather; font-size: medium;">6. 50/50 question. Which sauce is traditionally served with roast pork - apple or tartare?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Merriweather; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Merriweather; font-size: medium;">7. ANAGRAM of GOD - Clue - it's a domesticated animal.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Merriweather; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Merriweather; font-size: medium;">8. Standing on the Yarra River, which big Australian city beginning with the letter M is the capital of the state of Victoria?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Merriweather; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Merriweather; font-size: medium;">9. Mathematical question. How many eights are there in 56?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Merriweather; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Merriweather; font-size: medium;">10. BRAIN TEASER Last year was 2023. This year is 2024. What will next year be?</span></div>Yorkshire Puddinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06019673884543913089noreply@blogger.com42tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883584.post-89803669558600309792024-03-16T23:58:00.001+00:002024-03-16T23:58:28.080+00:00Imperfect<p style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg3yhQ_OpBmrhHJMFYPEzA2L6pSviMz2vVg14Dp_7bpJa7k8bhMSH8FyoRpQhUuEsfGRCo1B85eZHidlOv610FScMKXvRHKnJwFWrSszZZq7q3hAc0AX7UNtxHgDZhu3oaw6y4EYTgAZbcbIKqPGbyZ7W4yz_3qXvbRvQDRq_GzSXhW8BP_Sgr/s1400/Superman.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1400" data-original-width="1400" height="506" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg3yhQ_OpBmrhHJMFYPEzA2L6pSviMz2vVg14Dp_7bpJa7k8bhMSH8FyoRpQhUuEsfGRCo1B85eZHidlOv610FScMKXvRHKnJwFWrSszZZq7q3hAc0AX7UNtxHgDZhu3oaw6y4EYTgAZbcbIKqPGbyZ7W4yz_3qXvbRvQDRq_GzSXhW8BP_Sgr/w506-h506/Superman.jpeg" width="506" /></a></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Superman had several special powers - from X-ray vision to the power of flight and from superhuman strength to enhanced hearing. More than that, he was an all round good guy who stood on the side of the righteous against the powers of evil.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">I used to think that I was bit like Superman as I never seemed to get ill and could do almost anything that I set my mind to but recently I have been increasingly aware of my </span><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">frailties. I am not really like Superman at all. I am just another seventy year old guy and my days of invulnerability are over. It is time to hang up my red cape.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">You may recall me recounting my February visit to Sandy Denny's grave in south London. What I didn't say then is that my left foot began to give me some gyp that very day. There was discomfort in my heel and over the next couple of weeks that mild gyp turned into actual pain that caused me to limp.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">I hadn't consciously hurt my left foot and what I thought it might be was a touch of gout in that area. After all I know what gout feels like because over the past twenty years I have infrequently suffered from it in both of my big toes and the balls of my feet.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">When you have an attack of gout, it's as if it creates a strange tension in your body as a whole - not just in the affected area. Gout comes and then it goes.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">In the last three weeks I haven't been able to get out and about on my customary country walks because of the heel pain . However, today I thought I would take a two mile circular walk just to test it out. I drove to Shotts Lane on the edge of the city and then followed a route I have taken <a href="https://beefgravy.blogspot.com/2015/03/walk.html">many times</a>.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Although I wasn't limping I could still feel discomfort in my left foot with every step I took. Normally I can walk for five, ten or fifteen miles without feeling a thing. The idea of not being able to do that is a little depressing as this has become the activity I enjoy the most.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">I don't suppose that Superman ever suffered from gouty pains and twinges that made him limp. Come to think of it, did he ever have a bad cold or toothache? Did he get sunburnt or neglect to pay his home insurance? In short, were there ever times when he was not super?</span></span></p>Yorkshire Puddinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06019673884543913089noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883584.post-45797180438677694722024-03-15T23:25:00.000+00:002024-03-15T23:25:20.212+00:00Diane<p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKqSEkjQ9M42PLLhfP8IUzA2qASdVfR3k6GndrEUiKkpt0ZnU8ElHcceB9E6S37w68L3WOrU0FSxkodd1XlvS5a5qHkMCPaPRwSgF5UEngn3OsrMzkGJUUrKFvrjsqDmTHQ0CosOS5QpqnJY1152X57jvgElUNzpdnE7f0XbOCkgkSt-ACflNH/s480/Diane%20Abbott.webp" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="480" height="414" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKqSEkjQ9M42PLLhfP8IUzA2qASdVfR3k6GndrEUiKkpt0ZnU8ElHcceB9E6S37w68L3WOrU0FSxkodd1XlvS5a5qHkMCPaPRwSgF5UEngn3OsrMzkGJUUrKFvrjsqDmTHQ0CosOS5QpqnJY1152X57jvgElUNzpdnE7f0XbOCkgkSt-ACflNH/w661-h414/Diane%20Abbott.webp" width="661" /></a></p><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><div style="text-align: justify;">In 1953, Diane Abbott was born just eleven days before me. In 1987, she became Britain's first ever black female Member of Parliament, representing the London constituency of Hackney North for the Labour Party. Like Frank Hester, I have never met Diane Abbott in person though from afar I have admired her tenacity and her willingness to fight for worthy causes.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Who is Frank Hester you may be asking. Well he is a wealthy tech-savvy businessman specialising in servicing our National Health Service. The ruling Tory or Conservative party have awarded him several lucrative contracts and he in turn has donated millions of pounds to The Tory Party. If that sounds dodgy then it probably is. A large slice of his wealth came from contracts awarded during the COVID pandemic. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">At a work meeting held in 2019, it appears that Hester, the Tories' biggest donor said that looking at Abbott makes you “want to hate all black women” and then added the MP “should be shot”. Hester does not deny making these vile remarks.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Questioned very recently about this episode, Hester said he “accepts that he was rude about Diane Abbott in a private meeting several years ago but his criticism had nothing to do with her gender nor colour of skin”.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Nothing to do with her gender nor the colour of her skin? That is ridiculous! He used the word "women" and the word "black" and now he tries to water it down by saying he was just being "rude"!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">It took over twenty four hours for our current prime minister to admit, through a spokesperson, that Hester's comment was both racist and sexist but nothing was made of the sinister add-on that she "should be shot".</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Furthermore, this year Hester donated £15 million to The Tories and they have refused to return it. So that's okay then - fighting a general election with dirty money! In addition, it is worth noting that our current prime minister has also enjoyed some free flights in Hester's helicopter.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">This all stinks and it is more than unfair on Diane Abbott. The remarks are downright dangerous. A lily-livered apology cannot negate what Hester said in the first place. That would be like Putin apologising for what he has done to Ukraine. Hollow. Bizarrely, the Tories gave arrogant Hester a richly unmerited medal in 2015 - the O.B.E. (Order of the British Empire) - presumably for services to his own bank account.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSfRQhtiaA2K2CMaaQAb8pAqmN7rwhMu1TTXzlNVE7NABwlkpfwO1miuVTgTkvpW-9V6jTGQdaAFl1iFLAyXFPcl9bg_6z_mgbd_GlA_dznz8SO4C_EwxzP8V3enSmiWaz4onYMIzs55_IwgXJTWUBytPsLeKD93SbQa3IGj-cHisEy5PtkOSs/s702/DUMB%20AD.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="702" data-original-width="535" height="488" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSfRQhtiaA2K2CMaaQAb8pAqmN7rwhMu1TTXzlNVE7NABwlkpfwO1miuVTgTkvpW-9V6jTGQdaAFl1iFLAyXFPcl9bg_6z_mgbd_GlA_dznz8SO4C_EwxzP8V3enSmiWaz4onYMIzs55_IwgXJTWUBytPsLeKD93SbQa3IGj-cHisEy5PtkOSs/w372-h488/DUMB%20AD.png" width="372" /></a></div></span>Yorkshire Puddinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06019673884543913089noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883584.post-6826299707872396832024-03-14T21:41:00.002+00:002024-03-15T20:04:13.760+00:00Elk<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtfoG1kw9rQ8UStrXlAc75FtYAkHeIdVe0i80x1AKRbR4RqcO8raa4t9IaG51S90tCgj5B-70qaMXnbF1JEMjgPt0TgqqnyDVM3yuk8IasaeNFxJQgA_Ph0Eu2YQjvOk0puHQulsoVEtxkg79wfunt_dP5Ty7Wq8B12LPf5D4pKQjJIqks1i3B/s1075/Elk%20City%20sign.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="672" data-original-width="1075" height="397" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtfoG1kw9rQ8UStrXlAc75FtYAkHeIdVe0i80x1AKRbR4RqcO8raa4t9IaG51S90tCgj5B-70qaMXnbF1JEMjgPt0TgqqnyDVM3yuk8IasaeNFxJQgA_Ph0Eu2YQjvOk0puHQulsoVEtxkg79wfunt_dP5Ty7Wq8B12LPf5D4pKQjJIqks1i3B/w636-h397/Elk%20City%20sign.png" width="636" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Every state in The United States has its own official song. I have been listening to some of them recently and reading their stirring lyrics. Of course people from around the world are familiar with a good bunch of the fifty states - including California, Alaska, Texas and Florida but some other states are easily forgotten, more obscure. They include Idaho up in the north west but many miles from The Pacific Ocean.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">In terms of land area, Idaho is a little smaller than The United Kingdom with a population of just under two million. In America it is often known as The Potato State but another nickname is The Gem State - both for obvious reasons. Idaho has various state parks and boasts some of the wildest natural areas in the entire nation.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">As regular visitors to this blog know, I am geographically inquisitive and rather than focusing on Idaho as a whole, I decided to dig a little deeper and picked a small settlement in the northern heart of the state called Elk City. It is located roughly at the tip of the gunman's rifle in the map shown below</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwJgDsrA7GfKJxuE46WL0JkESZW6xhGzxjdQ4J-CQQbLF6VihkBGn7UGB-CGB9nFaKGO6aeF0YYckt0tugDSFbYjL20mHo5Shqk1Z-ohjWadn2MM_yocKOWl9FfcVDRUX5pwiwO-WXA9INDsmQcC-kUgD6VrKPMxn8LOwYbJbQ6FtoGIXyrpPP/s1024/Idaho%20map.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="647" height="852" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwJgDsrA7GfKJxuE46WL0JkESZW6xhGzxjdQ4J-CQQbLF6VihkBGn7UGB-CGB9nFaKGO6aeF0YYckt0tugDSFbYjL20mHo5Shqk1Z-ohjWadn2MM_yocKOWl9FfcVDRUX5pwiwO-WXA9INDsmQcC-kUgD6VrKPMxn8LOwYbJbQ6FtoGIXyrpPP/w538-h852/Idaho%20map.jpg" width="538" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Elk City did not exist until the 1860's when it became the centre of a minor goldrush. Many of those who arrived were Chinese but later the mining activity was dominated by white miners and panners seeking fortunes. Elk City serviced their needs as they fanned out to the nearby mountains. By the nineteen thirties the gold boom was more or less over. Today, the remote settlement has a population of only 170 but some gold is still found in the region. By the way, the last eighteen miles of the D14 road into Elk City from the west were not paved until 1980.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">The pictures that accompany this blogpost were all snipped from Google Streetview imagery. Actually, coverage in this remote area is surprisingly incomplete with only the main road through Elk City going blue when you move the little golden man over the map.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><div style="text-align: justify;">I would love to make my way to Elk City but I don't suppose I ever will. I would stay at the "Elk City Hotel" shown below:-</div></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggOfTU2h__UmvOE4g3VbaCyJeblIMHsIVv5cgY9VUPw1vB1pjVnJCdnfIamMvJWjhpQCI3RNlLd3DIMKAhs7rZGYLlkOu9QZPB7qwK7fgwF-p3c6smPyOTAQK8kLpUGixFZq_CsiftPdeOHPXOJLJPimErKaSfwf2yFDVnGMKdJBF_H1rV1laD/s974/elkcity%20hotel.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="579" data-original-width="974" height="378" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggOfTU2h__UmvOE4g3VbaCyJeblIMHsIVv5cgY9VUPw1vB1pjVnJCdnfIamMvJWjhpQCI3RNlLd3DIMKAhs7rZGYLlkOu9QZPB7qwK7fgwF-p3c6smPyOTAQK8kLpUGixFZq_CsiftPdeOHPXOJLJPimErKaSfwf2yFDVnGMKdJBF_H1rV1laD/w639-h378/elkcity%20hotel.png" width="639" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><div style="text-align: justify;">Of this establishment, a 2013 Trip Advisor contributor wrote: </div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>"They are not the Ritz, nor do they claim to be. It is the only functioning hotel in the city. The staff is super attentive. The room was clean. In fact my husband lost a bottle top and in his search for it he looked all around the kitchen even under the the refrigerator. It was very clean even there. Not even dust. This room could stand some remodeling. At the very least a coat of paint. The couch must have been replaced since the previous reviewer. We were tickled pink to find that it had recliners at both ends. The TV reception was fine. We didn't really have a lot of time for TV. This area is magnificent. The beauty around there is breathtaking. If you go make sure to take some drives around the area. We drove over the mountain to Selway Falls. The road is unpaved. It was only really rough for a couple of miles. The beauty abounds on the entire drive. There are two places on the drive where you feel like the king of the mountain as you can see both valleys at the same time. Elk City, Idaho is a very beautiful setting. All of the people we met there were very pleasant and helpful. We hope to go back again soon. There are so many more roads to traverse."</i></div></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhru7nhVYOisfElqb91UrGiIMloghfNFxvOCSaDU7uf1OQZRZ-wkSd03DZd4J-q9-oQAUrrwx3SDR4PUvbST3OvyKLF7JkaR4dxd5qPp8kl322Y4i695grhgReLnQK0jaRrr_9LSkuPxgbW6TocOwq6JbRBksI3yyaEcA3n2-g3GMA-XKwxMb5M/s1281/Houses%20in%20Elk%20City.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="806" data-original-width="1281" height="406" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhru7nhVYOisfElqb91UrGiIMloghfNFxvOCSaDU7uf1OQZRZ-wkSd03DZd4J-q9-oQAUrrwx3SDR4PUvbST3OvyKLF7JkaR4dxd5qPp8kl322Y4i695grhgReLnQK0jaRrr_9LSkuPxgbW6TocOwq6JbRBksI3yyaEcA3n2-g3GMA-XKwxMb5M/w647-h406/Houses%20in%20Elk%20City.png" width="647" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Acme;">Homes by Main Street, Elk City</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">The little city still has its own post office so if I was staying in Elk I might mosey down there to post a few postcards. I guess it remains an important link to the outside world for those who dwell hereabouts.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil6Y1mod448gOq6-HIXOd2a32t_mxEM7vY1fGpySh5JLoN67P11nvHJZccFJp09b_cdTSA9w36g7GLSg_No6LMLdrAcYrWVfECZ4GGS07Ep1FKhBWa0g1QpgGvBZoYlzk4jsPp72R8WLRpbHFb0CjjY8hCtRfkWt0c9f4-RDQgoheWNSSZfVmW/s938/elk%20city%20post%20office.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="649" data-original-width="938" height="447" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil6Y1mod448gOq6-HIXOd2a32t_mxEM7vY1fGpySh5JLoN67P11nvHJZccFJp09b_cdTSA9w36g7GLSg_No6LMLdrAcYrWVfECZ4GGS07Ep1FKhBWa0g1QpgGvBZoYlzk4jsPp72R8WLRpbHFb0CjjY8hCtRfkWt0c9f4-RDQgoheWNSSZfVmW/w646-h447/elk%20city%20post%20office.png" width="646" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">And finally, I know that you are keen to hear the Idaho state song. It is called "Here We Have Idaho":-</span><p></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">VERSE 1</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">You’ve heard of the wonders our land does possess,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Its beautiful valleys and hills.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">The majestic forests where nature abounds,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">We love every nook and rill</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">CHORUS</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">And here we have Idaho,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Winning her way to fame.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Silver and gold in the sunlight blaze,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">And romance lies in her name.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Singing, we’re singing of you,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Ah, proudly too. All our lives thru,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">We’ll go singing, singing of you,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Singing of Idaho.</span></div><p></p>
<div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/VRny-qoLBC8?si=2Yq_pwTwoyvJAJ_9" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div>Yorkshire Puddinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06019673884543913089noreply@blogger.com35tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883584.post-90353512307161370492024-03-13T23:47:00.000+00:002024-03-13T23:47:51.363+00:00Childcare<p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijbXR2yaZcBV8U4g8cviicdeHabtz8bvFYrS3TEhOpV5h0xXnOaHZCgby-9gBQ6c_6OIQTvXNVRCI8p8fyv0ffZoKES5kyNcSZNc-qwVmkCD4i1tf-fpdMNVJbA8UNS8hupovq6UYJ3uuSId4QOnR4rye9L95z-sLAcYGz_gQ-m9iJMAn5eBJl/s1024/Grandpa.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="547" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijbXR2yaZcBV8U4g8cviicdeHabtz8bvFYrS3TEhOpV5h0xXnOaHZCgby-9gBQ6c_6OIQTvXNVRCI8p8fyv0ffZoKES5kyNcSZNc-qwVmkCD4i1tf-fpdMNVJbA8UNS8hupovq6UYJ3uuSId4QOnR4rye9L95z-sLAcYGz_gQ-m9iJMAn5eBJl/w547-h547/Grandpa.jpg" width="547" /></a></div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Our lovely daughter Frances has just landed another job. Now a mother to two beautiful little girls, she was laid off last summer when her previous company was bought out by a bigger American-based company operating in the same field. </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Like her previous firm, the new one is involved in servicing and supporting recruitment agencies. I don't fully understand it all but most of the work is computer-based.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">She will be working four days a week - mostly from home but one day a week will be spent down in London and perhaps once a month, she will have to travel up to Glasgow where the company's main office is located.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">The salary package is generous but in her field she is both capable and knowledgeable and the new company needed someone with her skills. As luck would have it, the new business's London arm currently consists of three people who were all in her previous company.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">As women all over the world have discovered, it is not easy to maintain a career when you are also the mother of small children. There's a lot of balancing to be done and of course in the western world at least, childcare costs can be horrendous. If the truth be known, Frances would much prefer to be a stay-at-home mum but the pressures of modern living seem to oblige most women to get back to work as soon as they can.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Besides, Shirley and I are here and most weeks Frances's mother-in-law will be around too. Such back up can provide a vital lifeline, making a return to work more possible.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Phoebe already goes to nursery school three days a week and we look after her every Thursday but soon we will be playing a bigger caring role with Baby Margot before she is ready to attend the same nursery school. </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">As I said to Frances the other day, we are happy to look after our granddaughters and in fact consider this role to be a privilege. It's a type of team work and we do not resent our future involvement even though it will make us less free to get away from home whenever we want to go. The bottom line is that we love them.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">When I was a lad, my mother was mostly at home though she supplemented the family income by teaching adult evening classes - specialising in "mixed crafts" - including leather work, glove making, basketry, embroidery and lampshade making. She was very talented. </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">My three brothers and I did not attend any kind of nursery school because there wasn't one and there was no extended family support either because my father's parents were both dead and our maternal grandmother lived up in Newcastle.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">The world is different now. Probably more than ever before, we have got to pull together.</span></p>Yorkshire Puddinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06019673884543913089noreply@blogger.com54tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883584.post-19579025260823972882024-03-12T21:06:00.000+00:002024-03-12T21:06:10.581+00:00Yassou!<p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcb3ceWTLEtBEyF-AzYk8IlKGOH8Utnf6ZtVbzrBEdIC8XiHJG011vI1L9DXBLMqHXf3V13GmwcGzJAQ4PYrykaiv4I4e2xyONiw9Ndw_JF3h6cptfB44fKt9Zd3phJKSahu6ThYU7JC4339ww9IUju9E_ugLunkIKZTUswLiFhEw7oqaEIRW9/s976/GREECE.webp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="549" data-original-width="976" height="355" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcb3ceWTLEtBEyF-AzYk8IlKGOH8Utnf6ZtVbzrBEdIC8XiHJG011vI1L9DXBLMqHXf3V13GmwcGzJAQ4PYrykaiv4I4e2xyONiw9Ndw_JF3h6cptfB44fKt9Zd3phJKSahu6ThYU7JC4339ww9IUju9E_ugLunkIKZTUswLiFhEw7oqaEIRW9/w632-h355/GREECE.webp" width="632" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Acme;">The Greek Debt Crisis in 2013</span></div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">At lunchtime today, I dropped Shirley off at the "Age Concern" charity shop where she volunteers twice a week and headed back home. As there was an empty parking space close by, I called in at our local post office to post a couple of items and buy some books of postage stamps. They are going up again next month.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Leaving the post office and heading back to Clint, I decided to do something I had not done in quite a while - buy my lunch from "Neptune's" fish and chip shop. They used to do a great lunchtime deal - £3 for mini fish and chips with mushy peas.. Of course that particular treat has also gone up.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Waiting for my battered fish to fry, I got talking to the couple who now run the establishment. They are in their late forties and came to England back in 2013 when the Greek economy was on its knees. They arrived with two young children and headed up to Sheffield where they had a connection with another Greek family. That was eleven years ago.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Their children settled into school here and now their daughter is at university. Their son hopes to follow her. He is now eighteen and plans to pursue a law degree.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">The couple spoke warmly about how they'd been welcomed in this city and how neighbours and new friends had been so kind to them. They also spoke of how proud they are of their kids and how pleased they have been with their schooling. Though the husband and wife team still pine for their homeland, they are happy here and have no plans to return to Greece except for holidays.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">It was so nice to hear their positivity and I could have stayed chatting to them all afternoon but I had a battered cod fish to eat, mushy peas and a huge pile of chips <i>(American: fries)</i>. Actually, there were so many chips that I saved most of them in a casserole dish and this evening we had them with our evening meal. I tossed the cold chips in a little rapeseed oil and spread them on a baking tray before heating them for twenty minutes in the oven. They turned out perfectly.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">It had been very nice to hear an immigrant story that was not wet with tears - nor pulsing with underlying resentment. They had made their brave move and then made the best of it. It would not surprise me if their two children now speak with Yorkshire accents.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">"Yassou!" I said as I left. It means "Good health!"</span></p>Yorkshire Puddinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06019673884543913089noreply@blogger.com35tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883584.post-24693387073494536072024-03-11T23:27:00.000+00:002024-03-11T23:27:57.791+00:00Quiztime<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWTfkq5DNGhTyTTaVVhS7K4yzJU28eJLVmu7L6fOWuC6xIZAbCzjbkWiu9U774NZWam_ZOURRjCt99nmRCtJ955MqWSFqXGysGYMrItlolwHpE68cWSyfBn603VVBlbNaCY9hKh6CmOlcmZPcurl_3kiXwbQUKUUxp7EWWuU65U6bQsispkbHR/s1052/QUIZTIME%20again.jpg" style="font-family: Acme; font-size: x-large; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="423" data-original-width="1052" height="255" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWTfkq5DNGhTyTTaVVhS7K4yzJU28eJLVmu7L6fOWuC6xIZAbCzjbkWiu9U774NZWam_ZOURRjCt99nmRCtJ955MqWSFqXGysGYMrItlolwHpE68cWSyfBn603VVBlbNaCY9hKh6CmOlcmZPcurl_3kiXwbQUKUUxp7EWWuU65U6bQsispkbHR/w634-h255/QUIZTIME%20again.jpg" width="634" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Acme; font-size: x-large;">It's time to settle down in "The Hammer and Pincers" for yet another Sunday pub quiz. Has everybody got their preferred alcoholic beverages? Mary and Steve - please belt up! Right, here we go. Answers given in the "Comments" section and remember - You cannot cheat yourself!</span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family: Merriweather; font-size: medium;">1. Name one of the two South American countries that are landlocked.</span><div><span style="font-family: Merriweather; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Merriweather; font-size: medium;">2. In which Middle Eastern country was the first F1 Grand Prix held this year?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Merriweather; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Merriweather; font-size: medium;">3. Which imperial measurement in equal to 30.48 centimetres?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Merriweather; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: Merriweather; font-size: medium;">4. In which part of the human body will you find the scaphoid, lunate and triquetrum bones?</span><div><span style="font-family: Merriweather; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Merriweather; font-size: medium;">5. Which well known British musician worked with the lyricist Tim Rice to produce the songs that appear in "The Lion King" musical?</span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdWSUMv2zWXlKn34SPQjiLKYC297sPAk7gO6I34JVnVSi7twqlp5yQSyC5my7DUB74XqvXPDy5XFfFjr6tAjziRXoTOfhFrwA7lC7KaTUwf13Tui3jJ23w1gA6DXEtvQ3hLIdXSpznQ46REYIqCt1Qd_hy4Mn_PdWNHIYch6URl0kqlW9ANcvx/s1200/Lion%20KIng.webp" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="1200" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdWSUMv2zWXlKn34SPQjiLKYC297sPAk7gO6I34JVnVSi7twqlp5yQSyC5my7DUB74XqvXPDy5XFfFjr6tAjziRXoTOfhFrwA7lC7KaTUwf13Tui3jJ23w1gA6DXEtvQ3hLIdXSpznQ46REYIqCt1Qd_hy4Mn_PdWNHIYch6URl0kqlW9ANcvx/w620-h310/Lion%20KIng.webp" width="620" /></a></div></div><div><span style="font-family: Merriweather; font-size: medium;">6. Which American film star was married to Madonna for four years in the 1980's?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Merriweather; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Merriweather; font-size: medium;">7. Give the name of the French-made guided missile that means "flying fish" in French? </span></div><div><span style="font-family: Merriweather; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Merriweather; font-size: medium;">8. What was the name of the dragon voiced by Benedict Cumberbatch in Peter Jackson's film trilogy based on "The Hobbit" by J.R.R.Tolkien?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Merriweather; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: Merriweather; font-size: medium;">9. TRUE or FALSE? ‘The great fish moved silently through the night water, propelled by short sweeps of its crescent tail.’ is the first line of ‘The Old Man and the Sea’ by Ernest Hemingway.<br /></span><div><span style="font-family: Merriweather; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Merriweather; font-size: medium;">10. ANAGRAM. Using these letters work out the title of a successful hit single by The Beatles: </span><span style="font-family: Merriweather; font-size: large;"> <span style="color: #444444;"><span style="background-color: white;"><b>NO WIDTH STATUS</b></span></span></span></div></div>Yorkshire Puddinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06019673884543913089noreply@blogger.com38tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883584.post-84693866529051554912024-03-10T23:33:00.000+00:002024-03-10T23:33:25.688+00:00Homage<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>I guess, essentially, life is a tragedy, but more for some than others. </i></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">I've </span><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">never searched for any grave other than relatives, and only</span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"> then for </span><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">the genealogical information on them.</span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Tasker Dunham</b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0voYDjLGCngtgyZypz564VAT3bvVduGWCmf3b3q6XBwwX5J5wqXmoWk0QnHVpWu4_CaIuZd0E_acf_mN5mTCh0tE3w9vdcyCPY0UxubR0s9qe8rArm8z9eamqOoX5XkXTS5cWQWJv97LrrhS2gX-SwqQfKO1YHFht5tFsW5F-W1lOcrX8PrnS/s450/Dylan%20THomas.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="450" height="413" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0voYDjLGCngtgyZypz564VAT3bvVduGWCmf3b3q6XBwwX5J5wqXmoWk0QnHVpWu4_CaIuZd0E_acf_mN5mTCh0tE3w9vdcyCPY0UxubR0s9qe8rArm8z9eamqOoX5XkXTS5cWQWJv97LrrhS2gX-SwqQfKO1YHFht5tFsW5F-W1lOcrX8PrnS/w622-h413/Dylan%20THomas.jpg" width="622" /></a></div></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Remember how two weeks ago I visited the grave of Sandy Denny in Putney Vale Cemetery, London? Previously I thought that paying homage like that was a perfectly normal human activity but Tasker Dunham's comment left me wondering if I am unusually morbid or weirder than I might normally admit.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">In my life, I have visited the graves of various well-known people. For example, twenty five years ago, down in Dorset, I visited the grave of Thomas Hardy in Stinsford churchyard. Actually, it's not all of him - just his heart. The rest of him is buried within the precincts of Westminster Abbey, London. The thought of the removal of Hardy's heart is slightly disturbing.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">When on holiday in Seattle in 2014 - I made a point of visiting the grave of Jimi Hendrix in the city's Renton suburb. I blogged about that <a href="https://beefgravy.blogspot.com/2014/06/hendrix.html">here</a>.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Down in Laugharne, South Wales I have visited the simple grave of the poet Dylan Thomas on three or four occasions. He had a way with words but of course his life was tragically short. He died at the tender age of 39, a month after I was born. One can only imagine what else he might have written if he had lived a long life. Maybe one can absorb some of the literary genius of a man like that by simply standing at his graveside.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Another literary grave I have visited is that of Sylvia Plath. She died in 1963 and is buried in Heptonstall churchyard here in Yorkshire. She was only thirty years old when she chose to take her own life. In her memory, pilgrims have pushed dozens of pens into her grave. I blogged about my visit there in 2018. <a href="https://beefgravy.blogspot.com/2018/03/uplands.html">Go here</a>.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Is it ghoulish to visit the graves of famous people you admire? Very possibly but I can't say for sure. One grave I must visit in the next few months is that of my brother Simon who died in the summer of 2022. As the executor of his small estate, I arranged for a gravestone to be erected above the place where he was interred - back in my home village. This job was finally completed last October. Though I have seen a couple of photos of the gravestone, I have yet to see it with my own eyes.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><b>Finally: Have you visited the graves of any particular famous people or personal heroes? Who and where?</b></span></div>Yorkshire Puddinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06019673884543913089noreply@blogger.com48tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883584.post-69213033448262927512024-03-09T22:17:00.001+00:002024-03-09T23:53:08.291+00:00Farms<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ8bvpsYobwW15AUIfnsHlmuvUJogdHkbtATuAixzQNH0vJWMcU0LHSqz8ND6jeSmELrS5pGeZ7G9WLYNNOfQb7v_h823Hc1abb_uwQhDLNjOqRwehBKJZqS-QtFG2_3wicIcZ4ixN4FUKqcWv9jM1BH2r2qkuZu08okNqFKSNAWXSYlZ2JXrA/s1024/Beeches%20Farm,%20Faxfleet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="614" data-original-width="1024" height="389" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ8bvpsYobwW15AUIfnsHlmuvUJogdHkbtATuAixzQNH0vJWMcU0LHSqz8ND6jeSmELrS5pGeZ7G9WLYNNOfQb7v_h823Hc1abb_uwQhDLNjOqRwehBKJZqS-QtFG2_3wicIcZ4ixN4FUKqcWv9jM1BH2r2qkuZu08okNqFKSNAWXSYlZ2JXrA/w646-h389/Beeches%20Farm,%20Faxfleet.jpg" width="646" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Acme; font-size: medium;">Beeches Farm, Faxfleet</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Acme; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Yesterday's blogpost was about paths but this one concerns farms. I looked back on my Geograph submissions and discovered that I have contributed 3897 image that are primarily labelled "farm". For this post I have once again selected just seven of those pictures</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">My wife is a farmer's daughter. She was born in a Lincolnshire farmhouse by The River Trent. But it wasn't as isolated as the farms shown here. Her family farm, Holme Farm, was in the heart of a small village and very much part of the community.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">In contrast, when out walking, I frequently pass lonesome farms that are located more than a mile or two from the nearest village. I wonder what it must be like to live in such places - not just for a country vacation but all the time, whatever the season.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Unquestionably</span></span><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">, there must be lots of advantages - including the peace and quiet but there will be several disadvantages too. Children born on such farms will be far from their friends and may have to get used to inventing their own solitary amusements. It will be especially difficult for many teenagers raised on farms who need to experience some proper independence as they grow older.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">In the mating game, farmers will often be very challenged. How do you meet someone when you live in glorious isolation? People who are not born into farming families must feel strange about moving to such locations. After all, you won't be able to walk to a shop or knock on a neighbour's door begging for cups of sugar or a few teabags.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">It is reckoned that there are around 216,000 farms in Great Britain - each with its own history and story to tell The seven shown here form just a tiny sample of this kingdom's farms.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Acme; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="750" height="587" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHoSZRilvC5YwCiJzOA_mo6MnZikdxj_8g8UIebSPX_Y2FhOltrDj_cxIrcMbKtvMT1ULwKyiVgBZ4wM5JoUE0OyWqxtBa4akI3vmAdYWJNoYxIKxJWO3PQgKtZTrFYh2-Z9stAw6dW_OhIF2pICNfe3mHcG-vD1k88CqlB0WaJG3AZxgzGofV/w429-h587/Dale%20Farm%20View%20Wetton.jpg" width="429" /><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Acme; font-size: medium;">Dale Farm, Wetton</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHoSZRilvC5YwCiJzOA_mo6MnZikdxj_8g8UIebSPX_Y2FhOltrDj_cxIrcMbKtvMT1ULwKyiVgBZ4wM5JoUE0OyWqxtBa4akI3vmAdYWJNoYxIKxJWO3PQgKtZTrFYh2-Z9stAw6dW_OhIF2pICNfe3mHcG-vD1k88CqlB0WaJG3AZxgzGofV/s1024/Dale%20Farm%20View%20Wetton.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Acme; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="767" data-original-width="1024" height="477" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht4IgKdAlohWjXzFAmpt6Hk8SlbOqGXYJxgY9ksuSQBv5h51DRe66gj0ri9SrM4-5jbXC9zsvqq2MeAOtCdnwXXaCm5JFCrIRI1SkDRFnCJDDpwAbIERx7YfkCpUcFDB0ydEPofhDo17pMMaYI17AQ3QK2ZSd35vz4ySd5aKlEN2mnTtPmOi8U/w637-h477/Avenue%20Farm,%20North%20Cliffe.jpg" width="637" /></span></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Acme; font-size: medium;">Avenue Farm, North Cliffe</span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKfy-HsFW97gkAQ9Xs6uOjKdx_4QVuHZVx6kSBKeoDhkoUTbR4LhqVZPru5XXe9-SY59QjV0pR6fwvLT3jKHznk-9dFjsEH5e2IScF3HHsXU2jkfBjaAmHN5NUkDgb6cKTLH-dkLaD-8NiC7GHo8Ygy-p8KeFRWwVgMmzwcP11mNt1_JXvsTEa/s1024/Bettfield%20Farm%20near%20Chapel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Acme; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="767" height="571" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKfy-HsFW97gkAQ9Xs6uOjKdx_4QVuHZVx6kSBKeoDhkoUTbR4LhqVZPru5XXe9-SY59QjV0pR6fwvLT3jKHznk-9dFjsEH5e2IScF3HHsXU2jkfBjaAmHN5NUkDgb6cKTLH-dkLaD-8NiC7GHo8Ygy-p8KeFRWwVgMmzwcP11mNt1_JXvsTEa/w429-h571/Bettfield%20Farm%20near%20Chapel.jpg" width="429" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Acme; font-size: medium;">Bettfield Farm, east of Chapel-en-le-Frith</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL60346ywij1CwoN6x6OuhuKU7I3thmlaSR6tJJ2FIb9HZMwhghpzCGZLLwggYG5pOObbK3gcVL83vDo4UtW-uWtSV1H8YbSiguNduGCOZNkyoTSJ18PELi7c9RqcajlO2zHngDjK3Agy08BJ8Cc-F_6fen3LTkSWRvUrtQQTc1XgtmLNzGTb5/s1024/ivy%20house%20farm,%20peak%20forest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Acme; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="756" data-original-width="1024" height="442" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL60346ywij1CwoN6x6OuhuKU7I3thmlaSR6tJJ2FIb9HZMwhghpzCGZLLwggYG5pOObbK3gcVL83vDo4UtW-uWtSV1H8YbSiguNduGCOZNkyoTSJ18PELi7c9RqcajlO2zHngDjK3Agy08BJ8Cc-F_6fen3LTkSWRvUrtQQTc1XgtmLNzGTb5/w599-h442/ivy%20house%20farm,%20peak%20forest.jpg" width="599" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Acme; font-size: medium;">Ivy House Farm, Peak Forest</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOSVsMjFj-a1tctv9iJ2REuckhxLHjn1owAN-_0HvCZ53gAy4IA_I_IvT3_34NRv11pgdH_qUUDXZ6Ndr-MWb6pT_t26lH_RXFXzuXVC4fRzWCThECEK8mg1cEAlXYFQ84e0AWIrefAk76-oXVj23UUJnx351n6_JGMcUPCZiJbuJR3McxatHC/s1024/Crawshaw%20Farm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Acme; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="763" height="572" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOSVsMjFj-a1tctv9iJ2REuckhxLHjn1owAN-_0HvCZ53gAy4IA_I_IvT3_34NRv11pgdH_qUUDXZ6Ndr-MWb6pT_t26lH_RXFXzuXVC4fRzWCThECEK8mg1cEAlXYFQ84e0AWIrefAk76-oXVj23UUJnx351n6_JGMcUPCZiJbuJR3McxatHC/w425-h572/Crawshaw%20Farm.jpg" width="425" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Acme; font-size: medium;">Crawshaw Farm, Ughill</span></div><span style="font-family: Acme; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipZiXbuQkbUw0obbpHqtyD9xqfeafI0y4XY-7bWd0SsprR80K5huXcR6xqFpGdp3EhslZVs_gf-MwrFq3Fs_1Ih2OlHwF9GGpDYL_7az48q0HIa3ZOmFYokSuArAaoxBd3pogrpyFQn-SujF-eHQbnxcNSBI_q2bKKLOJ2xZ2lzSiA8SxahIAi/s1024/Leylands%20Farm%20Broadbottom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Acme; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="775" data-original-width="1024" height="475" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipZiXbuQkbUw0obbpHqtyD9xqfeafI0y4XY-7bWd0SsprR80K5huXcR6xqFpGdp3EhslZVs_gf-MwrFq3Fs_1Ih2OlHwF9GGpDYL_7az48q0HIa3ZOmFYokSuArAaoxBd3pogrpyFQn-SujF-eHQbnxcNSBI_q2bKKLOJ2xZ2lzSiA8SxahIAi/w629-h475/Leylands%20Farm%20Broadbottom.jpg" width="629" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Acme; font-size: medium;">Leylands Farm, Broadbottom</span></div>Yorkshire Puddinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06019673884543913089noreply@blogger.com27tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883584.post-23041030140697514532024-03-08T22:58:00.002+00:002024-03-08T23:11:02.887+00:00Paths<p style="text-align: justify;"></p><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>If you don't know where you want to go, then </i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>it doesn't matter which path you take.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Lewis Carroll, "Alice in Wonderland"</b></div></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Merriweather; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Merriweather; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaMwWXP47yYFRisFlEgPB7WXcVPTfQ5onOGRgjGdc3YpVvy4ueyoqbgpdXTqw3cXmkIpKRiSTQVWfRpTQjwLZ3F_y3IG7-wAP1VxxbL25D8EbfY739KDQ3scIKUc0lAezGbUUNQtnTjVYDAAZ-1dbyN9t7P1Teo5j-Il_w3_EkZcOpeySh6EGD/s1024/Redcar%20Sands.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaMwWXP47yYFRisFlEgPB7WXcVPTfQ5onOGRgjGdc3YpVvy4ueyoqbgpdXTqw3cXmkIpKRiSTQVWfRpTQjwLZ3F_y3IG7-wAP1VxxbL25D8EbfY739KDQ3scIKUc0lAezGbUUNQtnTjVYDAAZ-1dbyN9t7P1Teo5j-Il_w3_EkZcOpeySh6EGD/w635-h478/Redcar%20Sands.jpg" width="635" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Acme;">Coastal path above Redcar Sands, North Yorkshire</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Merriweather; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><div style="text-align: justify;">Paths up hills and paths down dales. Paths through cornfields and paths through woods. Paths by rivers and paths by railway tracks. Summer paths and wintry paths. Well-trodden paths and forgotten paths. Paths to caves and paths to churches. Paths through cities and paths to the sea. Paths by prisons and paths by farms. Overgrown paths and paths made from old paving stones lowered by helicopters. Paths that miners walked and paths that weavers walked. Paths shown in maps and paths imprinted in our minds forever. Paths of memory and paths of hope.</div></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Over at the Geograph site, I have deposited 2575 images for which the principal label is "path". A path takes us to somewhere else, somewhere different. And we are all on paths, striding to the future. The path of life, sometimes crisscrossing with other people's paths. Onward we will go until the path reaches its inevitable end.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Accompanying this blogpost are just seven of the path images I have captured in recent years.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Merriweather; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2tvLA9FEUzBmrPgQYDU4T9InfDwCBRUcKAg6XcnglWIg9FgXGYFxQfUf9RgYoWm-GG_Uu8h1r8m_dHeIc9kZHIaxFvzZJ65a_JDoY3ML-42fvn5Cigl5RvBJZiVl_u_KBmz3iAO8anQ4DHfwT03tYnTc2DUjRS-j9p7RYwq6gV-Tw13a-o_ft/s1024/Footpath%20to%20South%20Anston.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="768" height="660" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2tvLA9FEUzBmrPgQYDU4T9InfDwCBRUcKAg6XcnglWIg9FgXGYFxQfUf9RgYoWm-GG_Uu8h1r8m_dHeIc9kZHIaxFvzZJ65a_JDoY3ML-42fvn5Cigl5RvBJZiVl_u_KBmz3iAO8anQ4DHfwT03tYnTc2DUjRS-j9p7RYwq6gV-Tw13a-o_ft/w495-h660/Footpath%20to%20South%20Anston.jpg" width="495" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Acme;">Path by fields to South Anston</span></div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhciH65GJrNLQgochH5Qg-bQ-TdanDm91OOlsad54eGYoZCT2fLuXuhzEC8oLec90xXR-gHPTkIfYKD8wGxKemtdk_2pg8b5EinpptFiCdURrjOAnQBqw42uKR63WYzKX4Ts0S5yQBdM0XiTM67nApY31zG8Dvys0QlVw7sVPh8UPyZyoFFWOY4/s1024/Blacka%20Dike.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="776" data-original-width="1024" height="483" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhciH65GJrNLQgochH5Qg-bQ-TdanDm91OOlsad54eGYoZCT2fLuXuhzEC8oLec90xXR-gHPTkIfYKD8wGxKemtdk_2pg8b5EinpptFiCdURrjOAnQBqw42uKR63WYzKX4Ts0S5yQBdM0XiTM67nApY31zG8Dvys0QlVw7sVPh8UPyZyoFFWOY4/w637-h483/Blacka%20Dike.jpg" width="637" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Acme;">Path crossing Blacka Dike</span></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn8F6sy9_rIK7JxrnXFmFEj2fdpQA8kG1hB0lkEpVXPamQ1Gh6cx_qbSAwmQ1jt3EWxNqnKb78NcJo7FZ3cUljztYSxbV0ACbgZWXDpK4FezdQBnuLED3LLxyLcFfU4Qnu_2Z9GCfv2PVKMzqKtsVwsVSgm3oGqSv-AUJ-2F36lSYBc0MgFPqx/s1024/Limb%20Valley.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="752" height="665" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn8F6sy9_rIK7JxrnXFmFEj2fdpQA8kG1hB0lkEpVXPamQ1Gh6cx_qbSAwmQ1jt3EWxNqnKb78NcJo7FZ3cUljztYSxbV0ACbgZWXDpK4FezdQBnuLED3LLxyLcFfU4Qnu_2Z9GCfv2PVKMzqKtsVwsVSgm3oGqSv-AUJ-2F36lSYBc0MgFPqx/w488-h665/Limb%20Valley.jpg" width="488" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Acme;">In The Limb Valley</span></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhabzU890svcNP1z-zR8_1jNoG_JHjgozvajjd8W4WwkrgBut3S3asvlrJ3x2bRub638QW9tRYcV_qF1gJLuOMunCK8QBEVU1n7qmxJAYWy2wHPN-XmzI0mYlsmRp5-oxyKN1bOyZr-ceUwlL3Xzcgj4vwFkGdkF74X7EnftZFA5cJ5xgmPqOM3/s1024/Bottoms%20Reservoir%20Tintwistle.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="482" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhabzU890svcNP1z-zR8_1jNoG_JHjgozvajjd8W4WwkrgBut3S3asvlrJ3x2bRub638QW9tRYcV_qF1gJLuOMunCK8QBEVU1n7qmxJAYWy2wHPN-XmzI0mYlsmRp5-oxyKN1bOyZr-ceUwlL3Xzcgj4vwFkGdkF74X7EnftZFA5cJ5xgmPqOM3/w642-h482/Bottoms%20Reservoir%20Tintwistle.jpg" width="642" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Acme;">Over Bottoms Reservoir Dam, Tintwistle</span></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRI-pGqlDce8MCMS765Cjzvo_qWXE1o87oeGbo7YIhEChnX6XMvP5zNLMdbFFQHNBkeAF16ngO-DhHWZ-oFVpH39uxqALZ3uNIX5MBd5r5EA-G8hdl-N9rXO3rK5uid-AuUPobXipHc514BSzqXSD4AHYitY5Y9tsID0DQForcwQ0qhtZ3XOOf/s1024/Stoney%20Middleton.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="481" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRI-pGqlDce8MCMS765Cjzvo_qWXE1o87oeGbo7YIhEChnX6XMvP5zNLMdbFFQHNBkeAF16ngO-DhHWZ-oFVpH39uxqALZ3uNIX5MBd5r5EA-G8hdl-N9rXO3rK5uid-AuUPobXipHc514BSzqXSD4AHYitY5Y9tsID0DQForcwQ0qhtZ3XOOf/w642-h481/Stoney%20Middleton.jpg" width="642" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Acme;">Path from Top Riley, Stoney Middleton</span></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDO3wmPMKEldSWCvpCYQC1o1qTpoqLkLpaNnvQf_E2Gbx8QE75FQvWU0TCO66B8OYiJLmgGc_63FPr_Gnit8WsNHyx-VcM0rAsaFtIUzgd0mn46Pt0UMr12wEEM0KmCE6-N1J6xAdRw9M8qA80pRC3vZHVdTcUPnwu0Qib2cSRD1aLHC_2LQTN/s1024/Whitgift%20Lighthouse.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="481" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDO3wmPMKEldSWCvpCYQC1o1qTpoqLkLpaNnvQf_E2Gbx8QE75FQvWU0TCO66B8OYiJLmgGc_63FPr_Gnit8WsNHyx-VcM0rAsaFtIUzgd0mn46Pt0UMr12wEEM0KmCE6-N1J6xAdRw9M8qA80pRC3vZHVdTcUPnwu0Qib2cSRD1aLHC_2LQTN/w642-h481/Whitgift%20Lighthouse.jpg" width="642" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Acme;">River bank path to Whitgift Lighthouse</span></div><p></p>Yorkshire Puddinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06019673884543913089noreply@blogger.com33tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883584.post-54294852071192511982024-03-07T23:55:00.004+00:002024-03-07T23:58:42.178+00:00Soundtrack<p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">There can't be many members of my generation whose musical tastes are all about looking forward and embracing what is new. Most of us look back to earlier times when our musical tastes were just forming. Maybe this is one of the hallmarks of aging - the tendency to be nostalgic - drawn to what once was - when we were young. </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">How many of us have even heard of Benson Boone, Noah Kahan, SZA, Fred Again and Baby Akeem? For your information, they all currently appear in the British hit parade of top twenty singles. No doubt such acts are being embraced by the young whose pasts were too recent to dwell upon. They look forward while living in the here and now.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Here are three songs from the soundtrack of my youth that sometimes seems so long ago that I am like a lighthouse keeper looking to some distant horizon for signs of three-masted sailing ships.</span></p>
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Acme; font-size: large;">Fairport Convention "Meet on The Ledge" (1969)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Acme; font-size: large;">Lead singers - Ian Matthews and Sandy Denny</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/K3uBlSnp-TI?si=mQeV_ZJK8_Ax6b3f" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Acme; font-size: large;">Roberta Flack "The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face"</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Acme; font-size: large;">Released in 1969 but performed here in 1972</span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/d8_fLu2yrP4?si=KkQ5khe_TuLoY0HN" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe> </div>
<div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Acme; font-size: large;">Jackson Browne "Rock Me On The Water"</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Acme; font-size: large;">Released in 1972 but performed here in 1978</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/6VVJEaHM01o?si=b-1K5sjOaXlmm6yq" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><b>Dear Visitor.... If you were put on the spot and asked to name three songs that captured the spirit of your early musical preferences, which three songs might you pick?</b></span></div>Yorkshire Puddinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06019673884543913089noreply@blogger.com41tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883584.post-46846013251509200792024-03-06T23:04:00.001+00:002024-03-07T01:02:43.764+00:00Strike<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8OC9EuqojqW3padYfPsZk0ZH9IFt8temIWwjgOb9gv4GjyvvIHfs-i9NHpUrpZ35XxxWvodCmFv-Or-yNahCmtUF-AokEzdMKPtEbFfpPgzV1tn2vsyBLchH0PKu9D7GH46PqiY14bZ3JgwOG54wnBuXoX-HfJEVGSaJGcD-DDiL4LTValjM8/s405/Coal%20not%20Dole.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="356" data-original-width="405" height="281" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8OC9EuqojqW3padYfPsZk0ZH9IFt8temIWwjgOb9gv4GjyvvIHfs-i9NHpUrpZ35XxxWvodCmFv-Or-yNahCmtUF-AokEzdMKPtEbFfpPgzV1tn2vsyBLchH0PKu9D7GH46PqiY14bZ3JgwOG54wnBuXoX-HfJEVGSaJGcD-DDiL4LTValjM8/s320/Coal%20not%20Dole.png" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">The last British miners' strike began on this day in 1984. Forty years ago. My heart was with those miners and their communities then and so it remains. We will not forget.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">My mother was born in a South Yorkshire coal mining village in 1921. Her father was a coal miner before World War One and her maternal grandfather was a coal miner all his working life, like his father before him.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">You might say that it was on the backs of British coal miners that The British Empire was built. They dug the coal that powered industry, the railways and the steamships that fanned out across the globe - servicing the greatest empire that the world has ever seen. It was not the landed gentry or the descendants of Norman invaders who did it but hard-working men who sweated in darkness and risked their lives for coal. King Coal as they called it.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">My first teaching job after leaving university was at Dinnington, a coal mining village here in South Yorkshire. Back then the local pit was in full operation. I could see the slag heap from my classroom window and I could hear the hooters that marked the beginning or the end of shifts.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">I introduced a poem called "The Gresford Disaster" to two of my classes and we made a play about it which was performed in the youth centre. I even put the poem to music which some of the cast sang with me. Even though the village of Gresford is in North Wales, the anonymously written poem seemed very close to home for them:-</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><div style="text-align: center;"><i>You've heard of the Gresford disaster,</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>The terrible price that was paid,</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Two hundred and forty-two colliers were lost</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>And three men of a rescue brigade.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">As 1982 began, the polls suggested that Margaret Thatcher, our then Conservative prime minister was about to lose the next general election but then Argentina invaded The Falkland Islands and British military forces fought back to defeat them. This utterly transformed Thatcher's electoral prospects and indeed she won the election of 1983 quite handsomely on the back of that patriotic fervour.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVrr4u-xTpRhIWcMPyZU_5LrWrOhQP0lxkwo2XHD0GKkU2teCxCJ8EaPbJ3l57O3RlXA4zeTyXmilVBlvJ7g_KJegmWkaGI3qO1BBO4SrW_FSGfQT6lHVJ11RrB48p0OpPYEif0sTFn3G9yYVoUBhsPN-LbvFNbpRFRe_MjJmoqofR0cOGXBUi/s1024/7114735_cca8a4aa_1024x1024.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="712" data-original-width="1024" height="453" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVrr4u-xTpRhIWcMPyZU_5LrWrOhQP0lxkwo2XHD0GKkU2teCxCJ8EaPbJ3l57O3RlXA4zeTyXmilVBlvJ7g_KJegmWkaGI3qO1BBO4SrW_FSGfQT6lHVJ11RrB48p0OpPYEif0sTFn3G9yYVoUBhsPN-LbvFNbpRFRe_MjJmoqofR0cOGXBUi/w649-h453/7114735_cca8a4aa_1024x1024.jpg" width="649" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Poppins;">Statue of a coal miner in South Kirkby</span></div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Thatcher is still despised in former coal mining communities up and down the kingdom. She called coal miners "The Enemy Within" but the miners were fighting for their communities and for jobs. It was not about wage rises. She was determined to crush them and close the pits.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">She paid for planeloads of police officers and soldiers dressed as policemen from the south of England to fly up to Yorkshire to crush the strike. Though much has been written about the lack of a national ballot, most of us who were on the side of the miners believe that she would have stopped at nothing to defeat them. Like Conservatives through the ages, she had little respect for trade unionism or indeed the working class as a whole. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb88Urz7j3WPYaR044SvD0OX05dX36QYlSRKDy6KKppww6htD-Vqzqpc3-Xs4NWRjCHlM8jaeA2MWHMN9sF_AQlKyORviTeYsSJ6GgAhHG8G3HtSde2UMbZOz4hkzYVYmFHvbv8W4lp-WYaox7QNs-auMN5T06zOu8Tpuag5Yx0tdFVDGaiud2/s653/LESLEY.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="653" data-original-width="480" height="573" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb88Urz7j3WPYaR044SvD0OX05dX36QYlSRKDy6KKppww6htD-Vqzqpc3-Xs4NWRjCHlM8jaeA2MWHMN9sF_AQlKyORviTeYsSJ6GgAhHG8G3HtSde2UMbZOz4hkzYVYmFHvbv8W4lp-WYaox7QNs-auMN5T06zOu8Tpuag5Yx0tdFVDGaiud2/w421-h573/LESLEY.png" width="421" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: Poppins;">At Orgreave 18th June 1984</span></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Poppins;">Lesley Boulton (Sheffield Women Against Pit Closures) is about </span><span style="font-family: Poppins;">to </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Poppins;">be clouted by a policeman on horseback - fortunately he </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Poppins;">missed </span><span style="font-family: Poppins;">as she was quickly pulled back by a striking miner.</span></div><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">With hindsight, you can see how reliance upon coal was becoming uneconomic and it had always been dirty and dangerous. Something had to change but not in the way that Thatcher and her gang cruelly devised it. Those brave men and their communities deserved negotiation, persuasion and time for redevelopment and change. For generations, they had gone down into the bowels of the earth on behalf of our country and this was how the state treated them.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">The mines are gone now. In their place there are retail parks or wastelands where ragged plastic bags are caught in thistles or rusty barbed wire. But listen carefully and from the years that have passed by you may still hear a plaintive echo from the bitter 1984-85 strike... <b>"The Miners United Will Never Be Defeated!"</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeNpLCIPSGaLlX6_eZvVyZ4GMvbBbplseWnJSgcUXJgyjXh-7F64XCI3mAacqDLAcfjAFk1TeVNQO5Fu3KWThKnKStKrbE_pwtxl6ajZ4n_hy2RSWtN2QwmkXWuUCZ-EntYJSi1QK5l53PnwlgGwDBbtDm7zvBUkZl0FypaHsyI9pR6wgSaNVX/s225/Orgreave.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="225" data-original-width="225" height="401" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeNpLCIPSGaLlX6_eZvVyZ4GMvbBbplseWnJSgcUXJgyjXh-7F64XCI3mAacqDLAcfjAFk1TeVNQO5Fu3KWThKnKStKrbE_pwtxl6ajZ4n_hy2RSWtN2QwmkXWuUCZ-EntYJSi1QK5l53PnwlgGwDBbtDm7zvBUkZl0FypaHsyI9pR6wgSaNVX/w401-h401/Orgreave.jpg" width="401" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Back in <a href="https://beefgravy.blogspot.com/2015/12/kellingley.html">December 2015</a>, I wrote this poem about the</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">closure of the very last working pit in Yorkshire:-</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">⦿</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Poppins; font-size: x-large;"><b>Kellingley</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Poppins; font-size: x-small;"><b>December 18th 2015</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Poppins; font-size: medium;"><b>All is quiet now</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Poppins; font-size: medium;"><b>Only darkness remains</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Poppins; font-size: medium;"><b>Thick black velvet darkness</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Poppins; font-size: medium;"><b>As black as coal</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Poppins; font-size: medium;"><b>Pressed into eye sockets</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Poppins; font-size: medium;"><b>Like thumbs.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Poppins; font-size: medium;"><b>Yes</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Poppins; font-size: medium;"><b>All is quiet now</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Poppins; font-size: medium;"><b>Yet somewhere</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Poppins; font-size: medium;"><b>Deep in this awful labyrinth</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Poppins; font-size: medium;"><b>Voices chant distantly</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Poppins; font-size: medium;"><b>Please cup your ears</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Poppins; font-size: medium;"><b>To hear them</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Poppins; font-size: medium;"><b>Sweet like forgotten birdsong</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Poppins; font-size: medium;"><b>Resounding in some</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Poppins; font-size: medium;"><b>Primeval forest long ago:</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Poppins; font-size: medium;"><b>"The miners united</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Poppins; font-size: medium;"><b>Will never be defeated!"</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Poppins; font-size: medium;"><b>Fading...fading</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Poppins; font-size: medium;"><b>Melting into the darkness</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Poppins; font-size: x-small;"><b>"will never be..."</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Poppins; font-size: x-small;"><b>"defeated..."</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Poppins; font-size: medium;"><b>It's all over now</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Poppins; font-size: medium;"><b>Nothing left to say.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Poppins; font-size: medium;"><b>All is silent.</b></span></div></div><p></p>Yorkshire Puddinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06019673884543913089noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883584.post-31953278343635773512024-03-05T22:56:00.002+00:002024-03-06T09:56:21.433+00:00Nearby<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEhGpqlCyu6psdTpErROON-cQ4iRvz5P7LKawtBfZfiBCOxlXxc4K-LjXMjYT8NpVhXXbAqpPB6dCcjC4ARXp_nSSaykRZqe6Y9UDPdlXoBw79WdHn-C-q_rvgSPWGQRfehPIXthgoWD_6q1E0bdCs0SAyNHw4W1LgPyCd7gB7Mk6ozGaQWUlL/s4896/DSC09688.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3596" data-original-width="4896" height="475" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEhGpqlCyu6psdTpErROON-cQ4iRvz5P7LKawtBfZfiBCOxlXxc4K-LjXMjYT8NpVhXXbAqpPB6dCcjC4ARXp_nSSaykRZqe6Y9UDPdlXoBw79WdHn-C-q_rvgSPWGQRfehPIXthgoWD_6q1E0bdCs0SAyNHw4W1LgPyCd7gB7Mk6ozGaQWUlL/w647-h475/DSC09688.JPG" width="647" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Above - that may look like a scene deep in the English countryside but those stone gateposts and that wooden gate are on a busy roundabout in an area of Sheffield called Hunter's Bar. It is a twelve minute walk from this house. In fact it is that gate that gave the suburb its name. As long ago as the seventeenth century it was on a turnpike road and it caused travellers on horseback or pulling carts or leading teams of packhorses to stop and pay their tolls. Presumably, at some time the Hunter family or a man called Hunter operated the gate.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Below, on Sharrowvale Road at Hunter's Bar, it really did feel like spring today. Two women are taking their lunch outside a vegan cafe.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwBOrkRThC8mSlX7WQAn6Qyk64kTcp0DKkncgLQvitpCPdRf0sfkE7Hc36WZnMoGMQcLfcQXZEZmmOoLDwiiIN25nGjYz1hoOLSdFLnxGpfWfzuKosDo7IfMXjvUTugIk5KkN45pDZxPTAHBbMANIAWiedZQWcmxfQRnfBp-se2w9kDorFMKQt/s4743/DSC09698.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4743" data-original-width="3588" height="582" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwBOrkRThC8mSlX7WQAn6Qyk64kTcp0DKkncgLQvitpCPdRf0sfkE7Hc36WZnMoGMQcLfcQXZEZmmOoLDwiiIN25nGjYz1hoOLSdFLnxGpfWfzuKosDo7IfMXjvUTugIk5KkN45pDZxPTAHBbMANIAWiedZQWcmxfQRnfBp-se2w9kDorFMKQt/w441-h582/DSC09698.JPG" width="441" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Below - a woman is pausing to choose a potted plant from the florist's shop just along from the vegan cafe.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMZ2vCVnpyIYjfYnnF_R5Oy_a61Weyymh8Boaf50os3CV1JtOsN1gLgXxk7GjWZzLnqW78T-4BEA5PK6ItTdsovJftgok1t5PF1-Nicodu17L9otnLue2e3HBBSSAR2gkvWsWaPAj9fRyyO44GUlEj4GnnLKf-MR6Ij2TzaXvI2AKNb80E0lhm/s5038/DSC09697.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5038" data-original-width="3888" height="569" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMZ2vCVnpyIYjfYnnF_R5Oy_a61Weyymh8Boaf50os3CV1JtOsN1gLgXxk7GjWZzLnqW78T-4BEA5PK6ItTdsovJftgok1t5PF1-Nicodu17L9otnLue2e3HBBSSAR2gkvWsWaPAj9fRyyO44GUlEj4GnnLKf-MR6Ij2TzaXvI2AKNb80E0lhm/w439-h569/DSC09697.JPG" width="439" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><div style="text-align: justify;">The pub below is "The Porter Cottage". I was a regular there in 1978 when I first came to live in Sheffield. It was just down from the rental house where I stayed with four women. Back then, it was a regular neighbourhood pub for people of all ages but now it very much caters for younger adults and university students. I haven't been in there for years.</div></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJIxWBri7UrKYPyniL4ygp9pJ051RCzhgK9aW5oC0lVudCBVyZnhdYH1Y-oPis5siyqDbRS96Yvxlg0vM4Z-np98DUfR35zHc9-d8tf1V-V6XmK-gaBGztfWnsk00s1HRG313MRmiX3Ug0CGtjg7FyVlt86iCnZY6ZKpe2V_22Zbk841P7lUBk/s4666/DSC09706.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3605" data-original-width="4666" height="501" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJIxWBri7UrKYPyniL4ygp9pJ051RCzhgK9aW5oC0lVudCBVyZnhdYH1Y-oPis5siyqDbRS96Yvxlg0vM4Z-np98DUfR35zHc9-d8tf1V-V6XmK-gaBGztfWnsk00s1HRG313MRmiX3Ug0CGtjg7FyVlt86iCnZY6ZKpe2V_22Zbk841P7lUBk/w648-h501/DSC09706.JPG" width="648" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Just off Sharrowvale Road I snapped this wall art specially for Andrew in Melbourne, Australia...</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCCn1BeAKgFnewhzQUaQtQttb9WrQOMnysy07ntp18ZyS47iHRFk2ZBmnuW6qie6Cj9XG8RJQSfRwy3qyoNdCNpj6MoR1dhCJHEumEONuUecAdYs5g3UFq19zkyRZXQezrk6IEEdj_-xT09mCB79DkfXRbrn66lpEpYzWY7RBUC6OJ0MH4q9Ei/s5184/DSC09705.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3719" data-original-width="5184" height="464" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCCn1BeAKgFnewhzQUaQtQttb9WrQOMnysy07ntp18ZyS47iHRFk2ZBmnuW6qie6Cj9XG8RJQSfRwy3qyoNdCNpj6MoR1dhCJHEumEONuUecAdYs5g3UFq19zkyRZXQezrk6IEEdj_-xT09mCB79DkfXRbrn66lpEpYzWY7RBUC6OJ0MH4q9Ei/w645-h464/DSC09705.JPG" width="645" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><div style="text-align: justify;">Still on Sharrowvale Road, there's Hunter's Bar Primary School to the right and to the left "The Greedy Greek" restaurant and takeaway..</div></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPqkcMZu4LvO_PIDJyVHtiA5y3zONvVYfF4kN23UQjW621T8GDYPmB8neRYbtGOqemye-GGgnSjeRKO4NO7hoxud4HooNwFeW8Aw_zT1AFYZOVUUsu_W8hOr8enytG_cWN8zTNZycrdSB-Phlkays4wE3xkSje0LwseE9QX2IOpxPiTFE61kZ4/s5184/DSC09695.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5184" data-original-width="3888" height="605" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPqkcMZu4LvO_PIDJyVHtiA5y3zONvVYfF4kN23UQjW621T8GDYPmB8neRYbtGOqemye-GGgnSjeRKO4NO7hoxud4HooNwFeW8Aw_zT1AFYZOVUUsu_W8hOr8enytG_cWN8zTNZycrdSB-Phlkays4wE3xkSje0LwseE9QX2IOpxPiTFE61kZ4/w454-h605/DSC09695.JPG" width="454" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><div style="text-align: justify;">Below, on the corner of Hickmott Road and Neill Road,I looked over to the "Feline" tattoo studio and considered what I might request. Perhaps a Hull City tiger on my chest or a fox on my back, pursued by hunters on horseback and the fox "going to earth" to escape them if you see what I mean.</div></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs186Mp8eAOxV5gpzjGD9Osk2Jk9j0sS6xo9GpUQsFiLg0_D8OBRGgmJcQlPXdKXFDWAR9kivBXwRgK0AcUjBY0ulAT8c1Nti-3MK1HAFjgY-XhohREm1xW2vlCtp6oZup9C4-9BJJkg0hnmQh6hGdGHjAfyj-n8rKgrye8Ppu4rn1Z1QDp_fo/s5072/DSC09713.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3622" data-original-width="5072" height="466" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs186Mp8eAOxV5gpzjGD9Osk2Jk9j0sS6xo9GpUQsFiLg0_D8OBRGgmJcQlPXdKXFDWAR9kivBXwRgK0AcUjBY0ulAT8c1Nti-3MK1HAFjgY-XhohREm1xW2vlCtp6oZup9C4-9BJJkg0hnmQh6hGdGHjAfyj-n8rKgrye8Ppu4rn1Z1QDp_fo/w650-h466/DSC09713.JPG" width="650" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Hunter's Bar s a pretty affluent, buzzing neighbourhood with plenty of independent shops and eateries including takeaways, four pubs and a happy atmosphere. It feels safe and when I count up, I realise that it has been a familiar feature of my life for the past forty five years.</span></div><p></p>Yorkshire Puddinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06019673884543913089noreply@blogger.com29tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883584.post-91176295276334139772024-03-04T23:30:00.001+00:002024-03-05T00:12:28.089+00:00Quiztime<p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-kFVOyqN4ZneZLXNRrbZ_5SSmD1DU2Mi0XTmWn7RVSLkkS9XiS6Qz5Ph0Ygn95U2HGyGeCuUF2io1uvb8ZSu5CSCL3fmPVdwxpDEys0xZ29SykNVr_9aIdDHOTHN8CEefsm-AcQsDEChCwqiZK2ByIId8DvYTXt-PO7AFvXlGicqu5cD-5p0h/s1024/NEW%20QUIZTIME.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="576" data-original-width="1024" height="359" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-kFVOyqN4ZneZLXNRrbZ_5SSmD1DU2Mi0XTmWn7RVSLkkS9XiS6Qz5Ph0Ygn95U2HGyGeCuUF2io1uvb8ZSu5CSCL3fmPVdwxpDEys0xZ29SykNVr_9aIdDHOTHN8CEefsm-AcQsDEChCwqiZK2ByIId8DvYTXt-PO7AFvXlGicqu5cD-5p0h/w639-h359/NEW%20QUIZTIME.jpg" width="639" /></a></div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Rowdies;">As last week's "Quiztime" proved so popular, here's a second edition with questions taken from "The Hammer and Pincers" Quiz on Sunday night. I had to modify the sculpture question for foreign visitors to this blog. Answers given in the "Comments" section but no peeping and please, no use of smartphones! </span><span style="font-family: Rowdies;">Now pull up a seat and what may I get you from the bar?</span></span></p><p></p><ol style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">For clothing, what shade of green did R</span><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">obin Hood and his merry men allegedly favour?</span></li><li><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Which European city has this airport code - ZRH?</span></li><li><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Blockbusters. Related to work and getting jobs done what does R.U.Y.S. stand for?</span></li><li><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">What was discovered in Dammam, Saudi Arabia on March 3rd 1938?</span></li><li><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Which American grunge band released the albums "In Utero" and "Never Mind" in the early 1990's?</span></li><li><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">50/50 question. Which of these was the god of the sea in Greek mythology - Neptune or Poseidon?</span></li><li><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">In cuisine, which French term means wrapped in pastry?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6kpylqkCLmVq2oQrebG3YnHfQt8PsrkT835ANkSeR4jkjeJZX7KdCRANODXsSsKrFYyXjEDHhlEQMgDHquzWyYzwxJW70FzW3E3139LLNCHv06dLF5dvTbpDHxGEqud98byjVrOkS7SPf_otW0xTswy_-oz22PhbR8FrpP8a3cW4jhTJ9YSTt/s3000/ANGEL.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2221" data-original-width="3000" height="369" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6kpylqkCLmVq2oQrebG3YnHfQt8PsrkT835ANkSeR4jkjeJZX7KdCRANODXsSsKrFYyXjEDHhlEQMgDHquzWyYzwxJW70FzW3E3139LLNCHv06dLF5dvTbpDHxGEqud98byjVrOkS7SPf_otW0xTswy_-oz22PhbR8FrpP8a3cW4jhTJ9YSTt/w498-h369/ANGEL.jpg" width="498" /></a></div></span></li><li><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">What is the name of the iron sculpture by Antony Gormley that stands near the A1 motorway in Gateshead, England? (a) The Angel of Hope (b) The Angel of Forgiveness (c) The Angel of The North</span></li><li><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Which actress, singer, choreographer and original judge on "American Idol" once had hits with "Straight Up" and "Opposites Attract"?</span></li><li><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Which 1990 film starring Tom Selleck, Ted Danson and Steve Guttenberg was the sequel to "Three Men and A Baby"?</span></li></ol><p></p>Yorkshire Puddinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06019673884543913089noreply@blogger.com43tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883584.post-80263980309431904882024-03-03T23:23:00.000+00:002024-03-03T23:23:34.627+00:00Shagging<div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3BUm-524TIFM9zYAsODFkChDqEu1ImT2a0o8pfuqMo7CU_f2biGML8DjgzSCSLh2yA5KSPEhVtqOiiIZe_WJjvair2qI2AHb9N3DydOHOSrptbdH0lSIng0GoBB_YKWW1iAeO9JaK_5AgJVXfuJ2iwNFOd3jMGAodROJNCzZ_BYSa-KjVCxB_/s800/ShagClub.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="334" data-original-width="800" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3BUm-524TIFM9zYAsODFkChDqEu1ImT2a0o8pfuqMo7CU_f2biGML8DjgzSCSLh2yA5KSPEhVtqOiiIZe_WJjvair2qI2AHb9N3DydOHOSrptbdH0lSIng0GoBB_YKWW1iAeO9JaK_5AgJVXfuJ2iwNFOd3jMGAodROJNCzZ_BYSa-KjVCxB_/w589-h246/ShagClub.jpg" width="589" /></a></div><br /></div><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><div style="text-align: justify;">In the last eighty years, shagging has become pretty popular in South Carolina. Developed in the Afro-American coastal community around Myrtle Beach, shagging clubs have spread across the state and to other states too. Above you can see that there is even a shagging club in Florence SC, home of the legendary parrot Marco Barlow.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The basic step for this upbeat, quick and smooth dance is a six-count, eight-step pattern danced in a slot. The Shag, specifically the Carolina Shag, has been erroneously called the "swing dance of the South" but occupies a class of its own. It was once described as a "cold beer on a warm night with a hot date and no plans for tomorrow." </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Below we see two skilled exponents of the dance shagging expertly back in 2008. It's quite mesmerising...</div></span><div class="component__content" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Adamina; font-size: 20px; letter-spacing: 0.4px;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/pBfoXk34oQ8?si=wyYWqFE-30UJrpPu" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Lifeguards, waitresses and other young adults are the ones who are credited with popularising The Shag in Myrtle Beach. Dino Thompson, author of "Boogie Woogie Beats" and one of South Carolina's original shaggers, explained the dance's origins: "We started dancing like we talked to girls at the beach - laid back, slow and easy."</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">One thing that makes The Shag such a popular dance is that anyone with two legs can do it - whether you're six years old or 66 years old. It breaks barriers and brings everyone together with one common purpose: to have fun and enjoy the music. Dino further explained that it was the music that changed everything for the young dancers back in the day. "The sheer power and emotional appeal of the music brought the races together. Black and white, rich and poor, they jumped the rope and came down from the balconies to share the music and memories." All that mattered was the dance floor and this school of thought still rings true for shaggers today.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">When it comes to the best shagging spots in North Myrtle Beach, "The Spanish Galleon" night club and "Fat Harold's Beach Club" are two noteworthy venues. And if you stop by, you're almost guaranteed to see a few experienced shaggers doing their thing on the dance floor. They won't mind you watching or even snapping a few pictures.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">I am surprised that shagging isn't part of the regular repertoire of the BBC dance show "Strictly Come Dancing". Including it would surely boost the popularity of shagging in Great Britain and additionally I would probably lose my aversion to the show.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: Bookman Old Style;"><i>(Acknowledgement of source material: <b>"Discover South Carolina" </b>website)</i></span></div>Yorkshire Puddinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06019673884543913089noreply@blogger.com32tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883584.post-47939974259031819562024-03-02T23:57:00.000+00:002024-03-02T23:57:08.486+00:00Buns<p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4IROvQ_U8SFIBDZyVzpQKYUyOImXrsly9YFes-qHdhl0zVtJiweNv6WpR4bpvaCrD9oxrzXFTJV7Fq5OUcXGEiaNxL17ox5KfZdZvTeokCdcCEQpA0HQS_LcQxAaxmgQpLvb7vwkGAUkzo7fH63FIwgZFkD_jNbLnAyDuv9nyJzNCkrs8Mnpd/s880/c8361c16426606523d4af7db2dd180f2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="612" data-original-width="880" height="409" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4IROvQ_U8SFIBDZyVzpQKYUyOImXrsly9YFes-qHdhl0zVtJiweNv6WpR4bpvaCrD9oxrzXFTJV7Fq5OUcXGEiaNxL17ox5KfZdZvTeokCdcCEQpA0HQS_LcQxAaxmgQpLvb7vwkGAUkzo7fH63FIwgZFkD_jNbLnAyDuv9nyJzNCkrs8Mnpd/w587-h409/c8361c16426606523d4af7db2dd180f2.jpg" width="587" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><div style="text-align: justify;">I don't know what the point of a man bun is but I think I am going to have one anyway. The thing about them is that they are very cool and if a man doesn't have one, he is deemed to be an old-fashioned fuddy duddy. It is a little known fact that many of the great stone heads on Easter Island used to have what are known as "top knots" - carved from red volcanic "tufa" stone. Perhaps that is where the idea of the man bun came from.</div></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">It is possible to buy false man buns that you attach to the back of your scalp with hidden hair clips but I want a real one. Apart from Pope Francis, shown above, several other mass media celebrities have been experimenting with man buns. They are all trendsetters in the world of male grooming. See below...</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQBAQsvnFAPU8rX-pmW1jjeTTAnptWCNKossm1Qcf4dZ-U9lszusJkb9xqm93EGrfRwRfYLzPLer3bTogzU84LPcymy782AVx9NT2KVBadBlea8BuckzycdlQZA9Obc_LlUUVAPyCMzkiViCfCVDYtAqEk_gYr0ZAbQgXeKyKjPE3XFB9G3HqI/s896/imagining-uk-pm-rishi-sunak-with-ai-generated-hairstyles-v0-k10ytzene5ob1.webp" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="896" data-original-width="512" height="591" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQBAQsvnFAPU8rX-pmW1jjeTTAnptWCNKossm1Qcf4dZ-U9lszusJkb9xqm93EGrfRwRfYLzPLer3bTogzU84LPcymy782AVx9NT2KVBadBlea8BuckzycdlQZA9Obc_LlUUVAPyCMzkiViCfCVDYtAqEk_gYr0ZAbQgXeKyKjPE3XFB9G3HqI/w338-h591/imagining-uk-pm-rishi-sunak-with-ai-generated-hairstyles-v0-k10ytzene5ob1.webp" width="338" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Acme; font-size: large;">Rishi Sunak - bunning around</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim4GHMFkpBFoqcPSgtrHEbKN3E93oc5faGhIpF07MJUPfWXi2Mnh3-7tNe1bqgC4c_TFY40dQ30rS6bLq56RLTKwT-5o-vtcViTZV4Hal47bZujojrytjbXoreYAbvklroVRmTcVuoJhSCNNHgWvBJMSTx-ur3uJ1RQYzjfqxrRDYo-cJP2AwF/s1561/KH-IMAGE-P9-HARRY.webp" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1561" data-original-width="1500" height="395" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim4GHMFkpBFoqcPSgtrHEbKN3E93oc5faGhIpF07MJUPfWXi2Mnh3-7tNe1bqgC4c_TFY40dQ30rS6bLq56RLTKwT-5o-vtcViTZV4Hal47bZujojrytjbXoreYAbvklroVRmTcVuoJhSCNNHgWvBJMSTx-ur3uJ1RQYzjfqxrRDYo-cJP2AwF/w379-h395/KH-IMAGE-P9-HARRY.webp" width="379" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Acme; font-size: large;">Ginger Californian beach bun</span></div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnIf3x-gIqKIH4lvuP78WTu-GfRDT8sbTGAqRhJax5nuiIiUx2Nx4Z-3Js58VvhM8H0HaXkZ1pLD5fTU5vjAsLNqtGF4MNPuKlltzg1MbDTqhFhoCMhHwrBJm0dS4hiSIrML95jhlFbA9n3FJ1tEBNt0cR0jRKlA413KKPESDZArWBYeskyFr1/s701/rs_600x701-150930134621-don.webp" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="701" data-original-width="600" height="441" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnIf3x-gIqKIH4lvuP78WTu-GfRDT8sbTGAqRhJax5nuiIiUx2Nx4Z-3Js58VvhM8H0HaXkZ1pLD5fTU5vjAsLNqtGF4MNPuKlltzg1MbDTqhFhoCMhHwrBJm0dS4hiSIrML95jhlFbA9n3FJ1tEBNt0cR0jRKlA413KKPESDZArWBYeskyFr1/w378-h441/rs_600x701-150930134621-don.webp" width="378" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Acme; font-size: large;">Trump tower bun</span></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Many men lose their hair as they grow older. For example, 39% of British men are bald, 38% of American men and 33% of Australian men. That's an awful lot of men and why should they be denied the opportunity to follow the man bun fashion? That would be discriminatory and hurtful. Fortunately, knitters over at "Etsy" have found a solution - the man bun hat. It allows bald men to mingle unnoticed with the hip man bun crowd...</span></div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMztJE5WOpmZ2UJ2TDov6NeulJ_12Xn17sr8rUYhrE-G8hMd9J0AJWM10F6hqkSVWeBEChedpOtj9TDlFP-UqPQTcL3uHlmxMOx-8RUOTX8KtMHZQZJLD9uLmqr9PYo4OcioE0msUD3SO8AKkktoiMSemOiaY2nXxf1DMnyqEItjwV5eQpfJiO/s1588/il_1588xN.532153193_h6o0.webp" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1467" data-original-width="1588" height="406" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMztJE5WOpmZ2UJ2TDov6NeulJ_12Xn17sr8rUYhrE-G8hMd9J0AJWM10F6hqkSVWeBEChedpOtj9TDlFP-UqPQTcL3uHlmxMOx-8RUOTX8KtMHZQZJLD9uLmqr9PYo4OcioE0msUD3SO8AKkktoiMSemOiaY2nXxf1DMnyqEItjwV5eQpfJiO/w439-h406/il_1588xN.532153193_h6o0.webp" width="439" /></a></div><p></p>Yorkshire Puddinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06019673884543913089noreply@blogger.com33tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883584.post-75858452603976173332024-03-01T23:30:00.001+00:002024-03-02T09:56:30.535+00:001.3.24<div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH8AiYeyHUJc2a74ON3HVp6AFLr1HBSZeTSba3CQOO4lsZ-sxnLjxyQWBn7v_NGLrHeBVZIxzduccupkYKrpp5JanE7O1YpQGzRbUiTzXfKQsDWi1PCbIEGPslHYnIe6xmtgLii7y0HrhkGBmhsOW0SRNyfISvweubpXkydZ_Qab_wX7w5k9FZ/s832/Navalny.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="832" data-original-width="624" height="722" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH8AiYeyHUJc2a74ON3HVp6AFLr1HBSZeTSba3CQOO4lsZ-sxnLjxyQWBn7v_NGLrHeBVZIxzduccupkYKrpp5JanE7O1YpQGzRbUiTzXfKQsDWi1PCbIEGPslHYnIe6xmtgLii7y0HrhkGBmhsOW0SRNyfISvweubpXkydZ_Qab_wX7w5k9FZ/w542-h722/Navalny.jpg" width="542" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><span>Alexei Navalny was buried today at Borisovskoye Cemetery, Moscow. Up to ten thousand people marked the occasion. Earlier, at his memorial service, his mother and father sat to the left of his open casket </span>in The Church of the Icon of Our Lady Quench My Sorrows. Some foreign diplomats were at the funeral. However, there were no representatives of The Russian State which is not very surprising as it was The Russian State, under the instructions of Putin, that killed Alexei Navalny.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Three people who loved him deeply could only be there in spirit - not in person - his wife Yulia and his children Darya and Zakhar. This speaks volumes about the fearsome nature of The Russian State - having to choose to stay away from your husband or your father's funeral for fear of arrest.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">In the circumstances, with so much smothering of information and so many citizens in fear of the autocratic government that rules them, a turn-out of ten thousand mourners and supporters was, in my view, pretty good. They will have all been photographed and identified by agents of The Russian State and some will suffer in the months that follow. It might have been a good time to wear Navalny masks.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">After all, there is a sense in which they are all Alexei Navalny - desperate for a better future, a free Russia devoid of their dangerous megalomaniacal leader. There was some brave chanting before the crowd dispersed. Even if Navalny's people had had an opportunity to fully examine his body, I suspect they would have found no trace of the wicked Kremlin-endorsed practices that killed him.</span></div>Yorkshire Puddinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06019673884543913089noreply@blogger.com28tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883584.post-31116986385014966842024-02-29T23:55:00.001+00:002024-02-29T23:55:53.738+00:00Blessed<p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">As far as I know, I have only one friend in the city of Florence, South Carolina. Her name is Jennifer which means "the fair one". After reading my last blogpost, this is how "the fair one" commented:-</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3v92wbTdSpZFQVdW8CeyInMGYI7wV4Ku1i0mxyulZcI7BVwBSnCqP5fssEERq118gwOX_RGepqdUZ5_n7m6kqBQ4XLau_aypIVpToGsAluCSyDKTR_GP5iZ5dErF4xLzz8fLUhvBZJ_f7rgIFIEHDVXhYYGJttP34SF16NNmYfkvFMNl2PFrJ/s571/Jennifer.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="174" data-original-width="571" height="195" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3v92wbTdSpZFQVdW8CeyInMGYI7wV4Ku1i0mxyulZcI7BVwBSnCqP5fssEERq118gwOX_RGepqdUZ5_n7m6kqBQ4XLau_aypIVpToGsAluCSyDKTR_GP5iZ5dErF4xLzz8fLUhvBZJ_f7rgIFIEHDVXhYYGJttP34SF16NNmYfkvFMNl2PFrJ/w637-h195/Jennifer.png" width="637" /></a></div><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Naturally, I was upset and anxious to repair my relationship with Jennifer. After all, as an old saying declares, "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned".</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">And so today, after driving back to Sheffield this afternoon, I am about to post a picture of Zach and his Yorkshire grandpa taken just yesterday in the top floor restaurant of the Peter Jones <i>(John Lewis)</i> department store by Sloane Square, London.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvcEvCehu4wH3pxHZdwCYo7cFF4tycbdN6BaagDg1OW6eLQaWkL4yBrGJgFHeTs0KhFlauugxCNxtR-iKDW81eYbbtDlY-ofMwBqY7KjmgvgA70pKRZgti49fBN23WkaZlkLapS7YvTyibEHczYXN-TYPhTI4at2TFZPaNeOQuAmS4tpboBFGV/s1920/ME%20AND%20ZACH.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1920" data-original-width="1440" height="735" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvcEvCehu4wH3pxHZdwCYo7cFF4tycbdN6BaagDg1OW6eLQaWkL4yBrGJgFHeTs0KhFlauugxCNxtR-iKDW81eYbbtDlY-ofMwBqY7KjmgvgA70pKRZgti49fBN23WkaZlkLapS7YvTyibEHczYXN-TYPhTI4at2TFZPaNeOQuAmS4tpboBFGV/w551-h735/ME%20AND%20ZACH.jpg" width="551" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Grandpa is saying, "Where's the money kid? Tell me where you put it!"</span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Zach is thinking, "There's no way I am going to spill the beans! I ain't afraid of this grandpa guy. I don't care how big he is!"</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Again the little man looks kind of serious but I am happy to report that over the past four days we witnessed many smiles, interesting attempts at verbalisation and various explorations with hands and fingers. We learnt to love him more than before. Ian and Sarah are truly blessed to have little Zachary in their lives and we are too.</span></p>Yorkshire Puddinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06019673884543913089noreply@blogger.com41tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883584.post-56920416632407384352024-02-28T23:41:00.002+00:002024-02-28T23:44:13.464+00:00Londinium<p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu7YlzuehzZmCd6axStw1jZ46JR_M7ExgCNxrdZhafsLxkhdPKsWo3H2W_Sb43qDBqYnOlcyu6ymvRy34NgDKG2muvp7wxWhgL2qMwhGGkXiIB_X6EmvYruhuo4gsd6cNCC8RrimVmP2aJ7SDlK6iS5w2zwPRT2z-zdgx8srdo9mt3-cNyszgl/s4865/DSC09682.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3585" data-original-width="4865" height="444" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu7YlzuehzZmCd6axStw1jZ46JR_M7ExgCNxrdZhafsLxkhdPKsWo3H2W_Sb43qDBqYnOlcyu6ymvRy34NgDKG2muvp7wxWhgL2qMwhGGkXiIB_X6EmvYruhuo4gsd6cNCC8RrimVmP2aJ7SDlK6iS5w2zwPRT2z-zdgx8srdo9mt3-cNyszgl/w601-h444/DSC09682.JPG" width="601" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">American gas guzzling car on Bishop's Road, Fulham... actually </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">this </span><span style="font-family: arial;">tiny car is an electric vehicle. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">You may or may not have gathered that we are currently down in London. Because we drove down this time, I was able to bring the old laptop - the one with the broken "s" key. It makes typing anything problematic. I wish the broken key was an "x" or a "z". That would make written communication a lot easier.</span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Ian is away in The Colonies just now, visiting a little known fishing village called </span><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">San Francisco. Then he will be in The City of York's little brother settlement - New York City for two nights before heading home to London and his lovely girlfriend Sarah and baby son Zachary.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3zE9ZWQF_a1ommB5lX5rLdQsbVTjrBSZm_89CUVIOTe9ELive7MMDQLcXBTUpF2LCrp6VUsIcYMt7eSCdOYaHngwGDf-KLqczEcc5-KP9EsJWcOoOhN4LOs2C-5yY34Y9ZEGjpbA-TLkHYoTa5M7xvulju8NdKppUi922qAuzIGLwPtV0U9Tt/s4780/DSC09681.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4780" data-original-width="3419" height="472" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3zE9ZWQF_a1ommB5lX5rLdQsbVTjrBSZm_89CUVIOTe9ELive7MMDQLcXBTUpF2LCrp6VUsIcYMt7eSCdOYaHngwGDf-KLqczEcc5-KP9EsJWcOoOhN4LOs2C-5yY34Y9ZEGjpbA-TLkHYoTa5M7xvulju8NdKppUi922qAuzIGLwPtV0U9Tt/w337-h472/DSC09681.JPG" width="337" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Historical </span><span style="font-family: arial;">milestone by Fulham Road</span></div></div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Zach is over four months' old now. With his big brown eyes, he is absorbing so much every day and he thrashes about, reaching out for things and studying faces. He gobbles down baby rice and will soon get to taste some other soft or pureed baby foods.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Today, by bus, the four of us went on a little shopping expedition to Sloane Square where we visited the John Lewis department store. We had lunch in the sixth floor restaurant which has marvellous views over that part of affluent west London.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">And now I am afraid that I am getting increasingly fed up with finding ways of addressing the </span><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">"s" key issue. Fish and chips for tea. </span><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">We'll be driving home tomorrow.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiGjyjTjaZdRclBFeyHwWKBSJH20Dj1-MIIZ1umf3lF4PWGcE7FzQ44pwJiTPGMmKu1m_AWFCy6vrLfhBG7qf5idMufeQ6eRlzZ-iZkg2_ZNLvimdG_5eIGxMMEzkLlJcyXk_YTCqkbnZvzQS3JqVpFnLb7BxLs-FCnpVdfQVTc_lh69FkiD2R/s5057/DSC09673.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5057" data-original-width="3757" height="520" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiGjyjTjaZdRclBFeyHwWKBSJH20Dj1-MIIZ1umf3lF4PWGcE7FzQ44pwJiTPGMmKu1m_AWFCy6vrLfhBG7qf5idMufeQ6eRlzZ-iZkg2_ZNLvimdG_5eIGxMMEzkLlJcyXk_YTCqkbnZvzQS3JqVpFnLb7BxLs-FCnpVdfQVTc_lh69FkiD2R/w387-h520/DSC09673.JPG" width="387" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Memorial obelisk by the A3 on Putney Heath. It is dedicated to the invention</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">of a fire safety construction method developed by one David Hartley in the</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">1770's just over a century after The Great Fire of London. His system </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">proved to be unworkable, costly and over-hyped.</span></div>Yorkshire Puddinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06019673884543913089noreply@blogger.com36tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883584.post-30866756496663595142024-02-27T22:00:00.002+00:002024-02-28T11:15:30.675+00:00Pilgrimage<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6lTX8QetUWSjTTMcyVXTi9yj2bpaoQKzBQuenlwX1PYvQu6WL9dNp7OY8CldobeaEL2k4JtCcacoKIGY7CheYPIj7MwipNt4hFOacCwG2_xuBZgdzCUTifaTBIBR9y3wwdd0-pPddo19-WkTE6_ZyyFqRVTplVZlnAjCBkqOX-FrfLd8YfxNY/s4391/DSC09656.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3185" data-original-width="4391" height="420" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6lTX8QetUWSjTTMcyVXTi9yj2bpaoQKzBQuenlwX1PYvQu6WL9dNp7OY8CldobeaEL2k4JtCcacoKIGY7CheYPIj7MwipNt4hFOacCwG2_xuBZgdzCUTifaTBIBR9y3wwdd0-pPddo19-WkTE6_ZyyFqRVTplVZlnAjCBkqOX-FrfLd8YfxNY/w580-h420/DSC09656.JPG" width="580" /></a></div><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Today, following in <a href="https://shadowsteve.blogspot.com/search?q=sandy+denny">Steve Reed's footsteps</a>, I made it to Putney Vale Cemetery where Sandy Denny is buried. Her voice and her song-writing figured importantly in the soundtrack of my teenage years.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkvd4TCZIFB4EGS_ADIMFyiQGHklUUYX0ce8Un6X8vo8i7GCm0QhdlNfW8tpEhRPOrqP9OL5uCypEhdpFmwdBQqe80Efql636n6Sjp-ROROjdysTFQd4Aix-q1r8AwPKzaGn829xfcQ-sw3nSIj6dBdAIcu7wzQ1N52W_SpwPquM6uUMOCZGIh/s4688/DSC09661.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3428" data-original-width="4688" height="429" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkvd4TCZIFB4EGS_ADIMFyiQGHklUUYX0ce8Un6X8vo8i7GCm0QhdlNfW8tpEhRPOrqP9OL5uCypEhdpFmwdBQqe80Efql636n6Sjp-ROROjdysTFQd4Aix-q1r8AwPKzaGn829xfcQ-sw3nSIj6dBdAIcu7wzQ1N52W_SpwPquM6uUMOCZGIh/w588-h429/DSC09661.JPG" width="588" /></a></span></div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">She died a tragic death at the tender age of thirty one. Her only child - Georgia - had been born just nine months earlier. I took a handful of white flowers to Sandy's grave and I popped them in a heavy glass vase that I found tipped over behind her gravestone. With a little water I hoped they might last longer.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">That's when I noticed the grave immediately behind hers. It contains the mortal remains of her mother Edna, her father Neil and her brother David. The latter died in a tragic Colorado car crash in 1980 - just two years after his more famous sister.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1012M90D3jKYf2I5WLfnfGyN0C-lof489CWdc4g13uVPEmq9zk1786ivzt2WF8j9HyT9GH0FQp9ZQFrnBObMLtoPF1en1vDPt3Drvgewppsn4KcOTwKlTk8UWx4PbOv2QvNnG_IrHuDQTJqSsy6HfryubGjpvMy8FxzXLXqFyINqVVzAYUJvh/s5184/DSC09655.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5184" data-original-width="3888" height="797" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1012M90D3jKYf2I5WLfnfGyN0C-lof489CWdc4g13uVPEmq9zk1786ivzt2WF8j9HyT9GH0FQp9ZQFrnBObMLtoPF1en1vDPt3Drvgewppsn4KcOTwKlTk8UWx4PbOv2QvNnG_IrHuDQTJqSsy6HfryubGjpvMy8FxzXLXqFyINqVVzAYUJvh/w598-h797/DSC09655.JPG" width="598" /></a></div><p></p>Yorkshire Puddinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06019673884543913089noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883584.post-45237218787761355622024-02-25T23:30:00.002+00:002024-02-26T09:43:41.741+00:00Quiztime<p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGBs76UbSfB9kl5nDxRKepPHI2q1HbmFvR15DCAdssbbd9ohPw2iUmA3PH8uCkkDHF-utj1WRAQ5gHbQqKAoVWF8ZCjpb2BixsqXw7cb9LboNVll_dvbervbHLJPVZA1FXyQbz7V9UGvG7DJv1rgxxkHDuaHoYu4XAyoDKT3B_biixqyg0sE2Y/s1024/QuizTime_14-1024x577.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="577" data-original-width="1024" height="356" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGBs76UbSfB9kl5nDxRKepPHI2q1HbmFvR15DCAdssbbd9ohPw2iUmA3PH8uCkkDHF-utj1WRAQ5gHbQqKAoVWF8ZCjpb2BixsqXw7cb9LboNVll_dvbervbHLJPVZA1FXyQbz7V9UGvG7DJv1rgxxkHDuaHoYu4XAyoDKT3B_biixqyg0sE2Y/w633-h356/QuizTime_14-1024x577.jpg" width="633" /></a></div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">As usual we were up at the quiz at "The Hammer and Pincers". Of course, the quiz questions tend to have a British bias but with that in mind I am nonetheless giving you ten of the twenty five questions to have a stab at. The answers will be given in the Comments section.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">1. Which national flag is green with a red circle in the middle?</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">2. Which Beatle would have been 81 years old this past weekend?</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">3. In translation which Italian pasta means "little ribbons"?</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">4. From which sport do these terms come - turkey, badger, sparrow and gutter ball?</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">5. Which term connects offence, annoyance and the shadow cast by trees?</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"> 6. Anagram of a famous person - CAKE CLAIMS JOHN.</span></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">7. Name the year - <i>(It's the same year!)</i><br /><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">The film "Grease" was released starring John Travolta and Olivia Newton John</span></li><li><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">"Space Invaders" the computer game was released</span></li><li><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">The American soap opera "Dallas" was first aired on TV.</span></li></ul><div>8. Which vehicle was the subject of the 1990 film, "The Hunt For Red October"?</div><div><br /></div><div>9. Which flavour of soup is made from the tails of bovine animals?</div><div><br /></div><div>10. Which well-known family resided at 0001 Cemetery Lane?</div></span></div>Yorkshire Puddinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06019673884543913089noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883584.post-22832395645815529342024-02-24T23:30:00.005+00:002024-02-25T12:58:41.570+00:00Explanation<p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijsWthcX3jbg-VHFulEUzWXW0JvC_hYwED78-1ruk8zYF2ajFRiJrdWR1X-IQ4rwJwzc5tfIWe6lpqIeJ0ib9tl2JE8JGr7eOJDVcfKOq03GNsU7N2bOFUZkaNHpRHbgoQm2l5-MBQ_SSTV7JjEteRtEitHvLbDwuUoSv3mJ9q1ma9-Y-m-EDA/s1600/Misandry.webp" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="476" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijsWthcX3jbg-VHFulEUzWXW0JvC_hYwED78-1ruk8zYF2ajFRiJrdWR1X-IQ4rwJwzc5tfIWe6lpqIeJ0ib9tl2JE8JGr7eOJDVcfKOq03GNsU7N2bOFUZkaNHpRHbgoQm2l5-MBQ_SSTV7JjEteRtEitHvLbDwuUoSv3mJ9q1ma9-Y-m-EDA/w634-h476/Misandry.webp" width="634" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><div style="text-align: justify;">Over several months, I became friendly with Janet, a dizzy grandmother who used to come into the Oxfam shop where I worked. She usually appeared in the last hour before closing time. I also met her daughter, her son-in-law and her two young grandchildren - Loretta and Roy. They were the reason she had moved up to Sheffield from Birmingham.</div></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Janet was always looking out for things she could buy for the kids - little treats, toys, books or items of clothing. She was very kind and I often chatted to her. Like her daughter and son-in-law, she was staunchly working class with typically old-fashioned values.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">The manager of the shop was Catherine - a couple of years younger than me and in most ways a great, hard-working shop manager but looking back I think she was also a bit of a misandrist*. She had put a poster up in the shared staff toilet advising men about how to use toilets, including leaving the toilet seat down for female users. It was not a joke.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Anyway at the back of the shop floor there was a door that led to the staff area and just beyond that door you would often find Catherine sorting out clothing donations - separating the wheat from the chaff as it were. On the shop side of the door was where children's books and toys were displayed.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">Late on a Wednesday afternoon in March 2020 with no other customers in the shop, Janet had found a colouring book that she wanted to give to her little grandson Roy. She showed it to me and asked what I thought about it. Now this colouring book was very clearly aimed at little girls. It had a pink cover and contained mermaids and seahorses and cute little princesses.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">I said to Janet, "I think it's aimed at little girls and I am not sure that your daughter and son-in-law would be too happy about it, Maybe we can find something more suitable for Roy."</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">At that moment the back door opened and in front of Janet I was angrily berated by Catherine, "How dare you say that! If my daughter heard you saying that about books she would rip your head off!"</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">I was flabbergasted but because Janet was still standing there I could not say a thing.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">I had worked at the Oxfam shop for just over five years and because of that had received a bronze badge for my voluntary service. Although I could have done battle with Catherine and given her a piece of my mind about this incident, I decided to walk away instead.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">The following week when she was having a day off, I left a letter on her desk saying, "I have always been happy working in this shop and I am proud of the service I have given to Oxfam but I am not happy any more and so I won't be returning". When you are an unpaid volunteer you have that luxury of being able to just walk away.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">The</span></span><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"> following week the shop closed for the duration of the first COVID lockdown. I still think to myself - how dare she try to angrily correct me in front of a customer and how dare she jump to such a wrongful conclusion anyway. She had, I think, never seen or met Janet before and knew nothing about her circumstances.</span></p><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><span style="font-size: medium;">* </span></span><i style="font-family: Merriweather;">misandrist = a person who hates men just as a </i></div><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><div style="text-align: right;"><i>misogynist is defined as a person who hates women.</i></div></span></div>Yorkshire Puddinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06019673884543913089noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883584.post-22541996632575336642024-02-23T15:06:00.150+00:002024-02-25T00:46:35.122+00:00"Sheffield"<p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRQ5Vd2EEK9tmDp5KfORe4O2tXZdJQhsIGnNrAe5iCZH4rHSgIc5le5pnWIaYs3NQzShGYz6ovoQ5DPI2Sz_vU4-xxEvp7woDd3ErPcQ3CnT0iprfRyJU57DPnJdZbxk5Pc65oxQcbjlB7rIBMwMR1tEJwLmM6ZapLLdaX-88furJzaML16W4l/s265/bdb2b4b5da2d9c7af6e3f6d217cad8c1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="204" data-original-width="265" height="379" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRQ5Vd2EEK9tmDp5KfORe4O2tXZdJQhsIGnNrAe5iCZH4rHSgIc5le5pnWIaYs3NQzShGYz6ovoQ5DPI2Sz_vU4-xxEvp7woDd3ErPcQ3CnT0iprfRyJU57DPnJdZbxk5Pc65oxQcbjlB7rIBMwMR1tEJwLmM6ZapLLdaX-88furJzaML16W4l/w492-h379/bdb2b4b5da2d9c7af6e3f6d217cad8c1.jpg" width="492" /></a></div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">I was going to apologise about the messy video content in this blogpost. It just would not load up and display as I intended. All I was trying to do was to upload a single tiktok video - the subject of which is a poem called <b>"Sheffield"</b> read out on a BBC radio show by <b>John Cooper-Clarke</b> who is sometimes referred to as Britain's alternative poet laureate. He is also often called our number one punk poet though he scorns that label</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">He's 75 years old now and still going strong in spite of the fact that he looks as though he is suffering from some kind of terminal disease. Anyway, I hope I have got the tiktok link almost sorted now. You may only get to see a section of the radio reading.Afterwards, you'll find the written version of this poem.</span></p><blockquote cite="https://www.tiktok.com/@bbc6music/video/7336176695411494176" class="tiktok-embed" data-video-id="7336176695411494176" style="max-width: 605px; min-width: 325px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='485' height='404' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dy8yJXp-G0NF5ubriQ-7PBC1XXxLTmyTFWdscaiHUXUtX1zFnMriplaNxoQyugGTLbfMB_0ANsLqaM' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div></blockquote><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">This northern city where I am typing now is used to being neglected, overlooked, almost unseen in spite of the fact that it has a population of well over half a million so I wasn't going to allow a frustrating technical tangle to prevent me from sharing the poem tonight. Thank you for your forbearance. </span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather; font-size: large;"> ⦿</span></p><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>SHEFFIELD</b></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>I’ve travelled up and down this country<br />From St Helens down to St Ives<br />I’ve dined in the finest of places,<br />and there’s one word I read on the knives<br />displayed on any blade of quality<br />Sheffield Sheffield Sheffield<br />It calls to me.<br />I’m going to Sheffield<br />I really rate it<br />I mean Sheffield<br />I’m gonna reiterate it</b><br /></span><br /><b><span style="font-size: large;">S-H-E-F-F-I-E-L-D</span></b><br /><br /><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Sheffield Sheffield Sheffield<br />It’s got to be.<br />There’s Richard Hawley on the corner<br />The Cockers both Jarvis and Joe<br />Henderson’s Relish to order<br />And a steak and kidney to go<br />Park Hill's airborne avenues above.<br />Sheffield – that’s a place I love.<br />I’m going to Sheffield<br />The reputation is stainless<br />Oh yeah Sheffield<br />Internationally famous<br />Where hobnail boots are shabby chic<br />And Wednesday ain’t some day of the week</span></b><br /><br /><b><span style="font-size: large;">S-H-E-F-F-I-E-L-D</span></b><br /><br /><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Sheffield Sheffield Sheffield<br />Shoo be doo bee doeee<br />I’m going to Sheffield<br />My destiny walks here<br />You heard me right Sheffield<br />Republic of South Yorkshire<br />It’s a town that’s out on its own<br />I’m gonna shout it down this microphone<br />Sheffield is my second home</span></b></span><div><span style="font-family: Merriweather; font-size: medium;"><b>Sweet home sweet home<br />Sweet home sweet swingin’ ho-ome</b></span> <script async="" src="https://www.tiktok.com/embed.js"></script></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather; font-size: medium;"><b><i>by John Cooper-Clarke</i></b></span></div>Yorkshire Puddinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06019673884543913089noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883584.post-21900082358031115962024-02-22T23:52:00.004+00:002024-02-23T01:11:43.260+00:00Ectopic<p></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXfGeqTj8uohmjkuxhc8UZi_Is4DsJ-7K9a75pd-j761WJjTP5AmSbMoK-pBbfkYVMQA8JAsEPpbA-nBRJdi_zw1fpJrgYAMHvH57_7mDiNAB5ISxCsv50ETYRAmrE8xoL3LJb1VOYF40nmaHsYdOXHbuKZelWGPvRFuI0SJJXc3utRwhGuq4S/s475/ectopic.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="288" data-original-width="475" height="272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXfGeqTj8uohmjkuxhc8UZi_Is4DsJ-7K9a75pd-j761WJjTP5AmSbMoK-pBbfkYVMQA8JAsEPpbA-nBRJdi_zw1fpJrgYAMHvH57_7mDiNAB5ISxCsv50ETYRAmrE8xoL3LJb1VOYF40nmaHsYdOXHbuKZelWGPvRFuI0SJJXc3utRwhGuq4S/w449-h272/ectopic.png" width="449" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Merriweather;"><div style="text-align: justify;">Probably, apart from some ignorant folk who fully support the anti-abortion movement in America, most of us have heard of ectopic pregnancies. The medical term "ectopic" comes from the Greek word "ektopos" which means "out of place" but in emotional terms the word could just as easily mean tears and bitter disappointment mingled with fear of dying.</div></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">An ectopic pregnancy usually involves a fertilised egg attaching itself to the inner wall of a fallopian tube. Over the last hundred years, the only medical response has been surgical removal of that fallopian tube. If allowed to grow, the tiny foetus would, in almost all cases, put the unlucky woman involved in serious danger of death.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">In early 1986, I remember Shirley telling me one day that she believed she was pregnant again. She had noticed the early physical signs that she had experienced just two years before after our Ian was conceived. We were both delighted and Shirley's smile was for a brief period as angelic as only an expectant mother's smile can be.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">But a week later, at the doctor's surgery, though a pregnancy was confirmed, something was wrong. It turned out that her pregnancy was ectopic and emergency surgery was required. The potential human being inside her didn't have a name and we don't know if it was male or female. I was just thankful that Shirley was alive - that she had survived this serious threat to her existence.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqpfuE1YExyiF5fbDyeS7lzc2H9_9fS2gFdmcdi30iZIq3IEOIHEKihd3_qWBLRn4j4pU6eoVIpEuqpYGoGJ45ME8eBaA0gjKL8Pe_XxLrdl7j16wNdLnY9Oc1OwQdTMUbqoD1W7YQ4rnCKYdnO3RDujn9HHUN36UtGbfxdcOCgSAdzabCFLDY/s1026/BC_Ectopic-Pregnancy_v2-with-text_wide.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="555" data-original-width="1026" height="352" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqpfuE1YExyiF5fbDyeS7lzc2H9_9fS2gFdmcdi30iZIq3IEOIHEKihd3_qWBLRn4j4pU6eoVIpEuqpYGoGJ45ME8eBaA0gjKL8Pe_XxLrdl7j16wNdLnY9Oc1OwQdTMUbqoD1W7YQ4rnCKYdnO3RDujn9HHUN36UtGbfxdcOCgSAdzabCFLDY/w650-h352/BC_Ectopic-Pregnancy_v2-with-text_wide.png" width="650" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">In 2019, a bill to ban abortion introduced in the Ohio state legislature requires doctors to “reimplant an ectopic pregnancy” into a woman’s uterus – a procedure that does not even exist in medical science – or face charges of “abortion murder”. The legislators pressed on without paying heed to the fact that there had never been a successful reimplanting in such circumstances. Plain crazy. I guess the reality of ectopic pregnancy does not fit comfortably into the anti-abortionist, "Pro-Life" narrative.</span></div><p></p><span><div style="font-family: Merriweather; text-align: justify;">Fortunately, healthy women have two fallopian tubes and after Shirley had avoided possible death, our lives continued till in 1988 we were blessed with a second child - this time a beautiful daughter who we named Frances Emily. Fears about the possibility of another ectopic episode evaporated at the end of the first trimester.</div><div style="font-family: Merriweather; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="font-family: Merriweather; text-align: justify;">In late 1989 or was it early 1990, Shirley told me that she was again pregnant. After all, she knew the signs. Instinctively, I was anxious and I even asked if it could possibly be another ectopic pregnancy but she she assured me that such a tragedy could not befall us a second time. However, my worry was ominous and after some discomfort and bleeding a second ectopic pregnancy was diagnosed and once again emergency surgery was required.</div><div style="font-family: Merriweather; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="font-family: Merriweather; text-align: justify;">As in 1986, we never knew the gender of the wrongly placed embryo - no bigger than a small pea and we never gave it a name. Sadly, just like the other fertilised egg it was one of Nature's errors, a stray bullet, a might-have-been. Of course this second episode meant that Shirley could never again naturally carry another child.</div><ul style="font-family: Merriweather; text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-family: Acme; font-size: large;">Overall, ectopic pregnancies annually affect less than 2% of pregnant women worldwide.</span></li><li><span style="font-family: Acme; font-size: large;">In Great Britain, between 2003 and 2005 there were 32,100 ectopic pregnancies resulting in 10 maternal deaths</span></li><li><span style="font-family: Acme; font-size: large;">In the developing world, however, especially in Africa, the death rate is very high, and ectopic pregnancies are a major cause of death among women of childbearing age.</span></li><li><span style="font-family: Acme; font-size: large;">In women having had an ectopic pregnancy, the risk of another one in the next pregnancy is around 10%</span></li></ul><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Merriweather;">It has taken me almost nineteen years of blogging to tell this story but it has been lurking inside me for much longer than that.</span></div></span>Yorkshire Puddinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06019673884543913089noreply@blogger.com40