Moorthorpe

With everything that has been going on, it would be easy to imagine that the COVID pandemic is over. But it's not over. Only this morning, my South Korean friend Clint informed me that he had tested positive. Consequently, he would be unable to transport me to the nether regions of South Yorkshire for a long walk in unfamiliar territory.
I took a local train instead. Beforehand I caught a public bus into the city centre but would you believe it! The electrical systems aboard the bus malfunctioned when we reached the bottom of a long shopping street called The Moor. I jumped off the bus and marched half a mile to the railway station, making my train with less that a minute to spare.
The train was heading for Leeds. It was a slow train that stopped at every station on route. We were in a landscape that once belonged to coal mining but of course now the collieries are all gone. Only the memories remain, becoming more diatant with each passing year.
I alighted form the train as planned at Moorthorpe, sandwiched between South Kirkby and South Elmsall. Then I set off north. In the wasteland north of South Kirkby I met a lone woman with a big brown dog. She was standing by the track drinking a can of strong lager. I conversed with her as the dog barked and sniffed. "He'll not hurt you," she assured me,
Typically my walking route was circular. I plodded through a large village called Hemsworth where I once played rugby as a schoolboy. After a long while, the circle brought me back to South Kirkby where I stopped to admire the statue of a coal miner. It was nice to make it back to the railway station in good time to make the 15.20 train back to Sheffield.
Top picture - A bamboo grove at Royd Moor Farm
Second picture - Fish and chip shop in South Kirkby
Third picture - Image on a concrete block by the railway at Mutton Flats
Fourth picture -  Terraced streets at Moorthorpe
Fifth picture - Two off licences at Moorthorpe (American - liquor stores)
Sixth picture - Statue of a coalminer at South Kirkby


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Moving On



I got home from London just after midday.
I was studying the film Stagecoach on zoom by 1pm
And I was fast asleep in front of the fire by 6 pm , so bloody well missed choir.
I think I needed the nap

Nuala told me yesterday that she texted a mutual friend on Sunday to remind her that they had started nursing on March 6th back in 1989. 
I suddenly recognised the date but said nothing
March 6th 2015 was the date of my wedding Anniversary 

And for the first time in seven years,  I had forgotten the day.


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🇺🇦

 I’m slowly learning 

How to live again

It’s frightening

Yet exhilarating

I’m getting brave

Again

The realization

Came after

An early morning

Plunge into 

A cool pool

I’m living again

In honor

Of every Ukrainian

Fighting for

That right



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Cabaret

 

I adored CABARET 
The whole of the Playhouse theatre has been transformed into the 1930s KitKat Club with many of the patrons sat at tables around the stage with drinks and lamp lighting. 
Nu and I sipped our champagne from real glasses and sat back and emmersed ourselves into a heady art deco Berlin galloping towards fascism 
Eddie Ramayne was suitably seedy and knowing as the ever present Emcee,  Jessie Buckley provided a rather different Sally Bowles with her plummy English Accent and short stature but she truly smashed her big number " life is a Cabaret " with style. 
I found the sub plot story of the September love affair between the aging apartment owner Frau Schnieder and Jewish fruit seller Herr Shultz (Dan Levy)
 incredibly poignant, and when the Nazi threat started to show its teeth their predicament is wonderfully moving. 
A standing ovation summed up everything for me. 
The best show I've seen since Come From Away








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