Fish & Nerks

My Leeds born and bred father endearingly labelled them ‘fish and nerks’, or occasionally ‘land and sea’. Depending on the county boundaries you reside, a deep fried takeaway food whose quality and cooking style differs markedly. Thankfully for those of us lucky enough to grace the fields, avenues and alleyways east of the Pennine Hills,…

Return of The Prodigal Sun

It’s back!!…. The prodigal sun has returned to Yorkshire. Kill the fatted calf, ignite the spit roast coals (well, bbq briquettes), replenish your ever depleting vitamin D levels and rejoice! If weather forecasters are to be believed, the UK has entered a meteorological Indian summer stage….. Or was that the India is due a UK…

Out On The Wiley, Windy Moors

I’m jotting down this particular life chronicle close to Haworth, West Yorkshire. My aesthetic companions the same moors which, in the 19th century, inspired the Bronte sisters literary classics. Charlotte, Emily and Anne’s father Patrick the Anglican rector of the nearby village. It’s unlikely my writing in this unspoilt area of the Pennine Hills will…

Grinning Vokes

After a brief sabbatical close to the town of Whitby, I’m back in Leeds. My maison de vacances for the last few days located a five minute stroll from Skinningrove beach, North Yorkshire. It’s unspoilt cove the outstanding feature of this coastal village; a locale which exists in capricious harmony with the North Sea’s unforgiving…

Any Old Iron

Living back in the matriarchal abode has many challenges, one of which the regression back nearly half a century to experiencing admonishment for actions my mother finds irritating. This includes the incessant tapping of my fingers on the kitchen table, bad table manners and the increasing use of curse words, which in recent months have…

Starstruck

This morning I felt moved to say hello to TV broadcasting royalty Harry Gration, who was stood next to me in a coffee outlet queue in Burmantofts, Leeds. A greeting to which he politely responded in kind, prior to us wandered off on our own ways – Me childishly giddy that I’d briefly met the…

Itinerant Werewolf in Ardsley

Over the last twenty four hours or so, a visibility hampering haze has engulfed West Yorkshire. This ‘pea souper’, as my mum would call it in her distinctive Leeds brogue, creating a macabre dream-like scene outside. Unlike my night vision last week where fragrant actress Margot Robbie and me led Leeds United to only their…

Celebration At Ardsley Kirk

I had a rare venture to church yesterday afternoon. A service to celebrate those who’ve passed and whose funerals had taken place at the venue during the previous twelve months. Amongst those being celebrated my father Malcolm. Amid the throng of similarly bereaved families, my mother, me and several family friends lit a candle for…