December was long this year, wasn’t it ?
I made the journey from Waterbeach to Hillsborough’s Big Yellow Storage 8 times in 9 days, moving equivalent numbers of Fall LPs and Mrs RM’s shoes and spice collections.
And then on the 11th, said farewell to the Chung Hwa and the Sun,
and hello to the Blind Monkey. Which is closed.
These first 3 weeks in Walkley have been so busy I haven’t had time to be frustrated at the wealth of closed pubs on my doorsteps. Look what glories await in the Spring !
The sun shone on the most important day of the year, and I spent my birthday in Dungworth eating artisan ice cream and picking up a keg of Bradfield from the brewery.
You folk seemed surprisingly keen to read about my aimless wanders in search of closed pubs and brutalism, so I made a special effort on Christmas Day (an important day to some) to bring you Bass lamps and brown tiling. I’m all heart.
Easy to forget some of us we were allowed to visit pubs for a little while in December. Well, not Manchester or Sheffield, obviously, but before the plague descended East Angular was entitled to purchase an alcoholic beverage with an unwanted sandwich that magically kept Covid at bay.
I wasted my window of opportunity (2-11 December) in family diners like the Cuckoo,
and the Swan & Angel, where I observed the first case of punters kicked out of a pub for “lingering“.
How I long to return to a pub and linger over a pint, eavesdropping on domestic drama without the muffle of perspex and clatter of plates.
So, thank you, scientists, and NHS, and Matron May Parsons for getting the vaccine out and into arms within a year. (My parents get their second dose on Sunday, and a weight will lift from my soul).
Despite the lack of pubs, it made December magic, again.