We settled down to hear the entirely unexpected news of Lockdown 3 last night, comforted by a shared can of Gold Label. One can between the two of us was plenty, I have to say.
Gold Label was the best option from that Whitehouse Convenience Store I keep marking on the OS extracts.
It’s that or Doom Bar (£2.49 a bottle) or a four pack of John Smiths Smooths; a rare haven from the craft that pervades the rest of Sheffield’s supermarkets;
What am I going to write about, while Mrs RM creates an impressionist masterpiece living room ?
Well, there’s wildlife in Walkley. Someone has spotted a Reynard,
while our garden seems to be the favourite of the feline population. Note the black cat attempting to hide from the white one; probably a metaphor. Makes a change from the Fen Tiger.
Meanwhile, Sheffield’s art treasures pop in unexpected places.
And it’s hard to escape Jarvis.
I’ll do a post reflecting on what it’s like to be a Southerner in the North, perhaps when I’ve drunk this scary looking bottle of resinous barley wine.
This will pass. In the meantime, I’m taking requests for blog posts again.