22 MINUTES WAIT AT WORKSOP STATION ? IT CAN ONLY BE THE MALLARD, THEN

February 2025. Worksop. The last thing you want on the morning of your mum’s funeral is an e-mail deleting your social media account. “A Bluesky account you control has been assessed as a spammy, fake, or inauthentic account.“ Me, “inauthentic” !!! ChatGPT reckoned I’d broke their community guidelines by promoting Doom Bar or something, so… Continue reading 22 MINUTES WAIT AT WORKSOP STATION ? IT CAN ONLY BE THE MALLARD, THEN

CLUTCHING AT (MR) STRAWS. 22 MINUTES TO ADMIRE WORKSOP

February 2025. Worksop. From the funeral in Waterbeach down to Kent and then over two borders to take Father-in-Law to a hospital appointment in East Grinstead (not even a pub stop), and then straight back up the A1 to Sheffield for more death-based paperwork. I needed a break. On Thursday, the sun shone and I… Continue reading CLUTCHING AT (MR) STRAWS. 22 MINUTES TO ADMIRE WORKSOP

WORKSOP – LIQUORICE, LACINGS & FRENCH HORN

Makes Worksop sound exotic, doesn’t it ?  And if you live in South Anston, it probably is. Sadly, the gorgeous tiling often adorns closed or keg pubs, making Worksop the Rotherham or Woolwich orPoole of the Midlands, My route to Sheffield to see my lad often flies past the edge of Worksop, though I reckon… Continue reading WORKSOP – LIQUORICE, LACINGS & FRENCH HORN

“THEY CAN’T SAY HALF IN WORKSOP”

A quick stop in Worksop on the way to Sheffield to ensure James has found the toaster. Lunch is a shared pizza and pint of Punk IPA for £6.49 in the Spoons. “I’m a cheap date” says Mrs RM, cradling her bargain pint as I dash off for a half in my new tick. Worksop… Continue reading “THEY CAN’T SAY HALF IN WORKSOP”