Northern Roots

Hello lovely people, this video was shot during the launch of 'Our North' a CD compiled of various Barnsley poets. Our next Barnsley Spoken Word Collective event will be held at the Old School House, Barnsley (Used to be the Polish Club) on Sunday, February 16th at 4.30 p.m. It is a Valentine Special. Come along and have a laugh!

I'm not quite in my normal routine yet and it is almost the end of January, but I am getting into a certain rhythm. Pilley Hill three times a week, back to healthy living, and looking forward to Ballroom Dancing Classes in Barnsley. I'm going to attend a Creative Writing workshop and I am hitting my reading targets. So all in my world is well, if indeed all is not well in the world at large. 

I am aware of the Coronavirus that is sweeping China, but I'm not worried about it, and hopefully it will be contained. 

Brexit means Brexit! 31st January. Are you celebrating? It's a bone of contention. The way I look at it is let's just hit the future with as much zeal as we can muster. Whether you are a Brexiteer or not, we are where we are, and we should all pull in the same direction for great things to happen. Personally I have no time for negative thoughts or actions that only cause misery. So let's all be positive and party our way into a productive, pioneering, and perspicacious future.

And, by the way, a fifty pence piece is a fifty pence piece, and if it's in my pocket it will be very much appreciated cum Shed night when I want a can of cider.

Love and hugs,

Jane x

P.S. I've just read a very interesting story called 'Flowers for Algernon' by Daniel Keyes.  

You might like to take a look for yourself.

Home Alone in Barnsley

Hello lovely blog-friend,

Here we are again, another week gone by, another tock on the clock of life, another swing of the universal pendulum. And still in the momentum of that swing we head into another sparkling week. So, what bits of minutiae of life have I accumulated over the past seven days to deposit in the old memory bank?

Well, for starters, David popped off to see our daughter, Jo, so I was left in a peony blossom of peacefulness, with not one person to fuss over, but myself for the whole week. Yes, it was quiet, and I did find myself talking to the shadow of a person sitting on the settee, but in all honesty, I enjoyed the solitude. I found an abundance of time for reading, and I managed to finish the novel, Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine, by Gail Honeyman. I made a start on Stephen Fry's Mythos, too (and it's not about a Greek beer). As there will be no middle of the night reading now hubby is back, that may take longer to read, but hey, I'm not complaining.

After watching Junior Bake Off, I thought, well, if a kid can do it, so can I, so I set about baking a batch of biscuits, which turned out surprisingly well. I made so many that I had to freeze a batch and I still had a tin full. Having home made biscuits in the tin didn't do much for my diet, but I can report that I rationed myself each day, and there were still plenty left for when David came home.

The weather was slightly inclement - in truth it wellied it down -  but I did manage to get out and about. After a couple of trips to Aldi's -  ten minutes walk up the road (not exactly a marathon) -  I braved the bus to town, or should I say 'tarn' as they call it in Barnsley, I even trotted up the stairs and sat on the top deck. I got off the bus outside the new doctors' surgeries, and made my way through the tunnel that goes under the main road, and towards the back entrance of the Alambra shopping centre. There is a second tunnel where nine out of ten times one of Barnsley's homeless people is usually found squatting in the cold and the damp, hoping for a bit of loose change. On Thursday, this person was crouched with a snuggly, brown duvet cum sleeping bag wrapped around him. He wasn't spaced out or anything, and he said hello as I passed. I stopped. We chatted. Apparently he had nowhere to live. He said he kept going to the Civic but with no result, but he assured me that he didn't sleep in doorways when it was raining, and that he could find a bed when it was really cold. It upsets me all this homelessness. I dropped a couple of pounds in his tin and said goodbye. Why would anyone sit in a puddly tunnel? If it's mental health issues then he should be helped. Who is responsible? I'll try to find out.

I went into the library, the new all singing library that has just been built and recently opened on the high street. It's airy, light, warm, has excellent toilet facilities, but I'm not sure how it works - the library that is, not the toilet. Am I supposed to sit in one of the booths, go online and order a book, or what? There are hardly any shelves with books on them. An old lady (yes older than me) came up to me and asked where all the books were, I had to say I didn't know, and not wanting a book that day because I had my Eleanor Oliphant with me, I couldn't be arsed to find an assistant and ask. But I will go back this week and find out exactly how the library works.

The main reason I had taken myself off to Barnsley was the grotesque grinding noise that was coming from my next door neighbour's house. He's renovating and having all the old plaster stammer-gunned from his walls. It was unbearable, and I had to vacate and debunk to the library. By the time I got home all was calm again, until I got Valentino out and started to practise my scales. (Is it practise or practice? I'll look it up). I only did an hour. I'm on to Christmas Carols now, maybe I'll treat you to my music for Christmas, if you're good that is.

Well, that was Thursday. On Friday I was out again to my little volunteer job, and on Saturday, the minute the hammering and banging started again, I was up and off to Barnsley. I had toyed with the idea of going to Meadowhall, but the thought of all those bodies coughing and sneezing, and the heat and dry air of the shopping centre, put me off. So I donned my new winter coat, (the first year I've not bought one from the charity shop), and all snuggly, I set off -  after lunch, so I wouldn't be tempted to buy cake. I caught the 12.58p.m. 66 bus into tarn and spent the whole afternoon looking around the shops. I bought a bottle of bleach for £1 and then took myself off into the Falco Lounge for a glass of mulled wine. It was delicious! There was a happiness in the place reminiscent of busy Greek restaurants, but the staff were so busy they never got round to clearing my table of the last family's empty glasses, and a pile of children's play bricks. I was tempted to build a little house, but I didn't.

I called at the Post Office in Birdwell when I got off the bus, and bought a bottle of lemonade and four cans of cider -  there's two left. The lemonade was for if my grandchildren ever come to see me, but as one is in Tokyo, and the other a 17 year old with better things to do, the bottle remains unopened. It was nice to at least say 'Hello' to the people who own the Post Office, they always have a smile.

David came home late Saturday evening, so my single life has come to a close for the time being. I'm not talking to shadows anymore, and I don't need the extra duvet to keep me warm in bed. Yeah! And now the biscuit tin is almost empty, I can think about baking more goodies, which is always a challenge.

Yesterday, after the Andrew Marr show - because we always watch the Andrew Marr show - we tripped off to the Craft Fair at Elsecar. I bought a couple of Christmas presents, and I came home with a new dress from a little boutique inside the Heritage Centre. Another Yeah! After a pitstop at the Maison de Bierre (where I drank a sensible tonic water), we made our way home.

Today, Monday, the weekly washing is done, and it is coming up to midday, time for Daily Politics on BBC 2. With the election coming up there is always heated debate. All sides seem to be promising all things - we'll see. The other main topic of the day is Prince Andrew and an interview he gave on the TV about his position as regards the Epstein sex offender case. Personally, I don't think he should have given the interview, but now he has, are we getting a ten courser of it. I think I prefer Brexit talk, and that's saying something.

Anyway, I'll say ta ta, for now, and wish you a fun filled week. Sometimes it's the little things that can make life so exciting - like sneaking that last biscuit. Live in the moment, and enjoy every second.

Love and hugs,

Jane x

P.S. Book Alert!!!!!!!!! Higgs Bottom by Jane Sharp. Get your copy here.

 The Man is Home! Yeah!!!!!!!!!!!!

Crazy Choc Cookies

Mulled wine in the Falcon Lounge, Barnsley

Just a quickie in the Maison de Bierre, Elsicar

The Chronicle Book Shop, Barnsley

It's been one of those poety weeks, head in the clouds, floating lonely, doing my own thing while David was away visiting our daughter in posh Penge. Actually, I've enjoyed the solitude. There has been lots of cello practice, lots of reading, and lots of writing. And in between all of that I tripped into Barnsley with Higgs Bottom (my new novel) to introduce it to the Chronicle Book Shop. Following that visit I am pleased to announce that now in stock at the Chronicle Book Shop in Barnsley, is Higgs Bottom - tadah! 

I was so pleased with my little promotion trip that I went into the Cooper Gallery for a cup of tea in their lovely cafe. I was in good company, lots of elevenses ladies, coffee and cake, the sensible shoe section of society who prefer a little slower pace. So much so that the sign on the wall that says, 'Wake up and smell the coffee,' seemed a particularly pertinent instruction. The counter, festooned with homemade cakes was very inviting, but I resisted, even though the chocolate brownies were very tempting.

Back home I just had time to go through with the vacuum before the boiler men came. The old boiler had packed in and within hours a new one was being fitted. Something else to celebrate. The guys did a splendid job and it was all done and dusted by midday. Plumbers are wonderful people, aren't they?

It's a plumber's technique!

 So there was a bit of a mess before it was all put together again. But who cares, I'm all ready for the cold weather now, not that I'm in a hurry to bring it on.












I didn't talk to another soul until Friday, but like I say, I made good use of the solitude. I wrote a poem for a lady whom we met a few weeks ago at the Dearne Valley Farm pub when we were celebrating our wedding anniversary, Clare. She asked me to write a poem about her, so here it is, just for you, Clare:

Clare with red hair

We met at the Dearne Valley Farm

one sunny afternoon,

when blue skies

and temperatures,

unusual for June,

invited us to take the air,

cross the park,

stretch our limbs,

run like teenagers in love,

laugh at the silly things.

We made for the pub

crossed the field,

a short cut through the gate,

where we lingered

to kiss, lovers' lips,

like on our first date.

It was cool inside,

there were fans,

we chose a window seat,

the carvery looked great,

we decided to stay and eat

You were sitting at the next table

you smiled as we sat down

I, content with my lovely man,

and looking all around,

didn’t realize the sadness

behind your public mask,

but while our men

got the beer in,

you leaned across and asked,

‘Is it a special occasion?

you seem so much in love’

And I could tell

from your voice

life for you

was not so good.

‘I lost my man

he died, you said,

one minute there

then gone,

three young children without a dad,’

it's hard to carry on.

My life’s in a thousand pieces,

I know that time will heal,

But right at this very moment

I’m lost, that’s how I feel.’

It was a brief exchange

between women,

what could I say?

I uttered my condolences,

there will be better days.

You made me see how life can go,

how fickle fate can be,

And when you left

you winked, and said,

I’m Clare,

write about me.

David is back now, we had lunch at the Cock today (Sunday) and it was scrumptious as usual. How fortunate David and I are to have each other. 

I have been writing a Press Release for Higgs Bottom this afternoon. I have lots to do this week, not least prepare my manuscript for A Poet in Barnsley - coming to Amazon very soon. And on that subject I have been asked to read at a couple of venues, more news of that next week.

Our daughter is to visit on Friday for a girly night out with her mum, her sister-in-law and her niece. Bring on the music!

I hope you have had a good week dear reader. I'll update you on my exploits next week, so until then, don't get too bogged down in the Brexit politics, keep smiling and enjoy the September sunshine.

Love and hugs,
Jane x

Spoken Word in Hoyland

Happy Monday everyone! Well, it's a bit grey and drizzly in Birdwell this morning, not a good drying day, as they say, but yesterday was lovely and it wasn't only the weather. I had a leisurely morning with Valentino (my cello) and then I donned my glad rags and tripped off on the 66 bus to Hoyland for an afternoon of spoken word and music. 

What a laugh! Lee Pollard, a natural Barnsley comedian with his unique spoken word delivery, was a perfect antidote to all the Brexit bafflement that's going on. I especially liked his Exploding Pies and the scenario of home life when the money collector comes round and all the family lay low. Even though we were warned of swearwords the odd 'f' word was contextual and perfectly natural. I am glad he kept away from the 'c' word because I'm still not at all easy with that one. Then again, that's just me. The audience were divided, some preferring to chatter away over their pint instead of listening. But those of us closer up enjoyed every word. 

And in between the words came the music of Matt Bilby, a swarthy singer guitarist with all the right gear, mixer deck, mike, electric wires, pedals and of course a very robust voice. His sound was very 90s, add that to a full pub and the cacophony of happy people, and no wonder people in the street had to stop to see what was going on.

I was lucky to get a good comfy seat on one of the leather sofa's in the bar, and I was in good company. It was great to meet Sue and Brian, Lisa and Andrew, who I hope to bump into again sometime, maybe at a future reading.

Just in the nick of time I caught a number 2 bus back and was home for 7 pm. Let's have more spoken word and music afternoons. I might even take to the floor myself before too long. Watch this space. 

Of course I gave Higgs Bottom a bit of an airing; got to get the word out there.

Higgs Bottom gets about

Higgs Bottom on the train

I am definitely on the promotion trail, well it is coming up to Christmas and what better present could you wish to give than an entertaining book. Whether it is for a twelve year old, his parents or his/her grandparents, Higgs Bottom is a read for everyone.

Right! I'm off to do my cello practice and then it will be lunchtime. Where does the time go?

Love you lots dear reader, thanks for your support by peaking at my blog from time to time.

Talk again soon,
Love Jane x