PEDAL POWER IN THE PEACE GARDENS

treet-level speed, cobbles, and crowd noise — the Sheffield Grand Prix is easily one of the big dates on my South Yorkshire calendar. No, this isn't a car race; it’s all about the bikes. Whilst the mighty Tour de France thunders its way towards Paris, a very different kind of cycling race rolls into town.

WHEELY HOT TICKET

or weeks now, we’ve been basking in record-breaking temperatures—well, probably. While everyone else is out enjoying the endless summer, I’ve been busy trying to find ways of just coping. It’s great when I'm off the clock, but wearing a thick, heavy uniform in a building with a distinct lack of decent cooling turns a shift into a sticky, sweaty test of endurance.

THIRTY YEARS OF HARLEY

years ago, my life changed forever. I became a father for the first time. I wasn't prepared for the sheer scale of how it would change me, but looking back, I feel incredibly fulfilled and a better man for the experience.

GIVING THE RODS: A HISTORY OF TRUE DEFIANCE

ery long ago, the preferred offensive hand gesture in Britain was the classic V-sign, otherwise known as 'the rods'. It carried so much more oomph than the American-influenced single digit that dominates today.

LIVING THE DREAM (APPARENTLY)

esterday was our 27th wedding anniversary. So, did we spend the day guzzling champagne and scoffing down some posh nosh? Of course not.

HOT, LONG AND STICKY

atch up time. I’ve left things a bit long since my last two posts, mostly because they were quite substantial pieces. Now that I'm back at the keyboard, I suppose there’s not much choice but to talk about the weather.

THE BLOODLINE AND THE SUN

onouring two very different things is what today is all about. On one hand, we honour the role of fathers in our families; on the other, some of us will be honouring the Sun.

OUR SECOND HOME: FINDING HIRAETH

ew Quay in West Wales is our special place, and for the last 10 days we've been enjoying everything it has to offer. In my previous post, I highlighted the first part of our trip. In this post, I'm going to share the final part of our most recent visit.

CYMRU, CEI NEWYDD AND CROSSOVERS

ei Newydd is a constant in my life. A place that gives us so much pleasure. Some people are well-travelled and that’s great; I’m not, and that’s fine too. The time had come to return to this place which means so much to me.

THE MISTRESS IN THE WEST

ear Yorkshire, I have a confession to make.

I’ve been seeing Wales behind your back.

THE GODDESS OF PARK HILL

niversally most pantheons have a Mother Earth, it is something that continues into general beliefs and as a concept transcends religion. 

SUN BAKED AND SWEATY

​eather is a constant conversational subject if you live in the United Kingdom. Too hot, too cold, too wet, too dry—there’s always something to talk about when there’s nothing else to say. But this May is different, yet becoming all too regular.

CELEBRATING ATREUS

treus is my beloved grandson, and the boy has changed my life in ways I could never have imagined. He has only been around for two years, but already I can’t picture life without him. This weekend marked his second birthday, and we celebrated the occasion with a simple gathering in our garden.

THE EXCRUCIATING WAITING GAME

ne of life’s scariest moments can be heading into a spider-filled basement, climbing a shaky ladder, or trusting a fart after a curry. But I’ll raise you: waiting for your car to get through its annual MOT is a tension like no other.

CRUNCH TIME

t's time to come clean. To admit to everyone and myself that I have a problem. Addiction is something that creeps up on you. It starts with a taste, then a bit of recreational consumption and before long its a habit. I have to admit that it's become a problem. My consumption has become an issue and is threatening everything. 

BREAKING THE SILENCE: THE TECTONIC SHIFT

marked the spot. Last week, the UK went to the polls. While I usually keep this blog a politics-free zone—mostly because things get messy and divisive the moment you frame them that way—it feels impossible to stay silent after the events of the last few days. We are living through troubling times, and I’m not sure there is an end in sight.

CURTAIN UP ON ANOTHER YEAR

irthdays are usually a personal affair—a time for others to celebrate you. Things are a bit different in our house, however, with Morticia’s birthday falling the day after mine. The beginning of May is entirely about "us": first me, then her. This year, there are no milestone birthdays to celebrate, and the plans are staying quite low-key.

STEEL BONES AND STERILE AISLES

eadowhall: a glass and steel monolith built over the bones of the old Hadfields Ltd steelworks in the Don Valley. I found myself there this week with Morticia, on a mission to find birthday cards for one another. Having just finished a shift at work, my enthusiasm was non-existent—though, in fairness, I never have much time for the place.

PENSIONERS, POLISHED PLATES, AND PROPER CHATS

henever my shift pattern gifts me a Saturday off, I tend to head over to see my parents. They only live ten minutes away, making it easy to catch up, though I usually have to wait for the "all-clear" text before dropping by. Like stereotypical pensioners, they insist on doing their weekly shop on Saturday mornings—stubbornly ignoring the quiet aisles of the working week to brave the crowds when the rest of the world is off.

PAVEMENTS, PYJAMAS, AND PERMANENT ADDRESSES

enerally, I shy away from commenting on what people choose to wear. Personal expression is something I hold sacred; I’m a firm believer that you should be yourself and feel free to express your identity however you see fit. However, there is one boundary I simply cannot ignore.