Searching for My Yorkshire Roots 2017 & 2018

There was very little in the way of signage to the Old Town so I followed a cobbled street to St Machar’s cathedral which had some 14^th century effigies and a very helpful docent who was eager to show off his American vocabulary: pavement versus sidewalk and holiday v. vacation. He’s never visited the U.S buy would like to sail there since he doesn’t like to fly. He pointed me in the direction of a couple of cafes in Old Town and I found myself in the midst of Aberdeen university which has its campus scattered amongst old farm buildings to a wonderful avant guarde library. The menu in the café that the docent had recommended if I wanted o be around students was a bit new agey for me so I settled for scone and tea.

Brough, iron age, Viking, fulmar chick. Skua. Bathroom with visitors’ centre. Italian chapel. Orkney made up of 67 islads. Population of Kirkwall is 7000. It’s only a one hour flight from Bergen to Shetland. Water buffalo and mozarella cheese pizza. Italian prisoners of war built road.

I was scheduled to meet my new tour guide James Tait, and I had only a couple of minutes to wait for him stepping onto Shetland soil for the first time. We drove a short distance to the centre of town and we parked and he showed me round the harbor area. It was 8:30 a.m. cold, windy and raining. First port of call, so to speak, is the house used as the detectives home on the TV series, which was the impetus for me taking this journey to Shetland. I didn’t really enjoy the plot and I often find the dialect difficult but I loved the landscape and the weather! There was an expensive yacht from Malta docked. James said he’d try and find out to whom it belonged – maybe a movie star! There was also an enormous yacht on a training run from Norway. We met up in the tourist bureau with the others destined to go on our trip with James, two Australians and 2 Americans and off we went. The American couple were on their honeymoon. He was a literature professor. James was an excellent guide, and was personable as well as knowledgeable and quite willing, unlike Clive, to go off-script. I kept pinching myself. OMG you’re all on your own doing this traveling . . . and having a blast! Last night I’d just turned the light off to go to sleep when Sarah FaceTimed me from Los Gatos where she’d been teaching my student Nikhil. I decided to tell her that I might consider selling up in the U.S and coming to live in the U.K. I feel as if I’m stagnating in the U.S Well, I’ve come out and said it publically now to my family. I’d mentioned the financial component of this possibility on the train to Scotland to Ken and now I’d said it out loud to my children. Sarah had bumped in to my adult student Peggy at LGSM and Peggy had told Sarah ‘It’s only a matter of time.’ And this morning I received an email from another adult student Jane Lear who has been avidly reading my blog.” . . . if you come back,” she had written. I don’t even want to leave Shetland. But then again, I didn’t want to leave Hebden Bridge to come to Shetland. What does this show? That I’m a creature of habit?

James is a 6^th generation Shetlands, unlike Clive who is from Southern England, surrey. The Americans and I chatted about Clive and is pedantic manner of speech came up immediately. They’re taking the ferry back to Aberdeen tonight.

Headland. Golf course. Baby buggy. Town hall in wraps. Police station, library, church, James’s school. Are there any ghosts? Henry James. Quint. Watching too many detective series. Hinterland, for instance is about a tragedy in a Welsh boarding school. James had boarded there for his last 2 years before leaving the islands for Dundee University and a degree in accountancy.

Wed

It’s now Wednesday at 9:15 and I haven’t committed pen to paper for several days. What’s going on?

A day of travel. I spent 2 hours in a coffee bar in Union Square in Aberdeen this morning. I had to wait an hour and a half in Preston for the train back to Hebden Bridge. It was pouring down and there serous risk of flooding. I eventually arrived home at 7:45 completely wiped out. I watched Diana In Her Own Words, the new controversial expose and I was tucked up in bed by 9:30.

I had an email from Keith who has decided not to come up to Yorkshire next weekend. I’m disappointed. I went to view #3 Croft House with Leah. It’s right across from the park, above the restaurant/bar. The apartment is on the third floor and the stairs are very narrow and steep. It’s very centrally located, but dark inside. It comes furnished at 750 per month. (Little did I know that this building, Croft House, would come to feature so greatly in my life when I began to research my family history in Hebden Bridge in the Autumn/Winter of 2017/18. On the spur of the moment I called in at the Health Centre to check on my weight loss. I waited for an hour. Then they couldn’t weigh me. I could, however, go back at 5:30 that day. I seriously contemplated changing my flight and going back to the U.S tomorrow so that I could be with friends and family. Whatever I had it was obviously terminal and progressing rapidly. . With that thought in mind I made Chinese prawns for lunch and FaceTimed with Keith. His home in Santa Fe had been broken into and everything had been taken out and sold – including all his photographs, and his mum’s China – everything. The Ben had taken his own life and a couple of days later Keith had ruptured his spleen while he was in Santa Fe visiting. Recovering for the surgery he had to deal with two blood clots. This sort of put my health issue into some sort of perspective, though I didn’t acknowledge it at the time. It had taken Keith 4 years of going backward and forward to England from Santa Fe to make sure his plan to moved permanently to England wasn’t just a pipe dream. We talked about how we see old people out doing stuff, the sense of community. I went back to the doctor’s office. Nicola’s scales had been wrong, or, I didn’t know how to use them properly since they high tech digital. 9 st 12lb. After I’d seen the doctor the receptionist took me aside. “I’m afraid we’ll have to charge you for your visit today because you are not registered. I’m sorry.’ Use to American prices for Healthcare I braced myself and said wit trembling lips, ‘How much?’ “£25” was the reply. She didn’t understand why I burst out laughing. OK. That was probably the best £25 I’ve ever spent. The evening’s entertainment was at the hebden bridge Picture House, directly across the street from Croft House, it was about the LGBT community in England’s history. An excellent £6’s worth. You could even take a glass of wine in with you. A lovely evening out, followed by watching the world Athletics championship from London.

Since I was now Gary’s official Wednesday girl Wednesday meant hiking and today I chose our destination – Haworth. Well, not so much Haworth itself but I wanted to walk from the Bronte Parsonage, over Penistone Hill all the way back to my apartment. The weather during the course of the day was very varied. Gary had his yak wool sweater with fleece lining – very heavy. Heavy too, were the grey clouds that followed us all day long, until we got to Hebden Bridge where it was warm and sunny. Traveling along Haworth Old Road we passed several isolated buildings that had once been farms but now house ‘Range Rover people with immaculate lawns, which, I think, look pretty ridiculous in this landscape, I I was later find the one of my ancestors had lived in one of these buildings hen it had, indeed, been a farm sum weavers’ cottage, as they all were. We had a picnic lunch at Grainsworth and stopped at the Robin Hood pub in Pecket Well for a drink. We came through Old Town and tried a pub tat we hadn’t been in before, The Crown in Hebden. The piped music was good for a pub – Pink Floyd. The interior is done out as a Caribbean island, complete with umbrellas. The pub even offers African drumming lessons. When I checked my phone we’d walked 11.5 miles and climbed 56 floors.

Thursday

Thursday seems to have become my Todmorden day since it’s second hand day at the market. I caught myself taking picture of old people. People in wheelchairs, people on crutches, in motorized buggies doing their shopping, and I wondered where all these people are in the America. You just don’t see them out doing their grocery shopping, or anything else for that matter.

My laptop was refusing to charge, so the nearest Mac store was in Leeds, so to Leeds I went. What was the hurry? I need to tell my students that I’m going to move to England. There it is! I’ve come out and said it out loud. Well, actually wrote it in silence but you get my drift. I’d been warned by Nicola that the Mac store could be very busy and so I’d tried to book an appointment at the genius bar but each time a connected with the store on the phone the train went into a tunnel and I lost my connection, and gave up. Nicola’s friend Mike, chair of Happy Valley Pride, had taken a look at my laptop and suggested it might ne the transformers. When I eventually got served about an hour of standing in a very hectic store which seemed like another world to the one I live in. my genius confirmed that yes, it was the transformer – and they were out of stock of that particular component. It would take 2 to 5 days for a shipment to arrive. I suggested they call the Manchester store and sure enough they had the parts there.

Back home I had tea on my private patio upstairs. I FaceTimed Sarah and for the first time I voiced ‘I’m going to move to England.” She showed no surprise. She’d already been searching for another teaching venue in case I gave up the house.

Happy Valley Prides’ evening’s entertainment in Machpelah was all about mums. How apropos. Transvestite performer Leslie Davidoff explored the relationship we have with our own mother, through laughter to sadness, and all those places in between. I even asked a question at the end: How much had her relationship with her own mother had cause her to pursue a career as a psychotherapist. This is particularly relevant to me because Anna is a psychotherapist, and also my leaving England is bound to have major repercussions on my daughters. Her routine was a combination of stories and songs and was very engaging. As I was leaving some called “Heather” and I turned to see Ada. “You coming down to Nelson’s wine bar?’ So I went along and joined the after party party at the only gay bar in town. Peter, Adam’s partner joined us later and we closed the place at midnight.
Friday

Well, I can’t write my “goodbye” letter to all my students on my iPhone so I must be off to Manchester to find the Mac store in the Arndale centre. Amazingly the replacement part was free because the laptop is still under warranty. Next stop was Manchester cathedral to have a few moments of quiet time with my ancestors to tell them I’m moving back ‘home.’ There’s major renovation going on inside and out and the tower is under wraps. There’s a brand new organ, bright and shiny. A photography competition was taking place, including a photo of the beehives on top of the tower. Apparently some bees had made their home in a place that is now going to be part of the new train line under construction from Manchester Piccadilly to Manchester Victoria so the bees were caught and transferred onto the top of Manchester Cathedral tower where an beekeeper looks after them. Bees are the symbol of Manchester reflecting the ‘busy as a bee’ mentality of the Industrial revolution. The city is also currently displaying a series of decorated benches to encourage reading.

I had lunch outside the half-timbered oyster bar, and as I tucked into my chili I asked a couple of guys on the next table if they would take my photo. I didn’t recognize what language they were speaking but they turned out to be Polish.

After a short rest at home, relaxing now tat my laptop is fixed, I took a short stroll into Mytholmroyd where a blue heron played games with me. It would fly a few yards ahead and land on the canal towpath, and then just before I reached it it would move on again, but looking behind to make sure I was following.

The evening was spent at a drag makeup workshop. The artist, Grace Oni-Smith, had come 6^th in the Ru Paul competition. It was great fun and the venue was packed to the seams. I didn’t stay to see the final product, however, because I had a ticket for the Cabaret show Bourgeois and Maurice. I arrived half an hour late and to my embarrassment I was shown to a VIP sea, second row from the front, with my name on it! I was sitting next to Adam and Darren and I think they’d wangled me this great seat.

An early start this morning. I met Gary a 9 a.m. at Saville Park for a day at the Halifax agricultural show, but first of all we had a look at Gledhill building in Gledhill yard, but I don’t know if there’s any connection with my Gledhill ancestors.

Even though we spent the whole day at the show we didn’t get to see everything. I became quite emotional when I saw the ‘Three duck eggs, any colour” section. My mum won several prizes in this category and I still have her prize-winning certificates. It was all so quintessentially English. The judges were sporting white coat and flat caps made of the best Harris tweed. The kids were very involved, often showing their own animals. It was a great photo opportunity day. The stunt motor cyclists roared on the high ramps jumping off and doing cartwheels and somersaults in midair on their bikes.

Back in Hebden Bridge Nicola was just putting on the signs for the civil rights talk by Jeremy Pemberton and Flo Krause. Jeremy was the first serving priest to marry his same sex partner. Flo is a leading practitioner for prison law reform, helping prisoners gain the right to vote, to have prisoners’ wives able to have artificial insemination, and the right for gay men in prison to be allowed gay porn magazines thereby giving them and equal status with straight prisoners. On the way back to the mill I stopped to watched the street art statues in the square and back at th’ mill Nicola was making some last minute adjustment to her costume. Her nipple tassles kept coming unstuck!

Monday

I woke to a day with no plans. But within the hour I’d made an appointment ot view apartment 8 in Cheetham House – in 15 minutes time. I knew the tiny openings with the tall wrought iron gats bearing Cheetham House sign. I’d found it in my search for places that the Wrigley family had built, but I hadn’t tried the gate. It looked rather dark and spooky. But here was Dominic to greet me looking very cute in what I can only describe as an estate agent’s suit, but at least he had the body to pull it off – not literally you understand.

The main room, a sort of kitchen ling room, wasn’t very light but it comes with wheels, pullies and winches in the ceiling – perfect for Colin’s recurrent nightmares of pipes in the ceiling. What is supposed to be bedroom one would make a nice living room. Bedroom two is tiny but adequate. There are no cupboards or closets of any description apart from a couple in the kitchen. The whole apartment is due to be repainted and new lights put in tomorrow. When I found that it also had a real bath rather than just a shower I said within 3 minutes of entering the apartment,”Shit! I’ll have it.” I think Dominic thought I was joking. The windows are all to the front and overlook the Public Convenience – not 24 hours, but beyond that is the park with its glorious displays of flowers, all currently in bloom. . We left via the lift, to make sure that it works. The previous occupant was an elderly man who was wheelchair bound, s the lift had to work all the time. There are 8 apartments in the building and no children allowed. I went back with Dominic to his office to get some paperwork for me to fill in and could return later in the day. Dominic promised not to show anyone the flat. Apparently there were three other people umming and ahing.

I left his office in a state of high excitement. I took a couple of videos to show the girls how ‘downtown’ the locations. The Crown Inn, Boots, the library, a charity store, bus stop, bank, pie shop and fish and chip shop are all less than 20 seconds from my door. There’s an intercom system. I’ve never ever lived in an apartment before. I just couldn’t contain myself and ended up walking around and around St George’s
Square for 15 minutes thinking I need to tell someone, anyone. Eventually I popped into Sauce, the coffee shop on the square and immediately saw ken and his wife and daughter. I’ve never seen them anywhere else apart from in church 9Sowerby Bridge church coffee mornings). I sat down with them and promptly burst into tears with excitement. Ken went and bought me a coffee, and within 5 minutes who should I see passing the window but Duncan, David’s partner who I’d met and chatted with at several Pride events. I coupe of minutes later a familiar figure with two dogs in tow passed by. I ran out of the shop. “David” I called. It was David from Lily Hall. My words tumbled out, probably somewhat incoherently. “Do you need me to take you for a gin and tonic?’ inquire David as he successfully caged Lily and Fin into the back of the car. I thanked him but declined and returned to Sauce. It had been good to share this momentous decision with other people.
Wednesday

Stainland, Barkisland, griffin, Norland, Sowerby bridge, Hog’s Head, Holy Well. Later in the evening I talked to Colin by phone and told him of my decision. He’s going to take me to court to stop paying my alimony. So in the middle of one of the biggest decisions of my life, to quit my business, leave my children, set up home in a completely new place he wants to take me to court to stop the alimony payments. That’s crazy. Needless to say I did not sleep well that night.

I talked with Rachel, Anna and Sarah each in turn for an hour. Anna cried. I don’t think she could believe it. Does she think I’m callous? I don’t even know how to begin to describe my love for my children. On the other issue I am so, so glad that the alimony didn’t not have any bearing on my decision to move to England. It wasn’t until I told Colin that I was going to moved to England that he said and I’m taking you to court in order to stop paying alimony. When I asked him his reason he told me he thought it was time that I moved on. In retrospect this is one of the most hilarious comments I’ve ever heard. I’ll be forever grateful that he had nothing to do with my decision.

Thursday

As I left the building pondering these options big black clouds had gathered overhead and the first drops of rain fell as I walked down the incredibly step hill. Soon there was torrential rain – a cloudburst. I ran for shelter at the outdoor market which was just packing up for the day. Never one to let an opportunity go to waste I thought of my childhood when my mum and I would go round the market stalls just as they were packing up, and pick up all the produce that had fallen from the stalls during the course of the day. I asked for a bunch of bananas. £1.OK. 4 apples please. £1. He gave me 6 for £1. After quipping with other customers all squished under the stall awnings to keep dry I made a mad dash across to Innovation Mill café, with a plastic bag over my head. . a pot of Darjeeling tea soon revived me and by the time I’d finished it was bright sunshine that accompanied my walk home.