WHETHER or not you agree with the proposed changes to the welfare system, you have to admire the balls (excuse the pun) of Penistone and Stocksbridge MP Marie Tidball who made an impassioned speech in the House of Commons where she refused to toe the party line.
It takes a tremendous amount of courage to stand up for what you believe is right when you are a career politician, and when you are in opposition of the leader but this issue clearly meant enough for her to do that.
A very emotional and brave move. I hope she isn’t penalised for her guts.
I have always maintained that I wouldn’t have the career I have if I hadn’t come from Barnsley.
The support I have been given is second to none and I never fail to be touched by it. I see it at signings in the Book Vault and I see it even more when I am signing at Mike’s Famous Book Stall in the market.
There is a warmth about the market which I love, a friendly buzz. It is a ‘gig’ I love to do. It always puts the biggest smile on my face, as it did last Saturday.
Old friends come and call in to say hello, customers bring their old books, often which show they’ve been read quite a few times, to be signed and some are delighted to be buying their holiday reads because they’ve off to the sun next week.
But the highlight is the catering… because a white americano wings its way up the escalator for me from the coffee shop at the bottom and I catch it at the top.
I love that little ritual – and it’s banging coffee as well, though it does take 45 minutes to cool down enough to drink.
Other more famous coffee shops of inferior taste take note – if you want a ‘hot’ hot chocolate in them, you have to order them extra hot. EH?
But, thank you Barnsley market for making me feel so welcome yet again – both customers and traders.
The old market was up when I did my very first signing two decades ago (using the kids as slave labour to bag up the books) but it’s still a joy to go back to where it all began for me.
Barnsley does look really bonny in the middle on a summer’s evening. I can barely remember it as it was.
Thoughts echoed by my old school pal who came up last week and we went into one of the restaurant/bars there to test it out and for a long overdue catch up over some snap.
Sadly our experience was marred by the too loud live music act, which would have been spot on if they’d been AC/DC but it was more drunken uncle and auntie at the karaoke and would have benefitted muchly from a power cut.
‘Are we getting old?’ said my pal as high annoyance set in.
I don’t know but we did feel a sense of relief when we learned we weren’t the only complainers… and the others were younger. Anyway, we won’t be going back because it took too long for my ears to stop bleeding from the assault. When you’re paying top notch to be a diner, one would expect a little more consideration because the ridiculous volume was counter-productive to any possible enjoyment. Or is that what an old person would say?
