He said that the best time was when the
Wheat was just inches high in the fields.
Flat, rolled out land, naked to the sky.
Not for him was the joy of the windswept wheat,
The time when summer was dipping down for another year.
He liked the eager anticipation of what was to come.
The joy for me was the bend of Martin Dales,
For that was when I knew we had arrived.
Arrived for weeks and weeks,
Well, I finished my last ever uni class this week.
It was awfully strange and not how I imagined it. Having done seven years part-time I always assumed that the last class would be a certain beer gathering with hangovers all round, but it didn't happen like that at all.
Instead, what should have been a celebratory week really just fizzled into nothing. I had to ditch the last session because of work commitments (that turned out to be not as important as perceived)
There could be some big trouble this week in Sheffield as Nick Clegg comes "home" to face the music with his party conference.
I'm not going to get into the level of disgrace this chap and his party are (they have helped to destroy any prospect of people from low/middle incomes attending university despite naively promising to scrap tuition fees!! and so much more), but there
I'm just going to keep this really short because I am genuinely very upset about this:
I am devastated that this has been forced to close. Pollards is (was?) a coffee shop the type of which I fear we will not see in Sheffield again. It is rather symbolic in its own right, I suppose, that shops like this are closing throughout the country in place of the soulless Starbucks and