Good morning Guardians, sorry I wasn't here yesterday, a rather stressful meeting took up much of my day. During it, my phone rang a couple of times, and I was surprised that it was my best mate's eldest lad, who I don't recall ever having rung me on his own phone before (though he's texted me a few times). After missing two of these calls, I thought it might be an emergency, so I excused myself, and went out of the meeting to ring him. It turned out that he was ringing to see if I was in the city centre, and if I wanted to 'hang out'! I was flattered, but also found it a little strange, as even though he is now in his early teens, I still think of him as a child. After my meeting, I gave him another call, and as he was still mooching around town, we met up, and I took him for coffee and cake, and talked about films and stuff. It was nice, but I still found it a bit funny. We have always spent a good deal of time together, but usually when I am with his dad, or when I am looking after him and his siblings. I rang his dad, and he said that his son really enjoys talking to me! He's always been a bright lad, and obviously he's growing up. Time flies, but maybe I'll have someone to take me to the pub in a few years (though, knowing how things work, as a father myself, I kind of doubt it)!
I hope everyone had a good weekend, and that your week gets off to a good start. I thought I'd start mine with my Big Bex. The miniature mining lamp bears the fleur-de-lys crest of a small old pit-village called
Fitzwilliam, where I used to have a lot of friends. The village was dominated by the mine, but almost all evidence of it is gone now, along with the old miners cottages, and their 'club'. There is still a lot of mining memorabilia here in Yorkshire, but it is increasingly expensive, and the full-scale
Davy lamps, which, long after they were used underground, were given as retirement gifts, and what have you, are very expensive. The genuine ones were highly prized, and often adorned mantle-pieces in the old cottages, handed down by grandfathers and great-grandfathers, who mostly died long before their time

It's sad to see those old villages gone, along with a whole culture and way of life, but I'm glad no more boys have go down, deep into a ground, to earn a living anymore
Have a good week Guardians