Tag: sheffield

Pocket knife maker

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Nice piece this on the revival of the little mesters in Sheffield.
What are a “little mester”, I hear you ask? Here you go:

A little mester is a self-employed worker who rents space in a factory or works from their own workshop. They were involved in making cutlery or other smallish items such as edge tools (i.e. woodworking chisels). The term is used almost exclusively to describe the craftsmen of the Sheffield area, and is mostly archaic as this manner of manufacture peaked in the 19th century and has now virtually died out.

Except, as you’ll see from the first line, they are reviving, rising phoenix-like from the ashes as part of the craft/artisan revolution that seems to be taking over the whole planet. And the Guardian has got some great pics of Michael May – a cutler working in the little mester tradition in Sheffield:

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If you’re ever in the Sheffield area, you can see more industrial heritage – including several little mesters workshops – at the amazing Kelham Island museum.

Sheffield Paragraph

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This, via Whatsapp late last night.
Usually when Mrs 6000’s married female friends message me late in the evening, I can’t share the contents.

This one is different:

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Struggling with the teeny text? Allow me to assist.

“He is very obviously common. His speech is uneducated, he has an accent, he is probably from some ghastly place like Sheffield, and he carries himself in an ungentlemanly fashion, and he’s probably something perfectly frightful like a Primitive Methodist. I will not have such people coming to this house and bringing down the tone of it, and I will not have you associating with them. We – you – have a certain reputation to conserve, a certain position in the world.”

Nice. Thanks for that, Louis de Bernières.

I’m not one to get into silly rows over heritage and stuff, but Wikipedia tells me that you were born in 1950s South East London and that’s hardly a shining example of loveliness, now is it? Additionally, I have no huge problem with you slating my perceived lack of education, my timbre or my general appearance based solely upon the city of my birth, but I draw the line very firmly some distance in advance of your “Primitive Methodist” slur.

That, sir, was below the belt.

I fear that this may only be the tip of the iceberg when it comes to unfounded defamation and character assassination of us fine, upstanding individuals from the Steel City, so if you have any other examples, please feel free to email me so that I can perhaps construct some sort of compendium of examples of this sort of libellous, pseudoxenophobic prejudice.

“Thanks” Carol

Memory Monday

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Well, there’s Flashback Friday [is there? – Ed.] and Throwback Thursday, so why not Memory Monday?

Easy way to slip a quota photo in while I’m out hunting swimming with dolphins in the Indian Ocean. And since I’m writing this on Father’s Day (dolphins having comprehensively failed to invent wifi yet), here’s one of of my dad.

A belated Happy Father’s Day to all the dads out there.
And for more up to date photos, maybe check out my Instagram…

Are we there yet?

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You know, I rather fancy that we are.

It’s taken a while, but it does seem that the photos from my Bergen/Sheffield trip are up on Flickr. There are a few from the actual concert (mainly taken by Mrs 6000’s S6 because I was was otherwise engrossed), a few more from the trip along the fjords, and one or two additional images of beautiful Bergen.

And then a few of Sheffield as well, perhaps without the drama of Norway, but where spring was springing and there were still decent shots to be had.

This one is one of those best viewed bigger and on black.

There are individual sets for each bit of the trip, but you can have a general look see on the May 2016 trip collection page on Flickr and go from there.

Goodbye Again

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Time to head home. Seeing family and friends in Sheffield has been wonderful, but there is a wife, some kids and a damn beagle to tend to back in Cape Town.

It’s been an odd time. It seems to have flown by, packed with concerts, tourist stuff, appointments, tasks and pretty much no beagles. And yet it seems like an age since I left South Africa.

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There was time to grab one last quick pic of a Sheffield institution in our way to the station.
Next time I’m over (whenever that may be) the old Hendos factory will have been sympathetically converted into a student pub, complete with Hendo’s inspired drinks.

I’ll obviously have to give it a go. Obviously.