Yorkshire Writers' Lunch

  I listened to Poetry Please on Radio 4 on Sunday. One poem that struck a chord was One Art by Elizabeth Bishop, about losing or forgetting things. This has become a known aspect of the Covid lockdown – people really are finding their memory is getting worse. We have lost the routines, the conversations, the interactions that force our brains to focus, concentrate on what is happening, who we are talking to and why. We slop around the house – many people have said they no longer bother to wash their hair as much or put fresh clothes on every day or wear make-up. It’s not worth it, we don’t have customers to worry about when we send emails out. Zoom meetings can be ‘any time, any place, anywhere’ (for those of you are old enough to remember the Martini ad!) Of course, we forget things from the past, too. We remember things we want to remember and filter out other things, such as that train fare we ‘forgot’ to pay or that time we tripped over our own feet and felt a comp...

At market there was a sign: ‘HAND WARMER’. I have bad circulation this time of year, so I followed the glowing arrows.   They stopped at this stall with a bloke behind. He looked creepy in his corduroy cardigan. ‘Hello,’ he said, ‘come for a hand-warming?’   I couldn’t see any packets or boxes so I asked, ‘How though?’ He held out his own hands. I pulled back. ‘What?’ he asked. ‘That’s not decent.’ ‘Tis hand-warming though.’ He got me there. ‘I prefer packets.’ ‘Packets?’ He scoffed. ‘Bah! I can guarantee true heat!’ True heat? That sounded even less decent. ‘Come on,’ he said, eyebrows waggling. ‘Tis electric.’ ‘Electric how?’ He paused. ‘I have a pacemaker.’ I finally had enough and left. ‘Please,’ he called after me. ‘I’m your fellow man.’ But I kept on walking. A handshake’s all well and good but not one long enough to keep off cold.

Hi to all you listeners out there and welcome to The Match. Sorry to disappoint any of you who’ve tuned in expecting me to talk about football. But as all you lovely regulars know, we’re here to find out how you met your other half, how you got together. And today we’ve got a special couple. I’ll start by introducing John North. Hi John, how are you? I’m very well thanks, Jimmy. So, tell me a bit about where you live. Well, it’s extremely cold here. But it’s slowly getting warmer. Meeting people is difficult. There’s just not many of us around. And with the cold, you know, if you do manage to find someone there’s all the business of big coats, over-trousers and gloves to deal with. But despite all that, I hear you’ve managed to find a partner. I’ve been very lucky. How did you meet? On the International Dating Line which I’ve never used before. It’s always seemed so far distant from my world. But hey…it’s come up trumps! Well, this is where I should introduce Jane…Jan...

Christmas Christmas time should be such a pleasure, With precious memories for us to treasure. So why do we always shop, shop, shop, Spend, spend, spend, till we’re fit to drop. And as it draws near, that day in December, The true meaning of Christmas we must remember. Loved ones who have left us, but not forever, Still in our thoughts as we gather together. Think of others sitting alone, Those on the street without a home. Spare a thought for their pitiful plight, As we eat and drink into the night. It’s not about money, but giving and sharing, Christmas time is for loving and caring. So as we rejoice in endless chatter, Remember the things that really matter. A Special Christmas Frosty fingers on my window pane Children sledging down an icy lane A lonesome robin hopping by Snowflakes fluttering from a darkening sky A solitary snowman stands alone As carol singers wend their way home to hot mince pies and festive sherry Over indulge - it’s a...