Today, I completed a long journey which began in a small village in a coalfield. This coalfield wasn't in West Virginia or Ohio or Kentucky, however, it was in the dying coalfield of the East Midlands in England. I had a typical lower-working class childhood of the period, with a father invalided out of the mines at 56, and a mother going slowly blind through glaucoma and bad medical care. Certainly, times must have been hard but I barely noticed - for the house was filled with love!
(more below the orange Piscean calligraphy)