I am Northern.
I am a Council-House, Yorkshire-Lass, Grandaughter-of-a-Miner made (quite) good.
Really I should be walking my whippet right now, while foisting a ferret down a hole as the pigeons coo behind me and I eat my 'tea' of fried mars bar while saying things like "tha's summat nice ba tat". Obviously I am impoverished, uncouth, dishevelled, parsimonious and intellectually retarded.
At least that's the regional-ist rubbish regularly chucked at Notherners -- nay at Yorkshire Northerners. Certainly the frequency of such nonsense has increased towards me since I chose to return to living life Up North.
Yes, you did read that correctly. I chose to return.
Because -- and here's the point of this blog -- Life in a Northern Town is really rather nice. Not grim. Not chavvy. Not stuck in the days of Bronte's Wuthering about.
So I'd like to tell you what is so Nice up North -- or at least what makes me smile. I hope it will make you smile too.
Watch this space -- Northern-ness is coming your way.
