These will hold up the mantelshelves in the front room and the dining room.
Like their plainer counterparts in the kitchen
(and bathroom), they're from Yesterhome, and cast in Birmingham. They're not cheap, but they are really nicely finished. Service is good too - easy to order on the website, postage at standard Royal Mail rates, and dispatched quickly. The ornate brackets were out of stock when I first looked, so I ticked the box saying 'email me when they're back in' without much hope, but just before Christmas I got the email to say ther were available again.
It tool me ages to track down some decent brackets, so if you're on the lookout, Yesterhome are definitely worth a try. They have all sorts of other tempting stuff as well...
That building is of course Sheffield University's Arts Tower - and as well as seeing it from my study window and passing it on the way to the office, I forgot to mention that I've taught in its basement too. Rather churlishly, we tend not to like its windowless lecture theatres - especially as last semester they were too small for what we were trying to do.
Built in the sixties, and opened in 1966, the tower did, as the name suggests, originally house all the Arts departments. Sadly, they have outgrown it, and although Architecture and Landscape still have the privilege of occupying the upper floors (and I, once, have had the privilege of visiting them), the rest of the building is largely given over to offices now, with HR on the 5th and 6th floors being my most frequent destination (after the basement).
It's the tallest University building in England (Glasgow pips it to the British crown) and was until 2009 the tallest building in Sheffield. What it is most famous for, though, is this:
The Arts Tower Paternoster lift is reputedly the largest in the world. It has 38 'cars' whcih can each take two people. Paternosters were popular in Europe from the early 20th century, but fell out of favour in the 1970s. In Britain, they were particularly popular in university buildings, but over the years there numbers have declined, largely, it seems, over safety concerns - which, to be honest, are understandable. Until last year there were three remaining in the UK, all in universities; now there are two - the University of Leicester have just closed theirs, and will replace it with a conventional lift, citing not safety but the impossibility of getting spare parts for it - something I guess will chime with historic boaters. Sheffield's however was completely refurbished - with added safety features - in 2009, and the university website assures readers that it will be in operation 'for many years to come'.
I confess I was quite trepidacious about using it at first, until - on that visit to Landscape - my boss said, 'I suppose it's a bit like getting on and off a boat' and I thought, I suppose it is, a bit, really - and have quite taken to it since. I was slightly disconcerted on when occasion when, after I had safely disembarked, the lift stopped, leaving my colleague in the next car coming up peeping up from below ground level. She did eventually clamber out - I'm not sure I would have dared in case it had started again.
Rather like the waterways system, it's a refreshing reminder that 'health and safety' hasn't actually gone mad (see 'most popular posts'), and we are still trusted to do slightly dangerous things (and very dangerous things, like driving cars). We even trust students to do it! So long may the Arts Tower Paternoster continue.
We broke our journey down to Newhaven with a short detour off the M1, to visit somewhere we usually only see at the height of summer.
It was all looking quite festive - they'd had quite a lot of snow, although the roads were clear by the time we got there.
I finally bought Pete and Irene (of Renfrew, and Rat, and James Loader, and Lucy...) the dinner I'd promised since they so enhanced our enjoyment - nay, survival - of the Thames in 2016. Enjoyable as that was, it was a bonus addition to the main purpose of the detour... to collect a piece of oak:
Beautifully cut and finished by Pete from my very technical drawing:
Which was emailed to him in exactly the form you see it here.
No prizes for guessing where that's destined for (especially if you look at the photo file names :-)
When we set off for Sussex on Friday, it was snowing, and had been for some of the night. Big, wet flakes, settling on un-gritted roads. We took the roundabout, more contoury, less hilly, route out of Walkley and set off on our usual route via the A61. We crept along fine until we got to the other side of Woodseats but then the traffic started to back up. In the distance we could see a bus slewing, failing to get up the hill to (at?) Meadowhead. We sat, and sat, and debated whether to turn around and go another way, and then the queue of traffic moved a little, then stopped again. Then another couple of vehicles moved forwards, and then we could see what was happening.
Two men - as far as I know just local members of the public, with a bucket and shovel, were spreading grit from the bunker half way up the hill, walking back and forth with it, and making the difference that enabled the traffic - including the buses - get up the hill.
Now, that might happen in London, but I'm not so sure.