Helen Johnson, Yorkshire Writer
Helen Johnson Freelance Writer
In my previous post about 11th century Yorkshire, Northern Powerhouse of 1065, I wrote about how northeners, fed up with mis-governenance under Earl Tostig, made a stand. Tostig was exiled, Continue Reading →
Jane Hatcher and Bob Woodings have published a diary written in Georgian Richmond, Yorks, with extensive commentary about life in the town at the time. Continue Reading →
Yorkshire and the North-Easts boasts an impressive collection of Anglo-Scandinavian stone sculpture, skillfully carved with interlace. Gravestones, standing stones, crosses: pieces of stone built into the walls of churches that Continue Reading →
We hear the ‘Northern Powerhouse’ soundbite from time to time. But in 1065, a year before the Norman Conquest, the ‘Northern Powerhouse’ flexed its muscles. The ‘North’, the mythical place Continue Reading →
2019 sees Dalesman celebrate its 80th anniversary, and for twenty of those eighty years, I have been a contributor to Yorkshire’s favourite little magazine. I have had the pleasure of Continue Reading →
Christmas is a time for fun and celebrations of every kind, and at the Ryedale Folk Museum, they’re celebrating dance. Victorian Christmas The Museum specialises in bringing a Continue Reading →
Alan Swales grew up virtually living on Stokesley Fire Station, where his father was a fireman and his mother the cook. It was war time, and the Brigade, supported by Continue Reading →
Years ago, when Heather Ritchie moved to Swaledale, neighbours taught her to make traditional, thrifty, rag rugs. Heather was inspired to ‘paint’ with coloured rags, and her rugs became pictures. Continue Reading →
Members of the Battle of Fulford Society, led by Chas Jones, have unearthed more archaeology beside Germany Beck in Fulford, near York, England. I had the pleasure of Continue Reading →
It was great to see a Yorkshire lad win the National Pig Awards Young Pig Farmer of the Year. Matt Donald, who won the award, works on his family’s farm Continue Reading →