The drain now standing ...

"In the middle of all this [in Jeddah] I chance upon the nostalgic sight of a manhole cover made by Brickhouse of Dudley, impressively inscribed 'The Pennine Drain Cover'." from Around the World in 80 Days by Michael Palin

Of all the spoor of the industrial West Midlands that litters our planet, none is more immediately visible and instantly recognisible to me than the Brickhouse Dudley drain cover. These sturdy and unhandsome lumps of iron are embedded into the surface of streets and pavements in almost every village, town and city in the UK, a permanent reminder to me of my beloved Black Country, the home where my heart is.

As I said in a previous post, The Black Country, according to Wikkipedia, is "a loosely-defined area of the English West Midlands conurbation, to the north and west of Birmingham, and to the south and east of Wolverhampton, around the South Staffordshire coalfield". But them's just words. For me, it's a huge part of my identity. Being from the Black Country is more important to me than being a woman or being white or being British. I have a very definite Black Country accent, sometime weak, sometimes very broad, depending on who I'm with, and I wouldn't lose it for the world. It's just bostin, mate.

So, to honour my roots and celebrate the 'iron in my soul' that is the Brickhouse Dudley drain cover, I have started a photoblog called Democracy and Proper Drains - tracking the spoor of the industrial West Midlands across the UK (and beyond?).