"Would you be mine? Could you be mine..."

Won't you be my neighbor?
You would have to move to Crookes upon the high hills surrounding Sheffield's city center in order to play Mr. McFeely to my Mr. Rogers. After two weeks in England we continue to explore our own neighborhood and others throughout the city. About 2.5 miles uphill from the city center, "Crookes" derived its name from the Old Norse "Krkor" meaning nook or corner of land. Our little nook began developing in the 1790s and by the 19th century became a holiday destination for residents of Sheffield, because after dragging vacationers 2.5 miles directly uphill the carriage horses probably died. Thus Sheffieldians of the Industrial Era happened upon an escape from the city grime. Flash forward a couple hundred years and Crookes contains a bustling little slice of Sheffield. Its residential rows are connected through a conduit of commercial activity on its main street, filled with cafes, shops, and a variety of restaurants. As we live directly within this dynamic thoroughfare, experiencing local businesses and community life has become a favorite pastime.

The Co-Operative, a fair trade organization which brands itself better than WalMart and which we find everywhere (Co-Operative pharmacies, Co-Operative markets, Co-Operative banks), runs a grocery only a minute's walk from home. We find ourselves scouring the shelves every couple days, as large monthly shopping trips are out of the question.

To supplement our shopping at our beloved Co-Operative, Crookes offers a fresh produce market conviently across the street. Here the produce of local farmers as well as international delights are displayed and offered at surprisingly low prices. Not yet completely familiar with pounds to dollars and grams to pounds (lbs.) conversions, I have on more than one occasion frugally approached the till with two items instead of the basket full of yummy fruits and veggies I had initially eyed, with the inspired idea that I would save oodles of cash only to discover that I owed the friendly proprietor just 65p in total.

Turn right from our garden's archway for a quick trip to the Co-Operative or the produce market, but turn left to discover fresh flowers of all sorts and sizes smartly arranged by our local florist. Actually Crookes has three prominent florists I've noticed, but I'm partial to our neighbor as the proximity of her happy flowers brightens my mornings and welcomes me home upon my evenings. Kevin demonstrates the excited surprise one experiences upon receiving our favorite florists' creative arrangements.

Walking past the florist and turning at the post office on the corner brings you to the quieter side of Crookes, Sheffield's typical terraced row homes. Although row homes were introduced as early as the 16th century in Britain, Sheffield's terraced variety represents the quickly built identical dwellings of the working class after the Industrial Revolution. Nestled next to one such row is St. Vincents Catholic Church. Although we've only visited once, and on that occation were forbidden to offer a "peace be with you" handshakes to our fellow congregates due to strict UK regulations concerning Swine Flu, we felt comfortable among Crooke's Catholic community in the unusually minimalist sanctuary.

Sitting outside across from the Co-Operative at our first favorite cafe in Sheffield, the Hercule, we read the paper, captivated by the travel section, and lazily sip away at our steaming tea kettle for two. What defines our newly adopted village within this city? Could it be the people? Though Crookes is comprised of mainly locals, families, and, as we've discovered, the elderly (read: old-people-crossing warnings adorn roadsides instead of deer-crossing signs), a diverse assortment traverse our little table, going to fetch their kids from school, running to the market to grab missing vegetables for a dinner recipe, catching a bus to meet a friend in the city center, making one last delivery of the work day, or drinking in the full scene along with her cup of tea in the company of a true and loyal friend.