As promised, here is my rather dishevelled attempt at 80s style icon Caron Keating in her bin bag dress!
Well, one person remembered her wearing it, anyway. She might have been humouring me...
The advantage of wearing a wraparound binbag dress was that I could stow it away as soon as it became a nuisance. But the fact that it became a nuisance was because it was made of binbags. They tend to stretch, and the thing was constantly falling off.
Total number of people who bothered wearing fancy dress: 4, I think. Ah well. Mind, OH dressed as the second Doctor, so didn't even have the right decade.
Well, maybe the above can be my "before" image. One day into the new year and my new fitness regime is going awesomely! While OH slumbered, I went for my traditional New Year hike.
I thought I'd go the 'pretty' way to get to the walk I wanted to do. Mind, the pretty way is not so pretty right now... loads of abandoned alcohol cans littering the way into the park behind the industrial estate, but at least the boggy conditions by the nature reserve seem to have deterred inconsiderate drinkers from going past the river.
Conditions were pretty squelchy as I went through the park, which is on the site of an old mill. Here you can see little eddies in the fast-flowing river.
In order not to lose my shoes in the mud, I picked my way through the bracken at the back of the church.
But the way really was very muddy! Some straw for the horses in a relatively dry spot, or a bit of equine line-dancing?
Then on to the N6, Brampton Valley Way. It was a very busy day. People out with their dogs, their kids, their chicken...
Oh yeah, there was a chicken. Wondered what to do about that at first. A lot of people just shaking their heads and worrying about foxes, but the poor chuck was clearly just as worried by some of the dogs on leads who were showing her some interest. I was close to phoning the RSPB, but a family were out walking their Labradors, and they knew the owner, so were able to alert her to the fugitive fowl.
I continued apace, and wow, my Fitbit is currently on 23799 steps, just over 9 miles walked today!
It's so tempting to throw money after keeping fit and healthy and losing weight, especially at New Year, but I'm using what I have (the Fitbit!) and won't be joining any clubs. All it has been doing over Christmas is logging just how far behind I am with my steps groups... no more. I'm winning, winning the Workweek Challenge I tell you! Mwa ha ha ha ha....
Won't last. There are some very competitive bods in my group. I can sense them getting twitchy...
It's an odd morning for me, as I currently appear to be dog-sitting invisible dogs!
The owner has a theory his other dog sitter has taken them for a walk, but it's turning out to be a very long walk indeed, so I'm not sure what to do now...
Today is November 5th, Bonfire Night. A night for fire and fireworks, toffee apples, and burning an effigy of attempted regicide, Guy Fawkes (except it's a school night, so most people seem to have done their burning of things last night). I watched the BBC drama series Gunpowder, produced by and starring Kit Harrington as his gunpowder plotter-ancestor, Robert Catesby. Harrington's genealogical research, and the clear passion that has inspired has imbued the drama with an unrivalled verisimilitude, I think. With some slight artistic license - I believe it generally takes hours to die of the torturous method of pressing, but I thought it was amazing. Of course, it has attracted some criticism for its unfettered violence, but I think that's really important to know the pain and degradation felt by the Catholics under ever more stringent clampdowns on their religion and religious expression, and to give an idea as to why Robert Catesby and the other plotters did what I did.
When I lived in the Black Country, I often saw the sign pointing towards Holbeche House, the manor where the gunpowder plotters, including Catesby, were found and arrested. I had no idea that it was the scene of a massive shoot out, though, and how many of them died in that place, and what was done to their bodies after they were buried nearby. A gruesome but fascinating part of our history. I wish I'd gone before it was turned into a care home for the elderly!
But last week, we were on staycation, and as a treat, OH took me for a drive to a "mystery location in Northampton". A trick to fool me, as in Gunpowder the manor house where the Catesby family lived was labelled in the series as being in Warwickshire. Well, nowadays, Ashby St. Ledger is in Northamptonshire. The manor is a private residence now, owned by Lord Wimborne, and a field separates the gates that would have led down to the house when it was in its own land with fewer neighbours.
It's a very beautiful house, and that's thanks to the current Lord Wimborne's efforts as just over a decade ago, apparently it was in very poor repair. the Crown Estate had to step in to buy the estate minus the manor house, and run by a "Rural Directorate" as an agricultural business. And Lord Wimborne might have inherited the estate from his grandfather, but it has been owned by quite a few people in between them - and businesses. British Airways owned it at one point.
Right next door to the manor house is the church, dedicated to Blessed Virgin Mary and St. Leodegarius. According to this website it has been there since 1100, but most of the buildings are 14th and 15th century. It's beautiful and has some fascinating frescoes, including one depicting the flagellation of St. Margaret.
Here at the side of the church you can just make out the famous "gunpowder room", a timber framed part of the manor house where the gunpowder plotters allegedly planned their act of terror.
Creepy skeleton commemorates the Black Death.
No more brass rubbing allowed!
This ornate tomb was beyond reach in a part of the church that looks like it doubles up as a storage area.
A wall memorial from early 17th century in which husband and wife are wearing ruffs.
This memorial plaque is topped with a harpie (blonde with very pink boobs)
Slightly closer view of the harpie
A Norman font.
Next to the font, there is also a mini exhibition on the gunpowder plot... which gave us a clue as to where we could go next.
But first, we had a spot of refreshment in the Olde Coach Inn, and then took in a but of the Jurassic Way which crosses through the village.
For our next destination, we had to cross the border into Warwickshire proper, to pay a visit to Dunchurch where the Old Red Lion Inn once stood, where the gunpowder plotters awaited news of the success of the plot, so they could nip off to Coombe Abbey to kidnap Princess Elizabeth and make her their sovereign. It is now known as Guy Fawkes House, and it's someone's house now. Someone who must have to get used to lots of people taking photos of their house!
While we were there, we thought we might as well also visit the outside of 12th Century St Peter's church, which has some lovely miserichords.
We were trying to work out the dates on this for longer than wasn't embarrassing.
So, what else was I up to on my staycation? Not much chilling I'm afraid... rather I seem to have become a bit of an activist.
It's a dire time in Northamptonshire, as the County Council have announced that they have so little money, they are going to be forced to cut services, some of which are not only vital, but also statutory, so they ruddy well can't, never mind shouldn't. Therefore they have a fight on their hands!
In the first wave of cuts to save £9.6 million, they have proposed the closure of up to 28 libraries (out of 36 across the county), but 21 can be "saved" if the community finds groups to run them with volunteers. Well... remember when I did that gig in a volunteer-run library? That is typical of community-run libraries, in that it depends on the unskilled retired, rather than trained librarians. Yes, people can still borrow books (from a limited supply, also donated by other nice people), but modern libraries are about so much more than book-lending. They provide access to computers, homework help, jobseeker support, mental health resources, blue badge provision, bus pass renewal, playgroups and health visitor services, and more! They are a frontline statutory service and our local authority is obligated to provide a decent and comprehensive service for all who wish to use it.
It has made me so angry. In reaction to the 3 pitiful options the County Council has suggested, many of us are joining the campaign Option 4 - Save ALL libraries. I think the CC are hoping we will be divided by trying to just back our local library under threat, and indeed I am backing Save Kingsthorpe Library, my local library (and it's crazy that this one only has 1 of the 3 options to stay open, seeing how used it is). We are investigating the figures for costs and usage provided by CC, and querying why other measures don't seem to have been taken with regards to budget reduction.
I can't believe this is a consideration for the council. It's the 21st century, and we need libraries more than ever. I am as baffled by this as I am incensed.
To help my campaign group I put together this video.
And on 28th October, I took part in a demo outside Kingsthorpe Library, which I filmed.
I've made a bit of a decision in the last couple of weeks: that I'm going to start saying no a bit more often. If I'm feeling tired, run down, rushed, ill-prepared or possibly-maybe-coming-down-with-something (especially if that something is skintness), I'm going to say no. No to spontaneous drinking sessions with 6.7% cider (seemed like a good idea at the time). No to organising events someone else has thought of. No to "ooh go one, just one more episode of Poldark even though it's gone midnight" (that's my own brain, that). No to feeling I have to prove myself as a go-getting woman of the world. Quite frankly, I am done with saying boo to geese... and what a stupid thing that is. Why do you say a timid person wouldn't say boo to a goose? It's a very sensible person who wouldn't say boo to a goose, I say. Or any word for that matter! Why go near geese? They are proper feisty. Only an idiot would go and say boo to a goose.
Anyway, I'm done with attempting to provoke angry responses from pond-dwelling birds. Except maybe little mandarin ducks because they are way too cute. No, you're right. No riling ducks either!
No need for all that any more. I'm a confident, high-achieving woman with at least 4 strings on my bow, which is why I haven't played violin since I was 10. But there is going to be a lot more of me in my house this week, getting things I want done. Maybe even cleaning the windows (weather pending).
It will all be in the cause of self-preservation. Speaking of which, I prettied up one of my gooseberry jams to take to my dad's this weekend.
And while I was at it, I also whizzed up a quick pesto; this one of yellow sticker watercress. That's just for me and my lunches that is. Very yummy too.
It was nice to be back in the Black Country this weekend, if weird through its unfamiliar familiarity, if you know what I mean. I've probably been away too long.
I noticed there is a trail of wolves throughout Wolverhampton, but I was only able to spot three on my journey, one of which was spied through the window of the No. 1 bus.
Now, the No. 1 bus is a very odd thing, because it is exactly the same route as the 558 used to be, but seems to have got rebranded as numero uno at the same time as the buses were fitted with a broad-accented bus-stop announcer. "Next stop. Dudley Rowud, Springfee-uld Grow-uv."
... incidentally that's where I got off the bus, and promptly bumped into my Uncle Chris and his partner (also Chris).
Aw... my family! As we walked the couple hundred yards until I could take the alleyway to the park I wanted to walk through, I saw loads of their neighbours open up windows and shout hello. It was like being in Pigeon Street, or Ballamory for even younger readers. Aw... Sedgley!
As much as nothing had changed thus far and it was all super friendly and delightful, I was in for a shock when I got to the bridge that leads out of Sedgley Hall Farm Park. This was the sight I was greeted with:
As far as I know, that's a right of way that's been blocked off, and that's no ruddy good. Never mind making it 'safe'; that bridge has been there since I was 8, and before that was some pretty well-used stepping stones. Here it is on the OS map:
I wonder if there's anywhere I could complain to about this? And did I climb over...? Yes I ruddy well did! Very, very slowly. But, I must say, it did put me off offering to take this scamp for a walk... though here he is, all tuckered out after my step-sister did. Aw, Bandit sleepy!
I was back in the Black Country to see my dad, which was very lovely indeed. But also, I had a gig on the Sunday. This was at Bushfest the summer comedy festival organised by the Holly Bush in Cradley Heath: loads of acts all weekend, free entry, very cheap beer. I had an ace time at my early Sunday afternoon gig slot, and then hung around to see the excellent Milo McCabe as Troy Hawke. An absolute masterclass in hilarious crowd-interaction. He must have spent 5 minutes trying not to lose a heckle-bark-off with a dachshund in the audience, I fair thought my sides might split. Great stuff about Scrabble and Poundland.
Good to see me old muckers from the comedy circuit, Dave (Wolfy), Dinzy, Jay, Pete (Trisha), Cal (Mike or Bug-eyed Bernard) and Billy. Second time I'd gigged with Pete this week... and this time, Id forgotten to pack any makeup whatsoever, so I was on stage utterly bare-face, while he was in the full MAC as per usual. Aw heck, I'm just jealous!
And thence back to Northampton via Smethwick and Birmingham New Street, where the wolves looked a bit funny.
I just thought I'd share my photos from today's Mayday walk. IT'S TRADITION!
We could have taken the car and explored the Northamptonshire countryside, but we decided to use pure foot power and walked to Abington Park.
Well, one tradition you have to follow when you go to Abington Park is go and see the birdies. There's an aviary there full of lovebirds, budgerigars, canaries, quails, bantams, zebra finches and other things that go "meep meep" (not Roadrunner). And of course, the fabulous peacocks. Just a couple of the blue fellas there today. There's usually a white one as well. Don't know where he's gone.
The park is a fantastic arboretum. Just look at all these trees.
And this one is awesome. There's OH, waving.
Abington Park sits on the site of a medieval village. Some of the structures on the park date back to those times, but there's also this fantastic house which was built in the fifteenth century and is now a museum. There are plays held in the courtyard every summer - I've even been in one of them!
Shakespeare's granddaughter Elizabeth Barnard lived there, and is buried at St Paul's, also on the park site.
There being lots of trees, there are also millions of squirrels. How many can you spot?
And some of them are very bold and will come right up to you.
There are some really good play parks for the kids, and lots of gym stuff for, erm, adults, too. This one makes you think that gravity has stopped working.
When we got down to the boating lake, it started to pitter patter.
All these photos were taken in the rain. Very nice lake though. We got chatting to the bailiff who was fishing and had been landing some small tench and perch before the rain. We learned that there are some 20lb carp in this lake. A good fishing lake that OH can walk to with only £15 license fee per year! I think I know what to get him for his birthday now.
Finally, a drizzly picture of "The Pigeonry". More than a simple dovecot, this was originally built as a water tower to pump water for the manor house.
We put up with the rain for a bit before deciding to duck inside for a hot chocolate. No ice creams from the van today. When the rain showed no sign of abating, we braved it again and I think a suggestion of popping into another pub on the way home was briefly considered. Luckily, just as we neared said pub, the rain stopped and we sensibly decided to go home for a nice cuppa instead. Temptation avoided!
Well, we may have been soggy, but it was a nice, energizing walk. Think we did about 5 miles. My knee might need a bit of Voltarol, mind.
We settled in, and watched Being John Malkovitch which we recorded yesterday. Bloody hell, why have we not seen this film before? It is extremely weird and just a bit brilliant. I like weird, me.
Hello and welcome to the future! I hope you're enjoying your hover-boards and self-tying trainer laces! Remember kids, hover-boards don't work over water.
A few people have asked me if I have any New Year's resolutions, and I realized that the thing about "resolutions" is that you can't say "resolutions" without sounding a bit sloshed.
Try it for yourself right now. Resolutions, resolutions, resolutions. See?
I really only have one goal that I'm not already working on, and that's to try to be healthy - properly. And so OH and I are going to have a go at sobriety. Pfft! As OH is also in training for his first half-ironman, I think we need to go a bit beyond January, but we're inspired by the likes of the Hairy Dieters and Tom Kerridge who've basically just cut out the booze and done a bit more moving to get amazing results:
Ah... so one picture is long and the other is short. I see...
We kicked off the New Year with an intrepid six-mile hike round the Northamptonshire countryside. A good way to break in OH's new walking shoes.
En route, we saw a woodpecker. Can you spot it in the trees?
Our walk took us through the boggy fields of the nature reserve, and around the picturesque village of Boughton. We saw a flock of partridge scatter as we passed. Our destination was the ruins of 12th century Boughton village's original St John the Baptist Church - the beautiful Gothic architecture is slowly being taken over by nature. Here, OH's attention is taken by the sudden hoot of an owl.
An unlikely member of The Cure, yesterday.
The church was in use until sometime towards the end of the 15th/early 16th century, and sketches drawn in the 1700s show the tower was still standing then, though the walls were down. There is a field nearby which was the old village green, where evidence of an abandoned medieval village has been found around it. Strangely, the churchyard itself is still in use as consecrated ground and there are recent graves dotted among the Victorian stones there. The green itself was where the annual fair was held until 1916 - the biggest in the country, locals claim. Wouldn't it be great if they held one for the 100 year anniversary?
We also spied one of the Boughton Hall follies - the famous obelisk, now surrounded by a housing estate. We didn't spy any of the famous black squirrels, though. Another time, maybe?
In more Christmas leftover news, I found something to do with leftover mincemeat and 3 dark brown bananas from the much-neglected fruit-bowl.
Mmm, I think Paul Hollywood would see through the icing sugar disguise!
Banana and Mincemeat Tea Bread
200g self-raising flour
1/4 level teaspoon bicarbonate of soda
1/2 level teaspoon salt
75g butter (unsalted)
100g sugar
2 eggs, beaten
3 ripe bananas, mashed
a handful of almond flakes (optional - or use any chopped nuts)
80g mincemeat (this was 1/4 jar that we had left)
25g sultanas (add a few more if you like)
This was a bit of guesswork, but I knew that you can adjust the sugar in a traditional tea bread by adding other sweet things. It happened to turn out pretty well like this.
Preheat the oven to 175 degrees Celsius: It's a slow baker, so you will also need to protect the bread from over-browning by making sure the shelf level is appropriate before you start. I didn't and ended up swearing a lot, not realizing OH was on the phone to his mum.
In one bowl, sieve together the flour, salt and bicarb. In another cream together the butter and sugar until pale and fluffy, then mix in the eggs, little by little. Add the mashed banana and mincemeat, mix well, then gradually stir in the dry ingredients and the extra sultanas and nuts.
Pour the mix into a greased, lined 1lb loaf tin. In hindsight I would add a paper cover to prevent over-browning from the very start as this will take 1 and a quarter/half hours to cook through (knife comes out clean).
Mind fingers and remove from the tin to allow to cool on a wire rack.
