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Panto

Oh yes it’s a trip to the Panto…

On no it’s not…

Oh YES it is…

That might make no sense to anyone not used to Panto World. A big Christmas tradition in the UK. Outlandish costumes, songs, dances, bad jokes, family jokes, some not so family jokes, getting as many children in the audience to shout out and get involved as possible. So much more, most which are beyond rational explanation.

The Panto at the old York Theatre Royal is always brilliant entertainment. The hard work that must go into this to be this good.

One established Panto Law is that if you are a Dad, don’t sit anywhere near the stage and never ever on the front row. As you can see from the photo I was safely hidden in the roof…..

At every performance, one poor soul is going to have the longest couple of hours of his life. Picked on during the Panto to be a part of the show. A friend of mine was asked to pretend to be a Lion from his front row seat and I once was subjected to a custard pie in the face by the Panto Villain. At the show we went to last year, one Dad was picked on and at random times had to shout out ‘words of affection’ to the Panto Dame on stage. Panto Dame is probably unexplainable, just look it up….. Looking at that Dad’s increasingly red face, he was so hoping the torture would stop way before the 3 hour show’s big finale.

He got off lucky…..

This year a poor Dad from the front row was picked out. Oh boy was he picked out. Initially it started off like last year, with the Dad having to shout out a few embarrassing things from his front row seat. But then….. He was donned with a costume, brought on stage, given a sheet of written lines and tried as best as he could to act. Not exactly Oscar level acting unsurprisingly. Very funny but the other Dads in the audience also sharing in his discomfort, that could have been me….

When he returned to his seat, he clearly slumped thinking the torture was over….I was reminded of that Simpsons scene where Bart says he’s having his worst moment of his life and Homer chips in ‘SO FAR…’.

After the intermission that Dad had to endure a few more thankfully for him, briefer moments of embarrassment. Then the Big Show Finale. The Cast are leading the crowd in singing some famous songs and suddenly they announce they need to change costume for the ending, so the poor Dad was pulled on stage and left by himself to lead the audience in singing ‘I’m Gonne Be (500 miles)’. Stood all alone on stage in front of the sell out 750 audience, with the cast stood in the wings looking on. Poor poor man. I have a weaponised voice but not quite as out of tune as this Dad. He gamely tried some moves as well but you could almost see this man’s soul leaving his body as the song went on. Finally the torture was over for him, hugs from the Panto Cast and a standing ovation.

I bet he never ever sits on the front row of a Panto again. I will look out for him in the roof next year….. Where the coward Dad’s sit.

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Christmas Trees

I’ve finished putting up the Christmas Trees. A small one just in front of our front door.

And another tree in our small entrance hall.

Hopefully not too pretentious this year…..

In my dreams.

Maybe in reality we went to see how Castle Howard does Christmas…..

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Dracula at Christmas

An early online college finish for Hawklad and off we went for an adventure. Into the mist and drizzle…

We found ourselves by the famous old fishing town, Whitby. As the light faded, the weather closed in…

Definitely felt a bit more Gothic Dracula than Festive Cheer, but still fun. On nights like this you can imagine how Whitby inspired Bram Stoker to write the famous horror masterpiece.

Finally a few signs of the festive period…

Could the diet survive walking past one of the countries finest Fish and Chips restaurants…

NO…..

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Just before the Storm

We arrived as the clouds started to roll in. The clouds definitely looked increasingly threatening as darkness rolled in.

Storm Darragh is coming.

Part of the Christmas tradition now is to visit the December Illuminations at the Yorkshire Wildlife Park. They are definitely the largest illuminations around here, taking at least a good hour to walk round. Looking at the forecast, wind and rain due to hit Doncaster just after 5pm, this year time was short. Maybe I’m old fashioned but walking around outside illuminations works way better when you’re not dripping wet and frozen.

We made it to the last section before the heavens opened up. I really felt for the families (lots of them) arriving as we headed out to find warming hot drinks and food. There would be no cover whatsoever for them on their 2 mile trek from the now set in wind and rain. I so hope they could still enjoy the experience, we definitely did.

We were so lucky to get to see the lights as the site was closed today on weather safety grounds.

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Perfect Timing

Is there anything more festive than hanging precariously off the side of a tree, trying to hang some Christmas lights. Yes there is…

Hanging precariously off the side of a tree, trying to hang some Christmas lights, in the freezing Yorkshire rain. Wow it was pouring down. The ladder was slowly and relentlessly sinking into the ground. Why do Christmas Lights instantly form into multiple wire knots that increasingly form into a massive birds nest like lump.

Unbelievably I managed to finally get some lights up, with just two mini wire ball nests. No time to bask in the sodden glory, a village resident approached with a bundle…

“Hi, just give you this leaflet. Great news, the Village has been successful in getting Dark Skies accreditation. We are officially a great place to see the stars and planets now…”

Perfect timing as I’m just about to switch on some 80 outside lights. I could see the look I was getting, one of those LOOKS….

Still that LOOK didn’t take into account two important factors.

ONE…. These are solar powered lights needing many hours of sunlight… Apparently 6 hours of Sun produces 12 hours of Christmas Lighting.

TWO…. This is YORKSHIRE, we don’t do hours of sunlight.

A rough calculation based on the last few weeks weather would seem to suggest we should get about 10 minutes lighting sometime in March…

I think the Dark Skies Accreditation is safe…..

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Dark side of the moon

Early afternoon in the Dark Side of Yorkshire.

Our 98 month old puppy with his way too full Dark Side of the Moon toy basket. I wonder if Pink Floyd ever imagined that their iconic 1973 album cover would reach these heights in 2024.

That box has seen many uses prior to being a well chewed soft toy repository. From LPs to loose photos to work documents. The box started to spilt with the weight of my records (a few Floyd ones as well) ….Too many records bought over the years. Photos, too many photos taken over the years…. Finally they got filed away neatly in albums. Work documents, well to be more precise, problems to be sorted. Overdue invoices, out of balance accounts, complaints, that kinda thing. Lots and lots of staffing issues. A bit too often this box was mostly filled with what felt like scripts from The Office. Let’s just politely say larger than life characters. Our Yorkshire equivalents of an Angela, Ryan, Andy and unbelievably TWO Dwights. Add our human (I think) version of the paranoid android Marvin from Hitchhikers Guide and someone who could out swear Gordon Ramsey. Oh let’s not forget the chap who thought it was ok to use a work credit card to buy stuff for his house including a PlayStation. The problems that box contained, Dark Side of the Moon definitely the perfect moniker back then.

But now it’s full of dog toys that have definitely seen better days. The abuse those poor things take on a daily basis. How does that fit in with the albums original themes of time inevitably passing, madness and the conflict between light and darkness. When the mad pup stops chewing his tennis ball, I will ask him.

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30 minutes

Late afternoon walk on the North Yorkshire Moors.

A three hour walk and not one sign of another soul anywhere on these moors. Definitely felt like a proper wilderness only 30 minutes drive from our front door.

On the drive home we got stuck in a traffic jam, a farm tractor decided to break down on a steep, narrow hill road. Just goes to show that we are also less than 30 minutes drive from a traffic queue.

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Not at all

For days this part of Yorkshire has been weather stuck. Stuck under mist, grey clouds and no sign of the sun. Apart from a few dog walks, the kind of weather that keeps you not too far from the fire. Trying to keep warm, I was sat going through some old photos and came across similar greyness in Switzerland. Rather than sat by a fire, here we were sat inside a warm lake boat, with hot drinks and breakfast, watching the world go reassuringly slowly by. Not belting anywhere at 100mph, just leisurely making our way across lake water. Savouring the journey rather than just impatiently trying to get somewhere fast.

Too often I find life goes by way too quickly, way too much stress, feeling out of control with no time to contemplate life. Even when the weather was grey, I treasured those moments of stillness on that lake. A chance to quietly think and breathe.

Those boat trips are years back, definitely well beyond my rear view mirror now. They haven’t really been replaced with anything similar. Life happened, a new reality dawned. A reality which often seemed like constantly moving from one activity to the next. Constantly busy, constantly occupied, rushing, maybe not achieving anything, maybe not feeling like making progress, just always doing stuff. Feeling like I hardly had any time to stop and breathe.

I love nature, I find so much peace there. When was the last time I spent real time gazing at a real mountain, a lake, out to sea. Not just a a fleeting glance then off again, actually stopping and taking the time to take in the wonder and the beauty. I’m tempted to say I don’t do this enough, but sadly the real answer is NOT AT ALL….

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Peaceful morning

Seconds from one of THOSE moments….

Walking along the peaceful Yorkshire roads. No cars, no people, just the sound of birds and a happy dog excitedly bouncing through a carpet of dry leaves. One of those times when the World seems still, peaceful. I try to capture the moment.

Then a dog does what a dog needs to do.

With Pop Bag in hand I bend over to deal with the smelly doggie gift. My mobile slips gracefully out of my jacket chest pocket and tumbles almost in slow motion to the ground.

Some things in life are INEVITABLE, Thanos was right about that.

Like a precision tool, my mobile scores a direct hit onto the newly produced Doggie Gift. Think of the sound welly boots make when squelching through inches of mud….

I am no physicist but there must be some universal laws at play here, but how does both sides of mobile get covered…. How does it get inside the protective case. How does it fill the speaker holes. For the first time my mobile has full coverage in Rural Yorkshire.

Then that realisation. No hankies, no tissues, nothing to begin to wipe it clean. A poop bag is absolutely no use here, it just spreads and smears. Dry leaves help a bit but they can only do so much. It’s a long winding two mile walk home with the smelliest mobile in the world and I’ve used my last poop bag

Do I just carry it at arms length like I’m holding some biological weapon….

Do I lose all self respect and just put it in my pocket……

Such decisions for a peaceful Yorkshire morning .