I do have a bit of a thing about vampires*

I am currently loving Being Human on BBC3 (Sunday nights, 9pm, repeated lots of times throughout the week, so you really have no excuse for missing it).

I caught the pilot episode last year, and loved that. It came with good credentials, as the lead writer is Toby Whithouse who wrote ‘School Reunion’, one of my favourite episodes of Series 2 of Doctor Who. I did wonder what they’d make of it for the series, particularly when I read that most of the leads, bar Russell Tovey**, had changed. Having now seen 5 out of the 6 episodes, I think it’s been a change for the better.

Basically it’s the story of a vampire, a werewolf and a ghost who share a house in Bristol. Why Bristol? Who knows. Maybe they’d be less noticeable there! It’s quite dark, well, there’s a lot of death, for one thing, but it’s also very witty. There are sometimes plot holes if you think too deeply about it, but on the whole, it’s very well written.

Of course, the rather gorgeous Aidan Turner, as vampire Mitchell, is a bit of a bonus.

Last night gave us a cliff hanger, and it’s the final episode of the series next week. I’m hoping that they’re going to resolve it in a way that there can be another. I may just cry, otherwise.

*Just ask anyone who knew me through my six series addiction to Buffy the Vampire Slayer
**Best known as a History Boy, but also as the Midshipman in Doctor Who, who finally gave DT’s Doctor the chance to say ‘Allons-y Alonso’.

The Handbag Walkers reunited (or, this is where it gets serious)

It’s been a long time since all three of us have gone walking, unless you count round the shops. I think the last time was early July! But this week was half term for the other two*, so we planned to walk mid week.

Wednesday dawned dull and drizzly. In the past this would have put us off, but not now. As always, despite our best intentions, it was nearly lunch time by the time we neared our destination, at the top of Nidderdale.

J, our driver, announced ‘I’m hungry’. Only one thing for it, a detour off the road to an idyllic little pub. As we sat down in front of the roaring fire, and realised it was our sort of place, it was tempting to linger.
‘We still have to walk, you know!’

After lunch, we drove a few more miles to the village of Lofthouse. It was still drizzling, but we’re much better prepared than we used to be. In fact, J didn’t look much like a handbag walker at all, she even had a rucksack, and she and V both had walking poles.

‘I think Val needs a pole next’
‘We’ll be buying gaiters next’
J: *softly* ‘actually, I already have some’

As it turned out, both would have been useful, as the first half mile or so was pretty much pure mud, churned up by cattle, so stinky mud too. Not the sort to fall over in! Without gaiters, or tucking my trousers into my (proper) walking socks, I was soon up to my knees in it.

Once past a farm, and climbing out of the valley, it improved however. Still wet, but less muddy. The next obstacle was all the ‘squeeze styles’. You can’t afford to be too fat, otherwise you’d not get through them

Reaching the village of Middlesmoor, we were promised both a tea room and a pub, however, the tea room seemed to have vanished, and the pub was closed! So we had to admire the wonderful view down the valley instead. It was impressive even on such a murky day, and must be glorious in summer.

Onwards, and down to How Stean Gorge, which had a tea room, with lovely home made cakes. Just what we needed. With a spring in our step, we completed the walk, and arrived back at the car.

‘Right, now it’s time for the rest of the essential elements. Shopping, and a high quality butchers. So it was off to Pateley Bridge, where, a few months ago, I’d bought a ring. This was one of the reasons for the trip, as one of the stones had fallen out. What I hadn’t bargained for was V trying to persuade me to buy another one. This time, I managed to resist, and she bought one instead.

A final stop at the butchers, and the oldest sweet shop in England, and it was time to head home (well, the shops were closing, anyway)

‘We do have fun, don’t we?’

*Don’t you just love how many holidays teachers get? And no, I still wouldn't do the job in a million years!

Something new

We were reading magazines on the train down to London, when we saw that one had a Forum, and also offered walking groups, and supper clubs.

At the end of last week, I decided to have a look around. I found a thread about a North Yorkshire walking group, and posted to say that I was interested. I got a message giving me the details that their first walk was on Saturday, around the town of Boroughbridge.

I set off to meet others in a car park. It’s not like I’ve never done this before *ahem*, but I was still a little nervous, as I do find it difficult to break the ice with strangers. What if I didn’t find them, what if they’d already set off? Oh well, if it came to that, I’d just have a look round the shops.

As I parked, I spotted one or two others who looked dressed for walking, but didn’t approach anyone till we reached the meeting point, just in case. But I was right, this was the group. It turned out that a few of them had met for coffee a couple of weeks ago, but this was the first walk.

I looked around. Everyone seemed dressed for walking. ‘Proper’ shoes/boots, jackets, rucksacks, and most also had a bottle of water. It was only 3.5 miles. To be fair, I look a lot more like a serious walker than I used to. I have the shoes (which are wearing out *shock*), I have the jacket. But I also have the handbag!

The walk was one I’d done last year, so I didn’t really need directions. As always, it was pretty muddy, which resulted in one of the group falling full length when going through a gate. We chatted, and I discovered a little more about each of them, hoping people didn’t spot my rather obvious strategy of dropping into different parts of the group to talk to different people. Two others were from York, and all seemed very nice, and keen to do more walks. The level was about right, as no one was desperately serious about it, and everyone was keen to find a pub or tea shop afterwards.

We sat in The Crown, and planned the next walk. I’ll give it a while before I introduce the handbag walking concept though, I think.

Diet Update

OK, so I’m not going to do this every week, but:

Week 1: weight lost 2.5lbs

I’m pretty chuffed after the 5 scones and the cakes and the champagne!

Just got to keep it up now.

On being Northern

Whilst having tea, we noticed that some of the other tables were being given little packages to take with them when they left.

‘Oh, how lovely, you get a little present’.

A little later, we realised that these packages differed in size from table to table.

‘I don’t think it’s a present, I think it’s a doggie bag’

We looked at our plates.

‘We’re not going to get one, are we*? We’re Northern, and we’ve eaten everything, and asked for seconds!’

*we did get a tiny tin of tea each though.

A Grand Day Out

A long time ago, it seems, we won the jackpot a few times at our Sunday quiz. Rather than fritter the money away, we decided to save it, and have a special treat. As we had the best part of a couple of hundred pounds, we could do something really nice. After lots of debate, we hit on the idea of doing afternoon tea at Claridges. Our winnings would pay for our train fares, and tea, and if we saved a little more each week, we would also have spending money.

Yesterday the day finally came, and snow, ice and National Express trains permitting, we were off. The train was actually on time leaving York, but there were some heavy blizzards through the midlands, so we were about 50 minutes late arriving at Kings Cross, which, given the weather we’ve have across the country this week, wasn’t too bad.

As soon as we arrived, I got stuck into my role as ‘official tour guide’ (ok, well, maybe not ‘official’ as no one asked me to do it), armed with my trusty pop-up map.

We’d also discussed what else we were going to do, and lots of ideas were floated:

‘What about the Tower? You’ve (me) never been?’
‘What about a gallery? What’s on?’ (we checked out the websites and the papers)
‘What about a trip on the river?’
‘Well, you’re the only people likely to go on the river with me’

Eventually we’d decided on the V&A, where V hadn’t been for quite a few years, and then a bit of shopping, probably around the Covent Garden area (well, at least I know where the shops are there), so we jumped on the Piccadilly line and were soon in South Ken.

We went round the Magnificence of the Tsars exhibition, but found it a little disappointing – I guess we should have read the small print, which said ‘men’s court dress’, but then also looked at the fashion, and the paintings, and most impressively, the jewellery section, where I spent time picking out which tiara I would have*. We then stopped for a light lunch, before heading up to Harrods for a quick look around.

Deciding that our winnings couldn’t quite run to any of Harrods prices, we caught the Tube up to Bond Street, and had a look in a couple of the department stores before heading for Claridges.
When we arrived, a little early, we were told that our table was ready for us, but adjourned to the ladies cloakroom to make ourselves look presentable.

When we were shown to our table, and it was time to order the sandwiches, the fun started. J was straightforward, she would have everything. As for me, well…

‘Ok, this is where it gets complicated. Can I have no butter, and can I have the smoked salmon without…, and the ham without ...’ V wanted her sandwiches without tomato. Our waiter was lovely, however.

We decided on the champagne afternoon tea, and were served a glass to start with – which was useful, particularly as we had to wait a while for our sandwiches.

When they arrived, they were delicious, and we were offered more, but decided that rather than continue to complicate matters, we would move on to the scones and cakes.

The scones were utterly fabulous. It might seem strange to rhapsodise about a scone, but I’ve never tasted anything like them! We had a second helping, and when I tell you that I ate 5, I’m also telling you that they were dinky little scones. There were also champagne jellies, which were delicious, and really cleansed the palate, and tiny little meringues and fruit tarts.

Of course, we were also taking a few photos of the occasion, but then so were lots of others. I think all in all we were there around two and a half hours, so it was pretty good value for money, and a very special way to celebrate our winnings.

Afterwards, we walked through Mayfair, and through Berkley Square. Sadly, there wasn’t a nightingale in sight, and only one side retains its original Georgian splendour, but it gives an idea of what it must have been like. We then caught the Tube to Covent Garden and spent about an hour just browsing round the shops, before heading back to the train via a quick visit to St Pancras, as neither of the other two had seen the remodelled station. Sadly we didn’t have time to visit the champagne bar, so I picked up a small bottle of rose cava to drink on the train. I have to say it didn’t quite match up to the champagne!

I was home by 10.30pm, and it had been the most fabulous day out. Now, we just need to win some more money!

For the record, the Manchester tiara! It was the most sparkly.

And then there were three

It was last Monday that decided me. I’d been in Manchester on Sunday night, and really enjoyed it for the second time, but by Monday, I was doing far too much work, and everything felt a bit flat.

I did a bit of on-line searching. It wasn’t difficult to find a good seat, particularly when I only wanted one, and, when you think about it, Sheffield is actually the closest venue to home. Next thing I knew, I’d booked for Friday night.

I was on the left hand side of the auditorium, so I’ve now seen if from left, right and end on. I think that’s probably enough.

Once again I loved it. Of course the highlight was my boy. Quite, quite, beautiful. And the dancing was pretty good too.

The waltz has really developed over the past few weeks, and is now so smooth and beautiful. They seem to glide across the floor, the epitome of what a ballroom dance should be. As Len always says, the waltz doesn’t have the ‘wow’ factor of some of the other dances, but it’s my favourite, as it has all the romance. The ending seems both technically complex, and utterly gorgeous, as Flavia twirls away from him, and then leans back, as Gethin lowers her to the floor, with her neck resting on his arm. This time, they got 39, and it really should have been 40.

As you know, the salsa hasn’t thrilled me as much as I’d hoped at previous performances, despite ‘that shirt’, but this time it was brilliant. It had great energy and for the first time he seemed to really feel the emotion of the dance, as well as having the moves (and boy, can those hips move). Again they got 39, with even Craig giving them a 10. A ten. For Latin. From Craig!!

After the dance, as they received their comments, he admitted he’d elbowed Flavia in the eye whilst they were rehearsing backstage, which was why she was crying. He was incredibly apologetic about it, and utterly lovely. As they left the dance floor, he swept her into his arms, and carried her up the steps and off stage. It was a very Rhett Butler moment!

As for everything else, well, I thought R&V’s rumba was the best I’d seen it. Julian was hilarious (he finally won on Sunday night in Sheffield!), and Jill and Darren were fabulous.

That’s it for this year. I’d certainly go again, but possibly not as many times as this year. Unless, of course, there’s someone who catches my eye in the next series who goes on to do the tour.

As for the Jones boy, well, as Cat said, you can’t really go and see him ‘presenting’, which makes things a little difficult, but he’ll be back on TV, and I’m sure an opportunity will arise someday.

The new season of handbag walks

So you thought that we’d stopped? Wrong. We’ve done two walks in January, the first on New Year’s Day. Admittedly not many, but better than last year, when we didn’t start till February.

The New Year walk was around Terrington. As it was out of a different book, we took the almost unprecedented step of having an OS map with us. It was also bitterly cold. From the picture, I almost look like a serious walker – well, apart from the pink hat, pashmina and handbag, that is.

The second walk was longer. 5 miles this time, around Ripon. It was much milder, though very muddy (so nothing changes then). It had all the elements, starting with a lovely tea shop near the cathedral, and a little shopping, followed by the walk. At one point we had to ‘strike unerringly’ across a field. By the time we were at the other side, I think we’d taken half the field with us.

It was pretty heavy going, and I did feel exhausted when we finished. I’d also just about worn a hole in my walking socks. Never thought I’d be doing enough walking to wear them out. So then it was time for a late lunch at another tea shop, and a bit more shopping. I even bought some new walking socks (proper ones, not from Tesco’s this time) in the sales.

Here’s to the new season!

The diet starts here

This time I am determined. When I got back from the cruise last July, I discovered I’d put half a stone on, and it’s stayed there. I have to admit I haven’t worked very hard to lose it, as I’ve been snacking when I feel like it, but now I need to get cracking again.

It’s exactly two years since I started my diet, and lost two stone. I wanted to loose up to three, but that last stone never came off. If I could lose one now, I’d be happy enough.

I’m writing about it on here, because I hope it will give me added motivation. My lifestyle sometimes isn’t conducive to eating healthily, particularly when I’m away from home, as sometimes you just have to eat what you can get. The other thing I have to remember is not to buy it in the first place. If it isn’t in the house, then I can’t eat it.

All that, and I’ll have to cut down on the wine too!

'The night when anything can happen...and usually does'

Saturday night was the last night of this season’s York Panto. It’s Berwick’s 30th, (and he did miss a couple of years back in the 80’s), and David’s 21st. For me, I guess it’s about my 25th panto, as I didn’t come in right at the beginning, and I can’t remember how many last nights I’ve seen.

You have to get the tickets by ballot, usually in about March, and there was a bit of a panic last year, as this time it was limited to four tickets per household. As there’s a core of 6 of us who go, that could have been a bit of a problem – thankfully, between us we secured 8 tickets.

I’m the only one of us who goes twice, once to see the show, and then to see what happens on the last night, when the crew play all sorts of jokes on the cast. The actors look of fear, when the audience start to laugh and they can’t yet see the reason, is a joy to behold. This year we had rather fab seats in the stall. The last night audience doesn’t need any warming up. From joining in the chorus of ‘Babbies and Bairns’ before the curtain goes up, we’re into it.

Every year, the audience have a ‘script’ to follow, which seems to get more complicated year on year. This time we had two pages, and also had to put on a mask at one point in the show. We’re pretty slick after years of practice:

Everyone leave the stage screaming when Dick arrives. Dick is confused.
Dick: My popularity appears to have declined
Us: We still love you!

Dick, standing before Old Mother Shipton’s Petrifying Well*: Should I go in?
Us: No!
Dick: Should I let Old Mother Shipton go in?
Us: Yes!

It was fabulous, all the Eurovision references just as funny as before, but this time performed by a band who were dressed as highwaymen in Act 1, and as a Rock band in Act 2 – must have been very hot in those wigs. Best gag of the night was probably the sight of the Artistic Director and the Chief Executive running screaming across the back of the stage when Berwick said ‘I’ll just have to go on till I’m seventy’.

At the end, he always announces what next year’s (this year’s!) show will be.

‘Humpty Dumpty – we’ll be keeping the title, and there’ll be an egg’

It’s enough to bring us all back for more.

*A real place, honest.