Monday, March 04, 2013

Blog Author Stuck For Title

The King, treating the latest incumbent in his pillory to the dignity and respect they had come to expect.

Look out the window, go on.  Do it.  Look out of the window.  That's March that is.  T'rffic, eh?  Nothing like it for lifting the spirits after what feels like three months of darkness, snow, ice, howling winds, war, death, pestilence and George Osborne.  To be honest it looks exactly the same as February did, only apparently Carole Kirkwood on Breakfast TV insists it is two degrees warmer this week than it was last week.  Now Carole has a very warm occluded front and I for one would love to get my hands on her isobars, so I take her word as the truth.  If this continues over the next few weeks we should be able to boil kettles on our car bonnets by mid May.
When I published the last instalment of this travesty of the English language as she is wrote (sic), I was still going all girly and wobbly kneed over a night out at a Justin Currie gig in Bridport.  Well, to be honest I still am, but only slightly less so you will be thrilled to learn.  The week after the Currie night (geddit?) saw me back in the car and heading back to Essex - it was a dreadful journey.  Through the roadworks near Clacket Lane on the M25, some Latvian dickweed had decided to smash his lorry through the side barriers and then leaving it smeared halfway across the already narrowed carriageway.  I was stuck here for just over two hours trying to get past, and all this with a bladder the size of Austria and nowhere for relief.  I finally arrived at Amanda's house in Basildon and promptly re-filled Hanningfield reservoir single handed.  It was that good I had to have a cigarette afterwards.  It was lovely to see Amanda and my lovely son James.  He is now wearing glasses and he looks great in them.  A sort of subtle mash up of John Lennon and Harry Potter.
Tuesday 26th February - my 46th birthday.  46?  Jesus.  I am no longer even a record speed.  I've done 16, 33 1/3 and 45, so it's just 78 to go and that's it.  I was to appear at St Mary's School at South Woodham near Chelmsford. I had last appeared at this school back in 2006, but most of them there reckoned they remembered me.  It was a group of about 60 kids today and mixed across years 3, 4 and 5.  They were an absolutely fabulous group of kids, very funny and attentive and we had a fine day.  During the lunch break the teachers from the group suddenly came into the staff room where I was sitting with a birthday cake, complete with candles!  I was very moved. Back in the hall getting ready for the afternoon I was delighted to see that one of the dinner ladies looked like River Song from Doctor Who.  "Hello Sweetie!" I shouted to her.  She looked at me as if I was wearing a jacket doing up at the back and frothing at the mouth.  Mind you, so would you if someone dressed as Henry VIII just suddenly bellowed "Hello Sweetie!" at you while you were removing the shattered remnants of cottage pie from a school hall floor and had no idea of who the hell River Song was and what her catchphrase was.  The jousting after that was a good show, very close and exciting and ended with a long overdue win for the Gentlemen.  This finally gives the gents another point and moves us on to:
That evening I took Amanda and James out to dinner, which was very nice.  The following day I drove down to Maidstone to see my lovely Shelley and took her out to lunch at Mexa Mexa our favourite restaurant in town.  We had a lovely day together sharing the sort of intimacy only and man and woman deeply in love can truly experience.   Yes, we wandered round loads of charity shops looking for bargains, mad passionate loonies that we are.  I drove home to Somerset that night, and apart from spending some time with my mate Pete Flanagan and a nice evening pint at the Rose and Crown at East Lambrook with Matthew Applegate, not a lot has been happening.  But a rest is as good as a change.  Or something.
Coming up the straight for Henry, I have an evening at Leeds Castle, some filming at Hever Castle, I am appearing on Emma Britton's BBC Somerset show as one of her "Somerset Lives" on March 16th and by the end of this month we will begin jousting again with a visit to Knebworth House.  Hoorah!
So what the hell would you have named this blog entry?  Exactly.  Me neither.

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