Maltman's Green, 50 Years of Who and Mistletoe Fayre.

Good King Hal and Jane Seymour having a "moment" on the stairs.

And so a week of work began with a trip back to Maltman's Green School near Beaconsfield in Buckinghamshire.  On my previous two visits, the first time I went I arrived horrendously early and had to sit around kicking my heels until someone turned up to let me in, so the next visit I decided to stay at a nearby hotel and wander over at a reasonable hour.  That time I got stuck in horrible local traffic and was nearly late, so I decided to leave early in the morning from Somerset and enjoy a gentle perambulation up to Buckinghamshire and try and arrive on time.  Initially this seemed to be going the way of the original journey as I was miles ahead of my time, and so I was already contemplating how I would pass the time until the school opened.  What could I do?  Untie my belly button and see if my bottom fell off?  Possibly.  Try and work out what the hell anyone finds entertaining about The X Factor, or any programme remotely to do with Simon Cowell?  Probably not enough time for that one.  Plan an atom bomb attack on Chatham?  Well, that one is quite well advanced already and to be honest if I did do it, probably no one would notice I'd been.  I can see the headlines already...  100 MEGATON BOMB DROPPED ON CHATHAM IN KENT... GOVERNMENT ESTIMATE NEARLY £2-WORTH OF DAMAGE.  But what the heck.  In the end my desires to have a restful stop and think were scuppered by a lorry catching fire on the A40.  By the time I got to this road I was less than six miles to the school and had about an hour and a half to spare.  That entire hour and a half was eaten up by sitting in the stationary traffic caused by this conflagration and I arrived at the school pretty much on time.

Maltman's Green is a lovely school.  It is an all girls private school, but comes across as very friendly and quite down to Earth.  I was very warmly welcomed by the teacher who had booked me, even though she sounded and looked very poorly, the poor love.  She was full of cold, very croaky and obviously not herself.  And the poor love didn't last that long.  Less than half an hour into the day she had to leave to go home.  She either felt very ill or had heard all my crap jokes before.  I reckon on the latter...  I was looked after by a very nice teacher who had officially retired the previous year, but came back from time to time to help out, and had come in especially to take over from the poorly lady.  And she could not do enough for me!  She even went off and got my dinner for at lunch time - an OBE is in the post to her, even as I type.  The kids were great, very lively and fun, and there was a good deal of good Tudor knowledge from all the pupils.  The jousting was great as well, but of course, being an all girls school I can't add their score to the ongoing jousting score.  That would be just unfair to the boys, and lets face it folks, they need all the help they can get when it comes to the jousting.

I left just after 3.30pm and had a very pleasant, if dark journey home.  It was overcast and miserable most of the way and there was a definite chill in the air.  Winter, if not in full vigour, is certainly close to finishing it's warm up routine.  I stopped at Waitrose in Crewkerne and treated myself to a bottle of wine, and then nipped to the Chinese for a very welcoming take away.

Thursday night I met up with Matthew Applegate from Barrington Court for a pint or two at the Rose and Crown at East Lambrook.  When I arrived he was in a very down state of mind.  Hardly surprising considering the way he and his family have been so appallingly treated by the National Trust lately.  He even looked cross when he discovered there was a quiz on at the pub that evening. At first we were going to sit it out in an adjacent room, but eventually we decided to take part.  There was just me and Matthew in our "team".  Most of the other tables had at least 6+ players on them.  And we won!  Wonderfully!  Though quite what I fully intend to do with my £12 prize money, I don't know.  A holiday in the Seychelles, perchance?  On £12?  I could get six months in Chatham for that.  In fact, I could buy Chatham for that and get change.  But it was great to see Matthew and he seemed pretty well cheered up when we left, but I think a couple of large slugs of Lagavulin had helped his general demeanour as much as my bonhomie.

Saturday and Sunday was the annual Barrington Court Mistletoe Fayre.  I was due to be doubly blessed at this event with the lovely Sarah Morris joining me on the Saturday, and the beautiful Katherine Miller playing my Queen on the Sunday.  As it was, poor Sarah had to cry off a couple of days earlier as she was just as poorly as the teacher at Maltman's Green had been.  She sounded truly unwell when I spoke to her on the phone.  So for the Saturday it was to be just me wandering round.  On the Saturday we were blessed with perfect weather.  It was bright, sunny and very cold - absolutely wonderful.  And the crowds turned out in their droves.  We supposedly had well over a thousand visitors on the first day alone, which is probably close to a record for the Mistletoe Fayre.  When I had finished at Barrington, I drove back to Crewkerne to pick up Katherine Miller from the station.  It was lovely to see her.  As you can see from the picture above, she is a stunningly beautiful lady, but is just so kind and friendly with it.  One of the nicest, gentlest souls you could ever wish to meet.  I drove her over to her digs at Shepton Beauchamp - she was staying at the Duke of York pub run by my good friends Paul and Hayley Rowlands.  They have superb new B&B facilities there and were kind enough to let me book the room for Katherine at a reduced rate.  Kat and I had dinner together at the pub - a sumptuous meal.  I have to say that my chicken and chorizo pie was quite outstanding, but the shoulder of lamb that Katherine had looked even better.  We put the World to rights and had a wonderful laugh and long chat into the night, before I drove back to Crewkerne.  I was not destined for an early night though...

Doctor Who has been one of my great passions since I was seven years old.  I can tell you the very moment I was bitten by the bug.  I was taken shopping in Chelmsford by my late paternal grandmother.  Whenever this happened she would buy me (or my sisters when it was their turn) various little pressies throughout the day.  As it was, our last port of call this particular day in 1974 was WH Smiths.  I was in the book department looking for something to keep me occupied for the weekend - and I first laid eyes on the wonderfully exciting covers drawn by Chris Achilleos, of the Doctor Who books range by Target Books.  My grandmother told me I could have one, but which was it to be?  The Abominable Snowman, showing a large Yeti menacing Patrick Troughton, or The Daemons, which showed a giant devilish figure seeming just on the verge of stamping on Jon Pertwee.  I could not make up my mind.  But time was racing and my Grandfather, fresh out of The Nags Head in Baddow Road, would be waiting in his car behind Bond's Department store, ready to whisk us to Moulsham Street and the fish and chip shop, and then home to their house in Margaretting for the cod and chips feast.  So I took blind luck and chose The Abominable Snowman, as the Yeti just looked so menacing.  I got to my Grandparents, started reading, and was transfixed!  It was a terrifying tale and great to read, plus it was a whole Doctor Who story I had never ever seen or even heard of before!  The next morning my Doctor Who addiction was completed when my Grandmother presented me with a copy of The Daemons as an extra present!  From then on I was completely and utterly hooked.

Saturday night just gone was the 50th anniversary of the first ever broadcast of Doctor Who, and a special was made and transmitted on BBC1, and throughout the globe featuring current Doctor, Matt Smith, David Tennant as the previous incarnation, and the incomparable John Hurt as a mysterious and, up till now, unknown previous Doctor.  It was epic, wonderful stuff and I sat transfixed watching this programme and immediately felt myself transported back to those Saturday early evenings in the 70's.  The escapism of it all.  The Doctor could take me away from the misery of school (God, I hated it) and whisk me off to unknown lands and planets, where nothing from my normal life mattered any more.  And the absolute icing on the cake for me with the 50th Anniversary show, was right at the end, a cameo appearance from Tom Baker - my Doctor.  He looked as old as I felt after that day of marching around Barrington, but it was still him.  That mysterious stranger, the hero who didn't kick the door in and machine gun all the baddies.  Guns were for thugs, this man was an interstellar gentleman. He would baffle them with science, humour, jelly babies and his galactic sized intelligence.  God, how I wanted to be like him.  So to Doctor Who, and the fellow anoraks like me who have had the mickey taken over the past 50 years for our love of this pacifist superhero, thank you.  Thank you for everything.  And here is to the next 50 years of limitless time travel and adventure.

Sunday was back at Barrington with Katherine Miller - the weather was a little overcast, and the numbers probably slightly down on the Saturday, but it was still tremendous fun.  Any walkabout at an historical house is pleasant, but when you get to do it in the presence of a beautiful intelligent lady like Katherine it makes it all the more special.  We had laughs a plenty, had a good jaw about life, the universe and everything, and the day seemed to pass in a shot.  We spoilt ourselves by buying some goodies at the end from some of the myriad of stalls, and soon we were changed and I was whisking Katherine back to Crewkerne Station and her train back to London.  I waved her off from the platform, and then drove home and, you guessed it, watched the Doctor Who 50th Anniversary episode again.  What an anorak!  It really had been a fantastic weekend.  Fun all the way and how a two days of historical house visits should be.  Not a cross word!

Next stop for the King is tomorrow with a return to the lovely Maynard School in Exeter, and a chance to catch up with my friend Keagh Fry.

Mistletoe Fayre 2012 Pts 1 and 2

Good King Hal adopting the "George Osborne Move" in getting money out of terrified elderly peasants to help support a poor investment banker fallen on hard times and down to his final Porsche and only £12 million to see him through at his hovel in Mustique.

Two days of the Mistletoe Fayre alongside a weekend with my lovely Shelley and the benighted Sir Owen of Leeds Castle and the Broomfield Exit.  What could possibly go wrong?  Well, the weather for a start.  For a few days it had hammered down with rain, and then it continued in much the same way, in enough quantities to make someone like Noah think "shit, where did I put my nail gun?"  However, Shelley made it to Somerset from Kent, and we had also managed to get to Barrington from Crewkerne across some of the dampest, wettest most mud caked roads you have ever seen.  Our cars were soon Somerset two-tone - normal body colour and then caked on layers of mud, cow dung and assorted flattened road kill. 

The Mistletoe Fayre looked as good as ever, the Blackdown Babes had done themselves proud!  Matthew Applegate also looked particularly chipper and happy, which was lovely to see.  Shelley and Owen accompanied me on the first day and we treated ourselves to lots of lovely yummy things like some pork and apple sausages, fresh meat pies, Scotch eggs and even some Cherry Brandy.  All real healthy stuff as you can tell.  Then in the evening, Shelley spoilt me even more, in a way only a woman can do for a man she truly loves.... Yes, we sat and watched "Prometheus" on DVD.  I thoroughly enjoyed it.  I think.

On Sunday, Shelley and Owen decided to make a run for the east ahead of the anticipated rain, and would include a stop off at Tidworth to see Owen's brother Jamie at his barracks.  I went back over to the Mistletoe Fayre and had another fine day, had a few chats with the lovely Rachel Brewer and took great delight in drinking some of her magnificent mulled cider.  Delicious.  Then to add to the fun and games, all the electrics in Barrington Court house fused plunging everyone into darkness.  I was in the old kitchen when it happened first - the lights flickered for a moment and then conked out.  It reminded me somewhat of when you watch movies of the Titanic and the electrics all fail on the doomed liner.  Well, just to keep up with the same sinking feeling I immediately started playing "Abide With Me" and "Rock of Ages" on my recorder.  But as far as I was concerned it was women, children and Tudor despots first, and when the lights had finally all been sorted I thought enough was enough for the weekend, and I made run for it.  So another very successful Mistletoe Fayre and another lovely weekend with Shelley. 

Old Cats and Wombles. Plus Dear Madam Barnham...

Good King Hal wondering why he is still clutching a gear stick, hours after parking the car.  Perhaps he did it manually, perhaps it was just automatic.

Roads, roads and more roads.  And Travelodges.  When you last read this riveting missive, your favourite mock Tudor monarch was ensconced in a Travelodge near Kings Lynn in Norfolk.  It doesn't get much more exciting that this folks.  No wonder anything up to six people still bother reading this travesty of the English language.  And of those six people, I thank you all and will buy each and everyone of you a beer.  But I feel this blog has almost run its course.

Anyway, away from me moaning about people not bothering to read this crap, back to Henry on the road.  According to my sat nav, the drive from Kings Lynn to Old Catton School in Norwich should take about an hour and a quarter, so I gave myself and hour and a half, just to be on the safe side.  I should have given myself longer.  The traffic was bad all round, but by the time I reached the outskirts of Norwich it was horrendous and the journey ended up taking me over two hours and made me a bit late.  But there were fun moments.  Whilst driving along the A47 to the west of Norwich I drove past the Canary and Linnet Pub where many years ago a whole group of us had spent a mad New Years Eve, with a miserable landlord with a round pool table (yes, round).  It was a space saving pool table where you could turn the table round for your shots, but we soon discovered in our drunken states that if you racked all the balls up in the middle, removed the frame and then spun the table round all of the balls would immediately shoot straight into the pockets.  Very life affirming.

Old Catton School was a sight for sore eyes when I arrived and I was doubly lucky that they were having a morning assembly before the school day began so I had a bit of spare time to get my stuff in and get changed into my frock.  We had a fine morning with a lovely group of children.  They were lively knowledgeable and fun to work with.  The afternoon joust was incredibly loud and threatened to blow out the windows of the hall.  It ended with much needed victory for the gents, who now cut the useful lead the ladies had.  Our score after the Old Catton show:

GENTLEMEN 6 - 8 LADIES

And so I was on my way, heading first of all to Essex for an evening with Amanda and my lovely James.  We had a fun evening watching a bit of Night at the Museum 2 and eating a very welcome curry.  But when they went to bed early it was time for me to hit the road again and head down to Maidstone and see my lovely Shelley again.  I had the Thursday at leisure and was taken for a nice shopping trip round Maidstone by Shelley before she bought me lunch at Mexxa Mexxa, a marvellous Mexican restaurant near the Haslitt Theatre.

Friday was Children in Need day - and I was a King in Need.  It was too early!  And I was driving on the M25 (ARGH!), heading for London (ARGH!) and a return visit to St Matthew's School in West Wimbledon (ARGH!.... no actually, hang on, this is a lovely school).  It was lovely to be back and I was very warmly welcomed by one and all, especially the lovely Katie Barnham who booked me there, or "Dear Madam Barnham" as I deliberately miss-spelt her after the XTC song.  It was a funny little group today, just 20 children and of them, only five boys.  They were quiet to begin with, but soon perked up and we had a great day all round.  The afternoon session, including the jousting was very exciting but due to the lack of boys at the school made scoring this tournament an impossibility.  As it was a mixed team of boys and girls raced to victory.  So no change in the overall score.

So it was back to Maidstone for a long weekend with Shelley, but it wasn't terribly restful as poor Sir Owen was a bit poorly and Shelley didn't get to sleep much.  But we had a nice time anyway.  It was back to Somerset and a couple of days visiting old friends, and to keep that whole simile going I am off to Southampton today to see old friends at Skandia Life for a bit of lunch.  This weekend is the Mistletoe Fayre at Barrington Court, so hopefully I should see you all there briefly.  The King will not be staying long!

Mistletoe Fayre 2011 pt 1

Good King Hal being an exemplary model of grown up behaviour for a couple of impressionable young fans. Don't worry though, their parents sorted him out in the car park later.

The Mistletoe Fayre was back at Barrington Court again! It must mean Christmas is a coming. To be honest if you believed what you see in the High Street and on TV, Christmas has been a coming since about June. I am amazed there aren't any Easter Eggs in the shops already. On the Friday evening I had been at Barrington Court again for the annual South Somerset National Trust Pub Quiz which I run each year. A good time was seemed to be had by all and there was not a hint of controversy this time around. My mate Matthew Applegate's team won last year prompting cries of foul and that I had been feeding Matthew the questions in our various visits to the local pubs. This year all that nonsense was banished from people's minds as Matthew's team limped home in last place.

So I was due to be up and early on the Saturday morning for the short trip to Barrington. I wanted to be there early as my friends Zarrina Bull and Diane Collings (who had appeared with me at Leeds Castle and Hever Castle during the summer) were going to come down for their first appearance at Barrington Court, and I wanted to welcome them on their arrival. However, I slept through my alarm and woke late. I got ready and shot over to Barrington stopping for a brief period at Merriott for petrol. WRONG. There were only two people ahead of me in the queue, both ladies, both pensioners. The first was purchasing a small bouquet of flowers - she didn't know the price. The lady behind the counter didn't know the price. Hell, even I didn't know what the fecking price was. Finally someone ventured outside to look at the prices on the flowers. Sorted. No. Now she wanted to know if they had any Daily Mail's left as there were none outside. This was taking forever. Finally they assured her that there were no Daily Mail's left and she herself vacated the counter. One person in front of me. She wasn't buying any fuel either, she was interested in the cheap and cheerful thermal socks the garage were selling, but she could only find one pair in her size. Thus a box had to be produced from out the back and the staff went through it slowly, looking for another pair of fecking socks in her fecking size. You could feel the arms on my watch spinning round like helicopter rotors as time roared on. I finally paid and was on my way. Hopefully Barrington wouldn't be too busy. ARGH! Wrong again. It was a massive heaving mass of National Trust members and their cars. I simply had nowhere to park and finally resorted in just abandoning my car on the grass verge where the avenue of chestnut trees used to be. Not very environmental or proper, but I had to put the car somewhere, I couldn't just eat it. Hopefully my tardy arrival would not be noticed. As I walked in through the front door, one of the stall holders called out "'Ere, Henry! Your two wives are looking for you!" Which kind of let me know that Zarrina and Diane were here already.

Yes, indeed they were and they looked stunning in their new costumes - Zarrina in a home made purple dress which looked stunning, and Diane in a Tudor dress she had purchased from Ebay but had massively altered herself to get it into shape. We had a lovely time wandering the halls and rooms of Barrington and the ladies really seemed to enjoy themselves. They certainly added some fun and laughter to the day. We had a pile of photos taken, some of which I shall place on this blog when I get them. I have never seen the Mistletoe Fayre as busy as it was this year, so long may that flourish. It was a fun, tiring day all round and a delight to work with Zarrina and Diane again. Tomorrow won't be the same without them. We finished about 4pm and I was glad to be home, but I am looking forward to part two tomorrow. And Rachel Brewer's mulled cider was STUNNING!

More Mistletoe Fayre Funne...

Meanwhile, in an all night gas-lit pecan-nut crushing emporium on Streatham High Road, octogenarian Algerian wash board wrangler, Attila Corn-Plaster, heir to the fortune of Barbara Cartland's cartographer and first solo pianist to plummet off Niagara Falls and not live, has discovered the Nazi blue prints to Ethel Merman's diving bell fixated Persian cat-tweaking mobile laundry service on an S2 bus calling at Rokeby Street, West Ham Lane, Whalebone Lane and the Portway. A cold front has swept in from the arctic bringing war, death, pestilence and famine to western Yeovil. Police describe the situation as normal for a Sunday. And now here's Carole Kirkwood with the weather. Carole?

The second day of the annual Barrington Court Mistletoe Fayre dawned colder than yesterday, but there was certainly less snow around. As I arrived this morning it was very pleasing today to see that the car park was full to bursting, this meant we were due more people than the slightly disappointing turn out we had on Saturday. I was right, but it also meant that I had trouble finding somewhere to park. Luckily I ran into Matthew Applegate (not literally of course) and he allowed me to park in the private spaces tucked away around the back of Barrington Court and for use by the people who live in the apartments in Strode House.

It was a great turn out today, and some very nice stalls. I myself purchased some wonderful home cured smoked bacon and some pork and leek sausages. Lovely! I also got to meet some wonderful people all of whom seemed to be in very high spirits - apart from one. There was a heavily bearded man walking around pushing a lady in a wheel chair, who I assumed to be his mother. I chatted to the lady in the wheel chair, who had a face like a smacked arse, and then after speaking to the man with the beard I realised why she was so miserable. The first thing this Rasputin look-a-like said to me was "I heard a programme about you on Radio 4 the other night..." This made me nervous straight away as I find Radio 4 something of an enigma. I call it Radio Smug as it seems to have this air of being a closed club that only some people are allowed into. And I intend to stay that way until Kirsty Young allows me to be on "Desert Island Discs". Anyway, I am getting off the point. The Rasputin look-a-like continued and said "It was all about the disgraceful way you treated Catherine of Aragon." Before I could get a chance to say anything, he went up a gear. "You were a MONSTER to that poor girl. A MONSTER!" Foam was beginning to form around the sides of his mouth. At this point I tried to point out to him that I was in fact an actor (obviously a bloody good one to get this sort of reaction), but he carried on chuntering away before wheeling his long suffering facially downcast mother into another room. Thank God that was over. About an hour later I bumped into him again, this time on his own. On each day of the Fayre we had a Mummer's play which was performed in one of the upstairs rooms. Rasputin wanted to know if there was access to the upstairs of Barrington Court for disabled people. I told him there was only a lift in Strode House and therefore not any real possibility of getting his joy-free Mother and her wheel chair up to see the show. He simply hissed the word "pathetic..." and stomped off towards the toilets, preferably to fall into a blocked urinal and choke to death on a bleach cake. And would serve him right. But this miserable git aside, everything was good today. And so was the cricket.

Next week I am back to Nelson Junior School in East Ham for my 4th visit! Should be a good one. South East, here I come.

Three Days...

"Look at the size of that dibber!" exclaimed Good King Hal. He was immediately arrested.

This was a busy few days for me. It began on Thursday morning when I was due back on Emma Britton's Show on BBC Somerset. I had been due on a couple of weeks back, but there was a change of plan at the last minute and I was postponed for two weeks. I found myself for the first time in a long time being stuck in seriously bad Taunton traffic and actually arrived at the studio about ten minutes late. I was on the panel with Kate from the company Travels on Horseback (www.travelsonhorseback.com), a lovely lady who I had appeared on Emma's programme with before. We had a great discussion and it was also fantastic to know that my Aussie friend from Facebook, Jennie Towan, was listening on the other side of the world - and gloating about the Test Match. (It's only the first test, Jen!)

On the Friday I was off down to Exeter for a return visit to the Maynard School. As like last year they wanted the day to run from 10.30am to 4pm, which was fine by me. I left home giving myself plenty of time to get there - only to first come across a big smash on the A30 on Windwhistle Hill. This held me up for about 20 minutes, then when I finally got to Exeter I found the place virtually gridlocked with Christmas shoppers. I finally arrived at The Maynard approximately 10 minutes before I am due to appear at the start of my show. But as ever at this lovely school, I was warmly welcomed, especially by the lovely Keagh Fry, and was soon changed and ready. As ever it was a small group, 14 ladies this year, but they were very responsive, full of laughs and again in superb costumes. After the morning session, Keagh and I have a very nice lunch (Fish and chips!) and then it's back to the hall for more nonsense. Of course with it being an all girl's school I can't allow the jousting result to go into our year long score, but as you can guess, the ladies won!

Now instead of heading for home, I was now heading off to Dartmoor and an evening with my cousins, Mike and Janet Baker at their lovely home in Manaton. I had last visited them about 15 years ago with my late Grandfather, and had driven down there in bright summer sunshine and daylight. I was now fighting my way out of a yet again gridlocked Exeter, it is pitch dark and it is starting to snow. My sat nav seems to not have even the slightest idea where we are going. So instead of the sensible way of getting to Manaton (down the A38 and then turn off at Bovey Tracy) I now find myself on some tiny unlit track, with snow thick in the fields around me, somewhere near Mortonhampstead. And this seems to go on interminably. Added to which there seems to be absolutely no road signs whatsoever. After what seems like a lifetime of pitch dark single track lanes, with more and more snow falling, suddenly I see a tiny road sign that says "Manaton". Thank God for that! I slithered down this road and find myself by the church in Manaton which I remember parking up by the last time I had visited Mike and Janet all those years ago. But all is still pitch dark and snowy and there is no sign of their house. I finally slide down another hill and see some lights in the darkness, and there is Mike leaning against his front gate smoking one of his roll up cigarettes. As I climb from the car, I am sorely tempted to fall to my knees and kiss the ground, a la Pope John Paul II. I was warmly welcomed into their nice snug home, in which they have just had installed a brand new wood burning stove, which was so nice to sit around. Janet cooked a lovely meal, we drank too much wine and Mike let me have four trenchers (Tudor wooden plates) that he had specially made for me. I stayed overnight and after a nice breakfast I was soon on my way back to Somerset.

There was a fair bit of snow about on the hills of the Dartmoor, but not as much as I expected, but I thought it would thin out as I got closer to home. WRONG! By the time I got to Chard there was thick snow all around. Well, what other type of snow would you expect in Chard? I stopped off at home for a quick sit down and a cough (as Tony Hancock nearly said), I was off and out the door again for another run around at Barrington Court for their annual Mistletoe Fayre. As usual there were the fabulous selection of stalls and vendors of fine foods, drinks and wonderful crafts. It was good to see the Blackdown Babes selling group again, but there was slightly less people around this year than in previous times. This was mostly due to the weather most people assumed, so we are hoping for a better turn out tomorrow. Matthew seemed in good form, but I didn't see much of him.

All this and we are still being hammered by the Aussies in the first test. SIGH. Some things never change...

Barrington Court Mistletoe Fayre 2009

Good King Hal today broke the World Record for clutching a piece of Mistletoe and NOT getting a kiss. His time of 4 years, 5 months, 16 days, 5 hours, 23 minutes and 6 seconds broke the previous record, also held by GKH by approximately 6 seconds.

Is it really a whole year since the last Mistletoe Fayre? Apparently it was. My parents had come down from their lovely new house in Wales to come and visit and over the previous days we had been up to Wells and then onto the Clarke's Shopping Village in Street, but now the weekend was here it was time for me to do my Tudor thing again. Mum and Dad came along on the first day, had a look round the stalls and then promptly disappeared off for a pub lunch. It was a slightly smaller selection of stalls than last year, but it was good to see the Blackdown Babes back in force and also the lovely Rachel Brewer, Barrington's very own "Pommellier". The first day was definitely the busiest, lots of hustle and bustle, plenty of people to meet and greet, and quite a few to pose for photos for. On both days the weather was pretty grim, but it really was unpleasant on the Sunday and I think this definitely affected the turn out, which was way down on the Saturday. Both days a Mummer's Play was performed by the Winsham Players, we were treated to more musicians on the Sunday which was very nice, and late on the Sunday afternoon I had the pleasure of meeting and talking to Trevor Peacock, famous for playing Jim in "The Vicar of Dibley" on BBC TV. He was a charming gentleman and we had a very pleasant chat for a few minutes before he was on his way.

My parents have now gone over to Kent to stay with my sister Cathy for a few days, I am back from the Fayre, tired but happy, and tomorrow morning, will I be off at the crack of dawn to Cheltenham for a return visit to Dean Close Prep? As Jim from "The Vicar of Dibley" would put it - no, no, no, no, no, no, no, YES.

The Fayre was another resounding success and once more proved what a great organiser and all round top gent Matthew Applegate is. As stated previously, the finest, most underrated, over worked, brilliant employee in SW England that the National Trust possess.

Dunster First School

Anne of Cleeves makeover was not a roaring success.

Dunster is a lovely, lovely school in a beautiful idyllic Somerset village. It really is one of my favourite places to visit. The school is wonderful, the children almost universally delightful, the teachers friendly and the head teacher is a wonderful man, even if he does support Arsenal Football Club. Still, no one's perfect.

The morning drive was largely uneventful but through some lovely countryside. I arrived in Dunster to hear the sound of the church bell tolling gently. I parked up behind the school and was welcomed by the caretaker, who was busy caring his take. We had a fine morning but without Nicola Gray my usual teaching companion here. She was off having a 20 week scan on her pregnancy, so I guess she had a good excuse! Instead there was a lovely supply teacher called Jo and we got on famously. There were laughs and jokes aplenty, lots of great Tudor knowledge and even a little boy who appeared to have been named after a dog in a cartoon (I won't say which one, in case I get in trouble with his parents). I had a lovely roast turkey lunch with the head teacher and was soon back in the hall for a rousing afternoon of more Tudor mayhem. The jousting was a close even contest but finally, a good very competent gents team ran out the winners. This now makes the score:

GENTLEMEN 7 - 12 LADIES

I have my parents staying with me for a few days and then this weekend it is the wonderful Misteltoe Fayre at Barrington Court run with brilliance as ever by the hugely underrated, underpaid and undervalued Matthew Applegate, the finest visitors services manager in the South West.