St Michael's, Twerton, plus Medieval Midsummer Merriments!

Thursday. Ill. Very ill. No, not just "man flu" but seriously snotty, hot, achy and not feeling good at all. I took me to my bed and lay there groaning. The phone rang. "Yes" I croaked, in a voice more in keeping with someone having their last rites read. "Mike, where are you?" Oh dear, this could be embarrassing. Had I forgotten a school? No I hadn't, but I had forgotten a meeting I had booked with Tricia, a nice lady down in Abbotsbury for their forthcoming Medieval Midsummer Merriment as it is called. I made abject apologies and then sneezed all over the receiver just to prove to her how ill I really was. She believed me and we re-booked the meeting for this Saturday. I went back to bed and awaited a cure or death, whichever was quicker.

I woke up early on the Friday, delighted to find that I was feeling a lot better - still not brilliant, but the temperature had dropped and I was only mildly snotty. This was a vast improvement and meant I was ready to drive up to Twerton and a return visit to St Michael's School there. I had only recently visited this lovely school back in July, but it was good to be back. Just as before, they were a relatively small group, but what they lacked in size they more than made up for in noise. They were at times deafening, never more so than during the afternoon jousting. I felt really lousy by lunchtime, but plodded on with the show, feeling that I wasn't doing myself or the school justice, but the teachers said they were delighted and the children certainly made it clear that they had enjoyed themselves. The ladies stormed to a famous victory in the jousting and at the end of everything else I sold some souvenir Henry VIIIth coins we had minted with our new coin dye. One little boy bought NINE of them! NINE! I was due to go over and see Ali and Ian in Kingstone in the evening for a curry night, but it was sadly postponed at the last minute, so instead I sat in and had a Chinese takeaway.

This morning I drove down to Abbotsbury for my meeting with Tricia about the Medieval Midsummer Merriment. The meeting went well and their plans look fabulous. In the beautiful shimmering sunlight we walked down to the Tithe Barn where the event will be held and it just looked so beautiful. You looked at the green rolling hills speckled with white patches of distant sheep, the clear azure blue sky, the warm yellow sunshine and the rich warm colours of the old stone buildings and you began to wonder if there really was anywhere else in the world as beautiful as England on a spring day like today. With the nunnery on the hill and the rippled landscape scattered with ancient marks that man has made over the centuries you suddenly felt immersed in history. I can't wait for the show in June!

Next I headed up to Barrington Court for a quick meeting with Matthew Applegate about possibly doing some education shows at the Court beginning next January and February. Should be good!

And now, settle me down and watch Wales v Ireland in the Rugby!

Drayton Junior, Norfolk

After my recent visit to Norfolk, what do I need right now? That's right! Another visit to Norfolk! This was another of those re-organised visits from when we were all snowed in. Drayton is a fabulous school and one that I have visited on a number of occasions, so it was a delight to be back there again. Now, you know you are getting old when the head teachers and deputy heads all look like they have just come from a Ralph Reader Gang Show. The Deputy Head at Drayton looks about 12 years old, but he is a jolly nice chap and very welcoming. He has also come fresh foot from seeing Norwich beat Plymouth over the weekend, so he is also a very happy chap as well as jolly.

We had a great day, as usual at Drayton! The kids were fantastic and the teachers were brilliant. The day just seemed to shoot past at an incredible rate. Lunch was perplexing. I would call them meat balls, but they weren't round. They were more like meat hockey pucks. And what meat were they? I ate one. It was chicken, surely. No, perhaps not. It could be turkey. Hang on. No it's chicken. Or is it. No, tell a lie, it IS turkey. Actually come to think of it I reckon it's a combination of turkey and chicken. Turned out it was pork. I just pray that my Rabbi never finds out.

The afternoon joust was fantastic! The ladies built up a massive lead but the chaps started chipping away at the lead and getting closer and closer, but the ladies JUST held on for a famous victory. Drayton as ever was a fabulous school, welcoming, friendly, happy and a pleasure to visit. I can't wait to see them all again next year.

Norfolk In Chance

I had been due for several days in Norfolk back in February, but the weather decided that snow, more snow and even more snow was the order of the day and any chance of driving across country to visit the said schools was about as likely to happen as me winning the 100 metres at the next Olympics. So while I sat steaming and trapped in the far west of England and Wales, the schools had to miss out on their Henry VIIIth days. But we managed to rearrange the dates and here I was now on my way to complete my obligations.

First visit of the two days was at Falcon Junior School in Sprouston, Norwich. This is a lovely school with some very groovy children and lovely teachers. Their hall is a beautiful place to work and has a really nice timeline painted round the walls for the children to look at. We had a great day, lots of fun and some fantastic costumes some of the children were wearing. The teachers and classroom assistants were also well togged out, particularly one of the male teachers whose voluminous pantaloons gave him more than a passing resemblance to MC Hammer. The afternoon was a fun raucous event with a fine jousting tournament in which a good gents outfit just edged out the ladies. It is such a fun school to visit every year, I can't wait to go back and see them all again.

Now instead of my usual long trawl back to either Essex or, even worse, Somerset, all I had in front of me now was a 10 miles drive to Acle and my digs for the night. I was staying at the King's Head Inn and I have to say that my first impressions weren't good. The bar seemed to be hosting a Barfly's Convention with much drunken hubbub and a slurred words between rather flakey looking middle aged men and women. However, after checking in and going upstairs to my small but comfortable room, I came back down to find the bar cleared. I was served a very nice pint of Adnams Bitter (It would have to be at £3 a pint - oh for the days when we served Adnams Bitter in The Hoop in Stock at 90p a pint...) and then perused their very good looking menu. I ordered King Prawns in garlic butter to begin and then chicken breast wrapped in smoked bacon and served on a bed of wild mushroom sauce for the main course. The King Prawns were a huge disappointment. They arrived looking massive and impressive but had been over cooked to the point of virtual disintegration. The chicken was a massive saving grace and was delicious and well cooked. After dinner I moved into the second bar where a massive screen was showing the Manchester United v Inter Milan Champions League match. Naturally, being in Norfolk I was surrounded by Manchester United fans, but they were mostly aged about 12, drunk and not over blessed with brain cells, so it was nice fun to wind them up a little. I lost interest by half time as United were walking the match, and so I retired to bed. Breakfast in the morning was a huge and impressive affair and I left fortified and with arteries hardening by the second.

My second school of the two days was another return visit, and this was to Caister Junior in Caister by Sea. This is another wonderful school that is always a delight to visit. We had another great fun day with a really nice friendly group of children. The costumes for the group were fantastic, the children fun, the teachers charming and the whole day was brilliant. The final joust was terrific fun and close as close can be, but once again the gents team strolled to a good victory. Schools like Falcon and Caister should be cherished for the good work that they do and for the fine children they produce. As endorsed by Henry VIIIth!

I drove home for a weekend in Essex with my family which is going to be nice. I am back in Norfolk again on Monday for another return visit, this time to Drayton School in Norwich, then it will be back to Somerset.

St Michael's School, Wimborne

There comes a point, when you are running a marathon, when you, metaphorically speaking, hit a wall. It usually happens at around the 20 mile mark and leaves the runner exhausted, cramped and with the feeling that he is running through thick treacle, uphill and carrying a big bag or two of shopping. I have a feeling I hit the Henry wall yesterday. It has all been going so well lately, every show has been a winner and I have just sailed through. Yesterday was a fifth return visit to St Michael's School in Wimborne, Dorset and it has always been a favourite of mine to visit, so I was really looking forward to it. So I arrived, set up, got changed, the children came in...and I seemed to hit the wall. I kept fluffing my lines, nothing quite timed and the children seemed very quiet and subdued. It was a such a shame! They had all dressed up in some magnificent Tudor costumes and seemed genuinely enthusiastic, but I really struggled during the morning session. After a nice lunch of chilli con carne I felt I perked up a little and the afternoon seemed much easier. The jousting was great and was won by a superb gents team, two of whom could quite easily have been professional jousters! It was a nice visit to a lovely school and I would love to have been a bit more on the money for the show. The teachers were as kind and friendly as ever. Next year I promise to be better...

After a restfull evening I am now preparing paper work and packing a suitcase as for the next ten days I am up in Essex and Norfolk for a series of shows. Speak to you soon.

Friends and Fire Pits.

How nice it is to visit old friends! This weekend, I have been to Crawley in West Sussex to visit my old friends Viv and John Rich. The main reason for this was that John had built a fire pit in their back garden - a sort of permanent larger chimnea. They had invited many friends, cooked some wonderful food and laid on lots of nice drinks to celebrate this opening of all John's handiwork. And they asked me, as Henry to come along and open the said pit. It was a pleasure, as you can see from the picture above. The mug I am holding has a nice Henry VIIIth logo on it! My lovely sisters Sue and Cathy were there as well, so was Cathy's husband Julian, plus many other guests including John's delightful sister Ann. A really good time was had by all and, despite the early date of the year, we sat outside round the fire pit, nice snug and warm until about 9.30pm. We then sat indoors yarning, laughing and occasionally snoring until about 12.30am. Wonderful.

It has been a pleasure to be surrounded this weekend with such good friends and company. Sometimes you should appreciate this part of your life more often.

Tomorrow I am off to Wimborne in Dorset for a fifth return visit to St Michael's School in Colehill.

BBC Somerset Have Your Say!

Taunton - again! Back on the old A358, there must be a song title in there somewhere. I had been invited back to appear on BBC Somerset with Emma Britton on her morning show, the opening part of the show being called "Have Your Say". It is still much like the format of the old show with Jo Phillips, only now they only have two panel members per session and there is much more participation from listeners phoning in and joining in the discussion. My fellow panel member today was a lovely lady from Bridgwater Amateur Operatic Society who is putting on a production of "Hello Dolly" in the near future. She was terribly enthusiastic and good fun to be with. I hope I was too!

The general topic today was are we more inclined towards closer ties with America or with Europe, which as you can expect we got nowhere near to solving. But it was good to hear other people's opinions on the subject. After I had finished at the radio station I drove over to Street and treated myself to some new clothes and stopped off briefly in Somerton where I treated myself even more with some lovely fish and chips!

I have done little else for the rest of the day aside from convince myself that I need to do a load of tidying up before my sister Susan arrives on Friday. Yes. I really must. Tomorrow probably.

Trull again!

For five years I have been coming to Trull school, but I had never been in quite like this before! My new Sat Nav, still smarting from being out manoeuvred by the elderly Doris yesterday (see previous blog entry), decided to get it's own back on me today. The easiest and most straightforward way to get to Trull is go right through the middle of Taunton and turn off just before you get to the turn off for Musgrove Park Hospital - keep going then turn off to your left and there you find the lovely village of Trull in all it's quaintness. But not today, oh no. My sat nav started squawking about turning off and going another way - I was early and thought what the heck, let's give it a try. It ended up being like a Somerset countryside version of the Paris-Dakkar rally. I went down some of the smallest roads you have ever seen and nearly got wiped out by two insane farmers in their 4x4's. But it did make me appreciate even more than before just how lovely Trull is as a village, and what a fantastic school it is as well.

I was warmly greeted but then had to sit around for three quarters of an hour as their was a school assembly, this eventually finished and we were off and running. It was nice to hear so much enthusiasm and knowledge from the children as the day progressed. They knew a lot of good Tudor stuff! After a first class morning of fun and frolics, I popped up to the little shop in Trull village for some lunch. The choice of food was far superior to yesterday, but then a UNICEF feeding station probably has a better choice of fast foods than yesterday. So I got a nice looking sandwich, a bottle of drink and a pepperami - all going well so far. Would I like a bag to put this all in? Not 'arf! The nice lady in the shop gets out a second hand plastic bag and stuffs my grub in it and hands it over - only for me to discover that the previous contents of the bag seem to have been most world stocks of moth balls. So I got back to the school and moth balls, and ate my chicken sandwich with moth balls, nibbled a pepperami with moth balls and swigged a few mouth fulls of Pepsi Max - now with added moth balls. All that and not a Rock Hyrax in sight.

The afternoon was insane, loads of pictures were taken and a very tightly contested joust was won by the ladies with a quoit or two to spare (and some moth balls).

I drove home in the howling wind and rain and by now, just after eight o'clock, I am ready for bed already. Poor old devil. Tomorrow I am back on BBC Somerset with the lovely Emma Britton on the morning show. Please listen in!

Stawley School, Back of Beyond

Today's subject is geography. Question one: How do you find Stawley School near Wellington? Well, for a start, don't go to the village of Stawley, because it isn't there. Go to a tiny pimple on the map called rather cutely Appley Cross. Question two: How do you find Appley Cross? Not with my Sat Nav that's for sure. I plumbed in the post code of the school, usually more than adequate for my Sat Nav. It just looked at me and went "and....?" It had never heard of it. So I tried typing in Appley Cross. It hadn't heard of that either. Similarly it hadn't heard of Stawley, all points south of Wellington and Rock Hyraxes. In the words of Spike Milligan: What are we going to do now? Drastic measures were needed. This was a job for Doris. Doris is my semi retired and semi knackered old Sat Nav from my previous cars. She only works on batteries now and doesn't last very long when she does. I plugged her in and put in the post code -she found it straight away!

Appley Cross is as sweet and dinky as the name suggests. Stawley School is microscopic - blink and you would miss it, even if you were walking past with both legs in plaster and carrying some phenomenally heavy shopping. However, I was very warmly welcomed. It turned out the day was being shared between two schools, Stawley and Stampford from just up the road - but this still only gave us a grand total of about 30 students. But it was a great day despite the cramped conditions (no school hall so that whole day had to be done in the largest class room in the school). After a fun and frantic morning I wandered to the teeny tiny shop perched by the school gate to get some lunch. Did they have sandwiches? No. Did they have pies or pasties? No. Any cold meat and rolls? No. This was a time to improvise. Therefore my lunch ended up being two bananas, a can of Diet Coke, a packet of Kettle chips and a Twix. I am wasting away now - down to my final few hundred tons.

The afternoon joust was very different. As there was not enough room for two teams to joust at once, we had one team jousting at a time, while being timed on a stop watch. It made for some interesting results. In the main final the ladies went first and clocked a time of 1 minute and 4 seconds. The gents then went and clocked a time of 1 minute and 7 seconds! The ladies triumphed. We then had a teacher's race which saw a teacher's group romp home in just 54 seconds - surely a world record!

I got home and flaked out for the evening. For the following day I was due back at Trull.

Back at Barrington Court

On last Wednesday evening, shortly after buying Matthew Applegate another pint of beer, in a frenzy of bonhomie and beer froth, I offered to come along to Barrington Court the following Saturday for their re-opening day after the winter closure. I would do them a Henry VIIIth walkabout for free as I am such a wonderfully charitable little chap. Saturday dawned nice and bright, and after an early morning trip over to Yeovil to do such boring things as going to the bank, I was on my way to the finest Tudor house in South Somerset for their grand re-opening. I was really looking forward to it.

I got changed and was soon out and about. But where the hell was everyone? It was like a scene from "28 Days Later" to begin with - there was just no one about. But I soon encountered some brave intrepid people who had come to Barrington Court for the day. We had some fun, but despite the weather being so kind, you had to remember it was still only February and there just wasn't going to be masses of people coming in. By 3pm I was flagging and after a quick chat with Matthew I was soon on my way home. I watched the end of the Scotland v Italy rugby match, and then also watched the Ireland v England match. But I had been invited back to Barrington Court for the evening for a soiree celebrating the re-opening. Matthew had intimated that it might not be that much of a success as a bash, but I ventured over there anyway in the hope that something might occur. I was so glad I went. It was a belting evening! It began with Rachel Flynn, Matthew's assistant setting up her Wii console, and various games of Mario Cart, bowling and tennis were played, which became more raucous as the drinks intake level became higher. Then some music was put on and lots of silly dancing and laughing ensued, (see picture above as proof!) none more so than when Matthew Applegate, buoyed by approximately 300 gallons of Barrington cider decided it was time to show us how he could strut his stuff to Fatboy Slim's beautiful ballad that goes "I see you babe, shakin' that ass!" I was crying with laughter as he shuffled about the stage with his bottom sticking out at an acute angle, when it suddenly occurred to me that his dancing prowess showed an amazing likeness to the movements of Mr Jay Kay, aka Jamiroquai. I swear I nearly fell off my chair I laughed so much. The rest of the evening passed in a similar fashion with much merriment, and as I was only drinking orange juice it goes to prove you don't need to be three sheets to the wind to have a good time. But it would appear you do need to be completely shedded to dance like Jamiroquai. Matthew only needed the big furry hat and the likeness would have been complete.

I got home late. What a fantastic evening!

Blackbrook School, Taunton

You wait for about two years for a new school in Taunton to book you, and then two turn up in the same week! After the fun and games of going to North Town School on Wednesday, here I was on Friday off to Blackbrook School. It was a bigger group today - about 140 children and they were very, very excited about Henry's visit!

It was a tremendously fun start to the day with the opening talk going down a storm, but I had to break at 10am as they were having an assembly in the hall and then the kids had a morning break, so I wasn't on again until nearly 11am. But we got through it. After a lunch of what were either perfectly adequate chicken fingers, or hugely over-cooked fish fingers (you could have wiped a chalk board clean with them!), it was on to the afternoon session. There was a great reply when I was getting the stocks session set up. I always tell the children that being drunk and disorderly could land you up in the stocks, but it was particularly frowned upon if you did it on a Sunday - I then ask them why it was so bad to be drunk and disorderly on a Sunday. The best answer I ever had was from a school boy in Essex who told me it was bad because all the football was on Sky on Sunday's and you'd miss it. But today's answer was: It was bad to be drunk and disorderly on a Sunday because the pubs weren't open long enough. So that told me!

We finished with a deafening jousting tournament that a very good gents side walked away with. I was just winding the show down and getting ready to leave when a load of the staff from the school came in with a birthday cake for me, complete with candles and a rousing singing of "Happy Birthday" for me! I was really touched!

I got home this evening with fine intentions of wandering over to the Duke of York pub in Shepton Beauchamp to watch the France v Wales rugby match on their big screen. But I have to admit that my bottom hit my chair in my front room and it was just too damn comfortable to get up and go out again. Sorry.

Tomorrow I am back at Barrington Court for their opening weekend of the season. I will be on parade between 12 noon and 4pm. I hope to see some of you there!

North Town School, Taunton

Up with the lark and down with the lurghi. Well, a grotty snotty cold anyway. Just what I needed on a visit to a new school today. It has been a while since I visited a brand new school in Taunton and here I was up and on my way to North Town School, a place I had never visited before. And I nearly didn't visit it today either - I couldn't find a way in! I found the school very easily, but it's main entrance according to it's address and my sat nav was a tiny gate in a fence with not a prayer of getting a car in. There must be a rear entrance I thought. There was. It was a tiny wee gate in a fence as well. Just as I was contemplating tunnelling in, I saw someone drive into a car park on the site - so there must be a way in somewhere. I found one other small road I hadn't tried and went up there. It got narrower and narrower, and just when I was having doubts I would ever get out again, there it was! The legendary rear entrance of North Town School - God be praised! I was greeted by the caretaker at first (not an "ooh-arr!" in sight - see Wiveliscombe!) who was great. He pointed to where I had parked.

"That your car?" He asked. I told him it was. "That's the Head's parking spot. She gets the right hump if you park there. She'll probably behead you..." So that told me! I hastily moved the car. Viv, the lady I was due to see at North Town was off sick, so I was introduced to Mary, a supply teacher looking after her class. She was lovely, but then so were all the staff. Kirsty, the other class teacher in Year 4, was also poorly, but was in. However she did have to nip off to the Doctors during the morning, poor thing. There was also a particularly delightful Irish lady from Donegal as one of the class room assistants - she was gorgeous! Unfortunately I chopped her head off in the Anne Boleyn section of my talk, but she was looking much better in the afternoon. My lunch was a bit of a curate's egg - good in places. A very nice stew to begin, but a large chocolate cookie for afters that tasted like it was made out of reconditioned asbestos.

The children were great, particularly my mate Harvey who laughed so much he nearly wet himself in the afternoon session! The jousting was deafening and won by a very fine ladies team. The teachers and the class room assistants all came up to me at the end and said their faces were hurting from laughing so much. It was lovely that they had enjoyed it so much! Thank you, North Town - a truly outstanding school!

Tomorrow is my birthday! So to celebrate I am going out for a drink with Matthew Applegate this evening. Lovely!

Coalway Junior, Coleford, Gloucestershire

Here is a new look at the picture a nice chap called Roger Harris of www.colourpencils.co.uk is doing of me. He took a series of photos of me at Dillington House last August and this is his handiwork so far. All done with colour pencils! Amazing.

Today I was back at an old favourite - Coalway Junior in Coleford in Gloucestershire. This was my fifth visit to this lovely school and it just seems to get better each year. I was warmly welcomed and given a cup of tea. I soon got all the props in but then found my car was stuck on the children's playground as the only route off it was blocked by a car belonging to someone unknown! By the time I had found them and got the car moved the children were already seated in the hall - and I wasn't in my Henry gear. I rushed around in a very passable impression of a fly suffering with a blue tinge to it's derriere and we were off. It was just a fantastic day. The kids were wonderful, the teachers delightful and all in all a day you could not complain about. The afternoon was a riot, particularly helped by a wonderful little lad I picked out to be my punished beggar as he was completely deadpan all the way through. He was hilarious. The final joust was also good with the gents just pipping the ladies to the win. I was then heaped with praise by the teachers for my work which was very humbling and gratifying, and then I was on my way back home. I will now settle down and cheer on Inter Milan against Man Utd. Mind you, if Man Utd were playing the Taliban I would be cheering on the loonies in the big beards.

Tomorrow I am at North Town School in Taunton.

The Big Dig, Leeds Castle

The scene: Darlene's Drift, a small partially defended medieval tourist attraction in Kent. A large tent has been erected near the aviary. Inside are hiding a handful of brave events staff from Leeds Castle, some archaeologists and a large Henry VIIIth look-a-like who for some reason is now pretending to be an archaeologist himself. Enter a blood stained sentry.

Sentry: The lookouts have just got back from the car park and they report...

Lt Darlene Chard: (Stanley Baker - for tis he) What do they report?

Sentry: They report - kids, Sir. Farsands of 'em.

Lt Darlene: Gad!

Sentry: Some of 'em armed wiv spades...

Lt Darlene: Do you know what this means?

Lt Helen Bromhead: (Michael Caine, for tis he) You're off somewhere, aren't you...

Lt Darlene: Caribbean Cruise here I come!

Lt Helen: Don't shoot till you see the whites of their eyes!

Rev Jean Beaton: (Jack Hawkins, for tis he) What if they keep their eyes shut?

Archaeologist Mike Farley: (Ulla Jacobson, for tis she) They might win.

You get the idea. It was such a brilliantly simple idea to get children interested in archaeology. You get a big marquee, you pop in some large sandpits, you fill them with sand and pop in various shards of Roman Pottery from a local dig and let the children excavate them. They then present their finds to local professional archaeologists who help them clean the items and then date them. Also on hand are some metal detector dudes who take the children and their parents out into the fields locally and show them how they make their discoveries. The response from the public was overwhelming. After a fairly placid start to the week on Saturday and Sunday, all hell broke loose on Monday and Tuesday. On the Tuesday we had nearly 3,200 people into the Castle and grounds. It truly was like a scene from Zulu. The children would clear out one of the sandpits and we'd go about re stocking it with pottery for them to find and they would be poised around us, clutching trowels to their sweaty palms, shoulders hunched over like vultures. As soon as we said go they'd leap in like Lions on a gazelle, sand flying in all directions.

It was great to be working back with Jean Beaton, Darlene Cavill, Lynn, Helen Budd and all the old familiar faces from so many other times at Leeds Castle. The archaeologists were from Kent and were headed up by Dr Paul Wilkinson, a lovely amiable chap and easy to talk to. The metal detectorists were nice as well, even if one or two were a little grumpy, but then so would you be spending half your time burying old coins and the other half digging them up for the children. Amanda and James came down and joined me on the second Saturday, and James now wants a metal detector for himself. He also took part in the falconry display show and once more showed his skill for a quick comic reply, even for a six year old. I'd asked Mark Brattle, the falconer, to pick James for the audience participation part of the show. He duly picked out James and did his usual questions, what's your name, how old are you, etc. He then asked James if he knew why he was in the display area. James replied "because you asked me", which duly brought the house down.

The biggest news of the week was when there was stirring from the detectorists that they had found something "big". One of them came down from scanning in the vineyard with a dirt covered jewelled ring in his hand. He reckoned it was "old", possibly Elizabethan. It was shown to all the other metal detectors who agreed it was old and interesting. So Paul Wilkinson had a look and reckoned it was old and interesting. So it was decided to spread the news of this amazing find and contact was made with the British Museum. They were very excited and dispatched someone immediately. A young lady arrived who studied the ring and was equally excited that it was old and interesting, and almost definitely Elizabethan. Everyone was really excited and proud of such a cool find. Everyone was slightly less excited and proud when it was pointed out by one of the groundsmen at the Castle that the ring was actually a reproduction for sale in the Castle shop for £1.80 and had probably been dropped in the vineyard by a customer a year or so back. Suddenly everyone agreed that we had never been fooled in the first place and no one ever thought it was really old.

It was a hectic but fun nine days and it was, as ever lovely to be back at Leeds Castle. I drove home on the Sunday evening and have had a lovely restful day today, getting over the rigours of the week just gone. Tomorrow I am in Coleford, Gloucestershire for a return to Coalway Junior again.

Richmond Avenue, Shoeburyness

And lo, he did waketh up and the snow it had gone - mostly. Whereas a few hours earlier it looked like a scene from Scott of the Antarctic, there had now been a fairly sizeable thaw. However, the A127 down into Southend and off to Shoeburyness was horrific. Stop start snarled up traffic. But I finally got to Richmond Avenue and it was worth the effort. I forgot just how much fun this school is. I was warmly greeted as ever by the lovely people there and we had a great day. As it was the last day before half term there was a bit of a wild atmosphere amongst the children, but in a nice way and they really got into the whole show.

After a great lunch (baked potato again!) it was into the hall for the mad afternoon. Great fun is had by all and a really good jousting tournament went right to the wire and, looking back over more than a week ago, I honestly can't remember who won! But whoever it was they were very good.

I went back to see my wife and son, and then headed off down the M25 to Kent and a stay at my sister's house near Sittingbourne in preparation for nine days at Leeds Castle and the Big Dig...

Wiveliscombe Junior

Another early start. I always seem to say that, but then I wasn't sure how long it would take me to get to Wiveliscombe. And how exactly do you pronounce it? WIV-L-ISS-COM? WIV-ELLIS-COM? WELLS-COM? I was confused. The drive down was quite nice as most of the snow in Somerset has now gone - or so I thought. As soon as you got down towards Wellington and the hills, everything was white again. It made the countryside look very attractive. After a rather tortuous back roads route in (thanks Sat Nav) I found the school, but there didn't appear to be a car park. Enter a caretaker. He said:

"Arrr, garve garner narg grarg enery wheeze spec tin oo." Well, there isn't much you can say when someone says that to you. So I smiled blankly at him. It turned out he was telling me he was the caretaker of the school and they were expecting me, which was nice. He then said:

"Arrr, darn arowd anlevt anlevtagan an arr b arrcarrparrr." Dirty boy! I slapped his face and blushed. It turned out he was trying to tell me where their car park was. I did as he told me and soon found their carrparrr, which was situated on a gentle slope at the side of the school - and was like a skating rink. I parked up in the corner and got the first of my props out. I slammed the boot of the car shut and watched in awe as my car slid four feet backwards on the icy surface.

"Arrr" said my little caretaker chum. "Oizz anoi arnlygott thuzeeer zaaaahnd" at which point he began flicking shovel loads of sand in a sort of random pattern around my car. Well, it seemed to keep him entertained.

Now the school itself - what can I say? Wonderful, for a start! Marvellous, for another! A really nice school, some lovely teachers, a wonderful caring head and some of the nicest kids you could ever want to meet. They were so well behaved! Polite, clever, interested and ready to laugh. You really would want every day to be like this! The morning seemed to shoot past and it was soon lunch time - a nice big jacket potato with baked beans and grated cheese, with a sausage on the side. Smashing. The afternoon was even more fun with so many laughs and moments of joy. The jousting was another rip-roaring affair with the gents once more storming to a memorable victory. Wiveliscombe - you were great. And how do you pronounce it? I asked the teachers and they said "Just call it Wivvy - everyone else does." So who was I to argue?

I got back to Crewkerne and began packing for my week away. I am due to be in Shoeburyness tomorrow (Friday) and then I start down at Leeds Castle for "The Big Dig" on Saturday. I began my drive up to Essex and everything went swimmingly until I got on the M25 at which point it began to snow again. And, boy did it snow. By the time I got to the A13 it was blizzard time again and it took me a lifetime to get to Basildon and my wife's place. By now I am sitting in her front room typing this up and looking out the window to a bleak winter scene. Thick snow everywhere. I have my doubts as to whether Richmond Avenue School in Shoeburyness will be open tomorrow. Watch this space for more. Or as they say in Wivvy - Arrr, wodge thusarrr spayzfur morrrrrrr.

Oakfield Primary, Totton

Skandia Life! Skandia Life! I was just testing to see whether Paul Stewart's filter is working properly in his office. I used to drive this way every day to Skandia and back. I did it for just short of five years. I must have been mad. Today was an afternoon down at Oakfield Primary School in Totton on the western edge of Southampton. I arrived and was warmly welcomed by all the teachers, some of whom had dressed in some fantastic outfits. They had set up the main hall for a banquet and the children tucked into their food while I did my "Six Wives..." turn for them. After a quick break, the children then did a fine Tudor dance for me, after which we had a rousing jousting tournament. Some fine skills were on show, but it was the gents who galloped away in the main final to win. It was a lovely school and some of the children's costumes were brilliant.

I drove home and got back feeling extremely tired, when I suddenly remembered I had agreed to go over to Barrington to see their village pantomime this evening. It was mainly as my mate Matthew Applegate's wife Sue was starring as Dick Whittington in the pantomime of the same name. I arrived to find the car park at the village hall packed out. I went inside and was soon joined by Rachel, Matthew's assistant at Barrington Court. It turned out Matthew wasn't appearing that evening as he had to baby sit his youngest. The play was great rollicking fun. Amateur in the extreme, fluffed lines, late cues, curtains closing at the wrong time, props not working and some wooden acting - and all the better for it. I loved it. I laughed myself hoarse. Sue Applegate was marvellous as she could sing, dance and act, plus she has a damn fine pair of legs on her and looked very nice in fishnets - well, better than Matthew looks anyway. As with all parochial events like this they had the inevitable raffle with a couple of nice looking bottles of wine and other prizes, so I bought a few tickets. And guess what I won??? Yup, you got it - a Doris Day CD. I was thrilled.

Wiveliscombe tomorrow!

The Park School, Yeovil

After last weeks snow and ice I was looking forward to a week of getting back to work. And then there was last night's TV weather forecast. I knew it was going to be bad as the girl put on a black cap first and had a vulture perched on her shoulder. It was a forecast of biblical proportions - snow, gales, thunder, lightning, flooding, luddites, witchcraft and the Four Horseman of the Apocalypse "getting medieval" in Taunton. A typical Monday evening really. Just before bed last night I had a look out of the window and saw snow fluttering down and settling on the cars parked outside. Here we go - I thought. And so to bed.

I had a restless night listening to the wind howling round the windows of my flat. In my mind's eye I could see huge snow drifts piling up by my front door and polar bears rampaging through Crewkerne shopping centre, mind you I had been eating cheese. I woke up at about 5.30am and, somewhat pensively I pulled open the windows to see..... a completely clear scene. No snow, some rain and a blowy wind. A huge sigh of relief!

I had last been at The Park School in Yeovil back in January 2006, but it was a wonderful welcome I got on my return. Great teachers, lovely kids and, cropping up again, my dear friend, the gorgeous Belinda Stephens, late of Charlton Horethorne and North Petherton! It was great to see her! We had a fun half day, with a mixture of years 2, 3, 4, 5 & 6. Loads of laughs, nice cups of tea, wild stocks session and a rip roaring joust which the ladies waltzed away with! After such a good time I just hope it isn't another three years before I am back there again.

Tomorrow, another half day, this time down at Totton near Southampton. So wish me another friendly weather forecast tonight!

Snow, snow, thick, thick, snow.

My sister's driveway in Esgair, Cynwyl Elfed, Wales (today)

I remember very clearly, as a child, that if ever there was snow in the offing from a weather forecast, my father would writhe in his armchair, oaths were muttered and several new swear words were learnt by myself and my sisters. And, as a child, I could never understand my poor father's anguish. This was snow we were talking about! Snow! The most wonderful weather ever invented. Snow! You could do so much with it, like make a snowman for a start. And then make a snowball and throw it at someone. And...er....probably hundreds of other things. And yet my poor father would stand at the window, watching the fat white flakes cascading from the sullen black sky, slowly shaking his head and only cheering himself up by occasionally berating the passing dog or cat with a stumping mallet. (I jest). However, my sisters and myself would be in rapture to this gift from the sky. But looking back some thirty-odd years hence, and I can see exactly what my Father was wailing and gnashing his teeth over. Snow means one thing and one thing only. A pain in the you-know-what. It makes travel virtually impossible. At the merest sight of a flake of snow, all the idiots coming crawling out the woodwork and storm the nearest shop panic buying anything they can lay their hands on. I remember some years back visiting my parents in Mountnessing and over night there was a heavy fall of snow. My mother was a little short of milk (about 5' 4" to be precise) and she asked me if I'd walk up to the little shop in the village and get a pint. I duly did this, only to find the shop a heaving mass of humanity with people clutching bottles of Vimto and packets of pearl barley as if they were hand outs from UN feeding stations in a war torn area of Africa. The rather lovely young lady who worked in the shop at the time (the deliciously named Anna-Marie Herretierre de la Roche - you don't get names like that in places like Lidl these days) nearly wet herself laughing when I asked if she had any milk left. That had sold out shortly after the previous nights weather forecast, along with Cliff Richard LP's, dried grouting paste and all other essentials for a happy life.

So here I am in 2009, standing at the window, looking at the fat flakes of snow tumbling from the Bible black sky, grumbling to myself and wishing I had something to berate with a stumpers mallet. Never mind, Eamon Holmes might be on telly later - I can punch the TV screen then. So all Henry shows for this week have been postponed. My two apperances in Norfolk have been put back to March and my appearance at Blackbrook School in Taunton is now going to be at the end of February.
And just what did happen to Anna-Marie Herretierre de la Roche? I hope she married someone with an equally exciting surname.

Trapped!

Well, would you believe it? I drive in my little red Peugeot all over Britain for a year or so, never once treating the poor little thing to a service or a proper rest. Last week I take it into Popular Motors in Merriot for it's annual MOT and it passes with flying colours. Buoyed by this wonderful piece of money saving news, I then drive up to Essex, then Whitby and then back to Somerset with not so much as a murmur of disapproval from the car's engine. So I drive down to Wales to visit my sister and some other friends near Carmarthen. On the first evening there we drive up to Lampeter to pick a friends daughter up from University as it is her 21st birthday, and guess what? The car breaks down outside the halls of residence. The timing belt and some other parts of the alternator are in pieces. We get towed home by the AA. The local car garage near my sister's house cannot get the correct spare parts until late on the Friday and, as the garage is shut all weekend, cannot even begin to start work on repairing it until Monday. I was due in Essex on Monday, taking my wife out for a birthday treat. She has taken the news I won't be there very well and is only stabbing my voodoo doll with 2 inch pins, rather than the original 7 inch hat pins. The garage cannot guarantee that the car will be ready on Monday anyway, which could have a nasty knock on effect as I am due in Drayton near Norwich in Norfolk on Wednesday. ARGH!

So there you have it. Mike Farley, Good King Hal, News at Ten, Esgair near Cynwyl Elfed, Wales.

(P.S. And I was supposed to be going to the pub with Matthew Applegate on Sunday).

Lythe Junior, North Yorkshire

And so, it came to pass, that Good King Hal, he that is known as "Ginger Idiot in Tights", didst set forth in his mighty Peugeot 406 upon the road that is known as the A1(M) and didst travel many an hour in the direction of northwards. And the hours didst passeth and the mileometre in his car didst go round, verily unto liketh the gerbil upon the wheel in the cage (particularly one that hath been denied female companionship for about six months and then fed some sherbet - boyeth - do they go!). And it came to pass that eventually the Ginger Idiot didst reacheth the chosen land, that which is known as North Yorkshire, and didst maketh to the migthy citadel which is knoweth to all and sundry (and the British Tourist Board) as Whitby. And he didst sayeth "blimey", as he was cream crackered and there was much wailing and gnashing of teeth, and use of the "F" word as his back was soreth, even unto something very sore indeed. And eventually he foundeth his way unto the village called Ellerby where there was an inn, of the name The Ellerby Inn, because that's the sort of names they use "oop there". And he asketh, if there be room for him at the inn. And they said, "don't be a plum, of course there is, you booketh it via the electric telephone the other night." And there was much rejoicing. AMEN.

And so on and so forth. I had fallen on my feet here, and make no mistake. I had driven to Ellerby from Essex where I had been staying - about a 300 mile trip, but with it being a Sunday, I sailed through and arrived at the Hotel at about 2pm. I was booked in and shown to my room. There must be some mistake. This is luxurious! A super king size bed, flat screen plasma TV on the wall, designer fitted en-suite bathroom with walk in cubicle shower, plus my own little balcony to sit out on, should the howling wind and rain abate. I stood in the middle of this luxurious suite in my grotty travelling rags and felt like Worzel Gummidge at the Savoy Grill. After the long drive and a fairly poor nights sleep the night before, I decided to lay down on the incredibly comfortable bed and read my book, but I wouldn't sleep because....zzzzzzzzzzzzz. Oh dear. I woke with a start and found that it was now 6.30pm and I hadn't eaten since a rather limp sandwich bought at a petrol station near Huntingdon many hours previously.

I wandered down into the bar of the hotel and was delighted to find it busy, but not crowded, and nice and snug looking with a crackling log fire at one end. The only hand pumped beers they had were either Courage Directors or John Smiths Magnet Ale. Well, when in Yorkshire... I ordered a pint of John Smiths and of course forgot about the sparkler they insist on putting on all beer pumps at points north of Watford. This aerates the beer, fills it full of froth and puts a creamy head on it. It also makes the beer taste like dishwater. We only ever used to put sparklers on the pumps at the pub I worked at in Essex when the beer was on the turn, to mask the flavour. Anyway, I drank my dishwater and then ordered dinner. I abandoned the idea of beer after the first pint and moved onto red wine. The first one was lovely, would Sir like another? Yes, sir would. After three more anothers, Sir was ready for the first assault on the north face of the stairs back to his bedroom.

Morning broke - and no one was able to fix it. So I had my brekkie at the hotel and then made my way, the long three miles to the village of Lythe and the school therein. I had been booked by a lovely sounding lady called Helen Isaacs and she was just as charming in real life as she had been on the phone and via email. There was a problem in that the lights had all fused in the main hall, so I could either do my show in braille in there, or they could bring in some arc lights to illuminate the King. So arc lights it was. It was like being back on stage proper. They were a lovely group at the school - about 70 really fun very excitable children. We had a great day with lots of silly laughs and the usual marvellous demonstration of all that the children had already learnt. After a fine lunch and many laughs with all the charming teachers it was back in the arc lit hall for more Tudor nonsense. This went down a treat and we finished with a really rip roaring jousting tournament that the ladies managed to triumph in, storming to victory over the last leg. I packed and bade a tired farewell to a lovely school. It had been quite a trip to come and see them, but definitely worth it!

Back at the hotel that night I was sitting in the restaurant tackling a small plate of Whitby Scampi and ear wigging on the table next to me, full of four very pleasant older retired people enjoying a break at the hotel. They were all from Yorkshire, but obviously not this part as they were on holiday. (That makes sense...) One of the chaps was commenting on his job before retirement which had involved a lot of travel and trips to exotic places. He took great delight in all seriousness of telling his fellow guests about how he had made frequent trips to this glorious centre of hedonistic delights. It's name? Harpenden. I needed a drink after that. I sat at the bar and chatted to the hotel owners son, Mark, and one of their regular drinkers. They thought it was hilarious that I dressed up as Henry VIIIth for a living. How dare they. I hoisted my tights up and headed for bed...

I drove home today. Over five hours from door to door. YAWN. Tomorrow I drive to Wales. I must need locking up. That or a chauffeur. Any offers?

New Horizons

After a very pleasant long weekend spent with my parents in another futile effort to drink Somerset dry, it is now a case of "And Now For Something Completely Different". Well, mostly different anyway.

I have this weekend in Essex visiting all and sundry, when I will then head north, like a brave little King, proper north. Not just north of Watford, we are talking seriously north. North with a capital N. A right Royal NORTH if you will. For I am heading to Whitby. Whitby! Home of Dracula and an Abbey. Whitby! Full of steep streets and aggressive seagulls. Whitby! Where I had the finest fish and chips I have ever tasted. It was nearly 15 years ago and I haven't been back since, but I am quite looking forward to the visit, if not the journey there and back. I will be appearing on the Monday at Lythe Primary School, which makes them sound very supple. On the Sunday night and the Monday night I am staying at the Ellerby Inn Hotel in...er...Ellerby, which has been recommended to me by Helen Isaacs, the teacher who booked me for the event. It should be very exciting and a whole new chapter to the Good King Hal story.

So, off to Yorkshire I go. I better have my innoculations first and, pausing only to thrust a whippet and a ferret down my slacks, I shall adjust my flat cap and head north. Waggons roll!

Wassail!

For the third year running I attended the Barrington Court Wassail evening. Wassailing is an ancient tradition which involves blessing your apple trees for their forthcoming cider crop, and banishing any evil spirits by making a lot of noise. This was the biggest Wassail at Barrington since it was re-introduced. We had a mummers group from Langport who did their wonderful play, with everyone joining in cheering on brave St George and hissing and booing the Devil! There was also a magnificent Samba drumming band who whipped up a hell of a noise and an irresistable rhythm that had people swaying and feet tapping. We also had a Wassail specialist who sang some old carols - and then there was me! I read the Gloucestershire Carol which is another traditional Wassail poem/tune. Then we progress to the main apple tree and the blessing begins, with much offering of cider and toast, shouting and even the letting off of guns!

All the cudos for organising this event must go to my old mate Matthew Applegate who did a magnificent job and was a superb MC for the whole thing. In the deep winter darkness and with a huge bonfire to warm our hearts (and generous quantities of Barrington Court's own cider!) it was a perfect evening - until the heavens opened. It rained in quite Biblical proportions and I have to say I was soon drenched, frozen and in need of food. So I quietly sloped away from Barrington and headed back to Crewkerne and a Chinese takeaway! Lovely.

WASSAIL!

Blundell's Prep, Tiverton

Another day and another early start. Will they ever end? I had a dreadful nights sleep, but then I only have myself to blame after eating cheese just before bed. How else can I explain the dreadful nightmare I had involving being locked in a hotel surrounded by zombies? It was either that or too much watching "Dead Set" the other week.

The drive to Tiverton is a pleasant enough thing on most days, but it was a wild, squally morning with scudding black clouds and intermittent rain, so not much fun really. Added to which my new-ish sat nav decided to take me the most interminable route down some of the smallest back lanes near Tiverton to get me to Blundell's Prep School.

As ever I was warmly greeted at the school by Stef Jeffs, the teacher I deal with. She was gorgeously attired in her Tudor garb. All the children wore some fantastic costumes as well. We had a fun extended morning in the Drama Studio, with loads of jokes galore and some excellent learning. After a wonderful fish and chips lunch we were in the main hall for the afternoon session for stocks and jousting. The jousting was hilarious. Both girls and boys teams that won through to the final had been paired against such incompetent opponents in the semi finals that you had no idea how good they were till they got to the final. As it was, both teams were pretty spectacularly good and the final was won and lost on one missed quoit....by the ladies team. So the gents triumphed again. Well done lads. One of the best bits of the day was a young lady in the front row who for the vast majority of the day sat stoney faced while surrounded by hysterically laughing classmates and complaining "Is this really funny? I mean is it? What are we laughing at?" Poor child.

I got home this evening to a phone call from a TV company wanting me to appear in a documentary for the History Channel to be filmed at the end of this month. Watch this space for more.

Tomorrow is Wassail Day at Barrington Court. You have been warned again!

Two Re-visits.

It was back to school for me. After the Christmas hiatus and a few other bits and pieces it was finally back to the usual routine of school visits for me this week. On Monday I was off to Dean Close Prep School in Cheltenham for my fourth annual visit there. It was lovely to be back - a really nice pleasant school, just a shame about the weather driving up there. The sky was Bible black for the most, and you add in loads of rain and road spray and you'll find it was not a fun jaunt up the old M5. However, I was warmly welcomed as ever and the children were hilarious. We had a fun day, a fantastic lunch (during which I was besieged by young fans as I tried to eat my dinner!) which was capped off with Eton Mess! WOW! I haven't had Eton Mess in years and it was lovely! It still looks like an accident on a plate, but who cares. The jousting was a fun encounter which the gents just managed to win from a good ladies team. I drove him in slightly better conditions and in the evening went for a beer with Matthew Applegate over at the Duke of York pub in Shepton Beauchamp, primarily to discuss this weekend's forthcoming Wassail, but mostly just for a beer!

I drove up to Essex on the Tuesday and collected James from school. The evening was spent at leisure with both James and Amanda. On the Wednesday I was back at Wickford Junior which is one of my favourites in Essex! You are guaranteed great children, lovely teachers, good lunch and a laugh all round, and they didn't disappoint again! We had a fabulous day - so many laughs I can't even begin to list them all for you. The jousting was again of a really high standard with this time the ladies coming through for a very impressive win. The evening followed spent with Amanda and James, accompanied by a nice big take away pizza! Amanda and I watched "Gavin and Stacey" on DVD and so to bed.

I am back in Somerset now preparing for tomorrow when I am back for a third visit to Blundell's Preparatory School in Tiverton in Devon. And don't forget the Wassail at Barrington Court on Saturday! Don't miss it!

BBC Somerset - A New Dawn!

It had been some time since my last appearance on BBC Somerset's "Morning Jo Show" and their News Panel. Things have changed since then. The most obvious one being that Jo Phillips has left the station and taken her career off to pastures new. Her replacement could not have been better chosen! It is Emma Britton who was already at the station working as Jo's helper and doing the traffic reports and many other things. Emma is lovely and has proven herself to be a very talented broadcaster. The show set up has been altered as well - it is much more driven by audience participation. So a main topic is chosen to be discussed amongst the three members of the panel, you do still get to choose a story from one of the morning's papers to discuss as a side topic, and people are encouraged to phone, text or email in and join the show.

It gave a whole new feel to the show and was most enjoyable. My fellow panellists were Billy from Clevedon who was a kitchen fitter - great fun and a real laugh; Jayne Summers, a lovely lady from Bridgwater - a rock singer who has just got her own recording contract, and again good company and fun. We got some good feedback from the audience and people joining in, so a good morning was had by all.

And Emma - you were great!

Tomorrow I am off to Dean Close School in Cheltenham.

U3A & Southampton...

Following my appearance at St Bartholomew's Church Fete back at the end of the summer, I had been approached by several members of the local U3A group to do a talk for them at one of their monthly meetings. This occurred last Monday at the Methodist Church in South Street, Crewkerne. They advertised the show as "The Mystery from History", which was a pretty snappy title. The hall was cold, but pretty full, and I was asked to wear a throat mic for some of the more "mutton" members of the group. I started a little shakily, after all this was my first Henry talk for nearly a month, but I was soon in my stride and I have to say I got a really good response from the group. Lots of laughter, particularly at some of the stories I told about children saying things to me.

Today, Wednesday, I have been back to sunny Southampton to visit some old friends I used to work with at Skandia Life. Before Iwent to the restaurant to meet the main group, I went to Skandia House itself and saw, among others the lovely Sue Plumb, Trevor the bizarre security man, Janet Mabey, Miles Butler (he still hasn't gone metric), Vanessa Adamson, Tracie Callaway (as was) from CCS and the sainted Paul Stewart. Paul looks after a lot of the software and servers at Skandia and apparently gets an alert every time Skandia Life is mentioned somewhere. So... SKANDIA LIFE SKANDIA LIFE SKANDIA LIFE! That should blow a few fuses.

I then wandered round to Piccolo Mondo, a brilliant but tiny restaurant near Skandia House that we always used to use and met up with Ruth Le Mesurier and Sue Marsh. We three nearly always used to meet up on a Wednesday and put the world to right, but now in 2009 we find that only Sue is still working for Skandia. Ruth has more or less retired and I am making a crust leaping around like a gert big Tudor Jessie. We had a lovely meal and a good laugh and joke about life in general, but all too soon it was time for me to be on my way. Sue and Ruth both say when they Google their names, they only ever come up on this blog. Well, glad to have given them a couple more hits!

A Happy New Henry Year

2009 dawns, so a Happy New Year to all regular readers of this nonsense. 2008 was a year of quite tumultuous change in my private life, however, Henry continues as per normal. Today sees 2009 kicking off with a talk to a local branch of U3A. "Who hell they?" I hear you cry. Well a few years ago I would have said the same thing, then my dear late lamented grandfather came home one day and proudly announced he had joined U3A, or University of the Third Age to give them their full title. With a name like that I imagined he'd end up brainwashed in a ranch near Waco with National Guardsmen trying to blow his eyebrows off with automatic rifles. But it is a rather groovy group of OAP's who like to learn new things and consequently they have meetings, talks, outings etc. It's like Saga crossed with the Rough Ramblers. Well I have been approached by the Crewkerne brance of U3A and I am doing a talk for them this afternoon. Wednesday I am in Southampton making my annual, but this time belated visit, to all my old chums at dear old Skandia Life, where I used to work. Then on Friday I am back on BBC Somerset for the Morning Panel - only without the Sainted Jo Phillips! SHE HAS LEFT!! ARGH! I am still in touch with the lovely lady, and her replacement is the almost equally gifted and lovely Emma Britton, so it's not all bad - but it just won't be the same! So if you get a chance to listen in to BBC Somerset this Friday between 9 and 10am, you will hear my dulcet tones - you lucky people!
Why the picture above? It makes me laugh. It was taken during my last run in Henry's Horrid History at Leeds Castle a year or so back and I am looking at the cup and ball game in my hand with a sort of quizzical look. Anyone care to put a caption to it? Email me at good_king_hal@yahoo.co.uk a special mention in this blog for the winning entry!

All Connected...

I never thought I would hear myself say the following words, but "God Bless AOL!" I am back on line! At home, and for the first time since early November I feel I can now properly get in touch with the outside world. Gosh, what must life have been like before the internet and emails? Well, I only have to look back about 10-15 years to see it, but it is almost impossible to imagine now. Can you imagine if the Tudors had had access to emails, the internet and mobile phones? Henry VIIIth constantly checking Catherine Howard's inbox in case one of her many admirers was sending her something she shouldn't see - and I am not talking about on-line adverts for viagra and hair loss therapies. Francis Drake not bothering to circumnavigate the globe as he could see it all on Google Earth and wikipedia, and it looked "gay". Elizabeth I and Mary, Queen of Scots exchanging pleasantries via Facebook and text message. "u r not as gr8 as u fink u r" says Elizabeth. "at lst i not a hlf bald virgin - LOL ROFL" from Mary. No wonder she was beheaded. "Elizabeth is now friends with the Earl of Essex". It wouldn't last...

Life has been mad for the previous few weeks - tearing up and down the A303 and M3 between Somerset and Kent, betwixt shows at Dillington House and Leeds Castle. Then a few days yo-yo-ing between Kent and Essex visiting friends and relatives. I was nearly killed on the M20 in Kent one evening going to visit my friends Anne and Ben Lyle at Shoreham - I was happily pootling up the fast lane of the M20 at about 80mph in the dark, to be confronted by some dimwit driving the wrong way down the M20 in the fast lane. How I missed him, I do not know, but suffice to say I was shocked and was nearly biting the buttons off my car seat with my bottom.

I have been blessed with some lovely pressies at Christmas - DVD's of two of my all time favourite films "Rear Window" and "The History of Mr Polly". Sheer delight with both of those. Also some books about the history of London's East End, Alfred the Great and the final book (so far) in Malcolm Pryce's hilarious Aberystwyth series.

Anyway, if I don't get to say it again, Happy New Year to anyone who regularly reads this blog. But dammit, I am in such a good mood I'll even wish to people who don't read this blog. But how will they know...? Answers on a post card.

A Merry Christmas!

Well hello, loyal blog readers.  You might just have noticed my distinct lack of updates on this blog of late.  This is something to do with me not adding anything to the blog.  A feeble but, lets face it, water tight excuse.  The reasons for this are many fold but the most obvious one being that I have not had internet access at the new flat since I moved in, then since early December I have been mostly away in Kent doing my Father Christmas thing down at Leeds Castle again.  It's been great fun to be with everyone at the Castle again, especially the lovely Darlene and Helen, but it is also good to see the wonderful Jean, Judy, Carole and others who help out as my "Elves".

I've also been doing a few Henry VIIIth appearances at some schools, and also at Leeds Castle (again!) plus an appearance at Dillington House (as seen in the picture here) for their annual Christmas House Party which was tremendous fun.  

Working as Father Christmas is mentally, if not physically exhausting.  Being nice for all that time!!  It's just not me! The children are just delightful, so many sweet kids, one or two who scream at the first site of Father Christmas and just look terrified of the whole experience, and of course the occasional embarrassed, mortified looking teenager dragged into the grotto by an over enthusiastic parent!  The biggest down side of this work is to sit and constantly listen to the same CD of jolly Christmas music over and over again, seven days a week.  The added point that drives you insane is that the CD player is attached to about 15 different speakers throughout the grotto which splits the stereo sound up into different "areas". Therefore in the central grotto where I sit, the music has been split right down to just a backing track of keyboards, drums, backing vocals and the effects that had been layered on the lead vocals.  This would normally be OK with most music CD's, but we are playing Disney songs in the grotto this year, and few sounds can be more disturbing than to hear a music track of keyboards, drums, backing vocals and the lead effects vocals of Donald Duck, which makes him sound like a normal singer who's had to endure a trachaeotomy.  Scary.  No wonder the kids cry!  All joking aside, it has been a delight as ever to work at Leeds Castle and I shall be there until Christmas Eve.  Maybe see you there!

Merry Christmas, folks...