A'r Brenin arwain gorllewin (trwy Swindon). AND XTC!

Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs in drag.  From left to right: Bashful, Sleepy, Zeppo, Adolf, Brian, Shergar, Miss Chatham 1974, and another one.

The world turns and life moves on.  And for Good King Hal, it is just more and more endless roads.  The weekend of the 25th January found your jovial King once more in the south east of England.  I had Friday with my lovely son, and the Saturday morning, before heading down to Kent for my brother in law Julian's 50th birthday party.  It was a fantastic evening, populated with a nice gathering of close friends while we had our ear drums blasted out of our skulls by the consummate musical skills of the band The Licks.  A very competent and lively covers band, their lead singer looked like the unfortunate result of a night of passion between Mick Jagger and Charley Boorman, but he was a great front man.  Our dear old friend Michael Croydon once more displayed his drum whacking skills had not diminished as he pushed the rhythms along.  Add a fine bass player and a more than adequate plank spanker and you had the ideal band for a gathering like this.  It was great to see Ann Turner Maynard and her husband Dave again, plus Michelle Coda and Matt Rentell were there, and many other old familiar faces.  A great evening.  Made even the sweeter for me by the mere presence of a lady called Elaine.  But we'll leave it at that for now.  Keep you lot all hanging on on tenter hooks.

Sadly I had to whizz back to Somerset on the Sunday to get ready for two shows in two days.  The journey back was horrendous as the weather was simply so awful.  It was truly grisly, worse even than having to walk around CENSORED FOLLOWING LEGAL ADVISE gardens with CENSORED FOLLOWING LEGAL ADVICE and the other hatchet faced old boots from the CENSORED FOLLOWING LEGAL ADVICE, which was usually about as much fun as nailing your scrotum to a telegraph pole and then employing a blind rabid baboon to try and rip the nails out with his teeth.  Oh how I miss those happy days. I had a few hours at home to collect my thoughts, then I was up early and out of the door for a drive to Swindon, home of XTC and Billie Piper, among others, for a visit to Gorse Hill School.  This was a lovely school and a great day seemed to be had by all - much laughter from a great group of kids. Only one of the teachers had dressed up, all the others had declined the opportunity.  But she looked stunning in her, frankly Medieval dress, and certainly cheered my day up no end.  The final joust was incredibly loud and closely fought, but inevitably the ladies snatched a vital victory to extend their overall lead even further.  Our score is now:

GENTLEMEN 11.5 - 17.5 LADIES

They are virtually out of sight now.  It was as pathetic as CENSORED FOLLOWING LEGAL ADVISE trying to get into CENSORED FOLLOWING LEGAL ADVISE without an invite and demanding a dressing room when the jousting is on.

If I had any time to rest on my laurels, I barely had time to notice.  All too soon my alarm was squawking on my bedside table and I was up and out of the door again into another cold quiet early morning long distance drive.  I was this time making a return visit to Barry Island, in the Vale of Glamorgan (sounds lovely doesn't it?) and a day with the children and staff of Colcot School.  This lot were a lovely sparky bunch, ready to laugh and join in and not backward in coming forward with examples of their own knowledge.  Even if that knowledge could at some times be a bit dodgy.  The morning zipped past in very pleasant time and I was soon scarfing down a very welcoming plate of pasta bolognese and garlic bread for my lunch.  Just after the lunch break the teachers put on a mini Tudor banquet for the children, with pottage, ginger breads, and mulled apple juice to wash it all down.  I was on the top table with several children sitting with me, their names being drawn at random as to who should sit with the King.  I was sitting next to a very chatty and confident little girl of about eight.  She told me very proudly that she was learning to speak Welsh at school, which I told her I thought was a brilliant idea.  She showed me her new found skills by first saying "yacchi da" at me.  Then she told me how to say "hello" in Welsh.  Apparently you have to say "bonjour" in a thick French accent.  How do you follow that?  How DO you follow that?  In my case it is with a jousting tournament.  And it was another belter.  So close, all the way through.  In the final it honestly looked like the Gents had it sewn up, but their final rider had a bit of a mare, and the ladies romped through to nick it on the last quoit.  Would you believe it?  The score goes now to:

GENTLEMEN 11.5 - 18.5 LADIES

If this was a boxing match, they'd have stopped it by now to stop the lads from taking any more punishment.  A bit like Spurs being slaughtered by Manchester City the other night.  5-1, at White Hart Lane.  And that goes with the 6-0 drubbing they took at the Etihad Stadium earlier in the season.  11-1 on aggregate I make that. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear...   I drove on from Barry Island and onto see my parents in Newcastle Emlyn, some 80+ miles further on into the Land of Song, Ivor Emmanuel and Goldie Looking Chain.  It was a long old trek and made all the more incredible for me as one of the teachers at Colcot School in Barry, drives there and back, every day from Newcastle Emlyn.  And I thought I was insane when I used to drive 75 miles to Southampton every day from Somerset, when I worked at Skandia.  

It was lovely to see my folks, and they have pampered me ridiculously, I have helped out a little round the house, doing errands, helping to underpin the mansion and re-tarmacked the main Cardigan Road, but it has been worth it just to spend some time with them.  And Elaine.... they're DYING to meet you!

Monday sees me back at the lovely Riverside School in Hereford and then on Tuesday down to one of my all time favourites, Coalway Junior in Coleford in the Forest of Dean.  And not a sign of  CENSORED FOLLOWING LEGAL ADVISE , stomping round like a cross between Peppa Pig and a steam roller with a cob on.  No, neither hide nor hair of her.  Thank God.

One Month - No Blog.

Good King Hal showing utter contrition for his lack of blog for the last month.

A month?  Are you sure?  Strewth.  What have I been doing?  Oh I know, Christmas and Tudor stuff, as any normal despotic post medieval ruler should do.  I really have to cast my mind back to try and remember what the hell I have been doing for the past month.  Some afternoons I have trouble remembering what I did in the morning, so this could be hard work.  So where to begin?  At the very beginning, as Julie Andrews would have warbled, it's a very good place to start...

14th December I had been booked to appear at Chester Town Hall for a corporate evening bash for a company called Kingspan who make wall cladding, apparently.  Well my King's span is pretty big, but I am not sure how much wall I can actually cover without it being a bit painful. I drove up to Chester at lunchtime on the Saturday and booked into a hotel.... oh alright, a Days Inn, on the outskirts of the city.  This plastic hotel was a bit different to most of the others I have used recently as it was really nice!  It had recently been renovated, was very cosy, nicely equipped and had a lovely king size bed that was incredibly comfortable.  The weather was revolting and a pre-cursor of what to expect over Christmas and the new year - a cold howling wind and heavy squally rain showers.  As I didn't know Chester at all and wasn't sure what the parking would be like at the venue I had decided instead to book a taxi to get me there and back.  I had visited Chester once before, but that was in 1981 and I kind of guessed the town might have changed a bit since I was last there.  My taxi arrived bang on time and I was soon being whisked off into the night for my appointment at the Town Hall. My driver was a lovely bloke, a scouser with a lovely thick Liverpudlian accent.  We got to chatting about football and he asked me what team I supported.  When I said Manchester City he briefly took a fierce intake of breath.

"You're lucky you said that, mate" he said.  "If you'd said Manchester United I'd have made you get out and f***ing walk."  Really?  "Oh yeah, if I ever get any of those b***ards in my cab I charge them double."  Ah bless him!  

Chester Town Hall is a marvellous Victorian edifice - a celebration of Gothic architecture and full of grand high ceilings, sweeping staircases, imposing busts (ooh er!) and mock medieval touches here and there.  I was sharing a changing room with all the other artists booked that evening including three jesters, a group of medieval musicians and a fire breather.  They were all lovely and very welcoming and I was soon stationed at the front door ready to welcome the guests as they arrived.  There was a whole load of gorgeous young wenches in elegant dresses, there to be waitresses and staff for the event.  I chatted to them and they were all students working at the University of Liverpool, one of whom was studying ancient music and medieval plainsong.  The guests who first arrived were greeted by two of the jesters on the stairs who were juggling and fire breathing, until they were told to stop fire breathing by a jobs worth from the City Council who claimed the heat and smoke from their activity might set off the fire alarms and sprinklers in the building.  Inside, I was there at the top of the stairs with four of the wenches, and yet another jester who was showing amazing juggling skills with a variety of objects, even heavy glass globes - and all of this over solid stone floors.  A brave man.  The guests began arriving in drips and drabs, but it soon turned into a torrent.  As with most British works bashes, all of the women were dressed amazingly in beautiful fine dresses and gowns, and the men were in a general uniform of fancy shirt, jeans and boots.  One lady who turned up on this cold evening was wearing an outfit that resembled a large, black see-through handkerchief.  She had nothing on underneath and was VERY cold, if you know what I mean.  They were sticking out like chapel hat pegs and you could have struck matches on them.  But at least I had somewhere to hang my hat.  The musicians started and sounded wonderful.  Some medieval music groups I have heard can be very quiet - this lot were like the historical version of The Who - especially their drummer who had what appeared to be a Tudor samba drum and it made an incredibly wonderful booming sound that resounded through the building.  I then had to go upstairs to where the guests drinks reception was being held and process them down to the main hall for their dinner.  The main hall in the building is magnificent with a colossally high ceiling with an impressive hammer beam style roof.  I had a large golden throne to park my Royal derriere on and receive guests as they came in.  I posed for numerous photos, had lots of lovely ladies come and want to sit on my lap - who was I to argue? - and then a few navigation's of the room to see how all the guests were.  I had a quick break to snaffle down some dinner, which was delicious, then it was back into the hall for a grand draw with various prizes for the guests, one last patrol of the hall, and then I was released.  I got changed, wandered outside, found a taxi and began my journey back to my hotel.  This driver was a bit different from my earlier one as he explained in great details about his chronic heart problems that meant he could kick the bucket at any second.  I just prayed he got me back to my hotel first, which he did.  I had a lovely comfortable night in my hotel and then drove back to Somerset early on the Sunday morning.

Tuesday found me at Evercreech in Somerset for my final school appearance of 2013.  Evercreech school was lovely and I was very warmly welcomed by staff and pupils alike, all of whom were a bit end of term crazy and ready for a good time, so who was I to say no?  We had a simply splendid day, so many laughs, great fun with the kids and a truly memorable day.  For the jousting we brought the rest of the school in to watch and this of course increased the sound volume immensely.  As has been the case throughout the year, nothing changed and the ladies romped to a very impressive win.  The score at the end of the year goes to:

GENTLEMEN 9.5 - 14.5 LADIES

It pains me to say it, but the boys look clueless at present.  And so my final professional engagement of the year ended and I looked forward to my Christmas break.

For Christmas I first drove back to Essex to pick up Amanda and James from Basildon, then on the 23rd we drove down to Wales and a visit to my parents in Newcastle Emlyn.  The weather down was frighteningly horrible - the wind, almost hurricane like in it's ferocity buffeted the car and made driving very difficult.  When we stopped for lunch at Membury Services on the M4, it was almost impossible to walk from the car to the services without being blown over. Finally, as we got down to near the Severn crossing the wind began to abate, the rain stopped, and by the time we reached our turn off at Carmarthen, we even had a clear sky above us.  The fields around Newcastle Emlyn were heavily flooded and the rivers were so submerged you could not make out their true course.  Christmas was a delight, James thoroughly enjoyed himself and everyone had a good time.  I had to have my car looked at because of possible brake problems.  I booked it into Emlyn Motors who promised me it was brake pad problems and wouldn't be too expensive.  Well that obviously means something completely different in Welsh than it does in English as the "not too expensive" brakes cost me nearly £500 with all the new callipers and the work they had to do.   I had felt tremendously smug just before Christmas as I had come through it all with money to spare in my account.  Well that was that p***ed up the wall in 10 seconds flat.  Arse. I drove James and Amanda back to Essex, spent a couple more days with them and then headed back to Somerset.  I spent New Years Eve with my lovely old friend Ali Bessell, and we had a smashing evening watching the movie "World's End", nibbling canapes and sipping proseco.  The evening ended with us watching Jools Holland's Hootenanny on BBC2, which was good fun, apart from groovy new girl guitar band Haim, who sounded like a third rate amateur band bashing out cover versions in your local boozer.  How the hell they have garnered such a reputation so early in their career God alone knows.  Truly awful. 

I had a week's grace to get myself attuned to being back in the real world, but then my first 2014 bookings appeared.  My first show was at the deliciously named Gothic Mede Academy in the town of Arlesy in Bedfordshire.  With a name like that I imagined copious amounts of dry ice, all the teachers with black hair and white painted faces and Bauhaus blaring out of all available speakers (Yes, Corinna, I know, I know...) but it was a fairly normal ordinary school.  The lady who had booked me was incredibly pregnant and looked tremendously uncomfortable throughout the day, poor love, but they were very welcoming and we had a lovely mixed group of years three and four, just under 100 children.  Loads of laughs and fun, and the children all enjoyed watching the film I had made at Hever Castle during the summer.  The jousting was incredibly close, really a tight tight finish, probably closer than anything I had seen in 2013.  But inevitably the ladies stormed through to nick victory.

GENTLEMEN 9.5 - 15.5 LADIES

This is getting embarrassing.  Much as I would have liked to have leapt in the car and head for home, I had to head north instead to Northampton for my next appointment on the following day.  I was back to dear old Travelodge for the night and was delighted to find the hotel I was in was just as lovely as the Days Inn at Chester had been.  Warm, welcoming, comfortable and the all new big king size bed.  Brilliant!  I had a lovely lovely evening and slept like a log.

If I thought the Gothic Mede Academy was a good name yesterday, today I was at the equally wonderfully named Hopping Hill Primary School in Duston, in Northampton.  Today was a fabulous day - a year six group, a rare thing, but they were brilliant. We started off in their classroom for the morning as the hall was out of commission, but we had a fabulous time.  Chris Barnes, the gentleman who had booked me was lovely, but looked about 12 years old - you know you're getting old when teachers could realistically be your children.  A lovely lady went out of her way to look after me at lunchtime, going out to the local shops to get me a sandwich and drink, and she refused any money for them.  What a nice lady. The stocks and the jousting in the hall were a delight and we finished on that rarest of things - a win for the Gentlemen!  But, boy was it close again. We had to go to a jousting penalty shoot out to get a result.

GENTLEMEN 10.5 - 15.5 LADIES

Wow, did the boys team need that.  They were getting left behind again.  I began the long slog back home to Somerset and finally arrived in Crewkerne just after 6pm.  I was hungry and knew there wasn't much at home, so I decided to get fish and chips.  Not from my usual miserable bastards in West Street, but instead I decided to try Tucker's, the new chip shop in East Street, and they were lovely.  Welcoming, chatty, friendly, clean and pleasant - pretty much everything the other place isn't.  So, that's my new chip shop sorted out.  I got back home, stuck on the TV, ate my dinner and promptly fell asleep on the sofa.  Oh, the wild and exciting life of a Henry VIII look-a-like!

My next Henry appearance is next Monday with a return visit to one of my longest standing bookings, at Blundell's Prep School in Tiverton in Devon.  Should be a fun one like it always is.

Norwich in the South East? Norfolk in chance.

Jane Seymour, bursting into tears when the blindfold falls off and she finally see's her new husband...

So with the dust barely settling on the Holy Family School in Benfleet, his Royal Sagaciousness was up at the crack of dawn and out of the front door of Amanda's house and on the road to Norfolk.  I had mentioned to some friends that I was in the South East for the week for shows in Benfleet, Norwich and Wickford, for which my friends had snorted and said, since when was Norwich in the South East?  Well, when you live in Somerset, everything to the east of London appears to be the South East.  Sort of... Depends on which way you face and where you start from.  Oh shut up.  I don't care.  I knew what I meant.  And anyway, it wasn't even in Norwich, I was returning to Martham on the outskirts of Great Yarmouth.  Yes, Great Yarmouth, or how I still refer to it - AAARGH!!!  Not my favourite place on Earth.  I am not a big fan of seaside resorts, and let me tell you, Great Yarmouth is THE last resort.  Anyway, it doesn't matter as I was in Martham, which is a lovely little area and nothing to do with Great Yarmouth at all.  Norfolk has this reputation for having a population full of people dressed in smocks throwing turnips at old ladies that they think are witches, to paraphrase Charlie Brooker, but the children and staff at Martham are always really on the ball, and this year was no different.  It was a big group as ever, well over 100 children, but we had a fantastic time, great response and loads of laughs from all the children and staff.  It's a long drive to Martham, but days like this make it worth it.  The jousting was deafening, unsurprising considering the size of the group, and ended in a massively important win for the Ladies!  And so the score clicks over to:

GENTLEMEN 7.5 - 8.5 LADIES

So the ladies strike back after a good recent series of wins for the gentlemen.  

I got home to Amanda's place and had lots of cuddles from my lovely son, James.  Always makes the day worthwhile when that happens.  The following day, the Thursday, luckily I was much closer to Amanda's place with a return visit to Wickford School in Essex.  Wickford is a lovely school, and is always a delight to come along to. Yet another warm welcome and yet another group of fabulous kids.  All the teachers were great fun as usual, except for one very dour Welsh male teacher who spent the entire day with his arms folded, a resigned look upon his face somewhere between pain and utter disinterest.  This was a challenge, and so during the afternoon stocks session when my shows get incredibly silly, I kept haranguing him and dragging him into my routines.  But I'll give the old leek muncher his due, he resolutely refused to raise a smile for the entire day.  I was for once, defeated. Diolch yn fawr, as they say in some of the more refined sheep shearing parlours in upper Gwent.  I prefer O leiaf yn ceisio gwenu, rydych yn ddiflas git Cymru.  But please yourself I say.

Another fabulous jousting tournament in the afternoon culminated in a stunningly easy win for the ladies, again!  This is much more like last year!  Our score goes on to:

GENTLEMEN 7.5 - 9.5 LADIES

So daylight once more splits the two teams.  And this is our score as we moved into the half term period of this scholastic year.  Any thoughts of an evening of rest was soon scuppered as I was asked to go along with Amanda and James and see their latest rehearsal for the play they are appearing in - Charles Dickens' "A Christmas Carol".  James is playing the street urchin that Scrooge encourages to go and buy the big turkey for the Cratchitt family at the end of the play.  He has learnt his lines brilliantly, and just needs to slow down his delivery a bit and he will be a big star.  Amanda is playing an old hag who pilfers Scrooge's belongings after he has died.  I refuse to mention the words "type" and "casting" at this juncture as I rather like my cobblers where they are at the moment.  All in all, the play itself looks like it is going to be a stunner, and speaking of stunners, so is the lady playing the Ghost of Christmas Past.  I must go to the first performance and sit in the front row.

Half term saw James and I head down to Wales for a few days in the pouring wind and rain that appeared to be Newcastle Emlyn and my parents house.  To be honest some of the weather forecasts we got at the start of the week were a tad biblical, but the plague of locusts and boils did miss us on the whole and we had a lovely few days away.

Next stop for the King - an appearance at Hampton Court Palace on Monday doing a corporate event for BP.  My first Hampton Court show - I can't wait!  Watch this space for more.

Tilehurst and Lots and Lots of the M4.

Good King Hal, admiring the gear change smoothness on his Tudor Car.  He decided instead to get a four door car.  (Tudor?  Two door?  Geddit?)

So, where is Tilehurst, eh?  Anyone?  Bueller?  Bueller?  Never mind.  I assumed, with a name like that it must be somewhere in Kent.  Wrong!  It is just to the west of Reading in the County of Berkshire.  I was lined up for a morning at Park Lane Junior School in this fine town.  I drove up the A303 in thick fog, then up the A34 and finally on the M4 briefly before cutting up to Tilehurst itself.  The school is a big old red brick Victorian building, but there is no parking on the site, however I was lucky enough to be allowed to leave my car just inside the school gate and tucked up next to the door into the main hall.  I was very warmly welcomed by some lovely teachers and staff.  It was an odd morning in that the school had worked out their own timetable for me.  This started with two sessions with the main groups, just in a question and answer situation.  When this was done I was back in the hall with the first group again, this time with the Six Wives talk, then a bit of music and finally a quick frantic joust.  This first joust was incredibly close but was won by a very good ladies team.  If we add this to our scores we have:

GENTLEMEN 2 - 5 LADIES

The second group then came back in and I whipped through the Six Wives talk again, which was a bit of a mind bender doing it again so quickly.  My brain was constantly screaming "YOU'VE ALREADY SAID THIS!" but I managed to keep going.  The second jousting tournament was a lot louder but infinitely more confusing.  Despite frequent repeats of the rules, both teams really struggled as to what the hell they were doing.  Quoits flew everywhere, some riders roared off to the other side of the tilt where they shouldn't be and confusion ran amok.  In the end, with the clock zooming round towards midday and time for me to go, I called a halt to the tournament and declared it a draw, which seemed to please no one!  So I suppose I can only give half a point to each team, which makes our score now look a bit odd.

GENTLEMEN 2.5 - 5.5 LADIES

As I was about to go and get changed, one of the dinner ladies approached me.  "I'm parked behind you." She said.  I nodded and said, OK, I'll get changed and we can sort it out.  But she stopped me in my tracks and repeated, "but I'm parked behind you."  I looked at her for a second or two, nodded slowly and repeated what I had said previously.  There was a slight pause, and she repeated "But I am parked behind you, out there!" and she pointed as though to convince me to go and look.  I finally had to ask her what she was so worried about.  "Well I've got to serve dinner in a moment..." she began in a panicked little voice. I assured her that someone would, surely, allow her a minute to let her ladle have a rest while she moved her car.  And I was proved so right!  I packed what I thought was everything away and headed off down the M4 towards Wales and a visit to my folks.  I was taking them to the airport again, something I used to do a lot when they lived in Essex but haven't done as much since they moved to Wales.  The trip down was fine and they greeted me warmly and then, very nicely, took me out to dinner at the Emlyn Arms Hotel in the town of Newcastle Emlyn where they live.  We had a fabulous meal and returned home to burp loudly and sip brandy.  Splendid.  I discovered to my horror the next day that I had left one of my Tudor musical instruments at Park Lane School in Tilehurst.  I blamed the dinner lady for distracting me.

After another fine day with my folks it was time for a very early get up of 3.15am, and then a drive up the M4 to take them to Heathrow for their main holiday for the year - a trip to the USA.  Lovely.  We got to the airport and I dropped them off, but this was where my fun was now starting.  I then had to drive back down the M4 to Newcastle Emlyn and drop my father's car back at their house and collect my car, before then driving back UP the M4 to Essex and a visit to my ex-wife Amanda's place and a visit to her and my lovely son James.  It was an incredibly long day, made slightly longer by on the first journey back from Heathrow I stopped off at Park Lane School and picked up my errant musical instrument.  But it was good to have it back.  

And so to Essex, and tomorrow I have a return visit to South Green Junior in Billericay for a full day.  Always a lovely school to visit, it should be fun.  Then on Saturday I am in Southampton for the Tudor Revels event - Meet the Ancestors.  I am on at about 3.30pm in the afternoon doing my Henry's Horrid History show.  Come one, come all.

Epsom, Mudford, Newcastle Emlyn - now THAT'S cosmopolitan.

Mum and Dad Farley have really started blending in with the natives.  My father is on the right.

Following on from the horrors of Knebworth, my next sojourn into the delights of dressing up as a big Tudor jessie saw me driving round the M25 for a return appearance at Bourne Hall Museum in the leafy suburbs of Epsom and Ewell.  You may remember my visit I spoke about last year, and how Bourne Hall itself resembles a BBC Sci Fi special effect alien space ship from the 1970's - well it still does.  And much as I was hoping the entire cast of Blake's 7 were going to turn up and start teleporting me about, they didn't.  Not even Sally Knyvette, and she was seriously gorgeous back in the years before Margaret Thatcher, but more about her later.

I was greeted at the museum by it's two main men - David and Jeremy, both of whom have a touch of the Womble about them.  You tend to get the feeling that they actually live in the ramshackle store room they use as an office, and both of them have the look of people who don't see daylight very often.  You can imagine them walking out the front door and pausing in the sun to blink slowly and rub their eyes at the sparkling wonder of it all.  They are both lovely and greeted me with a welcoming cup of tea and various anecdotes they had just acquired about the local Home Guard from the second World War.  Once more my show was on down in the theatre in the bowels of the building, and once more we were packed out for both shows.  When I finished my first show I headed back up to their warren.... I mean office, for a spot of lunch which turned out to be an out of date jam doughnut with the consistency of a cannon ball, followed by a slice of lemon drizzle cake which was delicious.  So swings and roundabouts.  The second show was equally fun and we ended with a grand Tudor Foot Wrestling competition.  How do you describe Foot Wrestling?  Well I don't, just imagine trying to push someone over, without using your hands, standing on one leg and not being allowed to kick or stamp on your opponent.  Yeah, like that.

I drove back to Somerset from Epsom and got home about 6.30pm.  Cooking seemed like an incredibly stupid idea at this time and after such a long drive, so off to the Chinese I went for a delicious plate of MSG's floating in grease.  You could hear your arteries hardening and you chewed.

My next Henry show was on the Friday night at Mudford.  Mudford is a funny little village just to the north of Yeovil and on the way to the delightfully named Queen Camel.  They obviouly have a strong community spirit in Mudford and each Friday night at their delighful village hall they have an "event" where the guests arrive and get stuck into a nice buffet, drink some wine and are then entertained by some speech, singer or other entertainer.  This was their first Friday night event of the summer of 2013 and they had invited me along to be the "turn".  We had a lovely evening, an absolutely wonderful audience, about 50 people in total and lots of laughs.  I was well fed and watered (Shepherd and Neame Spitfire to quench my thirst) and a splendid evening seemed to be had by all.

And so to the weekend, and I was off to Wales to see my folks.  It is my father's birthday this week (today actually - the 9th) and originally there was supposed to be a whole phalanx of us trotting down the M4 to the land of song, rugby and worried sheep, but as life has unfolded this week with it's ups, but to be honest mostly downs, the car got emptier until in the end it was just me trolling down the road.  But I have had a lovely time in the kind welcoming embrace of my family - a lovely meal over at the Daffodil Pub, a visit to the National Wool Museum (believe it or not) and lots of bargains at all the fantastic antiques shops in Newcastle Emlyn.  I am off to the delightfully named Gwber tomorrow for a Henry show with the local Probus club.  Should be fun.

Oh and Margaret Thatcher kicked the bucket.  Even as we speak she is trying to privatise hell.

So, Did I Miss Anything?

And then Kate Winslet turned into an anteater... as you do.

So where has naughty old Good King Hal been this last week or so?  No blog?  Surely not!  Well despite not much Henry-ing going on, I have been a busy boy.  My final Henry appearance before the week of half term was an evening appearance down at Saunton Golf Club near Braunton in Devon.  I had been booked to appear for a Rotary Club.  Now they were a very nice group, especially the chap who had booked me, however he dropped something of a bombshell the week before the show.  It was a black tie event and they expected me to turn up for the dinner in full DJ and bow tie.  Now I don't even own a normal tie, let alone and bow tie and DJ. When I explained this over the phone to the nice man he said "well don't worry, just wear a normal suit".  A suit?  Me?  I used to wear suits and ties when I was working down at Skandia in Southampton, but since I left the "ranks of shuffling graveyard people", to quote early Marillion, I needed a suit and tie about as much as a vegetarian needs a George Foreman Grill.  I considered looking at buying or renting a suit, but most circus tents were unavailable and to be honest there just wasn't enough material in the world to make one.  In the end it was decided (by me) that I would turn up in my usual Worzel Gummidge gear and then slip into my Henry costume for the meal, do my show, then get changed and clear off.  Which is what I did.

The drive down was much further than I expected, but was relatively easy.  I was warmly welcomed by all the Rotarians, got changed and then came out for the meal.  The food itself was lovely and then after several speeches it was me.  Not wishing to blow my own trumpet but I tore them up and went down a storm.  Loads of laughs and even a round of applause for one new gag I threw in about the recent discovery of Richard III's remains in a Leicester car park.  The gag was basically, if someone came into my office and said they'd found a Richard III in the car park I'd say, what do you expect, we are in Leicester after all.  Ba-doom-tish!  A big round of applause at the end and I was off, but with more than twice my agreed fee as they had enjoyed my show so much.  How very nice of them.

On the Saturday I drove to Tidworth in Wiltshire and the Royal Tank Regiment Family day.  I met up with my lovely Shelley, Sir Owen of Leeds Castle, Shelley's mum and my lovely son James who they'd picked up in Kent when Amanda brought him down.  Shelley's eldest son, Jamie is currently serving in the Royal Tank Regiment.  It was a fun day for all the family - tanks to clamber over, weapons to look at, soldiers to chat to and with the added fun for the kids of a roller coaster, dodgem cars, and various side stalls including shooting range and candy floss.  The food plus all this entertainment was completely free and James and Owen had a right old time of it, checking out the impressive vehicles and leaping all over them, then driving the dodgems until I imagine the national grid began to run out of electricity.  At the end of an exhausting day Shelley, Owen and Shelley's Mum headed back to Kent, while James and I struck out down to Somerset.

The following day James and I headed off to Newcastle Emlyn and a visit to my parents.  The weather was nice and my folks were pleased to see us, however for the first day James wasn't too well with a bad stomach, but he soon recovered.  We had some nice days out, including a visit to Aberaeron which is an absolutely delightful little seaside town.  Then on another day we went into Carmarthen and took James to see the movie "Wreck It Ralph" which he absolutely loved.  I then drove James back to Essex, then had a brief stop at Kent to see Shelley before shooting back to Somerset.

I was back on the 23rd for a visit to Bridport to see Justin Currie in concert at the Electric Palace Theatre.  I had bought two tickets in the hope of going along with Shelley, but she couldn't get a baby sitter for Sir Owen and sadly was stuck in Kent.  I had a spare ticket so I offered it to a few friends and ended up visiting the show with my friend Jill Beed who luckily lives about 20 yards from the front door of the Electric Palace. Her husband Mark cooked us a lovely meal before we went, so I was spoilt rotten.  As for the show?  Stunning.  If you ever get a chance to see Justin Currie live - go for it.  His song writing skills are such that he makes it look sickeningly easy and anyone who has ever had a bash at writing songs (myself included) will know just what a tortured experience it can be.  He kept the entire audience spell bound for nearly two hours, just himself and his guitar (and occasionally on piano) and I am already in the queue for the next tour.  Please check out this link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uuiy3_hjhkI for a clip from Saturday night of Justin performing "Always the Last to Know" which was brilliant and even brought a tear to the old King's eye.

Back to being Henry now that half term has gone.  Tuesday (my birthday) sees me back at St Mary's School at South Woodham Ferrers in Essex.  Watch this space for more.

Hever? Indeedly Sudeley...

The Knights of Royal England democratically deciding who has to buy the next round of drinks at the Pub.

And so the long fun summer of jousting starts to wind down.  The penultimate weekend started off with me down in Somerset with my son James.  I had been keeping him entertained for a few days by taking him for days out, or to the cinema to see Ice Age 4, or by simply allowing him to thrash me mercilessly at baseball and tennis on the Wii Sports game.

We drove up to Essex on the Wednesday evening and then intended to head down to Kent on the Thursday - which was the plan, but poor old James started suffering with a tooth ache on the Thursday morning, to such an extent that he willingly volunteered to go to the dentist the following morning (first available appointment), so therefore for the Friday show at Hever I was a small loud herald short for the day. And I really did miss having him there - and funnily enough Michelle Coda's daughter Vix was also unavailable that day.  So not a Herald in sight!  The Friday was a good fun show - quite staggeringly hot and airless, but the audience really joined in and enjoyed the show.  James was recovered enough from his dental torture to return to the fray on the Saturday. Well if you thought the Friday had been hot - you ain't seen nothing yet!  This Saturday simply sweltered with temperatures at Hever Castle at about 80 degrees.  It was unbearably hot in the Royal Box doing the commentary, so goodness knows what the poor jousters were going through in the middle. The audience seemed equally dulled by the blistering heat and were quiet, non-responsive and a bit lethargic to be honest.  It was hard work trying to whip up any enthusiasm with them at all.  But in that weather you really couldn't blame them at all.

I was already pre-booked for the Sunday at Sudeley Castle from some time ago, and so the jousting at Hever had to occur without Henry for once, but I did really miss being there with the jousters and Michelle.  Sudeley looked lovely in the early morning light and dappled sunshine.  Luckily the weather in the Cotswolds was about 10 degrees cooler than it had been the previous day at Hever.  So it was another wander round the grounds of Sudeley Castle - groups from the Tudor Roses and Tudor Gowns were also there, as was the Tudor music group Waytes and Measures, but James and I ploughed our own solo furrow for the vast majority of the day, meeting people and posing for photographs.  The weather was very kind on this final day at Sudeley for the summer, but I was slowed down with a stiff painful ankle, which plagued me for most of the afternoon and finally forced me to give up early on the day at about 3.30pm.

On leaving Sudeley, James and I drove out to Wales for a few days at Newcastle Emlyn with my parents, where we are still currently residing and being spoilt rotten.  Mind you, the pub my Dad and I went to in Cenarth last night was                              (censored on legal advice).

James and I head back to the South East late on Wednesday and will be back at Hever Castle for our final joust there on Friday and Saturday, and then off to Castle Hedingham in Essex for the Sunday and Monday for the final summer joust of 2012.  It has been a blast.

When Barry met Harry.

Good King Hal, testing the strength of a school table by lowering the Royal rump right on it.  The vicious swine.

Back on the road again means getting up at the crack of dawn, especially as the show was in Wales - Barry to be precise.  I had visited Barry once before, donkeys years ago and to be honest I couldn't remember it at all.  The drive up was quite pleasant and easy with the M5 being delightfully empty.  I got to to the Severn Crossing and now found that they were charging you £6 to go across.  £6?  How can they justify such a cost?  You should get a free balloon or a lollipop or something at that cost.  Anyway, I rolled up outside the school - Colcot Junior, and was very warmly welcomed by the lovely Liz Prescott, the teacher who had organised the event.

It was a lovely school with great kids.  The group was quite large - about 70 I suppose, and a mixture of years 3 and 4.  The morning ran it's usual course with great fun in the opening talk and a keenly contested quiz.  We broke for lunch and then things changed from it's normal run - first I was back in the hall for a Tudor banquet with a nice pottage, some gingered bread, marzipan sweetmeats and delicious spiced apple juice.  The children also entertained the King with some "knock knock" jokes - most of which I had heard to be honest, but there was one young lad who specialised in completely off the wall knock knock jokes such as "knock knock"  "Who's there?" "A chicken" "A chicken who?"  "A chicken trying to get to the other side of the road."  Cue total silence and tumble weed.  But he knew loads of them!  After the feast and the jokes the children then showed off their Tudor dancing skills which was great fun.  And from that we went straight into the usual Jousting tournament.  It was a loud entertaining affair finishing with one of those rarest things - a win for the gents!  Our score now rolls on to:

GENTLEMEN 16 - 26 LADIES

Colcot Junior was a fabulous memorable school and it was a delight to visit.  Now instead of heading back to Somerset I carried on down the M4 towards Newcastle Emlyn and my parents place.  On the Friday night we went out to dinner with my cousin George, who has just bought a fantastic big house near to my parents place.  George, his wife Alex and their two sons Arthur and Tom, joined myself and my mother and father at the Netpool Inn at St Dogmaels - what a fantastic pub.  We had the warmest welcome from the charming hosts and had a brilliant evening.  Another cousin of  mine - John Boorn and and his old pal Vic from Melbourne in Australia arrived on Saturday and it was great catching up with "Boorny" as he is affectionately known.  I spent a wonderful weekend with them all, got to catch up with my sister Sue and her other half Ian as well.  It was also nice to see some warm weather for a change as well.  I drove back to Somerset this morning and am amazed to find myself sitting here with the windows of the flat wide open and it actually feels like Spring has finally arrived.  And about time too...

Penwythnos gwyllt yng Nghymru. (Oh a sioe yn Henffordd).

The sort of image that was once banned by the Geneva Convention.

Now try saying the title of this blog entry when you've had a few. Not easy is it. Mind you, it's not easy when you're sober either to be honest. I think the Welsh language sometimes goes out of it's way to be awkward. Last Thursday our story begins, with an early rise and a drive up to Hereford for a second visit to the lovely Riverside School there. I last visited this school back in 2010 and it was just in the final throes of being built back then. Now, in early 2012 it is complete and looks magnificent. It was a big group today, about 60+ pupils but all very lively and articulate. They were very much up for the day and to be honest had to be reined in a little from time to time. But I would always much rather have that scenario, than the one of them sitting in stony silence.

The morning passed fairly quickly, with a slightly extended morning break to allow the school to have an assembly. Lunch was a beef stir fry with noodles, which was surprisingly tasty for a school dinner. Usually there isn't enough salt in one of the meals to harm even the wimpiest of slugs, but this meal was very well seasoned and edible. The afternoon was loud and over-excitable and culminated in another thrilling joust which was won, inevitably it seems, by the Ladies AGAIN. This now makes the score:

GENTLEMEN 11 - 14 LADIES

They are escaping. No doubt about it. On leaving the school at about 3.15pm, I was not to head back down the jolly old M5 and home to Somerset - no! I was heading back out to Newcastle Emlyn for a long weekend being spoilt by my parents at their home. I had seen them at Christmas, but had been with my son who takes up most of my time, and my Father was not particularly well, so I wanted to see them and spend a bit more time with them. They had other guests staying with them - their old friends from Essex, Mike and Ros Bloomfield. We had a lovely weekend with a long day out over to Tenby where I managed to get yet more post cards of the Edwardian actress Gertie Millar to add to my ever increasing collection, and then the following day driving to the wonderfully named village of Gwber (pronounced Goober, as in "Goober and the Ghost Chasers" - how many of you remember THAT little pearl of retro-TV?)where we had a delicious lunch at the brilliant Flat Rock Restaurant. I drove back to Somerset on the Monday morning.

Tonight is Wassail night back at Barrington Court, but it is a much more laid back small affair this year, with attendance really only by invite only. I am then back to being Henry again on Thursday with a return visit to Blandford Camp in Dorset and a show at the Downlands School.

Happy Hever After!

(left) Good King Hal and Anne Boleyn, having a searingly tender moment at Hever Castle whilst standing next to Wee Jimmie Kranky. In a tabard.

This has been a very hectic couple of weeks. We begin last Saturday when I did a "Walky Talky" visit to Barrington Court. It was a lovely day - bright and sunny, and not too hot. I spent an hour or so wandering round the delightful gardens of this lovely house, and then did another performance of my one man show "Henry's Horrid History" just as I had done at the Somerton Festival the previous evening. It was another great show - lots of laughs from a packed audience and a long ringing round of applause at the end. Lovely! From Barrington I headed straight up the M5, then over the Severn Bridge and into wild Welsh Wales and to my parent's house in Newcastle Emlyn. It was a big family get-together of both my sisters and their "other half's" (namely Ian and Julian) for my eldest sister, Susan's birthday on July 13th.

It was so nice being together as a family again and we spent the week having laughs, and probably eating and drinking a bit too much. We had a fabulous meal on the Tuesday at the Daffodil Inn at Penriwllan where my old friend Carole Davey (now Carole Evans!) from Skandia now works - though not for much longer as she is leaving as of this weekend (Stay in touch, Carole!). Before too long it was the last night, and we had a final blow out meal cooked by my sister, Cathy - fish pie for the majority of people there, but for me (who doesn't really like fish) a quite stunning home made burrito. Delicious!

On the Thursday I drove back to Essex to spend a couple of days with my precious lovely son, James. It was lovely to see him and he is growing so fast. On the Friday I was back to being Henry again at a new school for me. Arthur Bugler Junior School has a wonderful name and is based in Stanford-le-Hope near Basildon. It is a delightful school with some brilliant kids there, great fun and lots of laughs. The teachers were a delight as well and made me most welcome. The morning session was a cracker - it just seemed to whizz past at a staggering rate of knots. After lunch it was back in the hall and the noise just got louder and louder, until we reached an absolute crescendo with a brilliant jousting tournament. This culminated in a win for the Gentlemen in a very closely fought finale. This makes, what I think will be the final score for this year as:

GENTLEMEN 26 - 31 LADIES

Well done, Ladies. A very commendable win for the second year running.

Saturday morning I was down to Hever Castle near Edenbridge in Kent for a jousting tournament with Jeremy Richardson's Knights of Royal England team that I had worked with before at Leeds Castle. I had had one bit of trouble at the beginning as the original lady who was to work with me at Hever as Anne Boleyn sadly couldn't make it, so I ended up phoning round loads of friends trying to see if anyone was free at very short notice to don a Tudor dress and be my wife for the weekend! Unsurprisingly there were very few takers! However, I phoned my dear old friend Michelle Coda to see if she knew anyone, but she didn't, but eventually after some cajoling from me she agreed to come down to Hever and be Anne for me! And she looked brilliant as you can see from the picture above. It was good to see the Jousters again and everyone at Hever made us very welcome. On the first day there was no Roland as master of ceremonies, but Jeremy had brought along a new man for his first appearance. He did very well for a first show, but struggled to remember all the characters names, bless him. The weather was a bit rotten when we first arrived, but cheered up a little in the afternoon. We only had a small crowd for the show with people obviously put off by the bad weather. However, if we thought that the weather was a bit pants on the Saturday it was nothing compared to Sunday. It was like a monsoon and Michelle and I got absolutely soaked during the afternoon show. Michelle's seriously cute daughter Vicky came along on both days and played our "lady in waiting" dressed in a tabard! It was a great couple of days and I am delighted to say Michelle and I will be back at Hever Castle again next weekend for two days more of jousting. I have promised Michelle the weather will be better, and she has my full permission to beat me senseless with a stale French baguette if it isn't. I'd better keep an eye on the long range weather forecast, and ensure all French baguettes near Hever Castle are fresh.

West Pennard

My son James after asking me for an ice cream at Cilgerran Castle. Treat 'em mean, folks...

Easter holidays had been fun. I had been up to Essex for a few days with Amanda and James, taking James to see "Gnomeo and Juliet" which he loved! Next he and I headed down to Wales for a few days with my parents at Newcastle Emlyn. Again, we had a fine time including another cinema trip to see "Rio" and also to a place called Clerkenhill Adventure Farm where you can take part in Frisbee golf, amongst other things, and the beautiful Cilgerran Castle as you can see above. Finally it was time for me to head back to Somerset and face the stark reality of dressing up as a Tudor despot for a living... And if you can find a more contradictory end to a sentence I will pay you!

West Pennard was my first port of call after Easter. I love West Pennard - it is a fantastic school and it is always good to see Alex Wheat, the class teacher I deal with, and the slightly insane but wonderfully friendly Ian Gouge. My drive over wasn't very good - everything that could possibly slow me down did! Tractors, lorries, caravans - you name it, I copped it. By the time I got to the school the children were already arriving and the small parking area for staff cars was packed. I had nowhere else to go other than park in one of the two disabled parking bays. I left a note on the dashboard to the effect that there was nowhere else for me to put the car and I couldn't eat it, so therefore here I was parked and if anyone objected and wanted me to move I would be happy to.

The day went quite well - it was a bit difficult as the group this day, this was their first of the Tudor curriculum, so some of my jokes and asides did fly over their heads and splat on the walls behind them. The morning finished with a funny question and answer session in the classroom. Lunch was an oddity called a Beany Blast, or something and was a pie made with baked beans and cheese, and was surprisingly delicious. The afternoon session was typically rumbustious and we had great fun dragging Ian Gouge out of his year 6 class and putting him in the stocks! The jousting ended with a win for the Gentlemen - at last! This now makes the ongoing score:

GENTLEMEN 21 - 26 LADIES

Wonderful stuff.

Now, unless you have been living under a rock you might just have noticed that there is a Royal Wedding going on this Friday. Therefore to help celebrate this tomorrow I am off to Preston Junior School in Yeovil for a morning appearance at their school to help the children celebrate the day. Should be fun. All this fuss over one Royal Wedding - I had SIX! Beat that! (Oh, and six Mother in Laws...)

Cwmduad (and that's not a spelling mistake)

Good King Hal playing spot the castle. And failing, obviously.

I had originally been invited out to Cwmduad near Carmarthen in Wales back in September, however the group that had booked me suddenly realised that most of their members and potential audience were still on holiday, so the show was postponed for two months. So on the Friday just gone I drove down to Newcastle Emlyn, where my parents now live, which is only about 10 miles north of Cwmduad. I arrived on Friday at about lunch time and joined my parents, and my sister Susan for a bite to eat at Harrison's Cafe in Newcastle Emlyn - trust me on this, you would be well worth your while seeking this place out. Great food and always a warm welcome. It was great to see my sister Sue just back from a Rubinoos spotting trip to San Francisco (and you thought I was weird)...

On the Saturday morning my father and I drove down to Cwmduad to see if we could find the Community Centre Hall where I was to do my show that evening. I also had some stuff to post from sales on Ebay and there was a post office in Cwmduad so we could kill two birds with one large parcel. Or something like that. The drive down to Cwmduad from Newcastle Emlyn is nice at the best of times, but this time of year it is wonderful. The trees are a russet red and crowd in round the edges of the Teifi River that meanders alongside the road as you drive along. Lovely! In Cwmduad we popped into the Post Office which is situated in a local B&B. Three people were sitting chatting in the breakfast area. As I walked in one of the men immediately said "Hello Michael!" which astounded me. It turned out these lovely people in the B&B were the organisers for this evening's "Henry VIII" event! As I had pulled up in my father's car outside they had all agreed I just had to be the same bloke they had been talking to via email! After posting my stuff we went up to the Community Hall with them to see how it was set up. The community had done themselves proud, the hall was small, but was brilliantly set out with long tables, secluded lighting, tapestries, heraldic shields and everything else you could imagine for a Tudor banquet. It was going to be a good evening.

With the afternoon to kill, my father and I went down to see the mighty Newcastle Emlyn FC in their latest home match. A humongous crowd of about 25 had turned up and I graciously offered to pay the entrance fee of £2 for me and £1 for my father as an OAP. I told him he could get the tickets next time we go to the San Siro in Milan. The match was against the awesome Newport YMCA, so we knew Newcastle Emlyn should really walk this one. After just 1 minute, Newcastle Emlyn burst through and scored a fabulous opening goal so it was obvious this match was going to be very one sided. And it was. Newport YMCA won 6-1. Newcastle Emlyn were awful and could barely string two passes together and succeeded in making Newport YMCA look like Brazil. With 10 minutes to go, my Father and I were the only two mugs still sitting in the tiny grandstand. Everyone else had given up and gone. I can't wait to go back and see them again!

In the evening, with tickets for the event now purchased for my parents, I drove down to Cwmduad. It was a lovely evening, a great turn out, about 50+ people, many of them in wonderful medieval fancy dress. I was at the head of the table on a grand throne and with the others gathered around me. The meal was a fine rustic vegetable soup to begin, then roast pork rolls with apple sauce, crackling, and stuffing, and then finishing with apple pie. I was on between the pork roll and the apple pie (which sounds messy, but trust me it was OK) and the talk seemed to go really well. All the people made me very welcome, had worked incredibly hard and had made the whole evening a roaring success. Pats on the back all round.

Sunday I had lunch with my parents at Sue and Ian's place (sister and other half, if you were wondering), which was an indescribably tasty vegetarian cottage pie, followed by an apple pie with custard, which was brought alive with some zesty lemon. Great stuff. After that, I sat in the car like Buddha and drove back to Somerset.

This week I am off to Essex today, then tomorrow I am up to Norfolk for two days, then back down to Kent for an appearance at Leeds Castle on Friday night for BBC1's Children in Need. Turn on, tune in and don't blink, cos you might miss me!

Rain, Summer Holidays, Chickens & a Guinea Pig

Enough said, really!

I have a new string to my bow - oh yes. No longer am I just a former telephone installer, AS400 operator, Dad and mock Tudor Monarch - I am now officially the world's worst chicken keeper. With the summer holidays upon us I had the pleasure of looking after my son full time for a few weeks - something I always look forward to. It was decided pretty early on that James and I would be spending a large part of this time down in Wales at Newcastle Emlyn with my parents, known to James as Nanna and Bapa. So armed to the teeth with James' PSP, DS and Nintendo Wii (just what you need when visiting one of the most beautiful countries in the UK!) we struck out west. The majority of our time would be spent at leisure doing proper holiday things, but we had a period of a few days looking after my sister's small holding near Cynwyl Elfed, and in particular, her chickens. James was very excited about this, but it was an excitement I was pretty sure would wear off after a couple of days of muddy toil.

The week began with blazing sunshine and heat, so of course one of the first places we took James was the cinema to see Toy Story 3 - in 3D. This was at the Apollo Cinema in Carmarthen, which if you have never visited, you really must as it is a wonderful place. James, his Nanna and I all donned our snazzy 3D glasses and thoroughly enjoyed the film - a work of genius. It was just a shame the support film, usually one of Pixar's strong points, was so utterly crap. Other visits included a day trip to Poppit Sands near Cardigan where we built a sand castle and then flew a kite in the strong breeze - great fun, stopping for excellent fish and chips at St Dogmael's (a shop called Bowens) on the way back. We discovered a great smoothie and ice cream bar in Carmarthen called Cowpots (http://cowpotsicecream.co.uk/) which I cannot recommend strongly enough. On another day we went back down to Laugharne, Dylan Thomas' stamping ground, and had tea at the delightful Owl and the Pussycat Restaurant. I met up with my old Skandia colleague Carole Davey again at her lovely pub/restaurant The Daffodil at Penrhiwllan (see their website here http://www.daffodilinn.co.uk/) for a fine meal. James carried on his valiant efforts to teach Nanna how to play Super Mario Brothers on the Wii console, which to give her her due, she was really getting the hang of it by the time we came to leave! James also took great delight in snuggling up with his Nanna to watch his favourite Indiana Jones movies of an evening on DVD. And a really big shout out to Harrison's Cafe in Newcastle Emlyn which is friendly, welcoming and has the most charming proprietress (if that is even a word) you could ever wish to meet. She is also very easy on the eye - another winner as far as James and I are concerned!

Soon it was time for James and I to become chicken wranglers. The balmy summer weather had long since scarpered and our first night of trying to get the chickens into their run took place during the Welsh equivalent of Hurricane Catrina, in the near pitch dark on a small holding which was doing a very passable impression of the battle field of Passchendale transferred to the north face of the Eiger. We slipped, we slid, we slithered. James cried. I swore a lot and the chickens went "bwock? bwo-ock?" but we did eventually get the feathery buggers in their home. James insisted on going into the run to put them to bed as it was slippery as hell in there and "you might hurt yourself, Daddy". Bless him. I think he was just worried that if I fell over he wouldn't have a snowballs chance in hell of levering me into an upright position again. So we looked after all 10 chickens, Buffy the goose, Bear and Marley the cats, and even Ted the shaggy guinea pig. And do you know what? James NEVER got bored of it once! He loved it! Oh sure we had some bad moments - the day I nearly broke my hip when I slipped and twisted in one agonising movement on the steeply sloping bank down to the chicken run, and the time James had collected six eggs, put them in his basket and then promptly slipped over and fell on them. He was devastated poor little mite. "I'm so sorry!" he kept saying, but I re-assured him and despite his upset and the fact he was caked in mud he was soon ready for more chicken related fun. Each night when he finally locked the door on the chickens he'd shout "Bingo!" We cocked up on a few things - I put the chicken's water back in the wrong place on the last morning causing it to drain out of their drinker so that when Sue got back that afternoon the poor chookies had no water - just mud. I had also managed to do something to their food hopper which meant their feed wasn't coming out properly. If chickens were covered by the NSPCC I'd be in prison by now... But all in all, for first time small holders I think James and I did pretty well.

I drove James back to Essex on Monday of this week and he had a lovely cuddly reunion with his Mum. I drove back to Somerset yesterday and I am missing him so much. He is my pride, my joy and my love. I feel like I have lost a limb today and I really can't wait to see him again.

Henry VIII returns this weekend on the Bank Holiday Monday where I will be appearing at Barrington Court for a garden walkabout. Come and meet the King between 12 noon and 4pm.

Not Six Wives - Just One Happy Couple!

My father, looking amazed as, exactly as it was 50 years ago a ventriloquist has just shouted "I do" and he's had his chips.

A wonderful weekend has just been had! It was my parent's 50th wedding anniversary celebrations in Wales. They re-newed their vows on Friday 11th June, exactly 50 years to the day from their original ceremony, with my cousin Jack Elwin officiating, exactly as he did back in 1960! We had dinner as a big group on the Friday evening at the wonderful Emlyn Arms Hotel in central Newcastle Emlyn. Then on the Saturday there was a big party at their house with a multitude of guests - all friends or relatives, some of whom we hadn't seen for years. It was a truly magical weekend and proved just how strong my parents love is for each other, even after all these years. They are an inspiration to us all.

On the Sunday they travelled to my place in Somerset and then on the Monday morning I drove them down to Southampton and the Queen Mary 2! They are now on their new honeymoon sailing round the beautiful fjords of Norway. Fantastic! And here are some more photos of the great weekend. The next Henry outing is this Friday and a return visit to Thundersley Junior in Essex.

Cathy Martin revealing how many crates of champagne she has just drunk.

Many of my parents friends "having it large" at the 50th Anniversary party.

A Tudor King, soon to upgrade to being a Four-Door King.

Elmhurst Junior, Aylesbury

Good King Hal, explaining nicely to a youngster that pointing and laughing at Anne of Cleves is HIS job, and no one elses...

After all the rushing about at the end of last week, on Saturday, just for a change I did lots of rushing about. I was up early and out of the door to drive up to Wales and visit my parents at Newcastle Emlyn as they had some old friends from Essex staying, Ros and Mike Bloomfield from Great Dunmow. I arrived in time for brekkie, which was pretty good going. After this, and with the weather being bright and not too chilly, in the afternoon we drove up to the pretty waterfalls at Cenarth for a wander about. We had a wander about, marvelled at the beauty of the waterfalls and snapped a few photos. Like this one:

The falls at Cenarth, and not a coracle in sight.

We went back to my parents place and were then joined by my sister Sue and her other half Ian before heading out for dinner. We went to a lovely little pub/restaurant called The Daffodil in the village of Penrhiwllan (try saying that to a taxi driver when you've had a few). Going up to order some drinks I suddenly realised that I recognised the girl working behind the bar - her name was Carol and I used to work with her at Skandia Life in Southampton, what seems like a lifetime ago. How weird is life? You go all the way to the back of beyond in a small Welsh village, pick a restaurant almost at random and find someone you used to work with in a city hundreds of miles away working at the restaurant! Just to prove that this event really happened, here is a truly horrific photo of me with the lovely Carol.

Mike Farley (Good King Hal) and Carol, both former Skandia employees, hiding in Wales during the official opening of Mr Farley's second chin.

We had a fantastic meal and Carol and her staff treated us like Royalty, which happens to me all the time of course. All too soon it was Sunday and I was heading back to Somerset. Monday morning saw me up at the crack of dawn and hacking down the now familiarly dark A303 towards a visit to a new school - Elmhurst Junior in the town of Aylesbury, famous for it's ducks and Marillion - and in that order. I was greeted by the charming deputy head, a very nice Welshman from Pembrokeshire. It was a big group today- about 100 children, covering the year groups 3, 4 and 5. We had a really fun exciting day - lots of laughs for the children in the morning, some great Tudor knowledge on display and some really cool teachers - especially the lovely blond lady I pretended to behead and then added insult to injury by suggesting her Tudor outfit made her look like a crew member of the USS Enterprise in Star Trek. After a delicious lunch we were back in the hall. I had the delight of putting Mrs De Wolfe, the head teacher in the stocks, before we had a riotous jousting session. Now I thought they had been noisy at Chandlers Ford on Friday but today - wow. Just deafening. They roared, they cheered, they screamed - it was ear mufflingly noisy! And what a tournament! Another win for the gents!

GENTLEMEN 3 - 7 LADIES

Well done guys, that looks a bit better. The rest of the school joined us just after the joust for a quick get together and few more laughs, but then I was on my way. I finally got home to Crewkerne just after 6pm and I am very grateful that I have tomorrow off. However, tomorrow evening is the annual National Trust Pub Quiz over at Barrington with me hosting it again at the Royal Oak Pub. Should be fun. My next Henry show is on Wednesday at the lovely Parkfield Junior in Taunton.

Paulton and Newcastle Emlyn!

Tuesday 23rd June saw a return visit for me to Paulton Junior in Paulton on the southern outskirts of Bristol. I had visited this school last year and it had been a belter, and this time was no different - a fabulous day! The children were great, very enthusiastic and loud, and the teachers were as ever friendly and pleasant. It was a warm muggy day with rain falling on my arrival, the sun shone later but it was very close. On finishing I had a great reception from the children (the ladies had won a brilliantly close jousting tournament) and was off and packing the car. I was pretty tired after so many shows in such a short space of time, but my fun was only just beginning!

My parents have been trying to move away from Essex for about the last 2 years. Finally, it would seem, they had achieved their goal. They had lived in the village of Mountnessing since 1965, my Mother had been there since about 1955, but now they had found their dream home for their retirement years in the town of Newcastle Emlyn in Wales, close to where my sister Sue had lived for the previous 10 years. I travelled down to Wales on the Wednesday and we began the move in earnest on the Thursday. It was hard work but very rewarding. The area they have moved to is delightful and their new house is gorgeous. Never in the field of Human removals, have so many boxes been opened by so few people in such a short space of time. Relief was garnered in dinner at the Emlyn Arms on a couple of nights - just delightful. We had our moments of rest as well, including on Saturday driving all the way down to Laugharne to the wonderful Owl and the Pussycat cafe (encountering, of all things, a tractor rally on the way)but when we got there we found it was closed. We ate at the Green Room Cafe instead, which was equally good. Both my sisters were due to come and help out my parents, but Sue has a new "chap" and was somewhat distracted, and my poor sister Cath in Kent was due to come and help but her lovely old dog Sam was taken seriously ill and had sadly, eventually had to be put down. It brought the weekend move to a somewhat muted end. Sam was a lovely dog and a real character. Cathy and Julian loved him very much and he will be sorely missed.

I headed back to Somerset today and will be travelling to the South East tomorrow for a show at Wandsworth on Wednesday and another in Norfolk on Friday. The weather forecast is a little scary looking, but it should be OK.