CHRISTMAS PLAYLIST Day 7 CHRISTMAS DAY

Happy Christmas everyone!   

For Christmas Day, I offer you one of my favourite festive songs which I'm pleased to have heard many times on the radio this year for some reason - it's Chrissie Hynde!

 

CHRISTMAS PLAYLIST Day 6

Just finished mopping up after the first round of storms.  Now enjoying deceptively and ominously beautiful sunshine, as we await the next onslaught.  So, for Christmas Eve, and for all those who are fed up with Christmas already!  Here is Blink 182.

CRISTMAS PLAYLIST Day 5

For today an alternative, but lovely, Christmas song  from Isobel Cambell and Mark Lanegan (with thanks to Jo Wiley for finding this for me). 

  

CHRISTMAS PLAYLIST Day 4

Today it’s time for some cool with Eels.

CHRISTMAS PLAYLIST Day 3

OK, today we slow it down a touch with some funk – Santa Wants Some Lovin’.  Get down, Albert King.

CHRISTMAS PLAYLIST Day 2

Today, in preparation for the last shopping weekend before Christmas, this high speed version of the 1961 hit by the 5, 6, 7, 8s.  Yeah, go Lockn Lol Santa.

CHRISTMAS WEEK MUSIC

Here’s my run up to Christmas playlist.  Nothing beats the wall of sound when it comes to Christmas songs.  So, first, Bob B Sox and the Blue Jeans with  Bells of St Marys

Just the way a carol should be – full of happiness, just urging you to dance around the tree, and a drummer who’s really enjoyed the  mulled wine.

FOLLOWING YONDER STAR WARS

This is the Churchill Centre at Brighton today.

 

And don't you love these!  This is a Boba Fett snowflake.

 And a Chewbacca snowflake!

FARE GAME

One of the main events in Haslemere at Christmas is the Christmas Fair.  It's that time when we all begin to get Christmassy and all the local producers gather to display (and hopefully sell) their festive wares - exotic pies of wild boar, pigeon, mallard, etc, local cheeses from Tunworth to Winslade, from Norbury to Tornegus and from Duddleswell to Olde Sussex, and all the modern produce too - curry sauces, chutneys and jams, not to mention gifts and decorations.  Needless to say, no need to buy lunch that day!

Here's part of the High Street

 

and some very Surrey stalls.

Hemingways gets into the mood

as does my favourite High Street shop

Now we just await the panto season to begin.  Here are two of the actors getting us all into the mood.

Even the cyclists are in the mood.

PARENT CHRISTMAS

Slightly worrying discovery this year.  Bumped into who I thought was Father Christmas in Exeter.  Notice the shoes . . .

JINGLE BELLES AND XMAS BEAUX

I wish a very happy Christmas to all who read this.  May Santa bring you all you wish for (except of course the naughty ones – you know who you are . . .).  Here are some less common Christmas songs for you.

Radical Tracks #44

In the run-up to Christmas, we have frequently been hearing the 1981 song Christmas Wrapping by The Waitresses which seems to have had a bit of a revival this year.  And jolly good that is too!  But here’s a less rappy (or wrappy) cover by the Spice Girls, which I confess I also quite like.

Another record that is sometimes played at this time of year is Hymn, the Barclay James Harvest song from 1977.  This is because it is often misinterpreted as Christmas song, but it’s actually a paean to the likes of Jimi Hendrix and Jim Morrison and a song against drug use.  But, there,  it sounds as though it ought to be  Christmas song.

Then, finally, in memory if the late great Poly Styrene, I offer you Black Christmas from 2010.

DREAMING OF A WET CHRISTMAS

Well, I got home safely from the West Country.

It was rather odd actually - we had a couple of really nice sunny days and not a lot of rain at all.  We also went shopping in Exeter, where there have been terrible floods, but saw nothing of that.  In fact, although part of the road to and from Devon had been flooded, it wasn't when we passed through.  At one point, we crossed the River Yarty and the River Exe and were shocked to see that they have become one river and, closer to home, through parts of Hampshire, it felt as though we were driving over the Florida Cays with sea on all sides of us.  But otherwise no signs of flooded townships.

The flood warnings are still out though and many people will this year have a rather damp home in which to enjoy their Christmas and I have seen pubs on television that have had to cancel parties and will have to remain closed over Christmas because of flooding.  I wish all of those affected as happy a family time as they can manage over the next few days and hope for a better time for them in 2013.

Similarly, I hope all those trying to travel by train and public transport will succeed in getting home for Christmas as we did.

We have wrapped all the presents and packed the hamper to take to children's house tomorrow.  So now we just have to drink another bottle and then stagger along to the carol service.

GOOSE ALREADY FAT

Yesterday we took the grandkids to meet Father Christmas.  It was rather a well-organised event, with tea and games, followed by Santa actually stopping by for a chat with each child, before taking them off to his grotto (ie the pile of gifts at the other end of the tea shop), where kids chose their own presents.

The only downside was the usual one with kids - they were served fish fingers, pizza and chips, while we had to make to do with turkey sandwiches, mince pies and cake.  Bah!



Have just discovered nothing's happening for the next few days, so are driving off somewhere.  See you later!

THE GORGE AT ALFRISTON

I met up with some schoolfriends on Monday for a pre-Christmas lunch.  This meeting had three objectives - 1) to meet my old friends again (we actually meet fairly regularly, so perhaps only 2 objectives), 2) to get into the festive spirit (this is the eighth Christmas celebration I have been to so far, so perhaps only 1 objective) and 3) to eat something other than sausage rolls and mince pies which I seem to have lived on for the last couple of weeks.  But actually I could have stayed at home to eat something other than party food.  OK, maybe this was just another excuse for a party.

Anyway, we met up at The George in Alfriston.  I have mentioned this village before; it has a population of less than 800, but boasts an almost unspoilt mediaeval High Street, including three pubs.  This is the 15th century post office.  The windows are a modern addition (18th century).



This is the oldest building, The Star, built in the 14th century, but not made an inn until the 16th century.



It used to be used by smugglers, hence the old ship's figurehead outside.  And below is The Smugglers, which I assume was so named to distract the authorities from The Star.  It was built 10 years later than The Star and, similarly, was not an inn for a 100 years or so.



I think the silly present name was added quite recently.  We went to the oldest pub in Alfriston, The George.  This was built as an inn in the 16th century.



This is the main bar.



We enjoyed all the usual festive stuff - pheasant, venison, linguine (can't remember why we had that now), fish and chips, etc.  A jolly good time was had by all and we all liked the figgy pudding.

THINGS I LEARNED AT CHRISTMAS

Don't stand on a chair to hang decorations without first looking up.

IN THE SHPIRIT OF CHRISHMASH

I thought I would share with you this recipe for Vodka Christmas Cake that a friend just sent me.

Ingredients:
1 cup sugar
1 tsp. baking powder
1 cup water
1 tsp. salt
1 cup brown sugar
Lemon juice
4 large eggs
Nuts
1 bottle Vodka
2 cups dried fruit.

Instructions: Sample a cup of Vodka first to check the quality.  Then take a large bowl.  Just check the Vodka again to be absolutely sure.  Then repeat.  Turn on the electric mixer.  Beat one cup of butter in a large bowl until fluffy.  Add 1 teaspoon of sugar.  Beat again.  At this point, it is best to make sure the Vodka is still OK.  So try another cup just in case.  Turn off the mixerer thingy.  Break 2 eggs and add to the bowl.  Chuck in the cup of dried fruit.  Pick the fruit up off the floor, wash it and count it back into the bowl a piece at a time to make sure you didn't miss any.

Mix on the turner.  If the fried druit gets stuck in the beaterers, pry it loose with a drewscriver.  Shample the Vodka again here to tesht for tonsisticitity.  Next, sift 2 cupsh of salt, or something.  Check the Vodka again.  Now crap shift the lemon juicsh and strain your nutsh.  Add one table.  Add a shpoon of sugar, or anything you can find really.

Greash the oven.  Turn the cake tin 360 degreesh for shome reason.  Don't forget to beat off the turner.  Throw the bowl out the window.  Finish the Vodka and wipe the counter with the cat.

Happy Chrishimash!

FOR BITTER AND FOR WURST

We went up to London yesterday to see the lights:



Oh, OK.  Here's a pic of Harrods.



Eventually we got to Hyde Park.  There is a German Christmas market there at the moment which is breathtaking in its scale. Of course we weren't the only ones to visit.



But I still found it incredible that all this stuff had been brought over from Germany for our Christmas. 



And not just equipment, but German staff and food and drink too.



And so, naturally enough, we went straight here.




Then we went to see all the rides - things which went up and down to and from vast heights and round and round at great speed and potentially did terrible things to our bratwursts.  Here's my view of the rides.



In fact, I think this was my favourite ride.



The evening was finished off with Amarula lattes.  A rather good time had by all.  I'm beginning to enjoy Christmas.  Three parties to squeeze in tomorrow though; wish me luck.

IT'S BEGINNING TO FEEL A LOT LIKE CHRISTMAS

Just back from the shops.  Bought a box of crackers, a tub of cheese footballs, and a family sized pack of Alka-Seltzer, Imodium, Paracetamol and blackcurrant flavour Dioralyte.  Mmmmm!

FARE DOS

Every town we visited in the last few days seems to have had a Christmas market.  They are all much the same - local produce to sample, sausages and cakes to eat, mulled wine to drink.  But I'm not bored with them yet . . .

This is the cheese man at Petersfield Christmas market.

It was beginning to get colder when we went to our own Haslemere market.

Since then, we have had snow on two consecutive days.  Doesn't bode well for when winter is properly upon us.

The beauty of Christmas markets though (apart from eating and drinking) is that you can buy all your Christmas goodies.  I splashed out on a Christmas cake.

 

SKIN AND BONES TURNED INTO SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL

This is no good.  The whole point about blogging is to make a daily record of things wot you do and wot you think, etc.  I have failed.  Here follow the excuses.

A couple of weeks or so ago, I ate something that did some sort of damage to my insides.  I thought I had recovered from it a few days later, but an innocent mince pie shortly after set it all off again.  But it was worse.  The docs are onto it now though and even I now think I’ll probably live.

I’m not very often ill.  Well, I have very bad manflu most winters (despite my flu jab).  In fact I get it much worse than anyone else in the world.  But, apart from that, I am rudely healthy.  Maybe because of that, because I don’t know what it’s like to experience real pain, I suffer excruciating agonies from little things like the odd stubbed toe, or - you know how sometimes you are walking through a doorway, carefree, incautious, swinging your arms, and you catch your wrist on the doorhandle?  I’ve done that and practically died from the suffering.  So I thought, you’re always making a fuss, everybody has these little knocks and spills and just brushes them off, this is just tummy ache, no blood or bones sticking out, live with it.

But, actually, I think every internal organ in my body was inflamed and protesting.  I tried to eat something small and digestible, but the digestion process was worse than the hunger.  It was as if one of the cogs had slipped off its mountings and was causing all the moving parts to clunk and grind off-centre.  Since I didn’t want that to happen, I didn’t eat for a bit.  Even drinking seemed to cause the gears to mesh wrongly.  You could hear them from a mile away.

I couldn’t not eat Christmas lunch on Christmas Day though, so, although nothing had passed my lips for two days, I had a taster plate of turkey and sprouts and other yummy stuff and . . . seemed to get through it OK.  There was no real pain now, but the aching didn’t go away.  And lying down at night to sleep was as uncomfortable as lying on a concrete floor.  (Yes, but only once, when I was younger.  Murder on the knees!).  Then suddenly I went yellow.  It was a bit of a shock.  I’d been white and pink and red and brown and even green before, but never yellow.  She thought I looked awful.  But beauty is in the eye of the beholder and Mrs Chang down the chippy commented on how well I looked when I popped in for our Christmas supper treat.  So I went to the doctors.

I’ve now had lots of poking around the abdomen, a vast selection of blood tests, a urine test (if anyone’s interested, it was a most impressive teak colour), and am due in the hospital again for some other tests in a few days.  The doc has actually rung me up twice in the last week (which is supposed to make me feel better, I’m sure, but makes me a little uneasy).

So – good news.  I stopped taking handfuls of paracetamol every couple of hours some three days ago.  I can get off to sleep now in a certain position, if I hold my teddy slightly differently, and sleep though half the night comfortably.  I can eat normally now, provided it’s porridge or chicken broth.  I had a spot of venison stew tonight, rather than see all that lovely food thrown away; it was delicious and, as I write, no protest movements down there.  I have rediscovered Ribena.  Today, for the first time for a while, I went outside (it was raining, but it was so nice to get out and DO something that I didn’t care) and I pruned our cherry tree.  All being well tomorrow, I shall finish off the front garden maintenance before the winter comes.  That really is a major advance from sitting on the sofa, feeling sorry for myself, and watching b/w movies (= dozing) all day.

On the debit side – I haven’t had any alcohol for 2 weeks, not even a drop of all that fabulous stuff I got in for Christmas.  But actually I felt so happy to see everyone else enjoying it, (and I was part of it) that I haven’t really regretted the abstinence.  I haven’t had any coffee either.  That’s more of a lifestyle problem.  I really haven’t had any urge to drink anything but Ribena for the last fortnight, yet they don’t serve it, sadly, at Hemingways or Mirabelles, so I haven’t been there either.  I bet Norma has been serving someone else while I’m away (fickle hussy).  No fry-ups either, though I have to say, I could do justice to a full English, given the courage.  But my derring-do has evaporated and I’m stuck in the safety of the chicken broth trench for the moment.  Oh, I scrambled some eggs this morning and ate those avariciously without regression.  That’s another plus point, isn’t it.

Anyway, there we are, that’s what I’ve been doing.  Or not doing.  I became horribly and frighteningly weak too, which is my real excuse for not visiting here.  Just walking to the living room sofa was enough to send me into a sort or narcolepsy, never mind typing, or thinking even.  Anyway, as you can see, especially if you measure health by number of words, I’m improving.  I’d like to be less conscious of my internal organs.  I’d like to do something constructive without feeling depressed at the thought or exhausted after.  I’d like to eat some battered sausages and chips and drink with them a nice bottle of Rioja.  I'd like to be pink again.  But that’s enough of my New Year Resolutions.  What are yours?  

Right, now to get back into this blogging thing.

Please don’t send condolences or positive messages; I’m sure I’m OK.  I probably just need a holiday.