All the B's

There seems to be a bit of a theme for my holiday this week. It started off with a weekend in Bruges. Bruges is bloody brilliant. The food is ace and you can wander around the 12th century buildings for ages.
I can hardly believe some of the priceless stuff on show which you can touch without any sort of barriers.
Got a bit of a surprise in the market square when we decided to sit and have a beer. The choice was small or medium, so we have gone for medium and the waiter comes out with these two huge yard of ale style glasses. It's a good job they didn't do a large or God knows what we would have ended up with!
One chap staying at the same hotel as us had a rather novel idea for getting his money's worth. At the buffet breakfast (cheese, meats, bread and stuff) he piled his plate high, came back, wrapped it all up and popped it into his bag. He did this SIX times before finally filling up and actually eating something!
Still, the food was pretty great. We had one meal (which cost an arm and a leg) which took two hours to eat and ended up with me thinking I was going to explode. I looked like I was about to give birth to triplets which is not a good look when you have on a tight dress.
Staying with the B theme and it was off to Brighton and noodles on the pier. I love Brighton, there's just such an odd mix of people.
And, it seems, B is still a running theme as me and Bloke make our way to Broadstairs to see a few morris men shaking sticks and that guy who is always there in a dress, pigtails and his big hairy beard.

Forsooth

EEEK!
When I said I would be dressed up as a lady of Henry II's Medieval court I wasn't being strictly accurate. One look at me and they chucked me into the role of a 12th Century kitchen wench. Humph.
I may not be winning any awards for fashion in this get up but have to say living history at Dover Castle's Great Tower was quite good fun.
The Past Pleasures reenactment guys really know their stuff, not just the acting but the history too. Hardly surprising when the crew consists of historians, a PHD student, archaeologists and, obviously, actors.
More pictures and the full story in the Dover Express and the Deal and Sandwich Express on Thursday.
Til then pass me the mead cos it is the weekend.

Rolling back the years

IT'S deadline tomorrow. So, as usual, I will be proofing the pages and sending them off to press. This week will see the lowdown on what the new filming bill means for Dover district, Tributes to two much-loved residents and the news that Dover District Council hasn't ditched Bond City from the DTIZ project yet.
Usually I would then start the weekly hunt for new and exciting tales to pass to our readers.
But tomorrow lunchtime will be slightly different. I'm going to be garbed out as a lady (stop laughing) of Henry II's court at Dover Castle's Great Tower.
Re-enactors are at the castle this summer giving visitors a real taste of 12th Century life in Henry's chaotic and sometimes volatile household.
So, a brush up on my history, a change into costume (no idea what that will be like) and then off out to greet the public!
Oh dear. I'm not really renowned for my acting skills and wonder how many 12th century ladies had a slightly cockney accent (25 years in Kent but the twang is still there).
I'm feeling slightly nervous but will let you know how I got on (unless they throw me in the dungeon of course).

Phew

What a week.
It has been both excellent and horrible in equal measure.
Last Monday I found myself interviewing Dover girl's grammar pupil Emma Castledine who was lovely. Unfortunately I felt horribly ill and spent most of our time just praying I wouldn't projectile vomit in the school's rather lovely rose garden.
Followed by a trip to one of the classrooms for another story which found me concentrating on not keeling over because the heat was so...well, hot.
Then a story I was working on turned out to have a rather interesting twist. I'll make no comment on that other than go to the website and guess which one it was for yourselves.
http://www.thisiskent.co.uk/dover (GRRRR, why won't this link?)
Then came Boy's camping expedition. A tent was bought at the last minute and he went off for a whale of a time while I spent the evening wondering if he was going to phone for a lift home from the wilds of Canterbury. Not the best recipe for a night's sleep.
I had a repeat performance of this last night when he went to a party.
"I'm coming home early" actually consisted of my waking up at 3am to hear him clattering about in the kitchen trying to microwave his dinner.
This feat was then topped by his efforts to carry the plate upstairs (I don't know why) leaving a rather picturesque trail of gravy on my stairs.
The last few days have also included a pirate party (Hi Mel- arghhhhhh)and a dance show starring (well, not quite starring but including) the smallest grand-daughter who did a bit of a tap dance and then began waving and shouting "Grandad" (oblivious of the audience) when she spotted Bloke.
Here's wondering if the next four days will be as busy/draining/entertaining?

Cutting it fine

I don't think I can avoid it any longer. My hair needs cutting.
I had found the perfect hairdresser but now not only has she had a baby but she is getting married and moving to Turkey.
Arghhhhhhhhhhhhhh.How bloody inconsiderate.
This means the hunt is on once again for someone who will actually cut my hair the way I have asked them to instead of shearing me to within an inch of my life and then insisting the near skinhead they have given me is exactly like the layered bob I asked for.
And then when you find one why do they always cut it wrong from the third time onwards? How many times do you have to explain that you just want them to do exactly the same as they did the first time?
Add to this the requirement of foils (no, when I said blonde and a darker blonde I did not mean brown and copper streaks) and the chances of finding another reliable hairdresser seem to be almost as slim as waking up to find I am a millionaire (it seems only Eastcliff Richard can actually do that but I bet even he hasn't found a great hairdresser).
Any suggestions (not of the bowl, scissors and pal in the kitchen variety please)?

Not on the agenda

So, there I am tonight sitting in the Walmer Sea Scout hut on The Strand waiting for the parish council meeting to start.
The only other person in the hall is clerk Kirsty Holroyd who arrived before me.
We're having a bit of a chat about things to do in the summer (she is a fan of Ramsgate beach - hurrah)when we both notice it is only a couple of minutes before 7pm and not a single councillor in sight.
Where are they?
"Probably having a knees up down the pub, " I say. Just then Kirsty's mobile goes. "That'll be them now," I said, "Seeing if you want them to get you one in."
Kirsty answers and says something along the lines of "What do you mean where am I? I'm here, at the scout hut."
This is followed up by "oh."
She turns to me and says "I think they're all outside."
I'm closest so I get up, push the door open and am confronted with a huddle of nine parish councillors, one county councillor, a PCSO and a partridge in a pear tree (I'm joking about the partridge).
"Why's it locked?" they chorus
Ahhh. I was last in which means I obviously managed to lock the door somehow.
I would have apologised but I was laughing too much.

*Off the cuff quip from Chairman Pat Heath? "How many councillors does it take to open a door?" LOL

Call the doctor

OMG
I have come home and Boy has hoovered, brought the wheelie bin back round, washed up and emptied the rubbish and recycling bins.
I am in too much shock to write anything else :-)