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At the Sign of the Stuffed Goose
Today I go to pick up the goose that was to have fed me, Haruka, my brother and his partner on Christmas day. Of course, that's no longer going to happen. Theoretically it might be possible to travel from Brighton to Bristol and back in a day, in accordance with Johnson's latest panicked edict, but it hardly sounds fun, especially as everyone else will also be on the road. So, goose till March, then (although it now seems that Ayako will be free to join us, and may be good for a leg). My plan to give Haruka a very traditional English Christmas has gone a bit haywire, unless 1348 counts as "traditional."
At least my tree looks nice! I bought it from "Refutrees," a pop-up shop run by Aid Box Community, a local charity that specialises in aid work and wordplay. Coincidentally, the other day I was hailed on the street by a Syrian refugee who was looking for the charity, and walked with him to their base, where they were happy to see him, though he looked a bit nonplussed on arrival to find that the charity he'd been seeking was (to the untrained eye) just a room full of Nordic spruces.
Two nights ago, in my festive fury, I took Haruka to Westonbirt Arboretum's Enchanted Christmas Trail, where the trees were lit up prettily, some animated, with occasional sylvan holograms, music, lasers, and so on. It would have been very charming, had it not been raining steadily throughout. I felt especially sorry for the woodland elves who had been hired to interact with the questers for the 'West Pole' (us) and perform little skits. That they were all carrying umbrellas was entirely understandable, but did take a little from the magic, especially since they were made of plastic and not (as one might have hoped) giant rhubarb leaves. Still, life's been hard on Equity members this year, and at least it was a gig.
At least my tree looks nice! I bought it from "Refutrees," a pop-up shop run by Aid Box Community, a local charity that specialises in aid work and wordplay. Coincidentally, the other day I was hailed on the street by a Syrian refugee who was looking for the charity, and walked with him to their base, where they were happy to see him, though he looked a bit nonplussed on arrival to find that the charity he'd been seeking was (to the untrained eye) just a room full of Nordic spruces.
Two nights ago, in my festive fury, I took Haruka to Westonbirt Arboretum's Enchanted Christmas Trail, where the trees were lit up prettily, some animated, with occasional sylvan holograms, music, lasers, and so on. It would have been very charming, had it not been raining steadily throughout. I felt especially sorry for the woodland elves who had been hired to interact with the questers for the 'West Pole' (us) and perform little skits. That they were all carrying umbrellas was entirely understandable, but did take a little from the magic, especially since they were made of plastic and not (as one might have hoped) giant rhubarb leaves. Still, life's been hard on Equity members this year, and at least it was a gig.
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I will now re-attempt! :o)
What we possibly need is 1381 rather than 1348!
Being a Kenting, I'm a member of the Wat Tyler fan club of course- good Dartford boy after all.
Hope you manage some sort of a good time
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My experience of goose is that the meat doesn't go on as long as you'd expect, but there is goose far forever, which is disconcerting but makes the best roast potatoes ever.
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I am reminded of the story I once read of a woman who got a gig acting in a television commercial. Her job was to take a bite out of a hamburger and give a big smile.
The hamburgers were cold, they'd been slathered in grease (to make them photograph better), and the scene had to be filmed over and over. And she had to give that big smile.
"It may not have been Shakespeare," she concluded, "but it sure was acting."
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