The Shambles in York wins Google Street View Award


I am very happy that The Shambles in York won the Google Street View Awards! My relatives came from Yorkshire and I spent many school holidays visiting the city.

York is an ancient city, the Romans invaded in 71AD, when 5,o00 men marched from Lincoln and set up camp at a place they called “Eboracum”.

Next came the Vikings, invading on 1st November 866 when all the leaders were in the cathedral celebrating All Saints Day,

William the Conquerer also set his sights on York after the invasion, marching there in 1068 when York was still a Viking city.

The Black Death came to York in 1190 and stayed for almost a year, by the time it was over, more than 5,000 people had died

Henry VII defeated York’s favourite Richard III to win the crown in 1485 and visited the city a year later, when the citizens were determined to put on a good impression for the first of the Tudor monarchs.

The Shambles was a street even then, lined with butcher shops with the meat laid out on what now are the window sills.  At some points, if you stretch out your arms you can touch both sides of the street!

There is loads more to the story of York and you can read all about it at http://www.historyofyork.org.uk

Or better still, pay a visit……………

Christmas Eve – one more sleep


I went to a carol service last Monday and I’m ashamed to admit that I can’t remember the last one that I went to.  It was a beautiful evening, the church which is very old, was lit by hundreds of candles which made the occasion magical. The service was lovely and the singing just amazing.  All the carols I knew from childhood, “Hark the Herald Angels Sing”, “Silent Night”, O Little Town of Bethlehem” …. were sung with gusto by all the congregation.

As I walked home through the snow that had fallen earlier that day, I got to thinking about past Christmases and, as a child, how excited I used to get. Making paper decorations with my sister, going shopping with my mother, seeing all the lights in the windows, hearing people calling out “Merry Christmas” to strangers as they passed in the street.  It seemed everyone got caught up in the Christmas spirit.

I tried to give my children the same wonderful Christmases that I had and relived mine again through them.  Watching their excitement as the time drew nearer, counting the sleeps till Christmas Eve, when HE would come, hopefully with the sackful of  presents they had asked for. Hanging up the stockings, which somehow became sacks over the years and the frustration of trying to find small inexpensive things to fill them with –  a tangerine, a handful of nuts, a bag of chocolate coins, football socks, gloves, while still somehow manging to put a pile of presents under the tree for them

They are all grown up now, but still come back home with their partners for Christmas.  Their rooms are all ready, the shopping is done and I will be waiting to greet them when they arrive this evening. I will watch them as they put their presents alongside ours under the tree and wonder where all the years have gone.

After a late supper, when we have had time to catch up on everyone’s news we’ll got to bed for one more sleep………….and then it will be Christmas

Shopping is fun – if you are thin!


Had a very busy day in the office today, catching up on work that piled up while I was away yesterday. Grabbing a sandwich for lunch, I had a look through a newpaper that someone had left on a nearby table.

The headline that caught my eye was about having more fun shopping if you are thin. This brought back memories of those large communal changing rooms that were all the rage a few years ago and the fact that I hated using them.  They always seemed populated by tall slender women, who wandered about in various stages of undress, trying on the smallest of clothes without a care in the world; whereas I would try to hide in the farthest, dimmest corner with my back to everyone.

Most women do like shopping and use the trips for inspiration and ideas as well as buying clothes.  The problem that I have is in the sizing of the clothes. One store’s size 12 will be another’s size 10 and, if you are not having a particularly good day, struggling into a dress that you think should fit you, only to find when you look in the mirror, that you look like a sack of potatoes does nothing for your self esteem and your memories of shopping will be mainly negative.

Nowadays, most shops have thankfully realised that their customers are much happier and more relaxed about clothes shopping, if they provide well lit, good sized, individual changing rooms. And, if those shops also offer a good choice of clothes, in sizes that fit us, we can all have fun shopping.

Holidays


Just managed to post the map of cities I’ve visited and seeing it up there, set me to thinking about the places I have been to and just how lucky I have been. Years ago, we couldn’t afford to go anywhere abroad and spent our holidays in the UK, like a lot of our friends and relations. We enjoyed caravan holidays in Devon and Cornwall, places I had stayed with my parents when I was a child. I love the beaches of Devon and the ruggedness of the Cornish coast.
I remember once, when I was about 10, my parents sister and I, stayed in a house called Anne’s Cottage near West Portholland, overlooking Veryan Bay. It was a magical place for us children. Friends of my parents and their two children came with us and, although it rained quite a lot of the time, we didn’t care. The four of us spent every morning on the beach, which was only a short walk from the cottage. We searched rockpools for crabs and walked along the shoreline looking for shells. We bought nets from the little shop in West Portholland and told our parents we were going fishing. But it wasn’t until we all went on a visit to Mevagissey, that we actually caught anything.
The four of us went out with a local fisherman, looking for mackerel. I caught 7. I remember being absolutely delighted and there is a photo of me somewhere grinning from ear to ear, standing proudly alongside a smiling, gap-toothed fisherman, holding my catch for all to see. My sister is scowling because she hated every minute.
Another year, we went to Devon and stayed in a caravan near Goodrington Sands, heaven for my sister and I. One day after having a picnic on the beach, we returned to the caravan and my mother started washing up the plates and cutlery we had taken with us. A little while afterwards, she let out such a shout, we all came running to see what had happened. She burst into tears and told us that she had lost her wedding ring and as my father tried to calm her down we set about trying to find it. The search stopped when it got dark, with my father reassuring her we would try again the next day. Looking back, as we had no idea where she had lost it, it was a pointless exercise, but we felt we had to do something.
Eventually after two days searching, my father told her that he would buy her a new ring and we would all go into town and look for a jewellers. We finally found one and my sister and I were asked to wait outside. I remember feeling miffed, I wanted to look at the rings too. After what seemed like ages, my sister started dancing about saying she needed to go to the toilet, so into the shop we went. Just as my father was paying for a new wedding ring and my mother was proudly admiring it on her hand, I evidently announced, in a loud voice, “mum can you hurry up as we need to go to the toilet”. We were rushed outside pretty quickly.
I know hindsight is a wonderful thing, but we really did have some fantastic holidays.