A Packed Social Calendar

I love the explosion of activity that happens at this time of year. I have a fairly packed schedule of events for the whole of December and I am starting to wonder exactly when I'm going to find the time and energy for Xmas shopping and menu planning.

On Monday, it was my Running Club's Xmas party. One of the things I miss about work since giving up to be a stay at home mum is the Xmas social so I was really excited about this one. It was held at our local Brewery and I very much enjoyed the three pints of Joule's Slumbering Monk Ale that kept me well lubricated throughout the evening.

The pub attached to the brewery is not blessed with the friendliest of staff but the brewer's hall, also known as the Mouse Room is a gorgeous venue if you enjoy cosy oak panelling, wood carving, beams and the modern touch of large windows giving a view across to the brewery. It was perfect for the party with an elegantly trimmed tree creating a festive feel.

The food was buffet style and although there was some confusion over whether the three vegetarian guests were to be brought a pre-plated selection of non meat offerings or left to the lucky dip of the buffet table, it did not spoil the evening. I managed to procure myself a reasonable selection of dodgy sarnies and mini mince pies. The non-veggies didn't fair much better. I was not particularly envious of their cocktail sausages or scotch eggs. The success of the evening really did not hinge on the gastronomic experience.

It was a fairly standard itinerary - prize giving followed by raffle. I was never in the running (pardon the pun) for any prizes and I didn't even come close to winning the raffle.

So apart from the venue and the ale, what made it a good evening? Simple really. The people. Feeling part of something good. Being inspired to run more - to push myself harder - enter some races next year and see some improvements in my times. It was lovely to celebrate success and look to the future.

Photo by Sophie Murray 

Yesterday I was leaving my little ones in the capable hands of big sister and dad again for another evening out.

The Market Drayton Writer's Club was holding an Open Mic night at the library and my daughter, who is a member, invited me to hear her read an extract from a novel she has been writing as part of the online writing challenge NaNoWriMo.  Her best friend (and mummy blogger) Carole has also been meeting the word count demanded by the challenge and was due to give a reading. As well as being interested in hearing these readings, I was lured by the promise of mince pies.

Carole's parents, boyfriend and boyfriend's mum along with my daughter, her boyfriend and myself occupied two tables pushed together at our local Wetherspoons to enjoy their steak night. Of course steak night is somewhat lost on vegetarians but I happily tucked into the veggie Burger and a Beer option and only gave a brief admiring glance in the direction of the mixed grill ordered by most of the party.

The Christmas lights in town looked absolutely gorgeous as we made our way to the library for the Open Mic event.

It was really interesting listening to the pieces that the town's creative writers had selected to share with their audience. Some were excellent and inspiring. Others, inevitably, not so good. I am not glossing over the truth in any way when I say that my daughter and Carole's readings fell firmly in the excellent and inspiring category! I felt very proud.

I admit that I was starting to ache a bit from sitting still for too long so I was quite relieved when the final reading ended and the mince pies were served.

With all this beer and mince pie indulgence, I am glad that tonight I will be going for my Wednesday 3mile run - and even more glad that I will be home in time to put my little ones to bed and enjoy a cosy evening in with my husband.

Eminent Solina F225

When I received a text from my daughter Taylor's boyfriend to say that there was an organ for sale in the charity shop that he volunteers at,  I admit I was tempted.

Daughter Charis has been playing piano for Sunday services at our local church for nearly a year now and has been given all sorts of opportunities as a result. One such opportunity was to learn the organ. The synchronicity of organ tuition and a serviceable second hand organ available with a modest price tag made the purchase seem almost inevitable. Only 'almost' because I was worried that we would struggle to find a place to house it.

Saturday morning, I set off with my husband and little ones for a walk through town to the canal for some duck feeding. I found myself thinking about the organ - wondering if it would be available still or if some other enthusiast would have snapped up the bargain.  As we looked through the charity shop window, there it was. No SOLD sign in sight. Enthusiasts are maybe in short supply. We went in to have a look. It was an Eminent Solina F225 - bigger than I imagined but my husband was not deterred. He was ready to buy it there and then but I suggested we think about it and bring Charis back later that day to see if her enthusiasm would offset the the hassle of having to rearrange our home to accommodate it.

We had a lovely walk by the canal. Two beautiful swans and more ducks than we could count delighted the children with their antics as my husband and I acknowledged the start of December with a celebratory mince pie (or two!)

Back home we told Charis about the organ and she was in her shoes and ready to go before we had even finished describing it. I stayed home with the little ones while she and dad went back to the charity shop.  Although the organ was tucked behind a rather large wardrobe and getting to it meant clambering over piles of assorted occasional furniture,  nothing was going to stop Charis from treating the charity shop volunteers and customers to a good attempt at a tune! Money exchanged hands and the organ was ours.

The whole rest of Saturday was spent moving furniture, clearing out clutter and reorganising. Miraculously we created an organ sized space. On Monday, the organ was delivered. Three volunteers manhandled it into position. I plugged it in to make sure it still worked and spent much longer than I needed to 'make sure it worked' fiddling with knobs, sliders, switches, pedal and keys to make some very satisfying noises.

When Charis got home from school she could not resist the lure of her new toy. I was impressed with how well she adapted to playing the unfamiliar instrument making recognisable renditions of some popular tunes that she was sight reading from the yellowed pages of an organ music book that came with our purchase.

This is a 30 second video of her first attempt at Greensleeves.

With a little more practice and some tuition, I think she could quickly become an accomplished organist. I look forward to the house being filled with hauntingly beautiful Christmas music and the Gothic classic toccata and fugue. I would be disappointed if she didn't throw in a few cheesy uptempo pop songs and the odd waltz. It would transport me back to the opulent splendour of the Blackpool Tower Ballroom. Time to push the furniture out of the way, put on my sequins and dance!

I love that a charity shop and a talented daughter can bring so much richness into my life. 

A Santa Suit and a Smile

There is a slightly crumpled red and white jacket in my house at the moment - the sort of red and white jacket that might be worn by a jolly fellow who invariably puts in an appearance at this time of year. Pinned to that jacket is a slightly more crumpled square of paper bearing the number 80.

This was the jacket that I wore yesterday to take part in the Bridgnorth Charity Santa Dash.

It was an early start (especially for a Sunday!) with registration opening at 9am and Bridgnorth being on the opposite side of the county from the small market town that I call home. Thankfully, it was a mild morning. The merest hint of wind or rain could well have seen me making a speedy retreat to under my warm duvet.

I was taking part in the Santa Dash with my daughter and a friend from our running club, whose mad idea it was in the first place. After collecting our outfits and identification numbers, we settled ourselves down in the local Wetherspoons to wait for the start of the race with a nice drink and a comfy seat. The hilarity commenced as we tried on our santa suits.

The costumes we had been given were not of the highest quality and designed to fit no one as far as I could tell. We all managed to get the trousers on over our running attire and I had more than enough safety pins to make any adjustments necessary. Unfortunately, no amount of safety pins could deal with the catastrophic seam ripping that occurred with every movement we made. From our Wetherspoons window seat, we could see other participants gathering and there was plenty of evidence of further wardrobe malfunctions in the gusset department. It was encouraging to see that the trousers of people of all shapes and sizes were suffering the same fate as ours. Concerns that maybe it was time for a bum trimming crash diet were forgotten!

As the start time for the race crept closer, we made our not entirely inconspicuous way to the starting point.

The race started and finished right in the middle of a very busy Christmas Market. The organisers made their best attempts to photograph the participants, give a safety briefing and route instructions but it was virtually impossible amongst the hustle and bustle of the market. This would prove even more difficult at the finish.

As we waited for the off, clouds cleared revealing a gloriously blue winter sky and bright sunshine - perhaps a little too bright and low in that gloriously blue winter sky. It was completely blinding. A group of a hundred or so squinting, blinded Santas ran through the market to the cheers of spectators they couldn't see.

The route was described as approximately 2.4 miles long, mostly flat with one gentle incline. I should have anticipated that what the residents of the dramatically undulating South Shropshire countryside classify as a 'gentle incline' would be closer to what their neighbours in relatively flat North Shropshire would  call a long, steep, killer hill. I confess that it was more than I could manage to run all the way up that killer hill, especially given how much I was overheating in the non-breathable fabric of the cheap santa suit. I will be forever grateful that we abandoned any thought of actually wearing the trousers after the third seam splitting comedy ripping sound was the catalyst for more bordering-on-hysterical laughter back in Wetherspoons.

I have always admired the people that conquer the gruelling 26 mile marathon distance. Having had a small taste of how of it feels to run in fancy dress, I have considerably more admiration for the people who run their marathons dressed as chickens and bananas (etc!). I lost my beard before I even started running - it shed white fluff destined to be inhaled or swallowed far too easily. I wriggled out of the top part of the jacket about three quarters of the way round and the hat just had to come off shortly after.

There was lots of support on the way round for the spectacle of the sweaty Santas. However, as we approached the end and called upon our last reserves to go for the big sprint finish, we found our route through the market completely blocked by shoppers. I have never known a race where you have to dodge to the end saying 'excuse me please' repeatedly. It was a bit of an anti climax to an otherwise great run but we eventually squeezed our way through to the finish line via the back of the market stalls and collected our finishers medals!

Squeezing through the crowded market to the finish line!

My medal

It was a fantastically festive event and I thoroughly enjoyed the challenge of the run and the fun we had with garments not fit for purpose! Best of all for me was that the entry fee for the race was to raise money for the Shropshire Smile Maternity Charity that supports maternity units in the county. I always like to include some charitable activity at this time of year to counter the pressure to give in to the commercialisation of the holidays. This was lovely start to our Christmas celebrations.

A well earned post race mince pie and coffee