Amazing Skies...

 Nunhead skies on Christmas Eve...

Christmas to (Nearly) the New Year!

On Penguin Beach

I think I forgot to post about what we did after the Olympic Archery. Following a morning of arrows, we wondered at first what we might do in London near Lords.

And then it seemed obvious; we went to London Zoo in Regent's Park.

The Zoo is much smaller than Berlin Zoo, and I hadn't been there for years.  There have been a lot of changes and work is still continuing - but I must admit I was impressed.

An area near the old Mappin Terraces is being redeveloped and I suspect the chap above was in temporary accommodation, but he didn't seem to mind!

This dragon later had a bit part in Skyfall, I understand. 

It was something of a whistlestop tour...

... but I did stop and stand and stare for many minutes at these two aardvarks (shot without flash through thick glass).

And then, as you do, we went looking for the penguins.  But the iconic pool was empty.

So where were they - had they been shipped off to Whipsnade to join the elephants and many of the big cats?

No, they had a new and super home - Penguin Beach.

It is a huge new open air space, much bigger than the old pool (which all of a sudden seemed astonishingly cramped and brutal).  There are several viewing points, including a glass wall (rather like the hippo wall in Berlin, only cleaner), through which and over which the birds could be seen in astonishing closeup.  The water laps up to the edge, and the penguins swim over to say hello...

For a little extra, children (and adults) can go onto the beach and feed individual penguins by hand.

Or you can just stand and watch them swim, swim by.

A real improvement to the Zoo, and worth the admission price on its own.

I got so excited about Penguin Beach that I thought I would post something about it straight away.  But as I said at the start, I forgot (blame the Olympics). 

And it is now nearly Christmas, so I guess I'd better finish with a more seasonal beast.

Purple

A while back I posted the famous Jenny Joseph poem about behaving badly as we get older.  You know the one: "... I will wear purple."  

Well, I've now taken the first step on that road, as I was given a beautiful palatinate purple T shirt for Christmas. 

It's a start!

Poem of the Season

Twas The Night Before Christmas
Clement Clarke Moore

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads.
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tinny reindeer.

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

"Now Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On, Cupid! on, on Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of Toys, and St Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of Toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler, just opening his pack.

His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose!

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!"

Less Dismal

Sunnier, bluer skies, and my holiday has started. Yayyy!

Dismal

A dismal cold wet grey day today.  Christmas is definitely on its way...

Lots of Symbolic Activity?

I've been looking at the stats for this blog. 

It seems the most viewed post is the long, meandering item in November 2009 about the symbolism in and around the local house that D. had bought, and was going to renovate.

Ironically, although that post has seen lots of activity, the house hasn't. 

It's pretty much in the same state as it was when I posted about it, Yew tree, Christmas tree and all...

Christmas Stuff

And so it behoves me to discuss some of the radio and telly over Christmas.

The BBC belatedly decided to repeat The Goodies - albeit too late at night to be really helpful. And they got the schedule wrong – I almost missed the End of the World Christmas episode because it was advertised as Ecky Thump (which I have on DVD). I also caught the Bunfight at the OK Tea Rooms. Great and Silly.

Elsewhere, I found Dr Who merely adequate and the eulogising of Ronnie Corbett over the top. Although at least the latter reminded us of the great writing of Gerald Wiley, who wrote a number of famous sketches including Fork Handles:



and Swedish Made Simple:-


Gerald Wiley was of course Ronnie Barker.

There was a lot of telly picking over its own past, including nights full of Fawlty Towers and Blackadder. The former was pleasant if only because they seemed to make a lot of the episode with Bernard Cribbens (quite right too).

Cribbens also appeared on the obituary programme on Radio 4, when they discussed Elizabeth Beresford. I'd forgotten he did the voices for the Wombles on TV. Mind you, I always preferred the Borribles.

Christmas Day on the Rye

A little cold, a little damp.  It's Christmas!!

Noel

I would like to take this opportunity to wish a VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS to both my readers...

Syon Park

Syon Park. Or rather, a Christmas do like no other I've ever been to, in a large tent in Syon Park. As you may be able to tell, the theme was something like "A Night in Marrakesh".

So, lets see, there were sort-of belly dancers near the bars as we came in... but that was OK 'cos the bars were only selling sort-of bitter.
These two women were fire eaters. With huge flaming torches (that the photo doesn't really do justice to) ...

... and giant flaming hula hoops which they... used like hula hoops. Leaving sooty streaks across their stomachs and necks.
This next was a spinal tap moment, with flaring lights and mood music, and a build up of gently hilarious tension, until what was revealed was...
... a couple of women playing on some curtains.
This is what happens if the camera strap passes over the flash and stops it popping up, so the camera tries to do a long exposure on the wrong setting. I think it is some people from work dancing.

And I haven't mentioned the dodgem cars, nor the meal and wine, nor the 'bucking bronco' camel, nor the stilt walker, nor the two men dressed in a camel suit.

Oh well, you can't have everything.

Festive Nunhead

Someone has been busy with some tinsel. Several of the standard lamps in the heart of Nunhead are now bedecked. Like this one here. But the overall effect is rather sad and forlorn. Hardly Oxford Street.