Charlecote Park

At the end of October over 130 people put on their boots for a “Boundary walk” in Charlecote Park. This proved to be a chance to talk to members of the staff who were walking and to enjoy parts of the Park not normally walked. The deer must have wondered what was happening!

During the winter, the Park, gardens and outbuildings normally open will remain open from 10am till 4pm, except 23^rd, 24^th, 25^th December, with the restaurant opening 11am to 4pm for hot drinks and snacks and 12 noon to 2.30pm for a hot menu.

Winter is definitely here and the house started being “put to bed” in November. Cleaning everything and covering in white custom made covers gives a ghostly look to the rooms. The good news is that the conservation team has just finished a detailed inspection and cleaning of the 3,000+ books in the library. The ground floor will remain open from 12 noon until 4pm, weekends only until 18^th December, and the Decorations will all be up for you to enjoy and you can buy your last minute Christmas items in the shop.

To make arrangements to visit Father Christmas, who has promised to be there, weather permitting, contact the office in good time to book a time.

For further details, please contact Charlecote Park on 01789 470277 or visit: www.nationaltrust.org.uk/main/w-charlecotepark .

MEMORIES

We met, we married, a long time ago.
We worked for long hours, when wages were low.
No telly, no wireless, no bath, times-were hard.
Just a cold tap, and a walk up the yard.

No holiday abroad, no carpet on floors,
But we had coal fires and we never locked doors.
Our children arrived, no “Pill” in those days,
And we brought them up without any “State Aid”.

They were all quite safe in the park,
And the “Old Folk” could go for a walk in the dark.
No Valium, no drugs, and no LSD
We cured our ills with a good cup of tea.

If you were sick, you were treated at once.
No forms to fill in, and "come back in six months".
No vandals, no muggings, we had nothing to rob;
We were quite rich with a couple of bob.

People were happier in those far off days,
Kinder and caring in so many ways.
Milkman and paper boys would whistle and sing,
A night at the pictures was our mad fling.

We had our share of troubles and strife,
And we just had to face it – that's the pattern of life.
But now I'm alone, I look back through the years,
I don't think of the bad time, the troubles and tears,
I remember the blessings, our home and our love,
That we shared them together, I thank God above.

At this time of the year, hundreds of choral societies around the country of all shapes and sizes will be producing performances of the most familiar and best loved of all Handel's music “The Messiah”. We're inclined to assume that everyone has heard it and appreciates it. But it ain't necessarily so – read on:

THE MESSIAH

Most of us are familiar with the words and music of this great oratorio, but old Bill Jones from Golcar, a little village in the West Riding, had never been to a performance and he tried to persuade a friend to go with him to the Huddersfield Town Hall to hear the famous choral society, but his friend refused.

"Nay", he said, "that sort of music's nowt in my line. I like a good comic song or a lively jig, but I reckon nowt to this sacred stuff as they call it. It's beyond me. An' another thing, there'll be none of our sort there. It'll be mostly religious folk and swells done up in boiled shirts and wimmen wi' nowt much on. Nay, tha go by thissen and then tha can tell me all about it sometime.

So Bill went by himself and the next time the old pals met, the following conversation took place.

"Well, cum on – how did tha get on at Messiah? Tell us about it, but wait till I've filled me pipe, then I can tek it in a bit better."

"Ee well," said Bill, "It were fair champion. I wouldn't a missed it for all the tea in China. When I got there the Town Hall were crowded, it were choc full of folk and I had a job to get a seat, but no wonder – it were all them singers – they took up half the gallery."

"Anyhow I managed to squeeze in somehow. There were a chap larkin' about on t'organ, he weren't playing nowt in particular, just running his fingers up an' down as if he were practicing just like our Martha used to do when she started to learn to play t'pianner. Well, after a bit, a lot o' chaps came in carrying fiddles, then they brought in t'Messiah. Well – that's what I took it to be. It were t'biggest instrument on t'platform an' it were covered in a big green bag. Anyroad up, they took the bag off it and then a bloke rubbed its belly wi' a stick an' tha should 'ave 'eard it groan. It were summat like the last expiring moan of a dying cow.

"I were just thinking o' going when this little chap came in, all dolled up in a white weskit and wi' a flower in 'is buttonhole an' everything went dead quiet. Tha could have 'eard a pin drop. He 'ad a stick in 'is 'and, an' 'e started waving it about an' all the singers stared at 'im... I reckon they were wonderin' what were t'matter wi' 'im.

"Then they started to sing and they hadn't been going for long before they were fratchin' like cats. I reckon he should 'ave walloped one or two of 'em wi' that stick. First one side said they were King of Glory, then t'other side said they were, an' they went at it 'ammer an' tongs, but it fizzled out, so I've no idea which side won."

Then there were a bit of bother about some sheep that was lost. I don't know who they belonged to, but they must 'ave been champion twisters and turners, judgin' by t'words an' t'fancy music. One lot of singers must 'ave been very fond o' mutton, 'cos they kept on singing "All we like sheep" I couldn't help saying to t' bloke next to me that sheep's alright in moderation but I like a bit of underdone beef meself an 'e looked daggers at me an' said 'Shhhh', so I shushed.

Then a chap stood and sang by 'isself. They must a bin 'is sheep, 'cos he said every mountain an' 'ill should be laid low. I thought they'd be sure to find 'em if they did that as well as findin' work for t'unemployed. Then up jumped another bloke an' 'e did look mad. I wondered if they'd taken 'is sheep to make up for them they'd lost. He said they'd imagined a vain thing... 'e were in a right state I can tell thee."

Then t'organist started bangin' and t'rest o' t'band was just as mad 'cos the way they was sawin' at them fiddles, I thought they was going to go through 'em. I bet everybody were glad when that bloke sat down.

A lot of women stood up after that an' all of 'em looked as if they were... well... gettin' on a bit. Some of 'em must 'ave bin 80 if they were a day. They sang “Unto us a child is born” and the chaps sang back. 'Wonderful' an' I thought, 'wonderful – it's a blooming miracle'.

After that they sobered down a bit an' sang about a lass called Joyce Greatly. I've never 'eard of 'er meself, but t'chaps 'ad, 'cos they all looked mighty pleased about it.

Then some bloke got up an' said 'e were t'King of Kings, an' another one said he were, an' then blow me, they all started arguin' about it. I were getting a bit fed up when everybody stood up to see what were t'matter an' they suddenly shouted 'Hallelujah... it's going to rain for ever and ever.'

Well, at that I jumped up and made straight for t'door. I'd 'ad me money's worth an' besides I were thinking that if it were goin' to rain for ever and ever, I'd better get 'ome before t' flood came. It were a real good do though, tha should 'ave come, but oh, I do 'ope they find them sheep.

(So now you know what it's really all about).