Snowed in

Ok, I may have been a bit of a wuss, but on the basis of the road being covered in snow, and there being 7 inches of the stuff on top of my car, I didn't go to work. It was even our (admittedly early) Christmas lunch, very sad to have missed out.

The only alternative was to try out the new sledges and build a snowman in the garden. School was cancelled and Maisie was available for these activities, so luckily I had company, and someone to take photos of.

Sadly there are none of me looking glamorous in my snow outfit, and the sight of me sliding down the hill in the style of an Olympic bob sleigh person...well, you'll just have to believe me.

More outings out than you can shake a stick at

The film review I know you are all waiting for:

We went, we sat, we are ice cream, we drank fizzy pop, we saw, we enjoyed, we want more. and we needed the loo. The latest Harry Potter movie was excellent, we all really enjoyed it, and were relieved that there was no Hogwarts for a change. Liked the wood scenes, liked the teenage tension, I was a little disappointed with the opening scenes - wasn't convinced, maybe they had used "Special effects R Us" for that bit when the recession struck.

We went on the opening night in Chesterfield, apparently at the same time as every spotty teenager within a 20 mile radius. But far from spoiling the evening, they added a certain atmosphere to the screening, cheering every bit of magic, and offering encouragement to the characters in times of danger - "Come on my son" was a frequent shout. It felt a little like a football match at times, but with Chesterfield on the winning side.

Our other evening out was a night at the theatre - well, Maisie's school for their production of Fiddler on the Roof. A senior school thing so Maisie wasn't involved, but she was very keen to see as she knew a number of cast members. And I have to say, it was brilliant, even almost moving us to tears during "Sunrise, sunset". The main cast were convincing in their beards - particularly the lads! There were attempts at the accents, and the singing was very professional - I'm hoping some will appear on Britain's got talent in the near future.

Earlier in the day we went out to lunch as Leanne and I have been together for 18 years. Our little trio went to the Rutland Arms in Bakewell.

I'm not sure it boded well when we were greeted with photos of the time the manager was involved in "The Hotel Inspector". However, the menu was simple, the food was well cooked, all accompanied with stories from the (slightly eccentric) manager about how he'd quite like it if the place burnt down so he could claim on the insurance. Weird. We were surrounded by clocks, all set to different times, which we were informed had halved in value since their purchase, but we enjoyed the regular chimes as they reached 1 o'clock ...gradually.

Creme bruleé for pudding...mmmmmm

A right royal rigmarole

With the announcement of the royal wedding, the BBC can talk of nothing else. There is some talk of it being just a tactic to take our minds off the recession and the ‘interesting’ choices the government are making. Hmm - when was the last recession, and oh, hang on, when was the last royal wedding? Scratches chin, cleans glasses, nods knowingly.

Well - there’s even more excitement in Sheffield as the actual Queen is coming to open some University building tomorrow. I was really lucky today as I happened to be walking up the street when the police were practicing the drive through town. This involved loads of police motorbikes escorting...no not some lovely royal car, but a green transit van. I’m sure they could have got a better looking standby vehicle - why a green transit van? Maybe it had cameras pointing out of the blacked out windows, and they have spent all afternoon analyzing various faces gawping at the procession wondering what on earth was going on. Let's hope they admired my stylishly worn scarf and hat pulled well down over my ears as it was bloody cold today.

If only I could afford a flag, I would stand on the pavement and wave it tomorrow, but unfortunately I won't; and I have important librarian tasks to complete; and there's a chance of rain; next time maybe. Besides which, I’m saving my pennies for a commemorative mug.

Peak District fashion week

Well it's been an interesting week, with my father being 20 minutes drive away. He's been getting to grips with the change of location, and been reliant on a mobile phone for contact. The 4 minute message I had the other day, was 4 minutes of pocket noise from the dining room. Mainly cutlery noise with the odd highlight of a carer encouraging some eating.

It was apparent he needed his wardrobe upgrading, having been reliant on his own sense of whether he was presentable for some time. Off to the local outlet store. We got shirts, trousers and a jumper. Then Leanne took on the underwear situation. Asking the attendant in the shop - "how do you ask your father-in-law what sort of undies he wears" She giggled saying it wasn't something she had ever had to think about.

As my father is a little deaf, the next thing we hear is Leanne shouting "Now Mr Wilson, are you a boxers or Y-front kind of man?" Classic. He's a boxers man btw - but hasn't bought any new undies for the last 10 years. We bought a three pack.

Remember remember

Dad had an appointment with the memory clinic, which he forgot. Fortunately Leanne was with him to take him along to the appointment. Then she drove him to Derbyshire to a rest home for two weeks respite care. Leanne did a spot check on on his chaotic packing, no undies or socks! Upon further discussion at work, this would appear to be a trend with men in general, no worries there then!

OK - hats scarves, gloves, it must be bonfire night. We rugged up and set off to Chatsworth of course. Set to a soundtrack chosen by someone my age (Pump up the volume, Thriller and a bit of Abba thrown in for good measure) we were treated to a firework display which inspired a few oohs and aahs. We had fun with glow sticks, loved the massive bonfire, and didn't have to queue too long for the toilet. Not too cold, the car said 4 degrees when we left, toasty.

Get knotted

It's been a bit parky, so I needed a scarf - little did I know that there are so many decisions which go along with scarf wearing - when did it all get so complicated? With fond memories of the knitted type received for Christmas, the vast array of colours and styles was the first obstacle. Which to choose, fluffy, holed, spotty, bobbly, acrylic, wool, tripe (Ok I made that one up - I'm not Lady Gaga!), not one came with a matching bobble hat. With my trusty side kicks in tow, we entered the menswear dept in Debehams - it soon transpired that my fashion consultants were attempting to choose scarves they had every intention of borrowing on a regular basis, humph.

I chose a striped number in the end - nice and simple, entirely my choice. BUT - the decisions never end - how does one tie the new scarf? It would appear there's an art. Round the neck a couple of times, like a tie, folded in half and shoved through - yes - I choose that one.

The scarf wearing family - looking rather dapper, went to Belfast for a couple of nights for a wee city break. Thanks to cheap flights and a late room booking. We lucked out with the seating arrangements getting on the budget flight - convinced we would be next to sputum guy stood in front of us in the queue, we were well clear of him. Now all we had to worry about was the pilot - he kept coming out of his little cabin lolling like he was washing his hands in an OCD fashion - maybe he had ended up next to sputum guy!

Belfast was lovely, great restaurants, very friendly folk, and easy to get around. We took a bus tour and saw loads of murals, regenerated buildings and some charming pubs - giving us inspiration for what to do on the way home. A delicious glass of guinness on tap - never quite the same when you are not in Ireland.

The photo is Maisie's pumpkin, enjoyed lighting it at 5pm and it was actually dark.