Forget to say please or thank you every time you are given anything (even a bill!)

Refuse to talk about the weather.

Mildly disagree with them.

Jump a queue.

Keep saying ‘after you’  rather than going through the door that’s been opened.

Offer postive ideas and solutions to everything they moan about.

Ban the colours beige and magnolia.

Weep loudly in public.

Admit that you hate animals, especially dogs and cats.

Praise the current Government.

Act happy in a post office

Somebody buying a round for everybody in the bar is a great gesture, but make it champagne all round and it becomes a grand gesture. But if somebody buys a round for a large group of friends, when they have money problems which nobody knows about it is a grander gesture or maybe a foolhardy gesture or both.

Many grand gestures need an element of risk or foolhardiness to raise them from kind or nice to grand. Receiving a box of chocolates is always lovely but receive one from someone who has gone through various trials and tribulations to get them make the gesture a grand one. (old Milk Tray adverts.)

People climb bridges and hang messages displayed on sheets while others pay small aircraft to write smoke messages in the sky, but they are not always grand gestures because grand gestures also involve an element of impulse and large-heartedness!

My brother who lives in America and is far from wealthy decided to send his mother -in the UK, flowers for her birthday. He then thought it would also be nice to send some to me, and to his other sister, and the other one, and also his brother. The flower company were bemused as he kept phoning back with yet another request.

He was quite tipsy but when he had sobered up he laughed his head off at the thought of the bouquets he had sent out and when the company phoned to confirm the order (despite the huge bill) he told them to go ahead and send them.

Easter Day and lovely old churches nationwide will have treble or more congregation than they get for the rest of the year apart from Christmas.

Everyone will enjoy traditional Easter hymns and the story of Jesus rising from the tomb. Then they’ll go home to their huge roast and the meaning and the story will be forgotten.

But why do people turn up to church at Easter? If they are atheists, then why would they? If they are not sure then is it to lay some kind of claim on Christianity, just in case it all turns out to be true? If they do believe then are they too lazy to get up more than once or twice a year?

On the other hand, churches are heaving with those who go for the social interraction, to have a role to play, to make themselves feel good and other reasons which have nothing to do with believing the gospel message.

Still, Tesco is closed on Easter Day so maybe that explains the rise in church numbers.

Beefeaters , guarding the palace and keeping a botox face

Footballers from small local teams where family supporters huddle in the wind and the rain to cheer them on, pubs with wide screen tv’s and cock-eyed punters cheering and belching , huge stadiums where faithful supporters droan the team anthem.

Morris Dancers…the bells, the bells!

British Bobbies. A rare sight on foot, and somehow in cars they aren’t bobbies.

Women from the WI (Women’s Institute) They really do make cake and jam and meet in church halls.

Men in bowler hats. Very few now , but still an image of the English. Must be something to do with the shape of the bowler-hatted head

Middle aged women on bicycles with baskets. Not necessarily nosy and into solving mysteries.

Cricketers in white on a village green where the sun always shines and cucumber sandwiches abound.

Milkmen. Bottles of milk placed on your doorstep - it sounds magical and historical already!

Horsey Dog walkers … or doggy horse riders! The horse/dog set wearing tweed and snorting as they laugh.

Cockney market traders. Rollaarp! Ieem not askin’ a tenna, not eeeeven a fiva, Ieeem not eeeeven goingta ask fooooar quid. No ladissandgenlarmen I can offa you this for the amayzing and once only price of thurreee pounds and fifty pence-!

Debutantes
Partying and clubbing by night, attending spas and beauty parlours by day, then they get married, and and go partying and clubbing at night and attend beauty parlours by day!

Crabby Pensioners at Bus Stops (or in Post Office Queues)
Hardly surprising given the draughty unwelcoming shelters, late buses and long queues.

Goofy Vicars well meaning, affable and dim.

Old Maids. School teachers with slightly pointy noses.

These are becoming increasingly popular especially in winter when it is dark so early. It is an easy way to cash in on British history and to add atmosphere and intrigue to old buildings. There is nothing like a ghost to draw the crowds.

The walks usually start in the graveyard of an old church or stately home and the guide (speaking in a suitably deep hushed voice) begins the story of the sad old ghost, where they lived and their tragic and untimely death.

As the story unfolds the group follow him as he walks (or glides) along pointing out old and current haunts and where the ghosts is likely to appear. The group stops, waiting and listening in strategic spots as dusk turns to dark and his voice gets deeper and the atmosphere creepier.

By now there is a pleasant frisson of fear amongst the group which becomes more jumpy so that if one accidentally touches another a gasp or even a scream rings out into the night.
He stops talking, but gestures again for them to stop so they huddle in the dark expectantly and wait. Then someone suddenly realises that the guide has faded away.

Talking of pantomimes, my theatre company periodically mulls over the idea of performing one. Ideally it would be tailor made for our small underground theatre and some of the characters in our group of amateur thespians.

So I have decided to write one.   I have a hefty task before me, because in order to aim for a pantomime for this December, or January 09 I need to have it written, rewritten and ready to roll by May, when we start choosing our winter production.   I will also want to direct it which will be novel as I have not directed before.

Anyway my plan is to try and complete it by then and to post the odd excerpt here on Crazy Brits, in the hope that some of you will be kind enough to post some comments and give me some feedback.

Writing a pantomime fits in quite well with ‘Crazy Brits’ or at least this Crazy Brit, and hopefully you’ll enjoy getting glimpses of it along the way.

I have chosen ‘The Emperor’s New Clothes.’ The Emperor is vain, obviously, but ultimately a ‘goodie’ with an evil brother….BOOO!   I may not be able to talk any of my am dram friends into appearing nude so it may have to be some lary shorts or something…ideas please.

Actually when it continues the saga i’ve already had so far this month then yes there bloody is!

I try to avoid making New Year’s resolutions but Christmas consumerism condensed my hatred of shopping into thoughts of action and I’ve decided to do a monthly basics (loo rolls, dog food, tins and pasta etc) shop online so it gets delivered. If I run out I’ll try to do without unless they sell it at my little post office-cum-newsagents which sells a few grocery staples.

Then every week I’ll get an organic box delivered - i’ve discovered a very ethical farm who does this less than a mile from me - they also do organic free range eggs.

Finally i’m getting milk, in a glass bottle, delivered to my doorstep. Now this is a wonderful British tradition. Little milk floats chunkering down the streets and the sound of a cheerful whistle and the clink of bottles on the doorstep. I’m sure milk tastes better out of glass rather than plastic!

Mission will hopefully be accomplished as shops are avoided as much as possible, certainly the big stores.   I’m using local providers, which may be more expensive but I figure avoiding shops and trips to supermarkets to get things will save a fortune in getting sidetracked by special offers, hunger pangs etc.  I’ll also avoid the stress of coping with the huge choice of products, the heaving masses and  endless queues.

But today I’m not firing on all cylinders and still feel weak as a kitten with hopeless coordination. After phoning the milk company to find that they mistook my message and left my milk two doors down, I took Heek for a walk and picked up the 2 pints on my return, hoping that nobody thought I was stealing it.

I put it the milk on a window ledge while I tried to get the key in the door, grappling with the Heek who decided he wasnt’t ready to end his walk.

SMASH! A pinta falls over on the wall and smashes.  Milk pours onto the pavement.  Dog tries to start drinking it.  I grab dog away from glass and take him in and up to flat, find dusban, brush and newspaper go down to clear mess, realise finger is leaking blood, as milk starts turning pink.  I clear the glass, wrap and put it in the bin, go up, wrap my bleeding finger in tissue and get a bowl of water to slosh onto the milky mess.

SMASH! I don’t believe it. I rush down to find bottle two has fallen to ground. Go up get dustban brush repeat first series of actions.

Why didn’t I move second bottle to ground? I DON’T KNOW!

I took my dog out for his final walk last night. Normally we walk at the back of the castle on the marshland and country spreading across to the beach where he can do his business and it does not need clearing up anymore than the sheep poo or cow pats do. But at night we just walk five minutes up the road, often past the pond and on this particular night he decided to do it on the grass verge.

‘Great!’ i thought fishing in my pockets for doggy bag. I hate clearing poo and always feel embarrassed at being seen handling and clearing the stuff. Suddenly I saw a man, just across the street, standing motionless and staring at us. I waited for him to go as I wasn’t about to bend down and get a cosh on the head or something.

We had a strange stand-off as I stood with the Heek, waiting for him to get lost so I could clear up the mess and go, and he stared so that I started getting a prickle of unease rippling up my back as he just continued, standing there .

Then he spoke “I’m waiting to see if you’re going to clear it up.”

“Well would you mind going so I can get on with it?” I asked, thinking ‘officious plonker!’

“I’ll wait,” he said continuing to stare.

“I’m not going to do it with you there. It’s dark, i’m a lone woman albeit with dog,and you are a man just staring at me, so please go.” I asked.

He got into a car a few yards away. This was even more scary as I hadn’t heard him get out of any car so he must have done it quite quietly. Then instead of driving off he sat in the car. It was only a few yards from us. Did I tie H up and clear up, risking the fact he was a nutter and would take advantage of my tethered dog to get out of his car and approach me? Did I try to clear up holding H, risking bending down but knowing H would see him approach (but H is only a little dog so not a great deterrent. He’d bark like crazy but British apathy may not respond to a barking dog and a lone woman’s scream?) Or was I being completely paranoid and was he just a local nerd who fancied himself as the local by-law enforcement officer?

Fortunately he drove off, and I went to tether H and get on with it.

Unfortunately, as I went back with doggy bag the car had done a loop and drove slowly past again, really freaking me out so I rushed over to untether H. As I was panicking it became tangled and much harder than it should have been.

Fortunately the car continued on its way.

Unfortunately by the time I had untethered H, and gone back to where I thought the offending mess was, I couldn’t find it.

Picture strange woman and dog walking along in the dark, peering at grass verge while looking fearfully over shoulder, every few minutes.

So all you guys, please be sensitive to the fact that you may seem to be a threat if you stand and stare, or follow a woman or even walk behind her at night even if you really are just a wierd nerdy plonker.

Wishing you all a very very happy Christmas, with oodles of all you wish for yourself:-

Relatives who like each other and don’t fall out on Christmas Day.

Children who wait until after six, to start shrieking in delight, unwrapping presents and thrusting their new singing dancing bear in bed with you.

A turkey that defrosts and cooks in time.

At least a couple of programmes that you really want to watch, get to watch in peace, and which turn out to be as good as the the TV magazine promised.

No monstrous creations you have to wear on the day such as an outsize knitted patchwork jumper from your ancient gran because it may be the last thing she knits and the last Christmas she has the pleasure of seeing it worn.

Presents you really want; food or booze if relatives can’t run to the latest laptop, a giant flat screen tv or a holiday to the Seychelles.

Being allowed to snooze after the meal rather than being forced join a jolly, embarrasing Christmas walk with all your strange relatives through the streets where everyone knows you.

Nooky at some point (but not when relatives are likely to stagger in shouting ‘let’s play charades!’)

I went to the theatre recently, and everybody stood up for the National Anthem. They only played the first verse but here it is in full, together with the modern interpretation.

1. God save our gracious Queen,
Long live our noble Queen,
God save the Queen!
Send her victorious,
Happy and glorious,
Long to reign over us;
God save the Queen!
(YEAH WE HAVE A QUEEN. GOOD ON HER.)

2. O Lord our God arise,
Scatter her enemies
And make them fall;
Confound their politics,
Frustrate their knavish tricks,
On Thee our hopes we fix,
God save us all.

(DON’T LET THE BASTARDS GET TO HER)

3. Thy choicest gifts in store
On her be pleased to pour;
Long may she reign;
May she defend our laws,
And ever give us cause
To sing with heart and voice,
God save the Queen!
(GIVE HER LOTS OF DOSH, LET HER LIVE TILL SHE’S OLD
AND SHE’LL STICK UP FOR US ALL.)

4. Not in this land alone,
But be God’s mercies known,
From shore to shore!
Lord make the nations see,
That men should brothers be,
And form one family,
The wide world over.
(ANTI WAR SENTIMENT)

5. From every latent foe,
From the assassins blow,
God save the Queen!
O’er her thine arm extend,
For Britain’s sake defend,
Our mother, prince, and friend,
God save the Queen!

(PICK ON ME, I’LL TELL THE QUEEN

AND SHE’LL GETCHA!)

6. Lord grant that Marshal Wade
May by thy mighty aid
Victory bring.
May he sedition hush,
And like a torrent rush,
Rebellious Scots to crush.
God save the Queen!

(ERM…CAN WE WIN EVERYTHING,

AVOID FLOODS, AND BEAT THE SCOTTISH AT RUGBY

AND FOOTBALL AND TOSSING THE KABER?)

Thirty odd years ago everyone would stand proudly and bellow the verses lustily. Now some are surprised to hear it and to be expected to stand, and although everyone complied there was a sense of avoiding eye contact and feeling embarrassed. Despite the flaws in the Royal family we are incredibly fortunate to have our Queen and many won’t realise it until she has gone. She has given her all.