Pickering Museum Village

We attended the Museum's very lovely "Christmas in the Village" thingie on the weekend. Can't say enough nice things about it. Scoob and Baby Man cavort on the path through the Perfectly Wintry Forest leading to the village. I think it was minus 40 Celsius.

The village suddenly appears after we emerge from the forest, cross a frozen creek, wonder why there is nothing but snow-covered fields for miles, and round a corner. Nice and frigid now. Hoping they have fires.


We hurl our frozen selves into the first house we see - it turns out to be a log house, with a nice crackling fire, filled with Scottish womenfolk preparing for Hogmanay, the Scottish celebration of the New Year.


Their cottage made me a little broody.


After cider, stamping to drive out evil spirits, chanting rhymes and learning that red-heads and women are Bad Luck and must not darken the New Year's door before the tallest, darkest haired man in the village, our cockles are warm enough to head back out into the snow.


As I stand gazing dreamily at this picturesque little house, the small things spy/are almost trampled by horses.



Scooby and Baby Man score front row seats, up with the drivers, and are in Urchin Ecstacy. Horse on your left is Annie. Horse on your right is Mindy.


They take us on a long carriage ride through the village and fields, often with the horses at a fast trot, bells a-jangling.


Now we're losing our extremities again, so we dive into another building, this one full of The Village Singers whose voices reverberate nicely in the sparse, chilly chapel. There is no fire, but we all press together like a herd of stranded cattle, steam rising from our backs.




Back out, we discover Father Christmas hanging out in front of the General Store. Scoob and Baby Man are suspicious of his youthful beard.


We follow The Grey Horse - a symbol of good luck and fertility - and a bunch of wassailing Welshmen - to a Welsh cottage heavy with the wonderful smell of rum and cider, where they ply the big folks with hot wassail, the little folks with hot cider, and all of us with currant cakes. Core temperatures restored, we dive back out into the biting cold and do some traditional Welsh Christmas crafts until our fingers turn black and fall off.

It's time to find another refuge, so we join Squire Jonathan's Christmas Ball for music and dancing.



The dancers perform the Grand March, the Duke of Kent & New Rig Ship, the Lancer's Quadrille, and the Spanish Waltz.


Scooby leaps up and joins the Roger De Coverly! This is the dance performed by Old Fezziwig's employees at the warehouse Christmas party.



Then we huddle desperately around one last woodburning stove, before trekking back through the beautiful forest, and heading home for some Traditional Spinach Pizza and Eggnog.

HW