As is tradition in the Briggs household, our festive gluttony was once again delayed a day until Boxing Day, where we were sure to make good the lack of turkey, trifle, and other indulgences from the day before. My mum cooked up a storm with a lovely Christmas Dinner, featuring turkey, pigs in blankets, stuffing and all the vegetables and trimmings you could possibly want.
Post-feasting and after an evening of party games, we felt guilty after having gorged ourselves so, and decided to head out once again into the surprisingly mild country air. I was interested in seeing how the flooding had subsided, and I thought I might as well go out into the mud seeing as my Docs were still caked in mud after our Christmas Eve wandering.
The floods of the day before had actually left minimal damage, besides a ricketier than usual road up to the top of the hill. Having only to dodge a few newly formed lakes along the route, we easily made our way around the reservoir and back home before dark.
It was lovely and refreshing to head outside, especially after having spent so much time inside switching instantaneously from gouging on turkey to shovelling handfuls of jelly beans and Quality Street into my face. We were soon back, however, motivated by the premise of a lovely warm mug of tea and some of the home-made Victoria Sponge which I’d made a couple of days prior. Bliss.
As most of England are probably aware at this point, it’s been a tough few days for The North. Lancashire, Yorkshire and Cumbria have all been hit by some of the worst flooding in living memory, with homes, businesses and infrastructure destroyed or at a complete standstill.
Obviously we didn’t want to add to anybody’s woes by heading out in our cars to engage in some kind of sadistic sightseeing, however we heard news that our village square had flooded, and so grabbed our coats and walked on down to assess the damage and see if we could help out in any way.
Thankfully when we arrived the water was flowing away and very much under control. Residents had come together to open all the drain covers to encourage water flow, and also to construct a makeshift flood defence across one of the roads to stave off the flooding of some of the oldest, most at-risk cottages and homes.
The water was flowing very quickly, however, and of cause for great concern, as my village sits in one of the least at-risk areas for flooding in the region – our neighbours have all said they’d never thought they’d see the day when Worsthorne flooded. As my mum and dad headed back up to the house to continue with our boxing-day meal preparations, I hung around for a bit longer to try and find the source of all this running water.
With my shoes already ruined from our Christmas Eve wanderings over the countryside, I headed around the back of the village church to find out where all this water was rushing in from. Turns out that most of it had flown down from the fields, overwhelming the drainage system and accumulating at the rear of the churchyard, from where it was being funnelled down a tiny angled alleyway which was giving it the powerful speed which made it seem so dangerous.
The scene was awful, with the old stone walls bowing under the pressure of the fast-moving water, and jets of water spouting from holes in the churchyard pavement and the road behind.
Thankfully the water has since subsided, and nobody was hurt during our wettest Boxing Day (or any day in fact) on record. We have since been through the village and everyone has done a fantastic job of clearing away the silt, removing the flood barriers and getting life just back to it’s normal, sleepy little village rhythm.
Well, of course I must begin with a wholehearted Merry Christmas to all! I hope everyone is enjoying their Bucks Fizz, Christmas Dinner and Sherry Trifle – we have a custom of throwing pizzas in the oven on Christmas Day and enjoying the customary gluttony on Boxing Day, so I am free to graze on chocolate and jelly beans and leftover takeaway – and just to generally be a layabout.
First up I had to shuffle some furniture around to get the huge tree into a position where it would actually fit under my sloping roof, and then I spent an evening decorating the huge thing. Then, after a trip to Leeds where I stuffed bags and bags full of the cheapest decorations, tinsel and lights that I could find, I set about concealing the usual minimal aesthetic behind a layer of what my mother would call “tack”.
I am quite happy with the result, a lovely warm room (in great contrast to my usual aesthetic) which has gotten me in the festive spirit over the past few weeks! These decorations do hold a secret, however, which I shall reveal in a week or so…
I was rudely awoken this morning by my sister who decided that she was going with her friend, Lucy, for a wander around our local reservoir, Hurstwood Reservoir. I decided I wasn’t happy with her wandering by herself, and so took the opportunity to get out of bed and go for a wander.
Lucy had brought her boss’ dog, Benji, along for a walk, and I had brought my camera (naturally). We headed through the village of Hurstwood and headed through the forest up to the reservoir, having a good old chat and catch up along the way…
The beautiful surroundings, however, were soon marred by our idiocy once the camera had come out…
Look at this excellent dog!
After fooling around by the water’s edge, we thought it best to move on along. I got really excited and jumped in a puddle, having forgotten that my Docs now have a hole in them, and so had to squelch my way back home.
Also, Ellie nearly fell down a hill, Lucy dropped some chocolate in the mud, and I nearly did my back in trying to limbo under a fence. Was still a lovely trip though.
Once again I have hit a time in my life when things have gotten ridiculously busy, and so my poor old blog has been neglected for nearly a month. Have no fear, however, for I am back – and with only a week left until Christmas!
Speak of festivities, as a family (plus my sister’s boyfriend), we decided that there’d be no place more jovial to visit than the ancient city of York. To this end, we hopped in a car and argued and sang our way across the Lancashire/Yorkshire border, headed through an eery little tunnel, and wandered through an arch into the old walled city.
As you may have guessed by the title of this post, York has suffered the brunt of the latest bout of newly named storms that the UK has had to bear. With the amount of rainwater inundating the city, the river that runs through the heart of the city had burst its banks in the most spectacular fashion…
There wasn’t going to be much walking down this footpath today.
We soon landed at one of the cities most famous (and most huge) landmarks: York Minister Cathedral. The aim of the day was a spot of Christmas shopping, however, and so we opted not to head inside, but rather I just took a few snaps of the exterior as we wandered past.
After a quick snack, me and my dad left my mum, sister and company to head down towards some of the older buildings down by the river. It soon became very clear that not only had the parks and walkways around the riverbanks taken an influx of water, but that countless businesses and homes had been seriously affected too. It was a sobering reminder of how dangerous things like this can be, and the flooded areas were hauntingly quiet and still, with the fast moving flow of water the only distraction from the submerged buildings.
The streets were disappearing into the water.
We had soon crossed the river, over a bridge the top of whose arches barely rose two feet above the surface of the water. On the other side we found yet more flooded streets, with impromptu temporary bridges built to permit access to buildings on the riverside. Modern buildings had very effective flood barriers in place, with an underground car park remaining bone dry despite sitting a good ten feet under the new water level.
As we crossed back towards the centre of York once more, the extent of the water’s spread inland became very clear, with whole parks and car parks unrecognisable under the water. One of York’s famous old tower monuments, which sits atop a grassy hill, looked rather resplendent with it’s reflection sitting below.
It soon became dark, and we all soon became hungry, and so after a jostle around the Christmas Markets for a while, we headed out to find somewhere to eat. Heading through York’s famous Shambles, we stumbled upon a lovely little Italian where I discovered that I do, in fact, like tomatoes, and so that my whole life up to this point has been one massive lie.
Things will never be the same for me…
You are currently browsing the Ollie Briggs blog archives for December, 2015.
