But as long as it's just a bit of fun I guess it's ok. I don't mind joining in and every year I include a gallery of photographs in my village magazine. I usually take them off Facebook after asking permission to use them.
The shops are beginning to have displays and for us, with relatively young grandchildren, it's a never ending list of things running down to the end of the year.
First we have the other threequarters' birthday and then my birthday and then Hallowe'en and then Bonfire night and then Christmas and New Year.
I do have to say they had some horrendous and rather scary Halloween costumes at The Range when we went there a few days ago. They were so bad that I almost bought one. Note I said almost.
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So a trip to Yorkshire. Let me tell you about our journey, the pub we are staying in, the town we visited yesterday and of course the concert which was the reason we went in the first place.
I am always aware when writing these blogs that I can alienate some readers by continually talking about football, sport and music.
Unfortunately these are my interests. I do try to make the blog as interesting as possible but you aren't very likely to catch me talking much about gardening or cars, although I have done a fair bit of the former this week and on Saturday cut the grass for what I'm hoping will be the last time this year. At the end of last season I left it too late for the final cut and so it was rather unkempt all winter. There we are I've talked about gardening. I have to report that my car has a new horn so watch out you Yorkshire drivers as I'm once again licenced to blow my own horn which is a little bit like blowing my own trumpet which I probably do too much of.
It's a strange phrase anyway. Who else's trumpet would you blow other than your own? Excuse me can I borrow your trumpet I need to blow it.
But back to our trip. I'm always worried when we have to get somewhere for a certain time that we won't make it. Remember my reunion last year when we left plenty of time to get to Harlow in Essex but never made it due to a serious accident on the A 11.
Well yesterday our destination was Huddersfield Town Hall. It was the first time I have been to Huddersfield. Queue a joke remark.
One cow to another cow " how do your udders feel today? "
Sorry about that. It was completely uncalled for.
We set off at 9 am and thankfully this time apart from a small stretch of slow traffic on the M 1 there were no problems getting to Huddersfield or getting parked (more of that later).
So we had a good three hours to look around the town and spent an hour of that gazing into a bowl of pea and mint soup. Ok we ate it as well.
Then a long walk round town and it turned out to be quite an interesting place. I've certainly been to worse. I took a few pictures which I will post when we get back home. Unfortunately the battery ran out mid shoot.
Now an admission. I believe I'm being stalked. Remember when in Spain I was approached by a bloggette. Well it happened again in Huddersfield. I met up with mate Laurie who I was at college with eons ago. We had a drink on the bar although my lemonade was flat and they didn't have orange juice to put with it.
Two young ladies walked behind me.
"Watch what you say or you'll be in a blog tomorrow," one said to the other.
It took me a while to cotton onto the fact that they were talking to me. They recognised me but I think they are spies. One went under the codename Mildred. I will get to the bottom of this.
I will also comment on the concert tomorrow as it was rather a lot to take in for one afternoon. When we left the Town Hall we found our car park was closed up. Apparently it shuts at 5 pm on Sundays and this was close to 7 pm. Thankfully there was another couple in the same predicament as us and together we found somebody to open the gates up. He was very obliging and even waived the parking charge of £2 which applies on a Sunday.
We drove to the pub at the strange sounding name of Thurstonland and was just in time for a wapping great pork burger. I searched our room to ensure no bloggettes were hiding in the bathroom. More about all this tomorrow when I might have established the real name of Mildred.