Things that go 'bump' in the night, Should not really give one a fright. It's the hole in each ear That lets in the fear, That, and the absence of light! .............................................Spike Milligan.

I had a brief encounter with Spike Milligan many decades ago when I worked in the North Pole and not many people can say that and look you straight in the eye!

Sadly the boring truth behind the head-line is that whilst I actually did work in the North Pole it is not necessarily the one that you immediately think of, no it was The North Pole road WC10 in London. However the brief encounter with Spike Milligan was exactly as described as it was both brief and involved the eccentric that was Spike Milligan.

I was working in an Off Licence, part time, and it was not too unusual to have TV personalities turn up on occasions as we were very close to the BBC TV studios. I cannot remember what he bought or for that matter which of us served him, but the only thing that is frozen in my aged brain's permafrost is that it was a Saturday afternoon and he was wearing his pyjamas and a dressing gown.

But that's cool, I guess.    He was about 56 years old and as a grown up he could do what he wanted as long as it harmed no one. So why do I regale you with this anecdote other than to drop some famous guys name into my blog to catch more search engines so as to get more hits (I never met ELVIS PRESLEY because ELVIS PRESLEY never came to England........ unlike JESUS). There that should increase the Blog's hits!
Well this morning I was trawling through the sea of T shirts in my chest of draws when I came across one that looked really rather nifty and for the life of me that I could not remember buying. Mmmm, did Mum buy it for me? Naaa, did Alison get it for me, naaaa, I tried it on and it fitted! Well maybe it was my sons...... nope not his style. So at a loss I left it on as my shirt of the day.

When Claire got up she happened to notice that I was wearing a 'new' shirt and for a horrid moment I thought it was hers. However Claire managed to dismiss that thought by just a few words, "Isn't that from the Pyjamas you bought to go to hospital in last year?"                                          Mmmmmm,  maybe.
For she was right, it all came flooding back to me, big shop, some Town, somewhere, some time I did indeed buy some poshish PJ's and now I come to think of it this came from that set.

The thing is I really took a shine to this shirt / pyjama top and it felt, well like, well comfy and I suppose that familiar, comfy cosy feeling was what Spike liked so much, or he was just pissed! Despite Claire's protests I elected to keep wearing the shirt/PJ for the remainder of the day, which as it turned out, became a very sunny day and so there was no need for a jumper or coat. I could proudly wear it where all could admire it.

I don't understand why Claire found it weird as it is my understanding that all the fashionable Asda Yummy Mummys are going to the shops in their PJ's now. We were in Melton Constable last year and in the middle of the day a lady was pushing a pram down the High Street and she too was wearing her dressing gown & PJ's. Frankly I think I'm a little behind the times!   So we strolled around the Auction rooms in Fakenham for an hour and bought some veg and meat from the market and not a head was turned.

I'm not eccentric, no Burlington Bertie was eccentric! To anyone who lived in Worthing in the 1970/80's Burlington Bertie was some thing of a celebrity in the town. He used to dress up in what I can only describe as 'dandy' clothing fashioning himself on a music hall character from a song of the same name. A long song (check Wikipedia) he acted out many of the moments on the street with a flamboyancy that meant you could not help but turn to watch him. He wore a bright red jacket, bright white trousers,a straw boater and very extrovert glasses. His hands, in dazzling white gloves, would make gentle dances in the air breaking away to vivaciously direct the traffic.

I dress up in fashion

And when I am feeling depressed

I shave from my cuff all the whiskers and fluff

Stick my hat on and toddle up West

I'm Burlington Bertie I rise at ten thirty

and saunter along like a toff

I walk down The Strand with my gloves on my hand

Then I walk down again with them off

This could be off putting as he would plant himself, with his dandy bicycle, on the busiest of junctions. Further more he had on the back of his bike a Tape deck that blasted out rousing Land of Hope and glory style music which would add further to his dramatic dancing hands whilst encouraging a trace of the Monty Pythons silly walks to boot.
        The man was harmless and well kind of made you smile which is not a bad thing is it?   I can remember one of my delivery drivers arriving at my back door spitting blood (metaphorically speaking), he explained that some nut (Burlington Bertie) was prancing about on the side of the road and as the driver was distracted by him the lights changed and he hit the car in front. The lorry driver was more incensed as when he looked back at Burlington Bertie he had totally stopped his little show and looking straight at the driver held up his white gloved index finger, clenching the rest of the hand, he slowly waved the scolding finger at the driver like a metronome. It was as if he was saying tut, tut, tut who's a naughty boy then?

Eccentrics are everywhere, there was Slack Alice in the Goring road, Worthing. We always knew when she arrived because the first thing you heard was her Ships anchor chain being threaded around the handles of the front doors of the supermarket to FIRMLY secure her three wheel bike. She spent some 5 minutes in this operation effectively shutting down the use of one of the entrance doors as people had to negotiate the 'cordoned off area'. She would then come into the store and sit on the pallet size display of granulated sugar. Now Slack Alice was not young, nor was she petite, the three wheel bike was required out of necessity for it really had to be load bearing, neither did she present herself as a clean, neat person. She could not have been more scruffy, with her long grey hair getting caught under her bottom as she sat on the display of sugar methodically going through a pile of Chump Chop labels going back many, many weeks.
You see the chump chop was the cheap cut of lamb and whilst the one chump chop that she bought each week was nearly the same price each time the weight would of course vary and she would get very passionate that the last one was half a pence more and why was that. So I would have to have the same conversation, each week, she would show me everyone of her 20 previous blood stained chump chop labels and I would lose 10 minutes of my life explaining that one chop was slightly heavier than the next. She would then drift through the store doing a little bit of shopping and a lot of moaning to the other customers (whom had all been put of buying their sugar that week) about the price of Chump Chops and finally ending in a crescendo of tumbling heavy duty metal chains at the front door as she launched her bike out onto the high street totally oblivious to the horns of the cars swerving to avoid her.


Claire, I AM NOT ECCENTRIC, I am 51 and appreciate comfortable clothes, it just so happens that they clearly do not come as comfy as PJ's!






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The kiss of the sun for pardon the song of the birds for mirth. One is nearest God's Heart in a garden Than anywhere else on earth.

I am back on the decorating or at least I would be but the sun was out today and the forecast predicts rain tomorrow so naturally I re-organised my day and headed to the garden. Make hay while the sun shines, as the saying goes, and that is exactly what I did by getting the mower out and attacking the lawn. The lawn was already fairly short but the moss has taken hold and so I wanted to give it the shortest cut possible to tackle the moss. Well it certainly did produce some 'hay', about 30 trimmings box loads, enough to completely fill a 30ltr compost bin. It looks really good, not the compost bin I mean the lawn, although the compost bin is brand new and does look quite good I suppose, for a compost bin that is.
The previous owner clearly loved Primroses as they are everywhere and all colours popping out of the lawn, flower beds and the path. They look great, very cottagey. When we were viewing the house once we met the guy that mowed the lawn for him and he was mowing around some cowslips that were growing in several places in the lawn as the previous owner had always asked him to avoid them. Well I have been doing the same, out of respect, and as the Primroses grow on the same patches it looks really nice at the moment even though the Cowslips are still to show themselves. As you can see our cat, Scribble, loves the Daffodils although you shouldn't be fooled as she only likes them because it gives her cover to watch the birds from, and dream........

Having made the garden look the business I took tea with Claire, alfresco, and the pure peace, serenity and tranquillity of the place needed soaking up. Sometimes we are so head down that we don't stop and enjoy what we have achieved. In fairness to the previous owner, what he had achieved and I merely refreshed, but none the less the garden evokes an atmosphere in which I felt I was pulled into some involuntary meditation. I was reminded of the above poem which is engraved in a stone slab at a very peaceful view point in our old village in West Hoathly Church yard. I have a hundred and one things happening and to organise but in my garden, right here, right now that poem summed up the moment.

Earlier in the day I had the last trade to come and quote for the renovation plumbing work that is required to bring the annex up to the 21st Century. I know that all this work is going to cost a lot and it may even be out of our budget and so it is with intrepidation that I await the return of all the quotes. If we cannot afford to refurbish the annex now, I think it will be many years before we will next be able to do so ~ it is really fundamental to our pans and I have to admit to being very concerned that it will be too expensive to achieve.

Ah well only time will tell.






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Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife ...................................................Thomas Gray

I love London, but I wouldn't want to live there.

I must qualify this by adding that I am a native Londoner and when the circumstances arose that caused me to leave The Smoke I really didn't want to go. I was 16 years old and I guess that was the age that London just started to get interesting. An awareness of the frenzied life and lives that gave the Great Metropolis its' Mojo, the markets, the shops, the music, the venues, the FREE museums, the London Underground tubes...... Everything.

I used to hate PE, particularly weedy, along with a group of others that had their own misfit reasons for skipping the PE lessons I opted to do Social Service tasks instead. It would have seemed odd to many that I should skip PE in this way as I was in the Rugby team (and enjoyed every minute of it), I did cross country for the school and had enjoyed rowing on the Thames (and some times swimming there too, not by design) and even took up fencing.... On guard! Sadly my enthusiasm for PE waned as a result as of the actions of a particularly nasty and vicious bully whom I found it preferable to avoid. So instead me and another student used to go and help an elderly lady with chores for three hours every Wednesday afternoon. Her husband had clearly suffered a debilitating stroke which left him with practically no control including the inability to speak, other than soft mumbles. The love that this lady had for her husband (and devotion) was inspiring and even as I write this some 35 years later I can still feel a breathlessness within me as I recall how I admired her. She, and only she, knew exactly what his soft mumbles meant and she would move a cushion here or ask us to help re-sit him, whatever it was, it always appeared to be the right thing. I guess she was probably exhausted most of the time but I feel that the lessons from that experience alone have touched me far more in my life than a bit of PE.

Anyway, where am I going with this.....  I was 16 and this Lady like to buy the finer things in life and accordingly she would frequently ask us to go to Barkers Department store in Kensington High Street to collect something or other that she had already paid for. We were scruffy oiks, untucked, grubby hands from, well from just about everything we were school boys, hair down to our shoulders and our school ties about 4" long as we had made the knot the size of a tennis ball. School ties went through a metamorphosis daily starting as a normal tie when you left home, by the time you got to school the ties tail had all but disappeared and the knot blown up to more of a chin rest than a tie and disappeared completely as we walked out the school gates. The girls in the school next to ours seemed to have a similar problem with their school skirts which apparently shrunk on the way to school but miraculously by the end of the day as they returned home covered their knees once again.

So there we were two scruffs walking into Barkers and in our best oik common way we approached the poshest of floor-walkers asking for Mrs X's order, which was normally a mohair rug or such like.
Well while we were out on the loose, we liked to travel around a little. We had caught the District Line in to Kensington High Street, which shared the same station with the Circle Line and it seemed to us that we could pop onto the Circle line and hop off some where else jumping on another train all the time knowing that we have got to get back to Ken. High street before we re-emerge from the bowels of London. Once we even stayed on the Circle line and did a complete tour of all the stations, it took about an hour and I remember that I was worried that she would think that we had been run over.I have to report that as sightseeing tours go it is the one in which you see the fewest sights, mainly just black, with the odd glimpse of daylight at a couple of stations, still great for people watching, I got to see all the weirdos.

It was that buzz, that interaction with thousands of people, posh, nobility, common, black, white, even blue, just people all different all going God knows where or why, for all I knew half of them had been on the Circle line all day. It was this madding crowd that made it all so exciting and it is this same madding crowd that drives me round the twist today. Why do I write this on my blog? Well on Friday my Daughter treated me to a Daddy / Daughter day as for my birthday she took me down to London to see the Titanic exhibition. Fascinating stuff, I have always been interested in the rise and fall off the Titanic and to see these artefacts that had been pulled up two miles from the ocean bed was incredible. We had a great day, popping over to St Katherines Docks where there was a festival of world foods and the tower of London too. As I say I love London, but I wouldn't want to live there and by late afternoon I started to feel my middle age intolerances start to kick-in.

Claire says that I mutter things too loudly, perhaps she is correct, I can't really say but for Gods sake does that guy have to blow his fag smoke right in my path?  Awwe that stinks, he's smoking pot, disgusting, core how fat is she, do you think there'll be any space on the train for us! What do those girls look like? Are those actually shorts or belts? Why does that guy think I want to listen to his music, and that girl on her mobile, cracking on about her love life. At this point I can sense that Claire is getting a little exasperated with me, "Sssshh, he'll hear you!", "Good then he might move to the side with his great big suit case on wheels swaying around like a poorly towed caravan and we can all get past him!" "You are very loud" she pointedly replied just as I go on to ask her opinion in regard to whether the person walking towards us was a boy or a girl..... or indeed a midget.
When we got to the train at Kings Cross, I was pretty well in full grouch mode. We ran to the far end of the train to try to get past the hoards of commuters all knocking off early because it was a Friday, lazy gits. We only managed to get two separate seats, each side of the aisle and as I sat on mine I felt a dampness under my left cheek. Having made a point of 'going' before catching the train, I knew it was not me, so I checked only to see that the brain dead zombie fixated on his Nintendo Playstation 'I' bloody player thingy next to me was so wrapped up with his head phones droning into his gormless form that he had not realised that his half drunk bottle of Sprite was dribbling all over my seat! Even when I told him he just grunted - no apology or by your leave, which I pointed out to Claire whom seemed not to want to know me for some reason.

THEN, with just two minutes to go the train driver announces that the train isn't working and that he will have to close the doors for a minute whilst he reboots it. The doors all shut and the lights went out as he actually 'rebooted' the bloody train as if it were just a little Laptop playing up a bit! Well that filled us with confidence I can tell you.
For the next hour and a half I sat with one cheek on the seat and the other hanging over the aisle to avoid said leakage all the time in awe that so many people even know where Kings Lynn is let alone are actually going there!


All of this goes to demonstrate two things, number one that I may just, perhaps, be getting a little intolerant in my old age and not quite the 16 year old of my past. Secondly that my Daughter must have the heart of an Angel to even consider taking me down to The Smoke (something else she said I shouldn't call it in front of the locals, as it is a little derogatory I am given to believe).
No my love for London started to diminish a few years after moving away from it, we moved to Birmingham, now in the 70's that was a stark and grey concrete soulless place (in my opinion), so when I finally got to live in a village, well I had found my heaven and then after 24 years to more to an even more remote part of the country, well, if you ask my Daughter, or indeed any of my immediate family, I think they will all agree that London can only be better off without me!





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I like work; it fascinates me. I can sit and look at it for hours. ...............................Jerome K. Jerome

I have finally managed to pick up a paint brush again. It was not that I was in some way physically handicapped and therefore unable to literally pick up a paint brush, nor was it that I had some kind of phobia for which I have been consulting the best psychiatrists and part-taking in a course of acupuncture. Sadly not as those reasons appear to be far more ingratiating than the truth, which is all the damned paperwork and red tape that I have been trying to untangle.

The current situation is that we are waiting for several Companies to return quotes to us. So far some of them have already given quotes on different options but at present, based on the affordability of the other quotes we are striving to set up one B&B room and a holiday cottage. We have agreed a price with a plumber regarding the B&B's en-suite and are just waiting for a start date for that job and so the DIY work that I need to do must kick start now, which it has.

The Cottage however has a lot of quotes still to come in AND we have still yet to compose the planning permission request, which has to be done carefully as any errors will get it dismissed and as it costs £375 for the privilege of simply asking for the status to be changed from residential to a Holiday Let, we can ill afford to cock up this paperwork.

So there is still a lot of office work to do, registering with the Cash & Carry, obtaining Environmental Health Office clearance (after reading their 150 page rules book& watching the DVD that came with it!), joining the B&B association, organising the design and printing of the leaflets and Business cards, signing a contract with the local Tourist Board, completing the 'deal' with the Accountant and many other more trivial but necessary things of a similar nature. However I was getting really frustrated that I was not physically doing something to move the decorating onward and so I made a point of just stopping all of the above, picking up a paint brush and painting something.

The window frames and walls needed sanding down, filling and painting, so I set off yesterday to try to knock this item off our, fairly comprehensive, TO-DO LIST and it felt good. It is all very well touching up these window frames but there is an additional hurdle to leap, the glass it self. Throughout the house the previous owners used a dark brown wood stain, inside and out, which was put on with little or no care  with regards to the glass. There are drips of the creosote style liquid on 90% of the windows, no masking tape was used to protect the window glass and this messy stuff has dried to hard solid splash marks leaving nasty, hardened brown stains on most window panes. They are really hard to get off, but whilst in most family homes there are about 20 window pains here we have approximately 215 of the things, a regular Crystal Palace!

So I have got two window frames fully painted and I feel some progress has been mad. Alison and I went to B&Q and bought, the new en-suite but this may take up to 3 weeks to be delivered, so we know that we will not be operational until at least then.

The weather has been lovely and I have to confess to going for a bike ride first thing in the morning the other day. I saw two Hares right in the middle of an expansive field and just as I was about to take their photo they got wind of me and ran, but I still managed to get them and as you can see from the photo, neither of them appear to be touching the ground, they are really flying. The next day I saw another four Hares, that's six in two days and until about two years ago I can't remember seeing one in my life time! They really are massive and boy can they run, nay leap as they seem more like wallabies.

Looking forward to having the Family back together again as both the kids are back with us for the weekend.

Also it looks like lawn mowing this weekend too, if it doesn't rain!







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The year's at the spring, And day's at the morn; Morning's at seven; The hill-side's dew-pearled; The lark's on the wing; The snail's on the thorn; God's in his Heaven— All's right with the world! ........................................... Robert Browning

The arrival of Spring is like music to my ears as it is undoubtedly the month that I relish the most.
There are many reasons for this, that slight rise in the temperature, the first splash of colour from the bulbs, the conversation of the birds and most of all the promise of so much to come. It is the same with mornings, first thing you feel you can get so much done, then by lunch you realise that you probably won't achieve all your mornings aspirations and by Tea time you end up struggling to think of anything that you really actually achieved  But, way back in the morning, you had that sweet moment of ignorant bliss when you honestly, really, truly had an absolute belief, that totally lifted your spirit, making you really feel good because you know that you will do great things.

Well it is the same with Spring, to me, in that it is at the beginning of the seasonal year, the promise of new growth and the whole summer to achieve great things. Sadly this euphoria normally takes until mid Autumn before it wanes and the reality of what I have actually achieved compared to what I had planned eventually dawns on me.

However, I guess last year was an anomaly, one that broke the mold that genuinely delivered on that youthful Spring belief. Alison believed that she would find a job which she would really enjoy and that would allow us to move, I believed that I could take the almighty step, nay leap, of giving up my job and we both believed that we could find a house, somewhere in the Country where we would be happy to move to, but at that stage we had no idea where!

It is now a year later and so far Alison has found a job that she really enjoys, finds very rewarding and fulfilling and which has allowed us to move, I did take the almighty step, nay leap, of giving up my job and we both found a house, somewhere in the Country where we were happy to move to.
Neither of us has a single regret (so far!) and even if we do end up regretting the decisions of last year I am sure that many years down the road of life my regrets would have been far bigger that I had not even tried to do this.

"Stupid risks make life worth living."             Homer ....... (Simpson)

So I love Spring because of the promise of new exiting things to come and being deep in the rural heart ofthe British countryside you become so much more in touch with the seasons. You can't help hearing the sounds of Spring, the Wood Pigeons whoo, whoo, whoooing in the tree tops, the Cuckoo and the melodiousness of the dawn chorus.

I have a new garden, one that I have no idea what is gong to shoot up from within its dark loam. So far we have had snow drops, crocus and daffodils, tulips are following fast but there are loads of other bulbs appearing too like Hyacinths and what I think will be a carpet of Bluebells. You see Spring is the commencement of a period of discovery, having a new garden is akin to taking a photograph the old fashioned way, on film, and then watching the picture develop in the dark room. Bit by bit every nuance of the picture appears and finally (after a full years cycle in the case of the garden) you get to see the whole picture, really exciting.

The garden soaked up all the surrounding ambient sounds as I walked around it today. Yes that includes the odd car and lorry but also the sheep bleating which is a delightful noise and again a reminder that we are probably just weeks away from the arrival of the new lambs.

On the way home from Wells-next-the-sea the other day we saw some March Hares in a field of low stubbly fresh green growth. I was not sure exactly which crop it was but rest assured the Hares were literally having a field day, run rabbit, run rabbit, run, run, run...........

So what promise does this Spring offer us? The belief that we will get past all the red tape, that we will get at least one B&B room up and running within the month and that we will get our Annex up and running as a Holiday Cottage, hopefully this year.

Will our hopes all reach their expectation by the years end?      Who knows?

But the optimism of Spring certainly makes me feel that we can achieve it. So come back in a year and ask the question then and I hope I can say, YES....... yes we've achieved everything we set out to do.  We'll see eh........











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It's not that cats are obstinate, nor that they are determined, it is the fact that they are so obstinately determined that I have such antipathy to them being labelled 'domestic'. ............. Mike Thomas

Perhaps this Blog should be called 'Normal for Norfolk ..... and Cats', as I am only too aware that Scribble (our cat) has, on some occasions hijacked the core reason for the Blog. Which is all about The Old Bakery and, well check it out for yourselves on this page just to the left of these ramblings.
But, you see, we moved here as a family and the cat is very much a part of the family, one of the more difficult ones and as it turns out one of the more needy ones, but family none the less. What's more is that she is the only one that I share the house with for most of the time, the one I confide with, eat with, sit down and relax with and get thoroughly exasperated with for most of the week all we have is each other. You could say, that's a little bit sad isn't it and perhaps it is but we are both quite happy with our lot and I wonder how many non-'sad' people can truly say that about their lives.

As I started to write this I heard the patter of her little puds as she plodded down the stairs having spent the last 3 hours snoozing on the new Super King size bed snuggled into the folds of the most comfortable of duvets. Having strolled into the living room she has jumped up onto my lap, usurping the laptop that I was writing on, and curled up into a ball whilst I struggle to write the blog side saddle, as it were.

Oh by the way, I know I said we eat with each other well I didn't mean that I am that far gone that I prop the cat up in a comfortable chair, lay a table for two, with candles, the best plates, little kitty napkins, a bottle of château puddle water, and a mini scratching post for after meal relaxation. Of course not, candles are far to unsafe to have out whilst dining with a cat!
Thanks to Kitty Stampede's blog for the attached photo...

http://kittystampede.blogspot.com/2009/11/when-cats-sit-like-humans.html

No, one of us gets grilled lamb in a thick gravy with carrots and peas and I get the cheese on bloody toast! That said she still spends most of the time running figures of eight around my feet in anticipation that some of the cheese may fall her way. I understand that RoSPA say slips, trips and falls are the most common accidents in the home and lead to more than a million people going to hospital annually.
Well I reckon any house where someone has taken an unexplainable fatal fall need only  look to the cat for the reason. I bet they account for a large proportion of the million 'falls'.

As I said she is a very needy cat and most of the day she wants to be near me. Yesterday I had a lot to do in the office but she doesn't like the office so I let her in, she then spends 10minutes trying to coach me out of the office and I end up locking her back out of the room again. She will complain that I'm not 'playing' with her by use of much meowiness and I'll try to concentrate on the workload trying to ignore the whining.  I managed to ignore her and she finally gave up moaning, so I thought. The office directly faces the back porch, across our patio, and as I was really doing my best to get to grips with those fire regs I became aware of a presence in the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of Scribble who had run around the other side of the house through the cat flap, leapt onto the porch's window sill and was sitting there staring at me and very clearly (although I could not hear it) meowing for Britain. If you have ever watched the TV show Frasier, the stare was akin to the one that Eddy the dog would often give Frasier. The eyes were burning into my very psyche and every time I looked away, it was no good because I could still feel that burning stare. In the end I just couldn't concentrate and I had to go and let her into the garden.

Letting her into the garden is a problem as she has this habit of climbing a shrub to get on top of the wall that surrounds our garden and then leaping off the wall on the other side. Now she may have grim determination on her side when jumping off this 6' wall and landing with a thump, but one thing she hasn't got is forward planning skills. She has no idea as to how she is going to get back in the garden, all she knows is that she wants to have a little look around on the other side. This is the reason we lost her for a couple of days last time, she got out and couldn't get back in again, oh and I think she is rubbish at map reading too.

So today I had to go to the shops and buy another cat flap, this one however, I had to fit in our garden gate of all places. Now it was a particularly fiddly job and it took me about half an hour, sitting legs astride the gate fuffing around fitting this thing. Every now and then a neighbour would pass by and I could see that they clearly thought that I had totally misunderstood where cat flaps should be fitted. Well it was such a fiddly thing that I know where I felt like sticking it! Anyway with the job completed I went and grabbed said cat and, of course, she didn't want to clamber up the tree on to the wall. So I had to 'assist' her. Then she didn't want to jump off the wall, so again I had to 'assist' her (I felt a bit guilty but hey she had to learn), then she didn't want to go back through the cat flap.However after a good sniff of the thing she popped back into the garden, my mission was completed.

During the day I had two neighbours tell me how sorry they were that our cat was still missing. I was perplexed at this and explained that she had been found safe and well. Apparently there was a sign up in the window of the house next door about a lost 'FELIX LOOK-A-LIKE' cat, which would describe our cat well.
So I headed over to the sign to check it out and sure enough it described our cat fairly well. Then I had a horrendous thought. Suppose we had NOT found our cat at all, but this other persons cat instead! It went missing at the same time that we thought we had found our cat. As I was still asking myself if we would really have known if it was our cat and she had been more vocal than before and maybe we will need to get old photos out to ensure that we have really got the right one. Ooo, what a tadoo, and how will we get her back to her owners if she is not ours and then, naturally, perhaps there was a reward for returning the cat that we had stolen! It was about then that I got to the clincher, the deal breaker, the unequivocal truth that I had nothing to worry about as the sign went on to describe their cat in more detail.....
She has three legs.....

Well frankly, rather than comparing her to the Felix cat, I think it would have cut to the quick a bit more if it just said have you seen a three legged cat because we have lost one! Because the chances of there being two 3 legged cats in the vicinity were seriously low. Don't get me wrong my cat HAS got three legs...........  plus a spare!

So now my cat can come and go as she pleases, sure there comes a risk, but that was there anyway, all I've done is enabled her a route back into the garden. Because we may like to think that cats are domestic but they just do what they want, how and when they want to do it regardless of the consequences or of our wishes or control.
It's not that cats are obstinate, nor that they are determined, it is the fact that they are so obstinately determined that I have such antipathy to them being labelled 'domestic'.





1,046

“Skewered through and through with office-pens, and bound hand and foot with red tape” ................................................ Charles Dickens

 I have spent nearly four days reading and reviewing all the necessary legislation Actually I have spent a lot longer than that as I was reviewing legislation relating to B&B's over a year ago. It is very clear that each authority clearly thinks their bit of legislation is the singularly most important and that whilst it is very involved it is not an issue as the others probably aren't so involved so you should easily be able to devote more time to theirs. Sadly ALL of them are important (unquestionably) and ALL of them are very involved. Some are totally prescriptive whilst others are so called guides 'as properties are so individual'. They too have strict rules built in but also many grey areas that are left with the owner to evaluate. For example the building regs. dept. won't come around and advise prior to works and it is up to you to attempt to find them, try to identify which ones are appropriate and ensure that you are within the regulations prior to starting. As they just want to know how much your quotes add up to (this gives them the criteria of how much in fees to charge us) and a start date so they can visit the site to tell you everything that you may have missed when trying to research it in the first place.

 The Fire Regs. fall into the slightly vague, but interpret it incorrectly and your likely to get an improvement notice and incur several hundreds of pounds of extra building work. These two areas (Building Regs. & Fire Regs.) seem to bounce the odd requirement off to each other, "you can do this or that as long as it does not clash with any opposing Departments regulations"  Which they quite often do.

For example the Norfolk Planning Dept. consider a B&B officially needs planning permission for change of use to a Guest House if it has 50% of its rooms occupied by paying guests for 50% of the year. Whereas the Norfolk Building Regulations define that you come into the Guest House bracket if you have more than 6 people sleeping overnight made up of paying guests and including anyone who lives in the property on a long term basis, i.e. me and Alison.

So I continue to sift through the swamp of information to ensure that I am abiding by the needs of the wealth of official governing bodies out there, the:-
Trading Standards,
Envionmental Health,
Planning Dept.,
Building Regs.,
Fire Regs.,
The Tourist Board,
Parish Council,
The Tax man,
The local allotment association and
the woman that glances in my window every time she walks past giving my décor taste a critical once over.


After being told by the Fire Prevention Officer that they don't do house calls any more (well I hope that doesn't include when they are on fire) and that all the info I need can be downloaded on the internet. I proceeded to do that. The site very helpfully suggests that you don't down load the book but order it for just £12 as it is quite large at 144 pages. Too right! But I have to instruct builders and electricians, so I had to read it all on-line to try to make sure that I have got everything written into their respective 'specifications' so they can quote for all that is required (remember I need these quotes so the Building Regs Office can charge me the appropriate fee for their inspections).

Below is a collection of the more salient of the points from the 144 pages that I need to consider how I am going to tackle but they are not the only items as such. So I thought, if you fancied an extended read today, I would include them to give you a little sense of the volume of factors that just one of the afore mentioned official bodies presents for my attention.

And just perhaps by the weekend I'll find time to get back to decorating the guest bedroom again!



Fire Alarms

In simple premises of limited size/occupation e.r. ground and first floor with a small number of guests / residents, an alternative system of interconnected smoke alarms or point detectors, incorporating interconnected manual call points and, where necessary separate sounders may be acceptable.

The Fire warning sound levels should be loud enough to alert everyone, taking into account background noise. In sleeping areas, to ensure that people are woken, a sufficient sound level should be achieved at the head of the bed (i.e. 75dBA). This will usually mean the fitting of a sounder device in each bedroom.

Automatic Fire detection;

Grade D LD2          Houses in multiple occupation and small premises, e.g. bed and breakfast of up to two storey's (up to one floor above ground) with no floor greater than 200msq.
Therefore....   This grade means that we must have..... an automatic fire detection system (designed for dwellings) based on an interconnected mains powered smoke alarms (with Battery back-up) with detectors sited in escape routes (including rooms that open on to escape routes) and in rooms or areas that present a high fire risk to occupants, detailed in
BS 5839-6 (90).
If you are unsure that your existing system is adequate you will need to consult a competent person.


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Fire Extinguishers

In simple premises, having one or two portable extinguishers of the appropriate type, readily available for use, may be all that is necessary. In more complex premises, more portable extinguishers may be required and they should be sited in suitable locations, e.g. on the escape routes at each floor level. It may also be necessary to indicate the location of extinguishers by suitable signs.

Number and type of extinguishers
Typically for the Class A fire risk, the provision
of one water-based extinguisher for approximately
every 200m2 of floor space, with a minimum
of two extinguishers per floor, will normally
be adequate


In self-contained small premises multi-purpose
extinguishers which can cover a range of risks
may be appropriate. Depending on the outcome
of your fire risk assessment, it may be possible
to reduce this to one extinguisher in very small
premises with a floor space of less than 90m2.                      

Note to self;
Steward Safety Supplies Ltd
Steward House, The Drift Industrial Estate, Fakenham, Norfolk, NR21 8EF
Telephone: 01328 855253



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You should avoid having combustible wall and ceiling linings in your escape routes.    The new walls?

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Escape routes

In general there should be at least two escape routes from all parts of the premises but a single escape route may be acceptable in some circumstances (e.g. part of your premises accommodating less than 60 people or where travel distances are limited).

Escape routes that provide escape in a single direction only may need additional fire precautions to be regarded as adequate.

Exit doors on escape routes and final exit doors should normally open in the direction of travel, and be quickly and easily openable without the need for a key. Checks should be made to ensure final exits are wide enough to accomodate the number of people who may use the escape routes they serve.


Wherever practicable,
differences of level in corridors, passages and
lobbies should be overcome by the provision
of inclines or ramps of gradients not exceeding
I in 12 or steps not having less than three
risers in any flight. Corridors and passages
should be level for a distance of 1.5 metres in
each direction from any steps.


Fire-resisting construction
The type and age of construction are crucial
factors to consider when assessing the
adequacy of the existing escape routes. To
ensure the safety of people it may be necessary
to protect escape routes from the effects of a
fire. In older premises (see Appendix C for
more information on historical properties) it is
possible that the type of construction and
materials used may not perform to current fire
standards.

Reasonable standards of structural fire
resistance for normal risk buildings used for
sleeping accommodation can be found in
Approved Document B.24 Essentially, all upper
floors in sleeping premises should be of
30minutes fire resistance.
All corridors serving sleeping areas should be
protected routes with 30 minutes fire resistance.

• E30 fire-resisting door providing 30 minutes
fire resistance (or equivalent FD 30S).

Self-closing devices
All fire-resisting doors, other than those to
locked cupboards and service ducts should
be fitted with an appropriately controlled selfclosing
device that will effectively close the
door from any angle. In certain circumstances,
concealed, jamb-mounted closing devices may
be specified and in these cases should be
capable of closing the door from any angle
and against any latch fitted to the door; spring
hinges are unlikely to be suitable. Further
information is given in BS EN 1154.38

The minimum width of an escape route should
not be less than 750mm (unless it is for use by
less than five people in part of your premises)

As a general rule stairways should be at least
1050mm wide and in any case not less than
the width of the escape routes that lead to
them. In all cases the aggregate capacity of the
stairways should be sufficient for the number
of people likely to have to use them in case
of fire.

Escape routes Suggested range of travel distance (Note 3, Note 4)
Where only a single escape route 9m in a bedroomNote 1 and higher fire risk area (Note 2)
is provided 18m in normal fire risk area
25m in a lower fire risk area (Note 3)

Note 2:
Where there are small higher risk areas this travel distance should apply. Where the risk assessment indicates that the whole building is higher
risk, seek advice from a competent person.
Note 3:
The travel distance for lower risk premises should only be applied in exceptional cases in the very lowest risk premises where densities are
low, occupants are familiar with the premises, have excellent visual awareness, and very limited combustibles.
Note 4:
In areas of assembly such as function rooms, bars or restaurants which are completely separated from the sleeping accommodation then the
travel distances in the assembly guide can be used for those areas, e.g. for a normal fire risk area, 45m where more than one route is
provided and 18m where only a single escape route is provided.

When assessing travel distances you need to
consider the distance to be travelled by people
when escaping allowing for walking around
equipment, plant storage units etc. The
distance should be measured from all parts of
the premises to the nearest place of reasonable
safety which is:
• a protected stairway enclosure (storey exit);
• a separate fire compartment from which
there is a final exit to a place of total
safety; or
• the nearest available final exit.
The suggested travel distances may be
increased by the addition of further fire
protection measures, e.g. automatic fire
detection

For marquees, the travel distance from any part
of the structure having more than one exit
should be 24m – after the first 6.5m the
remainder of the route should lead in different
directions to alternative exits. Similarly, where
there is only one exit, the travel distance
should not exceed 6.5m.

Measuring travel distance
The figures that follow are schematic only and
are intended to represent part of a larger building.
The route taken through the room or space
will be determined by the layout of the
contents (Figure 23). It is good practice to
ensure the routes to the room exits are kept
as direct and as short as possible, especially
in accommodation where sleeping will occur,
thus reducing the time taken to exit the room.

Escape routes with dead end conditions
If your premises has escape routes from which
escape can be made in one direction only
(a dead end), then an undetected fire in that
area could affect people trying to escape.
To overcome this problem, limit the travel
distance (see Table 3 on page 70) and use one
of the following solutions.
• Fit an automatic fire detection and warning
system in those areas where a fire could
present a risk to the escape route, if not
already in place (see Figure 29).
• Construct the exit route of fire-resisting
partitions and self-closing fire doors to
allow people to escape safely past a room
in which there is a fire (see Figure 30).

It is possible that you may have some stairways
which have no fire protection to them. In this
case they are not designed for escape and are
normally known as accommodation stairways
(see accommodation stairways on page 83).
If you do not have a protected stairway and,
depending on the outcome of your fire risk
assessment, it may be that you can achieve
an equivalent level of safety by other means.
However, before doing so you should seek
advice from a competent person.

Accommodation stairways
If you have stairways that are used for general
communication and movement of people in
the premises, and they are not designated as
fire escape stairs then these are called
‘accommodation stairways’. They may not
require fire separation from the remainder of
the floor as long as they do not pass through a
compartment floor, or people have to pass the
head of such a stairway to reach an escape
stairway. However, experience shows that
many people will continue to use these as an
escape route.
Accommodation stairways need not be
enclosed at ground floor level but they should
be enclosed at all other levels, and separated
from each other at ground floor level by a
minimum of 30 minutes fire-resisting
construction.
Accommodation stairways and escalators
should not normally form an integral part of
the calculated escape routes, however, where
your fire risk assessment indicates that it is safe
to do so, then you may consider them for that
purpose. In these circumstances you may need
to seek advice from a competent person.

• Final exit doors should be quickly and
easily openable without a key or code in
the event of a fire. Where possible, there
should be only one fastening. See
Appendix B3 for more information on
security fastenings.      (We need to change the front door locks accordingly)

• There should be more than one escape
route from all parts of the premises (rooms
or storeys) except for areas or storeys with
an occupancy of less than 60.

Two storey (ground and first floor – small)
If your premises have one upper storey, served
by a single stairway and no floor exceeds
200m2 in area, the example in Figure 49
will be generally acceptable as long as the
following apply:
• The farthest point on all of your floors to the
storey exit is within the overall suggested
travel distance (see Table 3 on page 70).
• The upper floor should accommodate no
more than 60 people.
• The stairway is a protected route,
completely enclosed in 30-minute fire resisting
construction and all doors onto
the corridor and stairway are self-closing
fire doors.
• Access to the stairway from any room is
through one fire door.
• The automatic fire detection is as suggested
in Table 1 on page 70, e.g. Grade D LD2
or 3 system in a small bed and breakfast.

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Emergency escape lighting
People in your premises must be able to find their way to a place of total safety if there is a fire by using escape routes that have enough lighting.

In simple premises, eg a small bed and breakfast establishment of 2 floors (ie ground and First floor with no floor greater than 200sq mtre in area), where the secape routes are simple and straightforward, borrowed lighting from a dependable source, e.g. from street amps where they illuminate escape routes, may be acceptable. Exceptionally, where borrowed lighting is not available, suitabley placed torches may be acceptable for use by trained staff.

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Signs

A fire risk assessment that determines that no escape signs are required (because for example, trained staff will always be available to help members of the public to escape routes), is unlikely to be acceptable to an enforcing authority other than in the smallest and simplest of premises where the exits are in regular use and familiar to staff and guests.
.....  Where the locations of escape routes and fire fighting equipment are readily apparent e.g. in a hotel foyer, and the fire fighting equipment is visible at all times, then signs are not necessary, in all other situations it is likely that the fire risk assessment will indicate that signs will be necessary.

Escape signs
In simple premises, a few signs indicating the
alternative exit(s) might be all that is needed.
A fire risk assessment (in other than very small
premises) that determines no escape signs are
required, as trained staff will always be
available to help members of the public to
escape routes, is unlikely to be acceptable to
an enforcing authority.

Other safety signs and notices
A number of other mandatory signs such as
‘Fire action’ notices may also be necessary.
Fire doors that have been fitted with selfclosing
devices should be labelled ‘Fire door –
keep shut’ on both sides (Figure 60).

Guest and resident notices
You will need to provide information to guests
and residents. This can be done by providing
notices about what to do in case of fire (fire
action notices). In small premises this may be
an action list; in larger more complex premises
this should be an action notice with plan
indicating the escape routes, see Figure 61.
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Historic buildings


Fire risk assessments conducted for sleeping
accommodation which is within a listed or
historic building will need to ensure that a
balance is struck between ensuring sufficient
fire safety measures are in place for the safety
of people, yet avoid extensive alterations and
helping to maintain the character of the building.
See, Easy........


Do you think that I should mention to anyone that I am going to be serving home made jam?    Perhaps not eh!







1022

To become the spectator of one's own life is to escape the suffering of life. ...... Oscar Wilde

So the sun was out and it wasn't even 9am when I got the urge. After weeks of hobbling around and then further weeks of limping and eventually a few of hamming it up a bit I finally got the urge to get the bike out!

The Big Plan has always been to get to Norfolk, knock the house into a viable B&B business, Run the business and in any free time to get out and about, especially cycling on the roads around the village. Well 2 out of 4 ain't bad and I really am working hard to get the other 2 completed as well.

There I was, the knee still a little fragile but, unexpectedly, reasonably no resistance to the cycling, I actually think it may have done it good. There was a time that I cycled quite a lot from my house down in our Sussex village, but it had a draw back, a very BIG draw back in my book. We were some 800ft above sea level and every time that I cycled outward bound I shot out from the village like a cork out of a champagne bottle as it was all down hill. It was great flying down the road like Chris Hoy......

There goes the church, there's the Old Priest House, Bowling green whooooosh, the old quarry house, wheeeeeeee, the cricket ground, a field, a farm, another field, the horses field, another farm wheeeeeeee, a sharp bend, whoaaaaa, screech and stop.  In a few minutes I had travelled towards the bottom of the valley and I could have continued further but it was usually at the sharp bend that I came to my senses and realised that I was biting off more than I could chew.


Anyone who knows me is very aware that I may, on occasions, make use of the odd hyperbole when describing events in my life but honestly If I didn't stop on the bend I would have shot down to Brighton faster than the old Brighton Belle!   .....  Honest!
But instead I stopped and I didn't even need a breather. Why would I? I hadn't even turned the bikes pedals yet and I had done a mile an a half. But with discretion definitely being the better part of valour, I simply stopped, for behind me was home and between me, that home and a cup of tea was the meanest hill, a hill that it took me another 40 minutes to get back up. It may not be Gold Hill in Shaftsbury but to me it was murder most horrid.

I don't know why I couldn't take it in my stride as I come from a strong cyclist 'stock' with both my Parents and Grand Parents having gone on long holidays on their bikes, cycling over 50 miles in a day. They must have cycled up about 10 hills like this one in a single day, with  luggage too. I often wondered, over my cooked breakfasts and croissants, what made them so much more fitter than me?

So we moved to a reasonably flattish Norfolk and today I got the urge. I slipped out of the back gate and mounted the bike in a small parking area behind the house. I felt that the neighbours did not need to witness the rather ungainly site of me clambering over my bike then trying to kick off with my characteristic first wobble, carelessly drifting across the other side of the road and then sweeping back to the correct side before finally getting some kind of balance thing going on. Does my bum look big on this? Mmmm.
So I was off and, would you believe it, actually having to pedal despite not having travelled a mile first. Within a minute I was out into the country fields and almost immediately a large Buzzard glided over head. The fields on this road have open boundaries with just the odd hedge here or there, this gives great potential to see Hares, but there are enough hedges to give a wealth of birds 'cover' and boy do they use it. As I cycled along on a crisp, sunny winters day loads of Yellow Hammers were darting along the hedge just in front of me as well as a flock of Blue Tits that seemed to follow me along. There seems to be a propensity in birds around this village to fly along side you. The Barn Owls have done this several times as we have driven along and the Blue Tits were doing so now, it is akin to Dolphins following ships.

There is a gradual hill and I was very aware of the possibility of my knee playing up, so this was a short slow and easy ride to get me broken in again. I stopped to watch several Pied Wagtails pecking away at one of the hoards of Sugar Beets piled up in a field. The Sugar Beets are a seriously major crop around here with thousands of tonnes piled up in fields throughout Norfolk, all heading to the Sugar processing plant in Suffolk. The Sugar Beet is full of energy and a fine mist of steam was rising from it as the birds scavenged. Eventually they sensed I was there and flew on.

Quite simply it was a delight cycling in such a traditional landscape. Several fields were just ploughed furrows and others had a fine light green covering as the first seedlings poked their little leaves out of the ground like a newly laid carpet. As I returned I heard the distinctive cry of a Buzzard way over head, and saw two of them fly across the wood, so I stopped and spent 10 minutes just watching and listening to them. They deemed to fly fairly close after a while then almost with no effort they slipped across to the far side of a field where they met two more and all four started to fly in circles over, I imagine, a thermal. They looked for all the world as if they were vultures waiting for an animal to die before landing to eat the carrion, still warm. Having work to do, I moved on, this was what enjoable cycling is all about - fantastic. In the distance I could see I was approaching the village again with the distinctive old tower Windmill standing out as a clear landmark and just behind that the red roof tiles of my own house.

When I got back, my knee was fine,  I was not wheezing and I felt that God himself had breathed into my lungs. I will venture out as much as I can and strive to go a little further each day, I will lose this tummy (or at least a bit of it). Now days life is very fast indeed and I have had enough of flying off down the hill, yes you can get places but the wind is deafening and your eyes are continuously looking just ahead with the odd look behind you to see which whipper snapper is coming up close on your tail. You miss the finer details of life around you, and when you finally get to that be all and end all destination that you have been striving for your whole journey long, well then......... Well it's all up hill and nobody wants to give you a lift they just think you're a slow old has been in their way.

    So take my advise, slow down a little and look around you because one day you will have regretted that you didn't.....  and then my friends,   well............







1,011

Japan

Today my blog simply seems trite and trivial beyond belief.

An entire Town of 20,000 people destroyed in Japan by the Tsunami and TV coverage that I for one have just found too harrowing to watch. Every one of the tens of thousands of houses lost were Homes to people just like us. They have lost their relatives, their friends, their jobs, their clubs, their communities, their libraries, their heir-looms, their children, their parents, the personal belongings that make us what we are, their photo albums, their memories, their archive record offices, their schools, halls and hospitals, everything that they (as we do) have worked for their entire lives to achieve.

They've lost their very identities. I cannot comprehend how someone can get over that, and I have genuinely cried for them.

It is simply heartbreaking and my thoughts are totally with them at this time.

That's all.





.

THE DAY OF THE BIG PRUNE

Understand one thing before we commence, today's blog has nothing to do with my recent illness. No the Big Prune does not refer, or have any direct connection other than the way it is spelt, to that rather queer little brown shrivelled, dry (and yet still with a hint of moistness) wrinkled fruit oft eaten by the older generation to keep them more regular than Big Ben itself. But then even Big Ben relies on the small pile of penny coins on it's pendulum to keep it regular and.... where am I going with this?



Oh yeah, it has nothing to do with those funny little things in juice (or syrup) in a tin, neither the 250ml or the 440ml cans. Far, far, far too long working in the Grocery trade!

Nor,        is it The Big Prune as in The Big Society, although they do seem to both rely on cuts being an integral part of the plan.  No,no.  No, this is the the big Prune as in snippity snip, snip.  Wait a bit, that could be misconstrued too, no not The Snips, I mean pruning...... In the Garden..... you know?......   WITH SHEERS!

God, you're all hard work today!

What happened was Captain Oates as I have taken to naming our Great Exploring "I am just going outside and may be some time" cat, Scribble wanted to go out and play, admittedly her intentions were to 'play' with the birds. She has, however, lost all her prisoner privileges and can only go into the exercise yard when accompanied by an adult or failing that,   me :)    This is to both protect the birds and simultaneously me, from the further embarrassment of having to walk around the entire village like Wee Willy Winkie shouting out the ludicrous word that is her name if she goes walk about again. I really couldn't handle that a third time. Now I have found she is capable of a far more heinous crime in that she can shin up a small shrub, get on to the garden wall and then a small leap and she is on to our Annex roof. From there she would have absolutely no obstructions and having set up base camp on the Office roof she would easily be able to climb up the shingles to the Solar Panel escarpment then she would make short work of the great East West Ridge and before you could say :- "Come back down here you little....." She'd be totally stuck on next doors roof and I'd have to call the Fire-brigade!

Now I'm sure that my Daughter would be more than happy to entertain the Firemen when they arrived but no she is not here and all we have is just her darling of a cat. So when she goes into the garden I have to babysit her to make sure she doesn't eat any birds or climb out of the garden and get lost. By 'she' of course I mean the Cat and NOT Claire whom, in all fairness to her, I have never ever seen even look at a Chaffinch with a mind to eating one.

So whilst I was on forced yard duty and as it was sunny I thought I'd kill two birds with one stone,  oops, perhaps not the best turn of phrase eh? So I started The Big Prune, understand now? Starting with some Roses then the buddleia and then the rest of the garden. After an hour Captain Oats went in doors but I had got all the paraphernalia out and was by this time up to my wheelbarrows axles in clippings, so I struggled onwards. Some six hours later, four hours after the sun went in and 2 hours after the Arctic wind had joined me I decided to follow her in to the house. Only then to be told by her it was now time for her supper and could I hurry along a bit as some of us have got a bit peckish whilst you've been larking around in the garden all day!                   Grrrrrrrrrrr!

But the plants all look a lot better for their hair cut and I took extra special pleasure in severely cutting the roses back as I had a grudge against them. Some fifteen years back I was merely walking through an arbour in our old property's garden, well I say an arbour, it was actually the frame to the children's old swing which I had never taken to the dump and happened to have two roses growing next to it. And... as I innocently walked through it one of the mean old roses took a swipe at me. Well it missed my face and hit me in the side of the head, right in the ear 'ole and I felt this warm liquidy, glupey goo trickle down my neck. Now the last time I felt that sort of warm liquid against my skin was on the way home from junior school when, frankly, I was just never going to make it home in time!  But this was too high up for that and so I assumed it was blood and instinctively slapped a hand on to the ear from whence it seemed to emanate. Well that didn't stop it and as I was on day off I had to drive to the hospital with one hand desperately trying to hold a chunk of my ear to the main body of the rest of the ear whilst it bled at a rather unhelpful rate.

At the hospital they have, of course, seen it all and this serious and major trauma did not seem to phase the young triage nurse who simply said, oh nasty, OK I'll just get the glue. GLUE! Surely he was having a laugh! "You're going to glue that bit of ear back on?" I checked. He confirmed that indeed this was the course of action that he intended to take. I looked around but could see no candid cameras and so had to assume he was barking mad. Just then a Doctor popped in checked with the nurse nodded in agreement and slipped off to appease some other mad people in the next cubicle. And so my ear was glued back on and that was that. BUT I have never forgiven the evil Floribunda and when pruning time comes I take my vengeance on the sons, sons and sons of the father of the little bastard that chopped off half my ear.

And do you know what really riles me? That despite cutting them down to the very core, they just seem to grow back bigger, stronger and very much more meaner (the roses that is, Not my Ears!).


The fight goes on......





953

THE DAY THAT THE VILLAGE STARTS TO MAKE ITS RESURGENCE

For a long time now villages across Britain have been shutting down. They've been a forgotten cause, left to their own devices to survive a world in-which the credit crunch has been crushing the very soul out of the village. 

And it appears to most villagers that nobody in the wider Government gives a toss.

DISCUSS.

Well it is not as dark as all that, certainly the larger villages situated just 20 minutes from a Regional town or City with their corresponding transport networks tend to still have the middle class affluence buffering the financial constraints. Doctor Beeching should have been struck off, if only he was a real doctor for he was more a butcher than a skilled surgeon. We needed to make some rationalisations to a clearly over populated and inefficient railway system so who shall we turn to? A Physicist of course.

Oh, Dr. Beeching what have you done?

There once were lots of trains to catch, but soon there will be none,

I'll have to buy a bike, 'cos I can't afford a car,

Oh, Dr. Beeching what a naughty man you are!

Croft & Spendlove

 So the first nail was in the coffin, villages back to horse and carts as cars were still expensive then.

Then the big supermarkets did their thing, then the Post Offices were put into a situation in-which they became uneconomical in a small business set up, starved of all their profitable services. The Post office in our last village moved three times before its final demise and even in this village the same has happened, my house was one of them once! It is easy to argue that thousands of people are running successful Post Offices but if that is the case why were 1,000 P.O.'s closed last year (or trying to be sold).

Without the core Post Office business to support them it was only a short step to the fall of the village shop too.

Again there was a butchers, a village store and a Post Office when we arrived in our last village some 25 years ago but every last one of them has gone.

You can blame market forces, sure, but what a cop out. A Government's job surely is to foster economic prosperity to all of its citizens, but what single sustainable strategy has any government really put in place that has stopped the decline of the British village?  Whatever you come up with is null and void because villages are still declining, ergo Government has failed and that is because no one has ever come up with such a strategy that can last through the terms of different elections. An indifference that has cost the rural areas dearly. Politicians are (and have always been) interested in one thing only, the next election....

 

"So they [the Government] go on in strange paradox, decided only to be undecided, resolved to be irresolute, adamant for drift, solid for fluidity, all-powerful to be impotent."

Winston Churchill, Hansard, November 12, 1936

In short everyone runs around doing nothing. Another 1,000 Pubs closed? Market forces! what can you do, we're not here to fund failing businesses. No to right, you're there to put the fight back into fiscal growth by imaginative and progressive use of taxes and, dare I say it, creating an environment where people can afford to live in out lying villages because the price of fuel is not prohibitive.

We have two bus routes come to our village, sounds great doesn't it, but they come on two separate days to two different towns and if you miss the return trip that day you will need to find accomodation as it will be another week before it comes back again!   What ever happened to the Integrated National Transport Policy? I reckon Jim Hacker put the curse on that one.

BUT, it is not all gloom and doom. As I have said despite the total apathy with no government showing any resolve to really make a difference the villagers are fighting back

We have a self service shop, which I stroll along the road, past our Garage (where he does an excellent job at very reasonable prices), past the village hall. The village hall only survives because every village needs a building for the Parish Council to hold their meetings otherwise the government would have sold that off too! That said our village hall is really just a closed down school. Did you know a village school was closed one a month from 1997 to 2008 and now guess what's happening, the population is increasing again. So on I stroll past the hall where there are regular events including a monthly film showing and a weekly bar because all three pubs in the village closed down. They reckon 900 pubs a year are closing. On around the corner past the bowls club and past the war memorial. Churchill famously said when his finance minister suggested cutting the arts funds 'Then what are we fighting for?' ", well I guess if you ask those soldiers named on that cross probably they would firstly say our way of life, the small villages that made Britain the unique country that it is, This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England (You know who). Finally I get to our village shop, a 4' x 3' garden shed in front of a farm where I can buy, fresh local eggs, lots of different vegetables, milk, local apple juice, Eggs from specific breeds of hens, Guinea Fowl (oven Prepared), Chickens, the same, fresh or frozen, bacon sausages, joints of Beef or Pork etc, etc..

The point is all this goes on despite the havoc brought on village life by successive attacks on the country way of life. Shakespeare goes on to say of this England,

 

That England, that was wont to conquer others,
Hath made a shameful conquest of itself.
Ah, would the scandal vanish with my life,
How happy then were my ensuing death!

 King Richard II  Act II Scene 1

400 years later and the scandal is that we surely have made a shameful conquest of our own countryside, 

of England itself.

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THE DAY I WAS NOT VERY WELL

Hi, I'm back.

Sorry for the extended gap but I had some relatives staying with me over the weekend and then just as I was about to throw myself into more work I became extremely unwell and totally incapacitated. I'm still not right but am able to update the blog now and feel a definite improvement. I am not sure what caused the illness but whilst it had food poisoning similarities I actually think I inhaled something nasty when I was repairing a sewer manhole cover in my back-garden.

OK so what have I been doing to get the business running? Well it is all a bit stagnant at the moment (not unlike the afore said sewer!). I am still waiting for the Building Regs. folk to get back to me regarding my plans and whilst I understand these bodies can be notoriously sluggish, when I actually spoke to a guy on the phone it gave me the impression that they are perhaps quicker than most. So fingers crossed.

I am still tendering for quotes regarding the plumbing work which looks like it will be very expensive. The problem is that firstly bathroom furniture is expensive and whilst there are cheap B&Q deals out there you need to remember that the items have got to be durable as some guests of a B&B really don't care too much how they treat them.
       Secondly, to ensure that there is enough water and water pressure available whenever a guest wants a shower or a bath, especially at the peak time first thing in the morning, we will need separate tanks feeding the separate areas. This is further complicated by the need to make a new loft hatch so we can get into the loft and so that the tanks can get in there too. More money. I hope to have all the quotes in by Friday week and then we can make a decision. It is frustrating because probably the best I can hope for is that the guest bath room is completed by mid-April, but as soon as it is done then there is nothing to prevent us from opening up one room to guests.

I really have been physically unable to do very much over the last few days and today was spent catching up with the plumbers and the rest of the day in the office doing an ink drawing of the front of the house so we can use it as a header on our letters and also on the business cards. I used to draw quite a lot but as the Supermarket world became more and more tiring and all consuming (pardon the pun) I found that I just could not make the time to do any artwork at all. I think the last time that I did an actual painting was some 10 years ago. I am not particularly gifted at it, but I really enjoy doing a picture and if it is half decent then I'm happy and probably a lot more chilled too. The other thing I get from it is the ability to appreciate really good art, because those that are gifted are really blessed and quite simply I marvel at how they manage to get everything perfect, how do they do that?

So here is my picture, this is our entire property as seen from the street with the main house to the left and the main guest bedroom is in the section of building in the centre of the picture. The building to the right is the one we hope to make into a holiday cottage, but that is reliant on planning permission.

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