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The eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month

November 11, 2016

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A squadron photograph, Italy, 1944.

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Far out in West Norfolk

Norfolk can be a strange place and perhaps West Norfolk even more so. Finding a brown wheelie bin adorned with the address 'Blue Jay Way' makes you wonder why? George Harrison wrote the song 'Blue Jay Way' for The Beatles Magical Mystery Tour and thinking about it the song was written while he was waiting for friends on a fog shrouded evening in San Fransisco.
Now sometimes it does get very foggy in West Norfolk but I don't think that's the answer to the curious Brown Bin signage.
Right, that's the tenuous links out of the way, maybe they're just Beatles fans and it's as simple as that.
Thinking about it a little more the brown bins are for garden weeds, so maybe it is weed that's the link.
Far out man.

That's one less

Out for a walk with the two Jack Russell Terriers down by the river when the ratting queen, Minnow, dives into the waterside reeds and emerges with treasure in her mouth. A yard further out beyond the reeds and she would have been covered in the stinking green snot that is covering the surface but at least she didn't drag the rest of the corpse out.
The treasure appears to be the now dried out and decomposed head of a cormorant or maybe a great crested grebe; the former is the angel of death and we have hundreds of them pillaging the fish stocks and the other we have too few of and are beautiful birds. I prefer to think of it as a cormorant skull and beak and Minnow sees it as something to crunch up, a bit of the 'finders keepers' or 'mine not yours' attitude.
Whether she likes it or not it's on the window sill out of terrier reach.
At least I think it is.

The pear audit

Thankfully there aren't as many varieties of pear in the orchard as there are apples, in fact there are two varieties in the orchard plus another in the old farmhouse garden.
The Comice and Beurre Hardy trees in the orchard are about eighty years old and the single tree of Souvenir Du Congress was planted by the farmer's grandfather in 1912 making it the grand total of one hundred and five years old. In reality it's older because it had to grow for several years to the sapling stage before being planted.

Comice, a really juicy pear maturing towards the end of September,
it will dribble juice all down your chin. Guaranteed.

Beurre Hardy, maturing at about the same time as the Comice,
it's all down to your personal preference. Of course we like them all.

Souvenir Du Congress. The farmer reckons this pear is best stewed and served warm
with ice cream and flaked plain chocolate. Who are we to argue.

Meanwhile as you fight your way through the overgrown orchard mo…

Says it all really

Another fine example of that high typographic art form known as 'Brown Bin Graffiti' brought to you, yet again, from West Norfolk.
Strangely it doesn't let the offenders, and we assume they're persistent offenders, know what the penalty is if they get caught red or brown-handed in the act of depositing 'dog poo' in the bin. We've seen gates with notices on warning people that the householder has a shotgun and will use it but that would be a somewhat noisy solution. We think it would be a crossbow or bow, something silent but deadly.
Then it would be into the bin and away to the council digester or composter.
Please and thank you, full marks for the good manners.

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The eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month

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