Little boi Alfred blundered into a mardle
He got his shirt and his trousers claggy
As the muck was dripping on the cobbles
His father found the little boi blarin’ an’orl
If yew was smaart yew better learn sum
He said and don’t yew puttin’ on yar parts
Afore yew was going back into the house
I would now be gorn acrorst alonga me
Pampin’ to that pump there in our gaard’n
That is if you too wuz so afreard of mum
Given “10 out of 10 and the thumbs up” by a fan from Norfolk
This is how I remember it, Brundall railway station. In 1989 I got off the train here, with a knot tied in my stomach. A month before I left the army, not knowing what to do with my life and my uncle, The Brains they called him in the family, advised me “to go far away for a while to grow up and find out who I am”.
It meant a turn in my life that shaped me into what I am still now, I know that sounds a bit cryptic but my real friends know what I mean.
Little Bishy Barnabee
Went up a lovely Hazelnut Tree
To go and visit certain sunny spots
Where he was sure to find his missing dots
As he went up the first branch he found only one
And was wondering where all the other dots had gone
So he reached the top without finding anything but then
He went down the branches quick and suddenly at least had ten
The Old Hall in Little Plumstead burnt down on 14 August 2016 and was consequently demolished, they believed it was arson. This story is to remember Old Hall as it was in “the good old days” when I lived there with my friends. I will never forget the good times we had.
The Grey Lady
Old Hall of Little Plumstead has no ghost and it isn’t haunted. At least not on the inside. Well, there is The Grey Lady of course but she is roaming the grounds outside Old Hall: “Near the stables and the duck pond she can be found, crying.” as the story goes.
The history of The Grey Lady was once told to me by a dear friend, Liz, who got it from her mother Susan who, probably, has heard it from her mother as well as it must have originated from sometime during the first half of the 20th century. Well, aren’t most ghost stories?
I would really have loved to go back to those moments at the kitchen table again if I could. Have a Newky Brown Ale and a chat with a good friend. Tube lights and 80’s music. And then head over to the Social Club, watching Gordon and Nancy argue and listen to a band.
And I would really have liked to sit there once more, order garlic bread and a pint of Smiths, have a pack of crisps, ready salted or with vinegar, tears from the smoke, talking all night long with a friend in my room in Old Hall, and then go back to work.
My two oldest children are having their exams this and next week. The stress is almost visible in the room as they review their next exam over and over again. I remember taking my exams, I remember the tension and stress, the irritation and excitement.
In a week it will all be over for them and then they will have to wait for the outcome, that one important phone call. And I know how they feel, I took my exams three times. Three most important phone calls. Three times? Yes, three times, I will explain it to you.
Last weekend I was in England again after several years. I spent a few days in Cambridge with one of the bests friends I have. The weather was excellent throughout our stay and we had lovely meals in various restaurants. Cambridge, although expensive, is one of the most beautiful cities in England.
Almost the entire city center consists of buildings built over one hundred years and some of them are several hundred years old.
The first evening after we landed at Stansted we decided to have Chili Con Carne in a Tapas restaurant. I noticed a bottle of hot sauce and I thought, how bad can it be and I sprinkled it on my food. Ok, here is a warning: when the bottle says ‘hot sauce‘ it is really hot sauce and you do not put 20 drops of it on your food.
I said goodbye to my old home today and cried
To my worn down house, there it laid in ruins
In the evening sun when the light let go of it
And the last rays warmed it’s walls once more
Before the coldness took over in the starry night
The darkness surrounded it’s walls and just then
Every room was cold in my beloved ancient house
Subdued to time and weather it sighed and died
I said goodbye to my Old Hall today and cried
There I wept, mourning for a home once so alive
When friends were its heart and bloodstream
Of this old building once majestic and so nice
A perfect world within a broken world outside
That house in tatters, bricks have fallen down
It bowed its head like I did mine and died today
And my heart broke down and then it too died
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