Hello I am in a barrow.

This Cotswolds pub is too busy, so I’m outside, spotting pre-Worboys signage.

Is that poster about Sardinia or Portugal? Oh, it’s a lamination breach not yet total.

I was wondering if I’m in the north or the midlands and then someone called me duck.

Early to the dance-out after stopping at a branch library.

“Crunch cabinet”. Where my grandparents brought the crisps and crackers out from.

Trailers at an Odeon (The Sheep Detectives): Paw Patrol: The Dino Movie Charlie The Wonderdog Shaun The Sheep: The Beast Of Mossy Bottom Minions & Monsters Power Ballad Masters Of The Universe The Mandalorian And Grogu Trailers at a Picturehouse (The Christophers): Pressure Tuner Orphan Brunello

Picking a film on iPlayer, I considered Farewell, My Lovely (1944) but chose Get Carter (1971)… to find Michael Caine reading a paperback of Farewell, My Lovely on his opening credits rail journey.

Wednesday night. A pub by a busy roundabout in Norwich. Lithuanian basketball fans roaring inside. Morris dancers in wigs dodging puddles outside.

Lemsip afternoon. I’m watching A Canterbury Tale (1944).

I know it’s pedantic but “Queen Elizabeth 11” has been making me laugh all week. A space-age future queen - like in the maths episode of Look Around You.

The final morris practice of the year! Next week the pub trips begin.

Great bustard! The flag house in Norwich is representing Wiltshire Day.

Dragon biscuits on my St George’s Day buffet plate, at St George’s Church, Colegate, Norwich.

Remember last year when it wasn’t Saint George’s Day, because of a clash in the ecclesiastical calendar due to a late Easter, so it fell on the 28th.

Surprise ephemera in the circus section of a bookshop… can I date this voucher? There are typos to dodge; the Spalding number is before PhONEday in 1995; years for those dates are 1994, 1988, 1983… and ringside seats cost £8. (A bonus Glint border for Monotype fans)

Attention to detail at the antique shop.

Searching the Norfolk Museums Collections site… Sonic The Hedgehog goes back further than I thought. “Bracket or spandrel […] dragon and ox of St. Luke, […] dragon has large grotesque face and small wings, and leans off bracket looking downwards, several holes bored through”

Back from a talk in a church about the dragons of Norwich. I should have asked if Snap can come and deal with the enormous rat that I saw in my garden today.

A collection coming together.

Morris On has the Sleeve Of The Week spot in the window of Sister Ray on Berwick Street!

I’m not sure why I disapprove of the ice-cream shops being filled with branded flavours. A boy came in asking for Ferrero Rocher. The testy proprietress would only reply with “Nutella”. “Ferrero Rocher?” “Nutella. What I’ve got is what you can see, petal.”

Fata Morgana at Cromer.

I’ve been suggesting this walk for months: Norfolk’s pingo ponds, near the village of Thompson. We made it last and had a springtime picnic.

Last Saturday I was a morris spectator. It’s satisfying to get a set of drawings done within a week: first a quick summary and then detailed figures.

Gay wedding day! 🏳️‍🌈🎉

“That is proper multitasking, brother!”says one of the Sunday strollers by the lake.

Power cut today, so I’ve had to cancel the boiler man. I’m running out of options.

Berney Arms today! Jostling in the championship of least used stations. Of course, Geoff Marshall came up while talking with a man on the train waiting to photograph the sign but staying on. He couldn’t believe that I would make it across the squelchy field to the river.

My new thing (well, I’ve done it twice) is reading while walking the path round Whitlingham Broad. It feels fitting for Mere by Danielle Giles because I’m in constant danger of falling into cold, East Anglian water.

I’m in the front row for a night of Peggy Lee songs (Catherine Lima at the Norwich Jazz Club) and when they did Fever it was very hard not to think about Rita Moreno and Animal on The Muppet Show.

In morris world, nobody can come across an old photo without trying to identify the sides, usually resulting in a long Facebook discussion. This was a Ring meeting hosted by East Suffolk Morris Men on 12th July 1975 in Ipswich.

Update from morris practice: another new member is being taught how to do “skeggies”, so once again I’ve dug out the famous poster to explain what you’re supposed to look like when you do them.

“Name The Seed” on the Harry Hill Show is going pretty well for me.

The “Danish rye” from Bread Source on Norwich market.

I want to watch The Secret Agent while it’s in cinemas but I need to get round to last year’s I’m Still Here first, for the full dive into 1970s Brazil.

Arraying my haul of old tools (on a train) and remembering the montage of Amélie Poulain’s parents. www.youtube.com/watch?v=FJpV...

Stripping the wallpaper in the spare room did indeed take longer than the 18 disc audiobook of Dune.

At midnight I wish I lived within the sound of a church bell.

Transferable skills from morris dancing confirmed when the vicar asked me to ring the bells for communion.

It’s satisfying to go to an event because I had heard about it on Bluesky.

“If you was on Crackerjack, you’da lost” “I would. No cabbages for me.” One of the staff at the tip talking to a man with an armful of assorted small electricals.

Ah yes, the smoking chimneys of Portcullis House (2001).

I’ve had gallery postcards fading in a clipframe for over twenty years. I knew that the original blue of the backing paper would be revealed but in addition you can see the imprint of the images themselves.

Kendal mint cake in the snow.

An evening at The Golden Rule.

www dot waiting for this internet thing to blow over dot co dot uk

A gorgeous garage, somewhere in Norwich.

New Year’s Morning and I am already adventurous.

Fifth time seeing the trailer for Peter Hujar’s Day!