Despite the drop in the R rate we're not really going anywhere for a while are we? So I got me some reading in.
Bureboyblog
Mostly fishing, mainly North Norfolk
Friday, 22 January 2021
What's Up
Sunday, 17 January 2021
Wednesday, 13 January 2021
Up close
The fecked wrist has meant carting a DSLR around on my limited ramblings is les than convenient so the basic camera phone is getting more of an outing, and it's probably better as a macro .
This rose is in flower all year it seems out on the boundary of the vast sprawling Bureboy Estate. Not heavily fragranced and needs reining in a bit but lovely none the less. Which reminds me that I have a double row of wallflowers to plant out still, they are always heavily scented.
Tuesday, 12 January 2021
Seven mile Boris
Well, Bozza's 14 mile round trip for a bike round Stratford Park on Sunday, passing many nearer open spaces, probably involving many cars and goons has set an acceptable local limit for many, and reinforced by Hat Mancock and then the Briefing tonight when it was said it was not practical to set an absolute definition of what local is.
I was well within that for my Sunday stomp, probably ambling 6 or 7 miles in total along the Weavers Way laid on the old M&GN line towards Aylsham. Pleasant walking now its be resurfaced. I'm fascinated by part human, part animal old ways that traverse land and bisect other paths and roads. If my book case hadn't fallen down whilst I was being back slabbed in Minor Injuries I'd dig out MacFarlane's tome on the subject.
Monday, 11 January 2021
Local
Despite all the confusion about what is and isn't local, in law or in spirit my horizons are limited about as far I can drag myself away from Bureboy Villas on foot as the Commander in Chief is hunkered down for the duration. For now anyway. So output might get bit samey as there is nothing that scenic or spectacular in this light industrial market town with zero architectural splendour or boujie artisanal outlets or quirky streets with crooked cottages.
A sunset is always worth a punt and I'm sure we'll get to see a few variations on this scene as it opens out just two minutes walk up the road. I'm not brave enough to suggest to the Commander in Chief that I leave her with Little Uns to seek out panoramic sunrises before breakfast, especially with the hell of home schooling visited on her and the Prodigal for the foreseeable future.
For those with a log pile fetish this boundary marker might get the pulse racing. I'm guessing at least part of it fell from a great height on the original fence, and the occupiers thought they'd open up their vista to take in the view across the fields and the sunset which has in part bathed the pile in an ethereal light.
Tuesday, 5 January 2021
Goodbye to all that
Seems those lovely dace from the end of last year will be the last fish I catch for a while. Or anyone else will for that matter as we are all plunged into Tier 5. The scruffy old bugger managed to sneak in a snide schools are safe in his 5PM mumble fest today. As Witty threw BoJo's underlings under the political decision for Ministers bus.
Anyhoo, I never did open that Japanese whisky tasting set so got a few pleasant evenings to look forward to. Just as well as I have 28 long days with an uncomfortable cast to go before the fracture clinic and what I hope will be good news.
Tuesday, 29 December 2020
Crocked
Out en famille on Sunday to Cart Gap. Cart Gap? Its a gap in the sea wall for carts. We don't stand on ceremony here in North Norfolk. Its a long stretch of concrete and rock armour Norwegian granite blocks with extensive marram dunes behind, and further on from past Sea Palling just the marram dunes which are all that stand between the cruel North Sea and untold hectares of Broadland.
Anyhoo, tide in so clambered on the rock armour to make the short hop over to the concrete wall and as I landed right knee went one way and the rest of me the other, stopped only by my left wrist and rather a lot of pain. I managed to get up, and I hadn't broken my glasses or camera so that was a bonus. I could even walk, after a fashion. My left arm was suitably hidden from the Little Un's eyes. The scene of my debacle. Well, just after anyway. And no, it wasn't me behind the lens. It was the eldest Little Un.