Many of you will already know or will have worked out that I am a teacher and I so I have always treated September as my New Year rather than the traditional January 1st. As the new term begins I thought I would share a few of my resolutions with you.
1. I will not get wound up by slow drivers on the way into work. 42 miles per hour is a perfectly reasonable speed on a straight open road in perfect weather conditions. Tractors have every right to be on the road during the morning rush hour without pulling over to let people pass and the mobile speed camera van going at 15 miles an hour below the speed limit ALL the way from North Walsham to Norwich is absolutely fine by me.
2. I am not going to swear, at least not much, unless it really is necessary. I think I'll have a 'swear box' and put a pound into my Sancerre fund every time I use a profanity.
3. I am going to keep my Mark Book beautiful. This has been one of my resolutions for the last 17 years and I still haven't achieved it. There will be no crossings out, no gaps, no use of multi-coloured pens. If a new pupil joins my class late in the term they will have to change their surname to something beginning with 'Y' or 'Z' so I can put them on the end without ruining the alphabetical list. For example 'Jack Cooke' would be offered the choice of 'Jack Yooke' or 'Jack Zooke'.
4. I will not get half way through September and start feeding my family ready meals, pizza or Weetabix for tea.
5. I will not even once threaten to resign and go and work in Tesco. However, Waitrose might be a different matter altogether.
6. I will not get depressed about the fact that I probably have another 24 years teaching ahead of me and that my pension is currently something like £26.78 lump sum and £1.54 a month.
7. I won't hit November and start going to bed at 8.30 just so I can survive the next day. Sad lamp and vitamin D instead.
To see how I am getting on visit http://normalfornnorfolk.blogspot.co.uk/2013/09/new-years-resolutions-24-hours-in.html
My blog is 4 weeks old today! So, to celebrate I am re-publishing my favourite post so far.
Many people do actually come to Norfolk on purpose, to live or for a holiday, but there are special training courses to go on before you take this step. However, there are stories of folk ending up here by accident, without following any previous acclimatisation programme or learning the language. All it takes is one wrong turn on the M11... (M - that's a motorway for any real Norfolk readers).
Here are a few ways for the un-trained to tell if they have ended up in Norfolk.
1. The surrounding terrain will become flatter than a Latvian gymnast's chest. (sorry Svetlana)
2. You will be able to see nothing but rows of cabbages or possibly sugar-beet for miles. We like growing things round here. It's what we do best. In fact, it's the only thing we do.
3. The people around you will begin to look a bit strange. Don't worry. This is not you starting to lose your mind and hallucinate (yet), this is due to centuries of in-breeding. Our 'Family Trees' don't fork much here. 'Family Trunks' would be more accurate.
4. You may witness some odd behaviour too. Again, this is due to in-breeding and is a well documented affliction known by the acronym NFN - Normal for Norfolk.
5. People will stare at you and point, especially if you are in a motorised vehicle which has not been designed for farming purposes. We are not really used to foreigners round these parts.
6. You will hear what sounds like a foreign language being spoken. This might be 'Naarfak' but it could equally be Polish.
7. You will drive through lots of towns with 'markets', especially if it is a Thursday (or thuuursdee). They are not worth getting out of the car for selling only cheap clothing, pet supplies and flimsy wrapping paper.
8. People will be dressed predominantly in green and yellow. Do not be alarmed. These are simple, harmless individuals known as 'Norwich City Supporters'. They should be treated with kindness.
N.B. If people are wearing blue and white then you are probably still in Suffolk. It is safe to leave your vehicle and seek help.
Above all, if you think you may have strayed into Norfolk DO NOT PANIC. A good rule of thumb is not to follow signs to places you can't pronounce like Guist, Happisburgh or Costessey. Do not be fooled if you see directions to 'Little London'. It has three houses and a post box. If you are in the north of the county you could see signs for 'New York' and 'Boston'. Turn your car around. You are in danger of going into Lincolnshire and may never be heard of again.
Today I had the rare pleasure of going to watch the Norwich City football team doing a training session.
I am a real novice when it comes to football and have only been lured in by virtue of being married to a Norwich supporter and having given birth to one too. I'm surprised he didn't make his entrance into the world wearing the distinctive green and yellow of the Canaries' strip but, as he was born in Leeds that may not have been the most sensible move. I don't know how the green and yellow came about, but it is not the most attractive of colour combinations and there was definitely no female input in that particular decision making process.
So, Bryn and I settled down in our seats at Carrow Road, trying to keep out of the direct sun on the hottest day of the year so far. We were far too early but the place was filling up quite quickly, a sea of mainly young boys proudly sporting their outrageously priced Norwich strips, the sacrifice you have to make for supporting a club in the Premier League I suppose. (I just thought I'd drop that in in case there are any Ipswich Town fans reading. I'll be getting hate mail soon; I've already managed to upset most of Yarmouth.)
Nothing much was happening, just a few goalies doing some saving practice - that's the technical term you know- one of whom is quite new and called Carlo Nash apparently. So, all was fairly peaceful, a touching scene of mother and son bonding in a special Norfolk way, when 'The Family Behind' arrived. Clearly this was not their actual name, but as they installed themselves in the seats to the rear of us us it seems like a good label for the time being. So mum, dad and 3 boys under 7 squeezed their way in with much banging of seats (those foldy-up ones), discussion about who was sitting where and knees banging into the back of my head as they got comfortable. Fine, you expect a bit of movement as people arrive, and this is Norwich football stadium on a hot Thursday morning in the school holidays, not Glyndebourne, so stop being a middle-class, middle-aged grump.
But then they opened the picnic. More kicks in the neck as the fruit shoots were handed around and cries from the dad of "Luca! Do you want a sweet? Hey, Luca. I said do you want a sweet? What colour? Does Mum want one? Hey, Lynn, do you want one of these? How about some crisps then..." I'm sure he was a very nice man but he had what can only be described as verbal diarrhoea. Next we got a run down in broad Norfolk of every match they had been to, who had scored, what they had eaten at half time. Then, the smallest child started banging the empty seat next to me and singing "scaredy cat, scaredy cat, sitting on the doormat" ad nauseam. He had clearly inherited his father's talent for making scintillating conversation and penchant for repetition.
In the end we moved, mainly to get out of the sun, which by now had made its way round to us, but also to stop me appearing on the front page of the EDP and quite possibly the national dailies too, for committing some unspeakable act of violence against a whole family of Norwich City supporters.
Anyway, I just hope that the newbie in the squad, Mr Nash, isn't too attached to his birth name because if 'The Family Behind' dad is anything to go by he will soon be answering not to 'Carlo' but to 'Carloo'.
Many people do actually come to Norfolk on purpose, to live or for a holiday, but there are special training courses to go on before you take this step. However, there are stories of folk ending up here by accident, without following any previous acclimatisation programme or learning the language. All it takes is one wrong turn on the M11... (M - that's a motorway for any real Norfolk readers).
Here are a few ways for the un-trained to tell if they have ended up in Norfolk.
1. The surrounding terrain will become flatter than a Latvian gymnast's chest. (sorry Svetlana)
2. You will be able to see nothing but rows of cabbages or possibly sugar-beet for miles. We like growing things round here. It's what we do best. In fact, it's the only thing we do.
3. The people around you will begin to look a bit strange. Don't worry. This is not you starting to lose your mind and hallucinate (yet), this is due to centuries of in-breeding. Our 'Family Trees' don't fork much here. 'Family Trunks' would be more accurate.
4. You may witness some odd behaviour too. Again, this is due to in-breeding and is a well documented affliction known by the acronym NFN - Normal for Norfolk.
5. People will stare at you and point, especially if you are in a motorised vehicle which has not been designed for farming purposes. We are not really used to foreigners round these parts.
6. You will hear what sounds like a foreign language being spoken. This might be 'Naarfak' but it could equally be Polish.
7. You will drive through lots of towns with 'markets', especially if it is a Thursday (or thuuursdee). They are not worth getting out of the car for selling only cheap clothing, pet supplies and flimsy wrapping paper.
8. People will be dressed predominantly in green and yellow. Do not be alarmed. These are simple, harmless individuals known as 'Norwich City Supporters'. They should be treated with kindness.
N.B. If people are wearing blue and white then you are probably still in Suffolk. It is safe to leave your vehicle and seek help.
Above all, if you think you may have strayed into Norfolk DO NOT PANIC. A good rule of thumb is not to follow signs to places you can't pronounce like Guist, Happisburgh or Costessey. Do not be fooled if you see directions to 'Little London'. It has three houses and a post box. If you are in the north of the county you could see signs for 'New York' and 'Boston'. Turn your car around. You are in danger of going into Lincolnshire and may never be heard of again.
Today we went into Norwich to look at the Gorillas. It was fun but very warm and tiring and at present I am struggling to glean anything even remotely hilarious from the experience to write about, the heat having drained every last vestige of wit from me. Bryn was most amused that one of the exhibits was called Geoffrey (his dad's name) and I was disappointed that Prince of Wales Road (the rough area with lots of night clubs) didn't have a drunk gorilla being bundled into a police van, or one in stilettos slurring 'I love you, you're my best friend'.
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| Geoffrey the Gorilla |
On the way home the 'Norfolk Driving Experience' (Now there's an idea for one of those gift experiences you can buy your loved ones. Balloon ride? Swim with dolphins? No. Sit behind a combine for 3 hours) was taken to new highs (lows?) as the traffic on a major road came to a standstill behind a lady on a mobility scooter. Someone please tell me that isn't legal.
So, Alan Partridge has arrived in Naarch (a roite foine ci-ee) for the premier of his film. I for one am jolly pleased that he eventually decided to show it here first, as it gives me something else to write about. I don't actually have a huge amount to say about Alan Partridge, except that he is very funny, but I saw that he and Norwich were on the news and trending on Twitter and thought, "There's a bandwagon; I'll jump on it". It's a dog eat dog world this blogging lark. You've got to be ruthless.
What I can talk about at some length and with not inconsiderable authority however, is the cinema where the film is to be screened. I went there a couple of years ago with Bryn to watch Horrid Henry. All I can say is I hope they've given it a bit of a clean and a lick of paint recently. Now, I am not exactly house-proud or overly concerned about my surroundings being pristine, but I don't much like it when my feet stick to the floor or my seat gives off a cloud of dust when I sit on it. There were pieces of antique popcorn on the floor of the foyer and the cinema, and the toilets were lavishly graffitied with all manner of interesting information about the sexual predilections of Sprowston High's year 10 girls. At least the pic 'n' mix was cheap.
Anyway, I notice that they have very inconsiderately named the new Prince of Cambridge whilst I've been writing this, so I suppose Alan Partridge is now whatever the modern-day equivalent is of 'tomorrow's chip wrappers'.
If you ever find yourself in this part of the world (i.e. If your Sat Nav has broken down) then you may find you need some help with understanding basic phrases. Here are a few you may hear when out and about.
- Yew nart frum roun hair? - You haven't yet lived in Norfolk for 40 years.
- Thassa roite noice traactur yew gort thair - I like your farm machinery.
- Get orf moy laand - I think you are trespassing old chap.
- Ah yew gunna warch Naarch? - Will you be attending the next Norwich City Match?
- Oim garn up tarn. Yew cummun? - I'm going into the city. Would you like to accompany me?
- Dew watta bare? - Would you like some alcoholic refreshment?
- Moy hatta loive! - Goodness me! (my heart alive)
- That tayk bout an aar. - You'll be travelling for approximately 60 minutes.
- Oi doont loike nunna that forrun muck - I only eat English food.
- Oi hint gotta naarfak axunt- I don't talk like a yokel.
