Our daily walks continue to be the highlight of every day except big-shop day.














Today's walk was a bit longer, and took us to Southrepps Common.

I've been a bit remiss in just referring to "Southrepps". The village is actually divided into Upper Southrepps and Lower Southrepps, and what we've encountered up to now has been the "upper" bit.




On the way from Upper to Lower, there's a Memorial Avenue commemorating locals lost in the two world wars. (It was set up by the family from Southrepps Hall, but is presumably less controversial than the "Southern Rhodesia Memorial Avenue" we found the other week.)


One of the trees honours Sgt Edward J. Mire, the only airman to be killed when a US B-24 Liberator made a forced landing in a field near Southrepps in October 1944.


Southrepps Common has been a common for a really long time: back at least as far as 1545, according to An Essay Towards a Topographical History of the County of Norfolk: Volume 8 (as cited here): "It was decreed in the duchy of Lancaster, in the 36th year of Henry VIII that the King's tenants of his manors of Gymingham, Antingham, Thorp, Bradfield, Trunch, and South Repps adjoining to the common, should have their accustomed right in the commons between the said towns."

The massive Antingham and Walsham Common apparently once extended all the way from Thorpe Market to North Walsham, and these are the last remnants.

It's now a lovely area of wetland and grassland, ringed with more of Norfolk's delectable flint:






Not far away are Warren Woods. I'm assuming these are named after William de Warrenne, who was granted a ton of land round here by William the Conqueror back in the fateful year of 1066. What I can say for sure is that their quiet shelter is perfect for the consumption of second-breakfast ham sandwiches (with the customary lashings of butter).

Later, you feel a bit guilty about the ham sandwiches:


The walk back was great, too, and for considerable stretches new, which is always nice in these novelty-starved times. We loved this little junction:



Here's another local connection with the southern part of Africa:


And this is Templewood, a 1938 "shooting box"...


Anyway -- or ansherbee, as we say in Manx -- on to other things. If you've been following my low-carb cake-in-a-mug experiments, then I need to inform you of a success and a failure. Adding a couple of broken-up squares of dark chocolate (as well as orange juice) improves the chocolatyness, but increases the volume surprisingly. So you need a BIGGER MUG...


Despite the undeniably ghastly appearance, this was voted the best version yet by my chief taste-tester, Nigel. I think the only thing that could possibly improve it still further would be alcohol...

I also demonstrated that the batter that makes microwaved mug-bread can be cooked in a frying pan. Add herbs to the dough, and pesto, grated cheese, and sliced tomatoes to the finished product, and it's really not bad. As with all these low-carb things, it's not that solid, so it doesn't look that great when served up. But hey... The taste's the thing.

The only other two bits of news are very much pandemic-related. Nigel was forced to set about his beard with the kitchen scissors. How we tackle the rest of the hair we're not sure...


And we ordered, at great expense, a box of face-masks. They were delivered yesterday. So if there's some sudden edict about wearing them, or if we feel the supermarket is just getting too hairy (I do think people have become a bit lax about distancing over recent weeks), or if we need them for the plane that we still hope to board one day, then we have a supply.

Onwards and upwards...