AfferGorritt

Friday night. Think that quiz program with Michael Miles, "Take Your Pick" was on the box. Remember leaning on a lamppost (yes!) at the corner of Pym Street and Hogarth Street with my mate, and shouting the news down Hogarth Street to a couple of girls who's just come out. They came up to talk to us, I was instantly smitten by one of them, and we've been married for 45 years this year! Remember the newpaper headlines, John Junior saluting his daddy's coffin, the riderless horse with reversed boots in the stirrups, the shock and sense of sadness. Little did we know, little do we still.

There's a plaice for everything.

Eyup Bilbraborn, Think I first heard it on that "Nation's Favourite Poems" thing they did on the telly. They brought out a book later and it's in there. Good innit!

I'm not a Christian, but would passionately defend the practice of Christianity in this country and I love to celebrate the spirit of Christmas. This is a poem I try to get my Christian friends to read. I think it has a real sense of awe at the meaning underneath the celebrations. It's "Christmas", by John Betjeman... The bells of waiting Advent ring, The Tortoise stove is lit again And lamp-oil light across the night Has caught the streaks of winter rain In many a stained-glass window sheen From Crimson Lake to Hookers Green. The holly in the windy hedge And round the Manor House the yew W

Ey ya forgorrit? Yeh, a'fergorrit. Or, for some real Nottingham slang "affergorragorrum", or as Lord Snooty would say, "I'd forgotten I had them with me!" Must get a new topper!

I often think about my Dad and Grandad, both regular soldiers - Dad signed up just before WW2 and Grandad in about 1908 as far as I can find out. Dad went over to France 6 days after D-Day with the Royal Artillery and fought through Germany. He was present at the liberation of Bergen-Belsen. Family members have told me that he said the camp could be smelled 2 miles away. Survived the war, but was killed by leukaemia at the age of 32. Grandad was serving in India with the Sherwoods when WW1 was declared. Came back to England, 14 days leave, and out to France landing at Le Havre on 5th Novembe

I quite agree Jackson, I love "nights closing in" and those first 3 lines of "Local Boy in the Photograph" ... There's no mistake, I smell that smell It's that time of year again I can taste the air I used to walk "home" to my grandma's in the cold and dark to a fire that had been banked up with "slack" (the little bits of coal and dust underneath all the lumps) which was just burning through, Used to sit with a few slices of bread, an old bent toasting fork and make toast smothered in butter, sitting in the dark, just watching the fire make "faces" in the coals. Oh God! ... I'm drooling!

God!! You lot were totally mad!! Wish I'd lived on your street!

How have we managed to live to be this old?!!!!

We used to find a piece of brick that would fit between the grating over those gutter drains. Then we'd fasten a banger to it and light the fuse. When it was fizzing and not likely to be put out by the water, we'd drop it in the drain. Lots of evil smelling bubbles, a dull WHUMPP! that you could feel through your feet, and everybody covered in stinking drain water. What larks!!

Thoroughly agree. I'm a member of the Ashfield club, and through them a member of the National Council for Metal Detecting. As Banjo48 says, most people think we leave huge holes and loads of mess - if I did I'd be out of the club immediately. Last week I was detecting on pasture land in Derbyshire, carefully cutting and lifting a flap of turf, extracting the targets (dozens of milk carton caps!!!), refilling the hole and carefully replacing the flap. Honestly - you couldn't tell where I'd been unless you got down on your hands and knees! Unfortunately we all get tarred with the same brush an

Eyup Rog, Do you search through the topsoil that the excavators take off? I've found that most of the interesting stuff I've found is less than 6" deep. If your archaeologist friends would like help searching the spoil heaps .... I volunteer!!

Yes, it still appears that metal detectorists are still seen in a bad light. I think they imagine we dig huge pits in which they'll lose their tractors. I find it quite ironic that I'm out there with, at most, my little border spade which is sometimes seen as pure vandalism, and archaeoligsts come along and take the top 6" off with a bulldozer! I read recently that treasure finds are up again on previous years and that metal detectorists were responsible for 92% of the finds!

Hi, Sorry! That title was a marketing ploy, just to get your attention – though treasure, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder! Does anyone out there own a farm, smallholding or a bit a waste ground? Does anyone have any farmer friends who they would put a good word in for me? I have been dabbling with metal detecting for a couple of years now, usually just taking a detector on holiday so me and the grandkids could go “treasure hunting” on the beach. Since retiring I decided to go into it “properly”, and since finding land to detect on is very difficult I joined a club. The plus side

I'm afraid with our first winter fuel allowance me and the wife bought a Wii. Figured all that jumping about would keep us warm! On a more serious note, I suppose I don't really need it, but ... if I give it back to the government it's a drop in the ocean - and they probably don't have the mechanism to actually accept it back if I give it to charity how do I know it's being put to good use. Will it actually get there or go towards a new plane or car for some dictator. Will most of it be eaten up by admin costs? if I support a child in a third world country (like England!) how do I know that

I used to read the comics too, as you can see!. Dandy on Tuesday and Beano Thursday if I remember right. My Mum used to get me the Classic Comic series which I suppose were the forerunner of today's graphic novels. These were brilliant adaptations of classic books such as War of the Worlds and plays like Cyrano de Bergerac, both of which are still firm favourites of mine. I see that you can still get them and they are recommended reading in some schools.

Nah! The butler does that!

Thanks folks. Always on the lookout for new authors. I've tried to read Lawrence, but couldn't get on with him. Having lived for years in Eastwood I thought it was obligatory! It was funny hearing folk who's parents knew Lawrence what they actually though of him. He upset quite a lot of the locals, particularly the wealthy Barber family, by including them in his books - not very well disguised either! They thought, "Ay wer a mucky bugger. Ay used t' gi the gels a 'apeney t' stand on ther' 'eds so 'e cud see ther nickers" Having been a keen hill walker I also like the Stephen Booth books set i

Can't get through a day without dipping into a book or three! My grandma (here she is again!) used to say, "Ye'rd read the bleddy rent book if yer ent gorrowt else" What do you like? I like a good novel where the characters are well defined so that you care about what happens to them. If I get the slightest feeling of, "he wouldn't say that!" it puts me right off. Doesn't really matter what the story is. You wouldn't call Stephen King's novels believable, but his characters generally are. Have enjoyed the crime novels of Michael Connelly, R. J. Ellory (no, not Ellroy) and Dennis Lehane to a

oops! Sorry for repeating, must be those cucumber sandwiches!

Blidduth, way aht past Mapp'leh

A nod to all grandparents, too. If you've read any of my posts you'll notice I'm always quoting my grandma. My dad died when I was 3, and as my mum had to go out to work I spent an awful lot of time at grandma's. She had had eight kids and it was always jolly and busy - bit like Madness's "Our House". All the neighbours would drop in - we had a particularly foul mouthed lady with a heart of gold living a few doors away. She used to bring rhubarb from her garden - and the custard powder - and the milk! Grandma was always saying to her (regarding her swearing), "You'll never get to heaven, D" F

Just remembered another one of grandma's. To laze about annoyingly, loll about, or lean idly against something was to "slawm". Like at dinner - "Sit up straight an' stop slawming abaht", or "If yuh don't stop slawming abaht yu'll ger a clarrup rahnd yer tab"

Yes, my grandma used to say, "Up the dancers". Never heard of Dolly, though. Wonder who she was?

Nature red in tooth and claw! Great photos. Beefsteak, I sold it for peanuts. The BMC gave me a few maps, but the Scandinavian mag sent 100 euros. I was just chuffed to have it published. First and only time I reckon!