Timbo

Now call me Scrooge...but I always used to get a kind of perverse pleasure in knowing the cheap Tesco Bog Rolls were made from old Christmas Cards... I try really hard NOT to shop at Tesco as I find that they are the biggest rip off merchants going, dab hands at putting products on a shelf with a special offer only to charge you full skitter when it goes through the checkout! Nine times out of ten fresh fruit & veg are rotten in the poly bag and meat is as tough as old boots...fairly sure last beef joint we bought had 'Doc Martin Air-wear' stamped on it. I'd much rather use the market stalls and proper butchers...but in their 'wisdom' my local council closed down our indoor market hall for a bus station. Then when the market had almost recovered trade in its new location they closed the market square for months while they laid fancy cobbles. Our market is now almost gone baring the odd and occasional stall. Even the Bible bashers don't turn up any more for lack of victims I mean possible converts to harangue. This is why I enjoy shopping on the Broads so much...Roys food hall not an own brand in sight, local butchers, grocers, bakers...perfect!

Don't you dare mention anything about 'Standard's MM!

I'm being plagued by young mothers bringing their kids to the door begging for food! I hate all this American nonsense bring back good old mischievous night...dog muck on a thumbtack carefully placed on a gate latch...the button on two lengths of thread attached to a window frame so you can tap on the window and let the button slide out of sight and back up again...or remove the thread and leg it!

Hmmm looking forward to the blog as usual Robin, but having seen the photos...£2.5K a week for a Travelodge?

Not for those of a nervous disposition! Thirty one feet ten by ten feet one the size of the confinement. Water surrounds, no escape. Thrice daily the ritual is observed. Cruelly the victim is forced to take out the implements of his own torture. Sharp knives for evisceration, salt for the wounds. His tormentor sits and slobbers in anticipation. Knives slice into flesh...hot steel is heated to sear, and crisp the delicate flesh, but these are nothing compared to the sickening guttural snarls, coughs, sniffs, snorts and grunts of the tormentor which sicken the victim to the core. All too soon jaws with blunted teeth slice and grind, pulling flesh from the bone to slide thick and slick into the greased maw. Although starving himself the feeding frenzy drives all thoughts of hunger from the victim. At last the feeding has ended, the monster sated... for the now. "Eee Lad! Tha makes a good pork chop!" exclaims Uncle Albert wiping the grease from his mouth on the back of his sleeve "Any chance of a cup of tea?"

The yearly bombardment has started! BANG! Both beagles are hiding in the wardrobe BANG! sound asleep thankfully. BANG! Some BANG! people BANG! have BANG! money BANG! to BANG! burn BANG! I give up! BANG!

Ye Gods! It almost costs more per week to hire than my yearly outgoings on Royal Tudor! We have a wine & beer cooler too, depending on where we are it's called the Ant, sometimes the Bure, occasionally the Thurne, next year it might be the Yare, although even Uncle Albert now realises the severe penalties that ensue from cooling my Rioja. I must say I'm looking forward to what Robin has to say!

The other week I chanced upon some of those 'naturalist' type people...not the ones in the 'nood' the other type. I've documented our meeting in the blog, but it left me wondering do the nature groups that so much have the ear of the Broads Authority contribute anything financially to the Broads Authority? Is anyone a member of such an organisation? Don't get me wrong I'm not 'anti wildlife' or anti conservation, in fact part of the joy of the Broads for me is to be able to see the wildlife and sit and draw or paint it. Its just that I often wonder amidst all the fighting and falling out as to whether there is a better way of preserving and funding what we have and of course educating and getting other disciplines such as archaeologists and historians involved.. I've noticed that many groups including museums like the Time and Tide at Yarmouth as well as the Wildlife organisations are trotting out the tired old 'in Roman Times it was all under water' theory with regard to the Broadland landscape that is now thirty years out of date and wrong. Isn't there any attempt going on to get everyone to the table so we can all sing from the same sheet?

Hang on a minute Frank...does this mean at one point Judi let you down Commercial Road...she then discovered the presence of said shop at which point you were barred from traversing said road...consequently said shop has stopped trading?

Arm and Hammer Toothpaste and a microfibre cloth...will not only clean but will polish up your aluminium!

Wouldn't that be Ging Gang Goolies rattling?

Maurice, shhh... pull that transparent blind down, you fool! Now, play this recording of £10,000, take the money and sew it into the lining of your socks! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JrSlU1OJjl8 Have my resharpened wire wool delivered post haste to my château in the Norfolk Alps addressed to Sticky Tim Plinge and mind the wet varnish....and Ta!

Water lapping at the hull, the clink of guides against masts, the quacks, squawks, squeaks and rustles of the birds, trotting a fishing line, isolation, the way the sunlight dapples on the water, lightening flashing across the marsh, being close to history, boats, wooden boats, fibreglass boats, concrete boats, the flap of sail, the chug of diesel, the gurgle of petrol, the smell of wood, diesel and water....but most of all the people, the help they give, the guidance, the laughs, the loves, comradeship, a quiet pint with friends, a raucous howl of laughter, the odd chunter at a passing pillock, sailors, pirates, holiday makers rangers and locals. No matter where I am...my head and my heart are in Broadland.

It's like coming round in casualty after getting knocked down by a bus and wondering if you put clean underwear on! Well I've followed all of the advice. I was using white spirit to clean my brushes but gave them a thorough cleaning today, I used Uncle Albert's comb he left here last time he stayed...he's not got enough hair to worry about a comb! I realised I was doing one thing wrong in shaking the tin of varnish before I started. Just as an experiment I sanded back the offending section hard and applied another coat...and everything seems to have settled down and dried properly now, although of course there is a visible difference in the thickness of the layers of varnish at that point. So tomorrow I will sand back the whole side of the door and start all over again building up the layers. Thanks guys for the help and advice I will post the results of the varnishing as soon as I can. In the meantime here's how I dealt with cleaning the metalwork.

What's with all this slacking? Three weeks off? I can see nothing get's done if I'm not down there supervising...oh hang on I think that's the other way around ...yup, nothing get's done if I am down there supervising!

I'm currently working on the doors in my kitchen I mean workshop at home. The door I'm working on is one of the door that leads from RT's centre cockpit to her galley. I sanded off the old varnish. I didn't apply any Nitromors to this door. I sanded through 80 grit, 120 grit, 240 and finally 320 grit papers. There was some severe discolouration between the two sides of the door so I applied a spirit based stain (Colron) which was given 24 hours to dry. I applied two thinned layers of varnish allowing 24 hours between each layer and gave a light sanding of both layers before applying a third layer which is when I got the bubbling after 12 hours of drying time. Of course it would be on the side of the door that is always visible! Here's an image of what's happening, the dark shadow is my reflection while I'm taking the photo, the bubbling is on the right of the image.' The only thing I can think of is that 24 hours may not be enough time between coats? I also have it in my head that this is a part of the door that Uncle Albert swings from with his grubby paws. The door has now had around 36 hours of drying time since last I did anything to it which was to lightly sand back the affected area and apply a very thinned solution of varnish which has seemed to reduce the degree of wrinkling from what it was. Now I have the daughter with me today so it will get another day of drying, but I was wondering whether I was being 'too gentle', as I have a tendency to be with most of the work on RT, and instead should give the whole door a more vigorous sanding before carrying on adding my layers of varnish?

A fantastic spectacle of skill, bravery and a chance to revel in the excellence of our armed forces...of course the Royal Navy always put on the best show, but then I'm biased...but I really, really miss the Royal Tournament. It was something I would always watch on TV without fail, and then Uncle Albert out group Scout Leader organised for our Scout Troop, complete with two of our cub packs, to attend. I was called back from an archaeological dig, in Israel I think...could have been Bahrain, it was hot anyway...on some family emergency only to discover Uncle Albert needed me and my leaders warrant for the trip down to Earls Court. I didn't mind, I was more excited than the kids. The train journey down was very noisy...not the kids, we had a carriage full of Geordies ringing folks they vaguely knew to tell them they were going to London. The train was late arriving in London and we had to quickly swap to the tube where we encountered our first problem. Of the sixty or so kids we had with us about twenty decided they were now travel sick and hurled on the tube train. Fortunately two of the parents accompanying us volunteered to stay and clean up, but its the first time I've ever ridden in a tube carriage devoid of Londoners. Off the tube and heading for Earls Court we started to encounter military personnel in uniform. The kids were getting excited...so much so that one of the cubs came across a mannequin dressed in combats and kicked seven bells out of it before Uncle Albert collared him. Uncle Albert kept the lad by his side from then on. Once inside Earls Court we got to our seats with around ten minutes to spare. The young combat veteran Uncle Albert had collared was looking a little green when we took our seats. He peered over the seat in front whose occupant's head was on a level with the young lads toes. Uncle Albert got the lad to sit back...but he was now looking really green. My Mum, our Venture Scout Leader, spotted the lad and and called to Uncle Albert just as the young lad was sick. Quick as a flash Uncle Albert dived across and spread his hands to catch the vomit which was at that point approaching the speed of sound. Just in time Uncle Albert made the save...only for the liquid to spray in a vast arc over the crowd below us. It went every where! A chief petty officer saw the incident, and laughed as he escorted us to new seats while his ratings cleaned our old ones. From our new seats...much better ones we could also see some prominent Tory politicians, but the poor lad was unable to replicate his earlier spectacle...much to my chagrin. I do wish they would bring back the Royal Tournament, I know they tried again but could not make a profit. In my view who cares about profit...it was fantastic to see!

Gentlemen of the NBN Brains Trust we have encountered a problem...Houston I can't hold her...she's breaking up...Your mission, should you choose to accept it... I've got a problem with varnish crinkling...ever such a tiny amount on one door. I'm giving the varnish plenty of time to cure before knocking it back with 320 grit paper, yet I keep getting an area on this one marine ply door (the area keeps moving around btw) that will not play ball. I've stripped the door back once already and started again, and this little patch has bubbled up again but in a different place. The question...is there a cure without striping it all back again...or if I have to strip it all back again how do I stop it happening for the third time?

Thanks Alan, I was not happy using the Nitromors I've had disasters with it in the past. i hope you realise this means I've now got to visit Uncle Albert as most of your recipe will be available in his drinks cabinet?

"There are three prevalent trends in the varnish of wooden boats on the Broads. There is the ‘slapper on a night out’ golden orange colour. There’s the ‘tart too long on a sun-bed’ deep red colour and even the ‘bint that put fake tan on her scabby legs in the dark’ hotchpotch of multicoloured streaks ranging from orange, to deep red, to a goose-pimple pallid pink. I'm sad to say that, at the moment, Royal Tudor follows the latter!" There is so much conflicting information, advice and tips on varnishing out there that all my previous attempts had resulted in failure, so I decided to keep trying until I managed the finish that I was after. Eventually I was successful and thought it a good idea to document the steps I took, starting with preparation.

Named in honour of Charles Darwin, the father of evolution, the Darwin Awards commemorate those who improve our gene pool by removing themselves from it.

Iain...your credit card got off very lightly indeed...you went to Beverley and didn't visit Browns Department Store? An Emporium of delights frequented by the well clad boater!

I have to admit there was a tear in my eye when Ziggy went. How are you feeling Jon...you've been ill and we don't want you popping off?

Uncle Albert's last house was a pearler! Originally built in 1635 it had been converted to a one up two down in 1850. Then in 1940 the owner decided to convert the house yet again into a bungalow...however he used what was available during war time. Walls seemed to have strange angles where they joined other walls. Later we found this was due to the fact that the old boy had used concrete fence posts with an angle at the top he had half inched from RAF Finningley as lintels. The posts were discovered when the builder making alterations hit the lintel with a sledge hammer. The result very Loony Tunes as the hammer head stayed still and the builder vibrated. Of course Uncle Albert in his own inimitable fashion bodged his way around the house. The kitchen was made from reclaimed timber from pallets. Not well made. No sooner would he finish plastering a ceiling than he would decide to climb up into the loft after a few beers...and then promptly fall through it. Varnished built in cupboards would be scraped down with pieces of broken glass to lighten them...and then to make mahogany look modern & made of pine...Uncle Albert would draw knot holes on them in marker pen. The ditch protecting the single brick house from rainwater running off the field behind us was excavated by Uncle Albert until he got three feet below the foundations. He refused to have a radiator put in the bathroom and painted the bathroom walls in gloss paint...water would freeze on the walls in winter, and if you spent too long sat on the loo sheets of ice would peel away from the wall and slice down your back. I still have a scar on my shoulder from this happening to me. Uncle Albert also placed a boiler on an internal wall in the kitchen. Not only that, the corner of the boiler was positioned so that it was 5'9" exactly from the floor and projected into the room midway between the pantry and the living room door. The result...every time I got hungry I would walk into the corner of the boiler...as I'm 6'2" it would hit me square between the eyes and knock me senseless. I have to say that Mum was a little more practical...although Uncle Albert did once pass her the end of a wire and asked her to 'suck this and see if it's live'. I'd just walked into the room as she was lifting the wire to her cake hole and managed to stop her. Uncle Albert swears it wasn't live but you can never tell. So now you know why Jon and Doug check on me on a regular basis when I'm working on the boat. With a heritage like that they have come to realise that if I'm waving at them from the boat...I've nailed my other hand to the deck.

Good pub, choice of beer a bit limited but what they have is kept well, good food. personally I would prefer to take a gentle walk into Stalham to the kebab shop...truly wondrous food...but then I am a tight wad!