Saturday Supplement

Greetings my faithful followers, how would you like a little extra this sunny Saturday morning?

Mrs B and I have just had a few days away in Norfolk, we walked miles and Mrs B still has the sore feet to prove it.

We decided to visit Sandringham, and we are glad we did. We spent several hours wandering around the grounds and having a quick look through the house. Actually when we arrived, the place was not open so we just sort of wandered around waiting, but as the time approached for the gates to open we made our way back to the gate. The sign clearly stated that the gates opened at 10.30 and the house at 11am but this did not stop a family rushing to get ahead of Mrs B and I, very rude, very Scottish and I'm not sure which was more annoying.

Our First View

 The Queen was quite happy with us trailing around her garden, seeing her dead dogs, buying her banana loaf and a cup of tea, examining her old cars and discovering the wildlife before actually getting to the house and trampling through in our boots which were now covered in goose droppings. Liz didn't care though because she employs an army of local pensioners to pick it off with their false teeth when it dries.

We were quite glad of the goose droppings because it covered up the smell of the dead rabbit...let me explain.

Royal Ducks

As we were driving to Sandringham from our hotel in Old Hunstanton (Best Western Le Strange Arms - don't go, it's crap) it was clear that many poor little rabbits had failed in their efforts to cross the road. The carriageway was littered with their bodies, it was like Watership Down meets Hamburger Hill. Anyway, as we passed one bloated carcass, a lorry travelling in the opposite direction ran it over and the explosion of that dead rabbit was quite ferocious - our car was covered in rotting, stinking entrails and crap. Thank goodness my window was closed!

I tried to remove it with a tissue but it soon became apparent that I needed a bigger tissue than Mrs B actually carried in her handbag.

After we left Sandringham, we found one of the many hand car washes that have sprung up all around the country and for £6, the nice Romanian gypsies cleaned all the blood and guts from the car.

It was an action filled short break, Mrs B and I meandered across the cliff tops from Old Hunstanton to New Hunstanton although calling it 'New' is a bit of a joke, Slightly Soiled Hunstanton would be a better description. We managed to find a chip shop that was open and we noted the enterprising owner had cornered the market in selling bottles of ketchup - it was 10p for a little paper sachet of ketchup or £1 for a bottle. There were many leaving that chip shop with their chips in one hand and their Daddies in the other.

One of the greatest pleasures Mrs B and I share on these little breaks is people watching, I'm sure people must think we are quite mad as we burst out into laughter after spotting something that amuses us, we are in our own little world and on this trip, although it was 74 degrees, we noted that many people found it too cold to discard their fleeces! We were in our short sleeves and I had my hat on to prevent a burnt head and yet there were mothers telling children to put their jumpers on in case they got a chill.

Mrs B is the one on the right!

I understand old people feeling the cold, it's like human years and dog years, 74 degrees for young people is about minus 16 for a anyone over 80.

Of course we did have that one person who insisted on walking around Sandringham in his skin and a very snug pair of shorts (Mrs B noticed they were snug not me), we were hoping Prince Phil would pop out from behind the shrubbery and shoot him - but no such luck.

I nearly forgot to say, in the Museum we saw the belongings of Captain Frank Beck, the Kings Agent who led his men to Gallipoli in WW1 and what followed was the story filmed as All The Kings Men, with David Jason and myself. One of us had the lead role and one of us was man with donkey - you work it out.

Apart from a rip off hotel with crap service, we had a nice time and are now looking forward to more adventures as we travel the world, although this morning it will be a short trip to B&Q for a letter box - how exotic!

Thank you for reading my children, go about your business in good humour and take this one piece of advice for free - avoid dead rabbits!

A Day for Fleeces?

Laughter, Happiness and Well Being

Welcome to the first installment of the new fortnightly View from the Hill, a chance to learn something about the world we share just by reading these words of wisdom gifted to you with love and humility by GuruDrew.

Today, I share with you my View on Laughter, Happiness and Well Being.

I think, therefore I am sure it was René Descartes, that great philosopher, who once said “happiness, happiness, the greatest gift that I possess”. He was a man of great insight and he also wrote most of Ken Dodd’s hit records.

Happiness is a great gift, and we should be glad when we are the recipient of such a gift - but who was it who also said “it is better to give than receive”...I believe it was Graham Norton.

Norton is a man who has given so much of himself to others over the course of many years, he has freely offered that little bit of himself that brings a smile to the lips of his fellow men - his humour.

His personal well being, his outward glow not merely a result of all the fresh air in Ireland, no, it comes from knowing that he has given of himself in such a generous way.

In a world of sadness and sorrow, in a world where bad things can happen when we least expect it, in a world where Ed Balls exists, we need a little shaft of sunshine, we need a giggle, we need that humorous antidote.

I have known great sadness in my life, the loss of loved ones, the disappointment when things don’t go your way, failing to achieve the things I set out to achieve, and worst of all, seeing Katie Price on the television...but I overcame all of this through a positive mental attitude and by having a bloody good laugh at the expense of others.

Because although laughter is uplifting and invigorating, it invariably flows from the failure of others to see the pile of dog mess before they tread in it. The old time comics had it perfectly worked out, I’m thinking of the likes of Laurel and Hardy. We laughed so hard as kids whilst we watched them push each other over, get poked in the eye or get hit on the head with bricks. It was called slapstick comedy, now it’s called Saturday night in Mansfield town centre.

Their pain was our salvation, their humiliation was our path to feeling just a little better that we couldn’t have anymore sweets because we were “getting too fat”!

I used to watch Oliver Hardy and think, one day, one day that will be me! I will be the recipient of the bricks and the pain and somewhere a little fat boy will stop crying and forget that his budgie just been eaten by the neighbours cat.

Of course, I didn’t become Oliver Hardy, I still retain that fine physique that often has me confused with Simon McCorkindale in his Manimal days.





Let us consider the power of laughter in the world. When you see the great world leaders laugh together you just know that the world is safer, and of course they are all laughing at Monsieur Sarkozy, the French President and trainee munchkin, and he in turn is laughing at them because he gets to go home with Carla.


And how many of us laughed when the Germans got knocked out of the World Cup? You see, we revel in the pain of others, our laughter sets us free from the shackles of misery.


I recall the story of a man who lost everything he owned through a gambling habit, on his way home to tell his sick wife of his misfortune a terrible tornado appeared and destroyed his home, killing his wife and worst of all smashing his plasma telly. As he drove towards the ruined house, his dog, so happy to see his master, ran to meet him and was crushed to death under the wheels of the car.

But did this man cry? Well, yes a little bit, but then he began to laugh, he laughed until he cried (again) and he was still laughing as they took him away. You see, laughter has the power to move people. He also made a fortune again selling his story to a country singer who then released it as a number one best seller.

Laughter really is the best medicine (unless you have wind in which case I suggest Rennies) and we should be ready to swallow that medicine as well as bottle it and offer it to others.

The next time you are feeling under the weather just have a walk where people gather, a supermarket, a pub or the job centre - and just take the time to see how much sadder the lives of others can be...just think about the poverty, the lack of fashion sense, the amazing ability some troglodytes possess to have running water in the house but never let it touch their skin!

Consider all of that and smile, and as that supercilious feeling spreads around your body revel in the feeling. Then as the warmth begins to spread, you might feel a little smirk, let the smirk widen into a smile and let that smile break out into a huge laugh - and you will feel so much better, I guarantee it!

And that was the View on Laughter, Happiness and Well Being.

I leave you with this final thought:

He who laughs last - is probably an idiot...so laugh at him.


Thank you for taking in The View from the Hill, soon I will return bringing with me The View on Special Educational Needs.