As a trustee of the society I am responsible along with Cousin Belinda for the Facebook page. We are currently approaching 5000 members and it's a real self help site with enthusiasts interacting with each other and the great thing is it's free. You just have to sign up to become a member.
Once you've done that you will be able to take part in discussions. You might also like to consider joining the society. Membership starts at £12 a year and that gives access to millions of records on our Norfolk Records Search area, along with four copies of our magazine "Norfolk Ancestor" a year and much more - plug over.
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I would like to talk about whistling. This was prompted by a piece I read about the Weybourne Whistler.
We spend a lot of time in Weybourne, so I got to thinking that maybe I'm the Weybourne Whistler. That's because I whistle a lot.
I've said before that I usually have a song playing in my head. It can be anything from folk to rock to classical and it can come from nowhere. As it plays in my head it can often result in my whistling the tune.
This annoys the other threequarters a lot. And being a pretty annoying person, usually makes me do it all the more. It annoys virtually every person in my family but I just can't help myself.
I read another article (I read quite a lot of articles) about the art of whistling being lost. That's probably because life's whistlers are nagged into stopping. It used to be looked on as an artform, now it's just deemed a nuisance.
But I'm not the legendary Weybourne Whistler although I have been known to whistle in Weybourne. The legend states that if you stand on the shingle beach at dusk as the sun is going down you might hear the ghostly whistling coming off the sea.
It is thought the whistling might have something to do with smugglers and warnings to those waiting for contraband to be brought ashore. One specific lookout smuggler was trying to contact his mates to warn them that the customs and excise men were at hand. Problem was the smuggler had dallied too long in the arms of a lover and the fellow smugglers had hotfooted it leaving him high and dry The fry part of this changed a bit when he waded out to sea to avoid arrest and drowned.
Many is the late evening that we have stood on the beach to watch the sun go down. After 6pm you can park there for free (does North Norfolk Council's generosity knows no bounds?) I have taken lots of photos of the sun going down and often there are fishermen at the water's edge.
We have never heard the ghostly whistling but now I live in hope. Meanwhile I reckon I will continue whistling even if it is only for my own amusement. Perhaps someone will identify me as the ghostly Weybourne Whistler.
Note to readers who don't know Norfolk. Weybourne is on the North Norfolk coast about three miles from Sheringham. It has an historic church, a deli, a pub, a village hall and a beach amongst other things. Former prime minister John Major owns a property there although we have never seen him. Perhaps he's the phantom whistler.
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There is nothing I won't do in the name of research. Take the current temperatures in Europe. Blisteringly hot and well into 40 degrees.
So in the name of research I spent 20 minutes yesterday in a sauna. There the temperature was over 100 degrees. So a mere 45 is just piffle.
Actually I can only stand a sauna for a few minutes. As the old saying goes - if you can't stand the heat get out of the health club (I may have got that slightly wrong).
I was in the sauna when a chap came in and seemed to want to talk about climate control and ever increasing temperatures. You didn't have to tell me that as the temperature in the sauna was well into the red zone.
I always feel the sauna does me good. As soon as I get in there I start sweating in a very sticky kind of way. I always think this is getting rid of some impurities and acting as a detox.
Anyway this guy talked about the climate and then added how refreshing it was when he went out for a walk to see wild blackberries growing.
Yesterday he picked some and added them to the ice cream he had with his evening meal. He came from the Midlands where they obviously don't have wild blackberries. Later in the day as we took the granddog for a walk we picked some blackberries which we had later for tea.
After he left, another guy came into the sauna and started talking about climate control. It must have been that kind of day.
Somebody once asked me how I can write so much tripe.
"I get up early in the morning," was my response.
Now from talking to various bloggettes I have learnt that many read the blog while they are drinking a cup of tea or coffee. I have no idea how long it takes for an average person to drink a cup of coffee. It depends on how big the cup is, how distracted the drinker is, how hot the liquid is and much more.
But I hope my twitterings last long enough for the average bloggette to drink an average cup of tea or coffee.