Brampton, Norfolk

  • A talk on Roman Brampton – to be held at Brampton Church – 27th Saturday 27th September 2014

    What do we know of the Brampton Romans?

    An illustrated talk to be held at Brampton Church

    Saturday 27th September
    7.30pm

    At St Peter’s Church, Brampton

    An illustrated talk by Alice Lyons, a professional archaeologist with a detailed practical knowledge of Norfolk Archaeology, particularly of the Roman period.
    Alice will give an illustrated talk of roughly 40 minutes. With some examples of local finds of that period from the Norwich Castle Museum.
    Following the talk there will be an opportunity to have any of your own finds identified – Roman or “best Woolworths”?

    Tickets: £5 per person

    Contact Mark Little

  • Jim secures win in inaugural Brampton welly-wanging competition

    Jim Henderson proudly displays the trophy which he won against tough competition at Brampton Fete.
    Jim Henderson proudly displays the trophy which he won against tough competition at Brampton Fete.

    Jim Henderson propelled a steel-toe-capped Dunlop size 12s over 20 metres with an impressive (non wind assisted) throw. With this he won Brampton men’s blue riband welly-wang. The event, which was held at the end of the 2014 Brampton Fete was hotly contested. Various throwing techniques were tried by contestants, some of whom came from the area, but also included a strong contingent from the north east. No one could beat Jim’s throw and he collected a trophy which will be displayed at the Village Hall ready for next year’s challenge.

     

  • Brampton gets it’s mojo back – 2014 Fete

    Brampton Fete 2014 - at Low Farm
    Brampton Fete 2014 – at Low Farm

    So that’s it then. The end of August and the Brampton Fete of 2014 has brought Summer to a close. A day of traditional games, tombola, tea and cake, hot dogs, welly wanging – all as it should be in the village. Some things are timeless and the village fete is certainly one. Almost a tribal gathering with the opportunity to renew acquaintances and to relax whilst the weather thankfully favoured us.

    It takes effort from many people to set it all up. We must thank Jill and Andrew, who so kindly agreed to their grounds being taken over for a day, as well as extending gratitude to all the marquee erectors, sign painters, plant growers, tea and cake makers, barbecuers, stall providers, face painters, beer sellers, washer-uppers, grass mowers, welly wangers, removal men, raffle sellers and ticket folders and all of those who attended the event for making the Fete such fun.

    Brampton has got its Mojo back. Now we start planning for next years fete – so please put 29th August 2015 in your diaries

     

  • Wheat harvest

    Last Saturday lunch time the Combine Harvester arrived in the village in order to cut the wheat on the 26 acre Town Field. By eight o’clock that evening, not only had the crop had been fully harvested but the straw had been completely baled. All done in roughly 6 hours. By my calculation the wheat crop would produce enough flour on that one field to produce 210,000 large loaves of bread. Incidentally, a quantity which would only be sufficient for 4 minutes worth of the national demand for bread (roughly 12 million loaves per day).

    This made me think. At the outbreak if the First World War, crop yields were less than a quarter of those which are attained now. In fact, the yield was probably only enough to provide for 53,000 large loaves. It would have taken nearly three days to harvest the wheat on that same field, and then only if they had the benefit of a modern reaper/binder. Before such machinery was available, three experienced farm workers, along with their families to help gather the sheaves and “shock” the crop would take nearly three weeks to cut the wheat. In all likelihood more than three worker’s families from the village would be involved. No wonder harvest was such an important event. An event which now is limited to a Saturday afternoon. A sad comparison in so many ways, but at least we have enough to eat.

  • Wendy Preiss – a Brampton tribute

    A rare event at Brampton in memory of a special Brampton person took place this evening. The church was packed. Standing room only inside, with many able to get no further than just into the porch. The event was the memorial service for the late Wendy (Brereton) Preiss.

    Any such service that can mix the wisdom of Spike Milligan, the ritual of swimming in the North Sea, hunting with harriers and the poetry of Catullus, must reflect the life of a polymath.

    Wendy was extremely well read, she was interested in everyone and had an opinion on everything – whether you agreed with it or not. Above all she was a communicator, in many ways a one women network. Meeting, knowing and understanding people was her forte. Conversations with her were littered with “you must know..(so and so)” or “have you met (such and such)”, but not in some shallow ‘Facebook Friends’ manner. Rather from the genuine interest in helping people make connections along lines which she thought were otherwise missed opportunities. She had a sixth sense for who should meet whom. I guess that she took some private delight in having engineered and acquaintance between those who may have not known about common interests or view points. I know for fact that she was the root creator of many lasting friendships.

    Her opinions were deep and firmly held. She thrived upon debate and loved to throw an opinion into a group like a grenade. She seemed happiest when justifying her view, predicting some political development or finding the scurrilous cause behind some otherwise mysterious event.

    A natural huntswomen, she knew how to get her message across open country. Volume was often high and when the deeply held beliefs needed pressing home. The combination of a lively mind and loud voice made for a powerful weapon. She would have made a superb political campaigner on the traditional soap box.

    It was testament to all of these personal traits that drew so many to pay respects to her memory at Brampton church. I don’t think I have been to a service with such an eclectic mix in attendance. Real people. No one artificial or affected. All of whom had been blessed with having known her. Many solely connected with others there just because of her. A rare event, a unique and rare person. We will remember her for a long time.

     

  • Roe in gold

    It is one if those fine Summer mornings. The barley looks fit and will be ready for harvest soon, the wheat is still green but is on the turn. The ghostly crop marks of the Roman Town are showing themselves in the wheat for that short period before they disappear in a smear of gold as the crop matures. A Barn Owl weaves it’s way amongst the dappled shadows of the trees along the old railway line. As the dogs and I walk up to our turning point we become the focus of attention of a sole Roe Doe. Her ears in sharp v-shaped relief against the white gold of the barley in which she stands. It is not until we haves turned and are at least fifty yards distance, and moving away, that I see her relax and continue browsing in the golden morning.

  • View

    Scrub clearance work by the Bure Valley Railway along the village embankment has created the best scenic view in the parish.on a fine, early July morning the bosky pastoral view of the valley is second to none. In the distance, mists rises from the River Bure. Deer skulk along the woodland edges. It is with. Heavy heart that I have to turn around and go to work.

  • The asylum of Cuckoos

    One of the four gathering in the Brampton asylum
    One of the gang of four gathering in the Brampton asylum

    In the first place it was Andrew’s desire to actually see and not just hear a Cuckoo that made me keep my eyes peeled. The occasion was the Village Barbecue – a gathering of neighbours, which this year was to be held on Geoff and Helen’s ground. Their garden has an enviable location, lying snugly along the western edge of the grazing marshes known as Brampton Common. The Common itself is a wildlife highway. The focus of movement is the route of the clear, slow flow of the River Bure. It seems that much wildlife migration, whether local or international, follows this line.

    It was across the Common or at least on electricity cables which cross it, that the Cuckoos gathered. Not just one Cuckoo but, as our eyes adjusted and binoculars were gathered an as we watched four Cuckoos grouped on the cables. Each would call from time to time. Almost in turn they swooped down intermittently in what must have been the pursuit of some hatching insect. Some food item had drawn their attention and collected them together.

    I attempted to photograph the event with the camera which I had to hand. Grainy images were all I could muster. Some provided a recognisable silhouette, others merely proved that “bird sits on wire”.

    what we saw was a rare event and certainly as far as I am concerned, unseen before now. My original theory that it was a pre-migration gathering (although a little too early in the year) has since been disproven as Cuckoos have continued to call locally all the way through to the end of June.

    it was solely down to that helpful combination of gatherings, a food source and many pairs of eyes. That goes for those at the barbecue and those birds on a wire.

  • Scent

    The scent of Woodbine or Wild Honeysuckle is a glorious assault on the sense of smell. Conditions have to be right. Warm damp mornings, just as the sun warms up the flowers are best. To walk through the fugitive cloud if scent is the very essence of June.

  • Rookie Rooks

    Whilst I walked out in a Summer’s rain shower, the sky seemed to fill with Rooks. These were not your normal Rooks following their slow, purposeful flight lines from roost to feeding ground, or back again. These were young Rooks. Their flight was erratic, directionless, fast and with no stable height. The purpose seemed to be one of pure enjoyment. The thrill of a new skill. Can Rooks joy-ride? These ones appeared to be doing so. Small groups and pairs wheeled round the sky in a sort of Rook circus until normal business seemed to resume once more.

     

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