Airfix Engine Shed

 Sunday morning down at the engine shed. 

Mumbling Malcolm, Peter Peckett and Deliberation Dave are trying to justify their weekend overtime they’ve wangled, by mooching about checking and double checking what they checked earlier on. There can never be enough checks when handing such potentially dangerous machinery. 

Terry Tuttle-Thomas-Smythe and Bob Geeza Cat are also mooching about, scouting for new spots to use for their illicit hooch production, but can’t work out why there is such a gap under the locomotive shed doors. Could it be a measuring error, or has the wood shrunk? Or maybe the building has grown, but not the doors? Or did they simply not have enough wood to do a proper job? We will probably never know, but apparently Airfix based their much loved plastic kit on the building here. 

And finally, yes the smoke extractor really is a boat propeller, it reputedly coming off a WW1 Royal Navy launch which went astray and ran aground just up from Brentford Dock on the Grand Union Canal next to the old Firestone rubber factory. Why this happened, much like the loco shed doors, we’ll probably never know, but being in the land of the inch high, booze will almost certainly have been involved. That and excessive snacking on pickled winkles. 

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The Skidmark Monkeys

 Saturday morning down by the ‘water tower’. 

New to the area locomotive fireman Lonnie Doonican, who at weekends plays banjo and sings rather badly in his skiffle group The Skidmark Monkeys, calls over to Waving Wally (though it might be Waving Willy) for assistance with the water hose. 

Wally replies back saying that he must be new to the job, because whilst it looks like a water tower, it is in fact a dispensary and storage for locally produced hooch. 

“But if you want to fill up, beware your engine might take on a whole new character and will run at twice (‘two times’ for children and Americans) its normal speed. But seeing you’re in a skiffle band and play banjo, you’ll be used to such double speed jollity.”

And finally, what’s with the raised bricks on the wall to the right? That’s a secret braille type code for the partially sighted or blind and says ‘hooch’. Though only the very tallest can use it. 

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Candy Crushers & Pot Noodlers

Thursday at Windmill Sidings - in a part of forgotten Norfolk which cannot be found on any maps. It’s first thing, and not a soul is yet to be seen next to the ancient disused windmill, which last saw traditional use 100 years before the railway came. 

However, the locals maintain it for pagan correction rituals; those with eyes too close together, witches, aggressive vegans, tee-totallers, Prius owners, those who wear spandex sports attire, Lambrini drinkers, shandy drinkers, young men who wear their jeans too low, latte drinkers, those who leave half a pint of beer undrunk, owners of metallic poo brown cars, couscous eaters, trainer wearers, politicians, despots, local government officers, those who order posh coffee in busy pubs, pot noodlers, double glazing salesman, virtue signallers, those who demand sprinkles on their ice cream, shouty people on mobile phones, Candy Crushers, banjolele players, and anyone from out of town. 

These often lost souls are attached to the windmill arms and spun around until they repent. Other than that, it’s a lovely spot to spend a sunny Thursday morning.