After an unseasonably warm October with elderly chaps flashing their knobbly knees to all and sundry on the streets, November has cooled down nicely, with ever-shorter days, damp nights and misty mornings. To perk up these tittle-me-fancies, we upped the tog on the duvet, pre-ordered the Christmas tree and topped up the logs for the wood burner. We also took a restorative Sunday stroll along the nearby River Chet to forage tit-faggots. The muddy path was littered with ’em.

If you click the first image and look really closely, you’ll spot a tittle-me-fancy lurking in the rushes.

According to Keith Skipper’s Larn Yarself Norfolk, a tittle-me-fancy is a pansy, and tit-faggots are bundles of sticks for kindling. Well, tittle-me-fancy that. Gotta love this Naarfuk lingo.