This post originally appeared on Naked Blog.

I wake to the sound of gunshot. Three shots. Bam, bam, bam!

It’s just after 8am. Another shot. Bam!

It’s joyous to be living somewhere where the sound of gunshot means that there’s a ‘shoot’ rather than a ‘shooting’.

I don’t feel particularly refreshed, having drunk too much last night then watched the scary Anthony Hopkins Eats People film. Beside me, the LTLP snores gently like a baby – I want to reach out and gently touch her hair.

Oh that this was true. In fact she is snoring like a big heffalump, and I want to reach out and gently bash her over the head with a wok.

Sensing that this would not get Sunday morning off to the best start, I ease myself gently out of bed with the grace of a ballerina. I grab some clothes and slip downstairs.

Having been recently appointed as a very important guest contributor to Naked Blog, there is a swagger in my step as I walk into the village. (The village, not the Village). A few people are up already.

“Good morning!” I say to Lady in Her Front Garden, as I pass by.

“Good morning!” she says in reply.

“Good morning!” I say to Man With Beard, on the corner of Church Lane.

“Good morning!” replies Man With Beard.

Honestly, this constant social intercourse is just exhausting.

None of them mention the Naked Blog thing. That is what I like about Norfolk. People take folk as they find them, and they would not dream of treating me any differently just because of my celebrity status.

The shop is closed on Sundays, but newspapers are left outside.

I pick up the paper, chuck the money into the honesty box and amble back for a cup of tea.

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