Returning home yesterday afternoon from the far north eastern corner of the Dengie Peninsular in Essex, I saw this sign at the side of the road near Bradwell-on-Sea. Obviously amused, I carried on driving and then, after a mile or so decided I really should've photographed it. So I turned back, and very intrigued I carefully opened the makeshift box that had painted on it 'Bulls Eggs In Here'. Of course it contained boxes of hen's eggs, but I now know that the owners of the chickens are David and Ruth Bull. How do I know? Well, after buying half-a-dozen eggs I drove back home to Leicestershire, and a hundred miles or so later I came to a halt on the A14 at Cambridge due to an accident. As I sat there waiting I thought I'd check my shots. Of course I would've done if I'd had my camera. I hadn't, because it was still sitting on top of the egg cupboard in Essex. But after a very long haul back and a spell of furious googling by my girlfriend, I eventually arrived back at the egg box. No camera. But a man carrying buckets of eggs across a field (the gate had 'Beware Of The Bull' on it) stopped and stared at me. "Are you Mr.Bull?" I called out, "I'm Peter". He put the buckets down and shouted back "Then I'm just about to reunite you with your camera". Thankyou so much Mr & Mrs.Bull, thankyou Tess of the D'Urbervilles. Full acknowledgement will be rendered elsewhere. Right, where's my egg timer. Phew.
Wednesday, 28 April 2010
The Egg Box Camera
Returning home yesterday afternoon from the far north eastern corner of the Dengie Peninsular in Essex, I saw this sign at the side of the road near Bradwell-on-Sea. Obviously amused, I carried on driving and then, after a mile or so decided I really should've photographed it. So I turned back, and very intrigued I carefully opened the makeshift box that had painted on it 'Bulls Eggs In Here'. Of course it contained boxes of hen's eggs, but I now know that the owners of the chickens are David and Ruth Bull. How do I know? Well, after buying half-a-dozen eggs I drove back home to Leicestershire, and a hundred miles or so later I came to a halt on the A14 at Cambridge due to an accident. As I sat there waiting I thought I'd check my shots. Of course I would've done if I'd had my camera. I hadn't, because it was still sitting on top of the egg cupboard in Essex. But after a very long haul back and a spell of furious googling by my girlfriend, I eventually arrived back at the egg box. No camera. But a man carrying buckets of eggs across a field (the gate had 'Beware Of The Bull' on it) stopped and stared at me. "Are you Mr.Bull?" I called out, "I'm Peter". He put the buckets down and shouted back "Then I'm just about to reunite you with your camera". Thankyou so much Mr & Mrs.Bull, thankyou Tess of the D'Urbervilles. Full acknowledgement will be rendered elsewhere. Right, where's my egg timer. Phew.
Blimey, what a relief. A big glass of eggnog all round for all concerned, then. Or a glass of bull's blood.
ReplyDeleteI had a very big glass of something, I can tell you. Actually more than one.
ReplyDeletePeter.I did exactly the same last week, but had only travelled a further mile. Mine was being picked up from the roadside by a very large man on a Harley Davidson, who handed it to me and wished me a good day! My faith in humanity was restored.
ReplyDeletecan't beat a harley rider tobe .....!!!!!!!!
ReplyDeleteI lost the ancient carburettor from a veteran bike I was trailing on saturday somewhere between New Anzac and Hastings - sadly although I retraced the journey on sunday there was unsurprisingly, no sign. Not quite as valuable as the Leica but much more difficult to replace. Not a helpful Harley'iste in sight so it's probably a paperweight by now or a home for snails.
ReplyDeleteI have made so bold as to nick this for a post about photo blogs. I hope you don't mind.....
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