I'm a bit worried about two little house-martins who are still zooming about above our houses. They should have joined the other twenty or so on their long journey back to tropical parts. They must leave or they will die, because the little flying insects are dwindling fast, and there will be nothing for them to eat.
On my journey out to Fakenham (supermarket run) I noticed that all the horse-chestnut trees along the route were in their autumn colours, with conkers dropping onto the road. (They can damage ones windscreen, but luckily this didn't happen).
As children we used to go mad for conkers, and pierce them, thread them onto an old shoelace then play 'Conkers' for ages in the playground. Some of the boys would harden their conker with vinegar, or a short spell in the oven at home. The aim was to have the conker that had smashed the most opponents' ones. (eg a 'tenner')
Nowadays they're banned, because the Snowflake Generation might hurt themselves!