Fed by Birds

"You could dress up a pigeon in a tiny suit of evening clothes and put a tiny silk hat on his head and a tiny gold-headed cane under his wing and send him walking into my room at night. It would make no impression on me. I would not shout, "Good God almighty, the birds are in charge!" But you could send an owl into my room, dressed only in the feathers it was born with, and no monkey business, and I would pull the covers over my head and scream."

James Thurber, from The Thurber Carnival

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I didn't realise until watching a programme about China that the gibbon has such an extraordinary song - a range of songs, in fact, because sometimes it likes to duet or sing threats to a predator. You can read all about their sounds here, or listen to some examples.

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Listening to the Radio 4 programme Making History I came across the story of the Dockside Dandies, trawlermen in Lowestoft, Suffolk, in the 1960s who for some reason no one can quite fathom developed a localised craze for dressing up in the most exotic and flamboyant way. Artist Peter Wylie has been investigating the phenomenon, and the Lowestoft Journal has more on the story:

"I remember suits of red, bright yellow, lime green, tartan and one lad was said to have had one made out of curtain material (flower patterned). Collars and cuffs were often a different colour to the suit... When you include the trend for wearing earrings - some with miniature anchors or port and starboard lights hanging - you can imagine what a colourful scene when a group of these '48-hour millionaires' got together when they came in from sea."

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Happy gnomes drop sunshine bombs on a village of gloomy Gothic types in this 1935 cartoon from the Van Beuren studios. Rather a strange message it sends out about the victory of aggressive optimism.

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Brompton Cemetery - the most peaceful place in London?

Brian Glover, Emmeline Pankhurst and inventor of self-help Samuel Smiles are buried there, as was Sioux Indian chief Long Wolf, who was involved in the defeat of Custer, until his remains were finally taken home in 1997.

Not to mention many other less famous inhabitants with such splendid names as W. Ornigsby Kettle. Collecting names is a good reason to go looking at graves: I seem to remember all the original EastEnders characters were named from Hackney tombstones, and Beatrix Potter reputedly took the names of her animal characters from those on the gravestones in Brompton - including a Peter Rabbett.

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Back from the South of France, with some new vocab - huîtres, hirondelle, bandes desinées - and some spectacular comic books (aimed at the very small, which suits my level of French reading). Luckily this is France, so even books for the tiny are pretty sophisticated. Fennec, by Yoann, is from the stable of Lewis Trondheim, and is the story of a small desert fox looking for a cave of blood (wait, can that be right?)

Anyway, it looks beautiful.

Gedeon Grand Manitou is by Benjamin Rabier, the creator of La vache qui rit.

The plot looks a little involved, but it's all very charming.

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