Every village has one – and Bramley’s is Dotty Dardak.

Oh! We forgot – it also has By-Pass Byham.bypassbyham1

Every village has one:  the stereotypical silly old bat who never opens their mouth but a stream of utter nonsense pours forth but no one had the heart to stem the flow, they just nod sympathetically and get the hell out of there as fast as they can.

Even Capt’n Bob and his side-kick, Chris Britton, couldn’t get away from her fast enough at the most recent Public Inquiry into Dunsfold Park – and they’re supposed to be on the same side!!!

Poor old Birtley Green’s ‘”Dotty One” is dear Miss Dadak (DD) who fearlessly takes up arms against the Dunsfold Developer at every opportunity. Older readers will recall that DD turned up on the first day of the 2009 Public Inquiry into Dunsfold Park, waving a dead owl which she rashly accused the Dunsfold Developer of killing – Murderer!

Witnesses are still chuckling at the ‘ visibly startled MacAllister –  claiming to be a member of the Hawk & Owl Trust (whoever they might be!) – offering to take the bird off her hands, but Miss (not Ms!) Dadak was having none of it. The Flying Scot was obviously trying to dispose of the evidence and a clearly exasperated Council Official had to step in and offer to turn a Waverley Borough Council freezer into a temporary morgue. At that time, remember, the Dunsfold Developer and Waverley Borough Council were not an item and DD  was content to let the Council take custody of the incriminating evidence.’

What became of the body after that, no one knows, but rumours abound of Pidgeon Pie with chips appearing on ‘YW’s’ canteen menu the week after the Hearing closed!

Not content with accusing the other DD (Dunsfold Developer) of being the scourge of birds, now Dotty D  is accusing him of offering ‘lavish al fresco’ entertaining in front of a small aircraft prepared for take-off whilst, unforgettably a frail, harmless skylark rose from her grassy nest singing her joyous song of fulfilment, unwary of the inevitable fate befalling all wildlife-rural-environments in this horrible, urban, illegal (?) take-over of Waverley Borough Council.’

Now is Miss DD accusing the Dunsfold D of bribing officials with a picnic lunch and a free flight? Or of sucking more birds to their death in his propellers?

What we, at the WW want to know is –  how Miss Dadak inveigled an invitation to a ‘lavish alfresco’ entertainment, when we’ve not even been able to snaffle so much as a cup of instant coffee and a rich tea at the DD’s expense?

The closest we came to an invitation was when we passed one on from the DD, not Miss DD,  to Denise Wordsworth to take afternoon tea at the aerodrome and get the lowdown on his plans for the new village – oops, sorry Miss D, of course, we mean NEW TOWN! Whisper who dares – nobody has told her about the NEW TOWN down the road in Cranleigh!

About the only thing, DD  gets right in her latest Herald-diatribe is her description of Waverley as ‘urban’. Once, Surrey was a lovely rural idyll, where people like George and Mary Watts escaped to live the rural dream but not any more. These days Surrey is essentially one great suburb, its towns belted by ring-roads and submerged by shopping malls. Where the Bramley Babes wear Boden and Jojo Maman Bébé – rather than the bustles and top hats, favoured by DD – and shop in Bargain Booze!

Sorry Miss Dadak, we know you hark after a softer, gentler age when Bramley looked as if it was the role model for the traditional Quality Street Tin and girls in Kate Greenaway costumes wandered along the high street in lawn cotton, shopping at the butchers, the bakers and the candlestick makers but you’ve got to get with the programme … either that or move to Dartmoor, with its Neolithic tombs, Bronze Age stone circles, deep river valleys and rare wildlife. Although whisper it who dares, we hear Costa and Café Nero have, like Napoleon, recently crossed the county line but, fear not, we’re told the Dunsfold Developer too prefers the rugged scenery of his homeland and is more likely to be found grouse shooting in the Highlands than hacking on the moors.

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