A stroll though central Croydon the other day, before the grim winter weather set in, on my way for lunch at Cockneys of Croydon (an oxymoron which always sits slightly uncomfortably with me, though the pie, eels and mash are always excellent).

Noticed that the Croydon Sadvertiser, despite its new editor, still has not quite got the hang of this sales poster business.

“Hungry fox steals juicy steaks” is the latest sad example. Has no one in the Sadvertiser office heard the hoary old journalism axiom that “‘Man bites dog’ is news; ‘dog bites man’ is not news”?

A fox nicking some meat is right up there as a non-story with “bear shits in the woods”. And someone at the Sadvertiser thinks that seeing that sales bill will persuade anyone to buy the paper??

Anyway, as I continued my pre-lunch stroll, one thing which is noticeable in central Croydon and which is deserving of praise to the council is the placing of giant red poppies along the High Street.

The poppies are even positioned outside Tiger Tiger, the bar which once sought to ban service personnel, veterans of Iraq and Afghanistan, from entry after they had been on a memorial march through the centre of town.

This week, Croydon, wear you poppy with pride.