The railway carriage in which Edith Cavell’s body was brought back to England, together with the unknown soldier.
At last our MX5 arrived back this morning, and it seems in good nick, though we haven’t driven it anywhere yet. We got a call from the garage just after 8am, and after trying to persuade them to deliver it this afternoon, we settled for as early as possible – around 10am. It eventually arrived at 10.30am, by which time Dot had left for the Archant coffee morning. After signing a few documents and paying some money I followed her up and arrived around 10.50am, to find Maryta and Paul, and Tricia and Brian already there, with the Limmers following soon after. A very large gathering altogether, and we booked for the Christmas lunch in the canteen.
The Hendersons came back for tea/coffee, and on the way home I picked up our new cordless vacuum cleaner from Doddle in the station (a drop-off shop). I am developing a cold-type thing, which is getting irritating – sparked off by dust from the garage clear-out, I think. Got tired out walking home yesterday and had to lie down. Slept for over an hour.
We had been to Jamie’s to meet Audrey and Bent for lunch, which was excellent: steak frites and a blackberry and apply pavlova. Afterwards we said goodbye to Audrey and Bent (who are buying a caravan at Beeston Regis) outside Jarrolds, paid in some cheques, visited the Forum for an architecture exhibition in which Roger’s redesign of Jessie’s bathroom features, popped in to a mini-display about Edith Cavell in a railway carriage parked outside, bought some birthday cards in Jarrolds and walked home.
Not much happened earlier in the week except for the garage clear-out, which was pretty tiring and is not yet finished. I have had some interest on freecycle for old tapes and German books, but nothing definite yet. Still, we’ve thrown away a lot of paper and have plans for disposing of more stuff. But the weather today and yesterday has not been inspiring, with much drizzle and gloom.
I preached on Sunday morning and got good reviews, and on Saturday Dot watched Norwich lose 2-1 to Leicester, thanks to more bad refereeing. The England rugby team also knocked themselves out of the world cup in a predictable kind of way.
Not much movement this week, except for Dot, who drove to Northampton and back for p4c on Sunday and Monday. To be accurate she stayed in Market Harborough at a friend of Barbara’s on the Sunday. Her journey both ways was very slow, but on the plus side Barbara didn’t have food poisoning as she did in Wimbledon.
Before Dot left we had lunch with the Knox-Whittets at Heydon: a lovely meal of leak and chicken pie (among other things). There was some discussion about the next Chronicle episode, and we agreed a date to meet after I’ve sorted out the narrative a bit more more. I’ve spent most of the week getting round to it, but have been pre-empted by filing an income tax return; writing an unexpected article for Parish Pump on Prisons Week and a sermon for Sunday; visiting Bracon Ash to photograph the church and grave for Keith and Mary Chapman at Kingston; and two visits to the cinema.
After Dot left, the remaining five of us (James and Ann; Rob and Penny; and me) went for a walk into the estate. The sun was beautiful and although we walked only a short distance, we got a close-up of some cattle and the big house, and good views of two herons and a barn owl.
Everest was a good film, which we saw in iMax for £28.50. Dot had to rush out as the film was starting when we discovered that our 3D glasses were not the same as iMax ones. Really! Anyway the effects were very good indeed, though it was predictably hard to tell who was who once they had their mountain gear on, especially when the weather turned bad. Felt sorry for the climb leader, who (SPOILER ALERT) would have survived if he hadn’t been surrounded by idiots.
Two days later we were back in the cinema for an 11am Silver Cinema showing of Spooks: the Greater Good. This cost us £6, with a cup of tea thrown in. Well, not exactly thrown. It would be hard to recommend this film too highly. It was brilliant in every way if you like spy stories. No spoiler alert this time.
Today I went to the chemist to pick up some pills and discovered that the owner, a really nice guy called David Hamblin, had decided to retire, and it was his last day. We’ve always got on really well, and we swapped e-mail addresses. He lives in Claxton. Back at home Dot painted part of the wall by the stairs, and then we had our hair cut. This was followed swiftly by her exit to Little Plumstead for a governors’ meeting, which means we’re having a late supper. Probably very late, as there were about 30 items on the agenda. Ridiculous? Indeed.
There was a super-moon on Sunday night, but I missed it. I woke up at 1.30am and it was behind the trees. I nearly got up and went out, but didn’t. I woke up at 4.30am and it was in the sky but behind clouds, and when it poked through it was neither very big nor orange. Nor eclipsed. Dot didn’t see it either. She had forgotten about it.
Nearing Wells beach. East Hills in the background.
Norwich City have just gone 1-0 up against West Ham and then been pegged back to 1-1. It’s half time. Dot has just finished doing some sorting in the garage, I’ve pruned the roses in the front and we’ve both been into the city to purchase a white board that will stick on the wall (for p4c). On the way we met Mairead, who was about to go to London for an overnight celebration of Freddie’s 13th birthday, and Martin and Lena, who are about to go to Thailand on holiday following the death of Lena’s mother in St Petersburg.
Death is in the air: June Wallace has died, and we will be heading to Ipswich for her funeral on Wednesday. Ethel’s funeral last Wednesday went off very well. It was sunny, and the little church at Bracon Ash looked beautiful. The vicar was excellent, and I read a poem written by Dot’s mum. David came up from Caddington and was able to stay for the reception at Park Farm Hotel in Hethersett. The Hendersons also came but left Park Farm before the food after they realised there were plenty of people there (Angela had worried there would be too few). Spoke to most people, especially Donna and Andy and Ian and Tina Limmer.
Not many more people turned up the following day for the Archant summer tea party at Dunston Hall: probably about 50, against more than 100 for the average Christmas dinner (now discontinued). The food was nice, and I sat at a round table that included Julie Bedson, Frances Pearce, three printers and the new CEO, Jeff Henry, a Scot who is very easy to talk to. Frances Dyer and Ann Gilliam (formerly Walsh) were at the next table with Terry Reeve, but that about made up the total of those I knew well enough to talk to. No EDP subs at all.
Lot of eating this week: Cake and Compline on Monday at Claire Carrington’s, and cake and fish and chips for Dot and me at Wells yesterday. The cake followed our purchase of a Godfrey Sayers painting at the quayside gallery, and the fish and chips (shared) followed a subsequent walk from the town to the beach. The tide was very high, and the sea was calm. Bubbles of gas or air were rising to the surface by the boardwalk on the main beach, and we watched the sun glinting off fishing vessels returning to harbour. Pretty idyllic really. (Final score 2-2.)
Lots of rain last week, but the weekend turned nice, which was just as well, because we were fitting a lot in.
The Stedmans were coming to stay for a couple of nights so that Michael could officiate at a wedding at Bergh Apton. Dot had arranged for the Robinsons to join us for roast chicken on the Friday evening, but this was thrown out slightly when Mick rang to say Gill was extremely tired and was missing the wedding rehearsal. So the meal was for five instead of six, but nonetheless enjoyable.
Mick stayed the night and left after breakfast on Saturday to fetch Gill. We discovered at the last minute that they were not coming back for lunch but going straight to the wedding; so we were able to go down to Caddington earlier than planned to give Oliver his birthday presents. We got there shortly after 12 (diverted because of Duxford Air Show) and had lunch with the family plus Philip and Jane and their children. Lydia is now 14 and Alistair 10. When we arrived (and before the Coomes’ arrival) Oliver impressed us by doing some pretty thorough house cleaning. Not bad for a 13-year-old.
The children spent much of the time on computer games, but during the afternoon we all went over to the nearby field and had a good time playing first football and then basketball on the hard court there. I surprised myself by doing quite well and scoring a few goals: no doubt the pitch was just small enough for me to cope. Not so good at basketball, though I eventually managed to get one in the basket (after the game had finished).
We stayed for an evening meal but had to leave straight afterwards. The journey home was easy, and we arrived, strangely, at exactly the same time as the Stedmans; so they didn’t have to use their borrowed key. It was lovely to be able to fit in the Caddington trip.
We didn’t see an awful lot of Gill, because we all had a fairly early night. After breakfast yesterday Dot and I left for church about 10.15 (I was leading the service), leaving the Stedmans to lock up the house and leave not long afterwards. They are both (I think) over 80 and need to take their time over things: Gill was very worried about packing for a forthcoming cruise.
After church and an inspiring sermon from Howard, Dot decided to invite Phyllis Seaman to lunch, and she was able to accept. This went very well; she seemed quite perky. This was our weekend for entertaining people in their 80s, but afterwards we were entertained ourselves by the Hendersons: we had tea, wine and cake while listening to Norwich draw 1-1 at Anfield. I say listening: the radio was on. As a result, the Hendersons are coming to Ethel’s funeral. I’m not sure why.
Late in the day on the footbridge over the railway near Thorpe marshes.
On Thursday Dot and I drove out to Hempton, near Fakenham, where Caroline Gilfillan was launching her new book, Poet in Boots, at the Bell. This was, I thought, a pleasant country pub, but Dot was not too impressed. I was able to have a beer and go to the loo without any trouble: what more could one want?
The launch consisted of a few poems read by Caroline and some songs from her friends, one or two of which were very good. All round it was a very good evening, though we only really knew Caroline.
The next day was Oliver’s birthday, and we sent him messages, hoping that he got his card. We will be taking his presents at the end of this week. At the end of the day it was warm and sunny; so we went for a walk on Thorpe marshes, which was marred only by flying insects, one of which bit Dot on her eye, which gave her a bit of trouble for a couple of days. Otherwise it was an idyllic evening, with a couple of herons and calm water, and a grebe in the distance.
On Saturday we went to the Hendersons’ for an evening meal after getting rid of stuff from the garage. We expected it to be just the four of us, but their neighbours from Lime Tree Road were there as well. Nice food, pleasant company. Sunday was rainy. After church, where we played the music in the absence of Phil, I did some church sitting for the Heritage Day while Dot went home to practise her violin, her time being cut short a bit by her neglecting to take the door key. As I had started the day by forgetting the church hall key, this rounded things off nicely. (All because we were using the courtesy car.) The church hall water leak problem is ongoing, but now there is a lighting problem. The vicar has apparently decided to leave everything practical in Howard’s hands, which is all very nice, but Howard has a job, a wife, two daughters and a grandchild.
After church Dot and I went to see Jessie, which was lovely as always.
Monday saw us heading for Wimbledon in rainy weather that turned quite chilly later. We stopped for refreshments at the Services on the M11, because I was feeling pretty tired, but then continued without incident across the Dartford bridge (which reminds me, I have to pay for the crossing – pause – done) and along the southern section of the M25 before following the satnav directions in towards Raynes Park, where we parked in Waitrose’s car park next to the station.
I was driving Dot down because of anticipated difficulty in finding the place, and was then due to get the train back while she met up with Barbara. This actually happened, but we had loads of time to spare; so we went into Starbuck’s for a snack and then wandered round a bit in the rain. Eventually I got an earlier train than intended and then a tube from Waterloo to Stratford, which turned out to be a bleaker station than I expected. So I persuaded a ticket lady to let me out and use the toilets in the Westfield centre, and then let me back in again. I then walked up and down the platform – it was getting pretty chilly – until the train arrived. I had a specified seat in first class, which turned out to be not available, but there were loads of others and I got a better one (single, with table).
Today was much better after a rainy start, and I went into the city to pay in some cheques, including one for me (from the PHS) that I’d found in my jacket pocket. Ran into some people looking for Dragon Hall in the wrong place, and then spoke to Ed Read, who told me he and Jenny were going to try and adopt. Made myself hot lunch with leftover toad in the hole and – to be honest – rather wasted the afternoon, listening to YouTube songs and eventually getting round to finishing this, just as I see Dot is about to arrive.
My form photo, probably from 1960-61, recently unearthed. The form teacher is Neddy Carter, and I can remember almost all the boys’ names. I am standing almost on my own, on the left.
We haven’t quite lost summer yet: today is warmish and Dot has gone for a walk in the city. While there she bought a lot of printer paper, and I went up in the car to pick it up. Earlier this morning, the MX5 was at last taken away to be repaired, and we have a Nissan Micra in the drive. Surprisingly, the man who fetched the MX5 drove it away. I warned him the front had fallen off once, and the back tyre was losing air, but he didn’t seem worried. Not after I gave him a cup of tea, anyway.
Yesterday I spent mainly getting to Coventry and back, with a brief break around 4.40pm when I spoke to Andrew in hospital for about 40 minutes, and had a chat with the senior nurse. Andrew doesn’t seem too bad. He has a large bear. I went to Coventry by rail, starting at 12.30 and transferring to Euston by tube before a one-hour journey to Coventry. From there it was about a half-hour bus trip to the hospital. On the way back I got an earlier and faster train than I had expected, but unfortunately it was delayed because of a signalling problem between Rugby and Milton Keynes. Still, I got home about 10.45pm and finished one of my birthday books, Ancillary Justice by Ann Leckie. Good prize-winning SF with some very original ideas.
On Tuesday I had expected a quiet day but Philip Robinson was very anxious to get on Facebook so that he could contact (or be contacted by) someone he met on holiday. So I spent a couple of hours fixing him up with a Facebook account and a couple of friends. He found the guy he was looking for, and we sent him a Friend Request.
The excitement on Monday centred on the DCC meeting. I spent much of the day writing a Finance Report and sorting out a few other details. The meeting was at Howard’s and so featured much wine and nibbles, which I’m not sure the vicar was expecting. As it turned out, the meeting was the longest I’ve ever experienced, finishing at 10.10, when Judy gave us a lift home (we’d walked there). No doubt things will quieten down, but I guess this is the sort of thing that happens when the vicar is single and has too much spare time.
The drama about the water leak continues, with Stuart complaining about more or less everything but at least arranging for progress to made. He’s had Colin digging up the neighbour’s garden and searching for absent stopcocks, and is now complaining about the insurance policy, which looks fine to me. I think he’d really like the church to be liable to pay huge amounts of money…
As I mentioned last time, I went to the Seagull last Sunday on my own, as Dot was not feeling too well and Phil was under a lot of pressure from various sources (though not Anglian Water or Stuart). I read half a dozen poems which seemed to be well received. Well, no-one threw anything.
Forget what I’ve said about busy weeks in the past. This week just never stopped. On Tuesday Dot was in Liverpool, philosophising very successfully. In the morning I went to the Archant coffee morning and exchanged photos with Brian and Robin. Meanwhile the Hendersons borrowed out permit while they went to Buckingham Palace (on a tour). In the afternoon I was up in the Forum with Rob, Peter, and Karen, discussing the bid for our forthcoming project and becoming more and more doubtful that we would be able to complete the work in time. Afterwards I stayed in the city (bought birthday card and book for Oliver) until the launch of a book at Mandells Gallery: Searle on Norfolk School etchings, published by Susan Currran’s company.
Earlier in the day I had almost sorted out the saga of the MX5, and the photographer came and took pictures at 7pm. The next morning I rang the insurance company to find they had at last done something quickly and had looked at the pictures and agreed the car was repairable. However their nearest approved repairer was in Halesworth (unbelievable). I agreed to go along with this: said repairer was due to ring me back, but instead they rang Dot’s mobile (unbelievable). She was at Aldborough, delivering more philosophy, but managed to give me their number. I rang back and we fixed a time for them to pick the car up: Thursday the 10th!! (unbelievable) It’s a good job we have another car.
When the man from British Gas came to overhaul our system the following day, he pointed out that one of the tyres on the MX5 was flat! This was a new tyre, and it couldn’t have been affected by the accident. So another problem to sort out. On the plus side, he seems to have done a very good job on the radiators, though there is weird trickling sound…
While he was working Liz Day came round for a cup of tea and in-depth discussion. All discussions with Liz are in depth. Later Dot went to the funeral directors with Rodney and Angel and took a couple of hours to sort out details of the funeral, before returning home just in time for Linda to cut our hair. Later we went to Morrisons to stock up on food for two lots of visitors.
On Friday I delivered the Paston magazines to Rob’s at North Walsham and then picked up Dot’s pills from the chemist. In the afternoon I called to see poet Joy and her husband Andy, where I had a cup of tea and pleasant talk. Before I left Nick from the printer happened to call round and I was able to tell him how everyone at Paston had admired the mags. At some time that day I believe I had a longish talk with a lady at Coventry about Andrew, during which I agreed to represent him in any discussion about what was best for him.
In the evening our neighbours Bob and Mary and Des and Chris came round for drinks and nibbles, and we demolished four bottles of red wine between us, though I feel that neither Dot nor I had a sixth of the total. Pleasant evening, ending at 11.40, when Des and Chris went home.
Yesterday, with the weather pretty chilly (as it is today) Heather and Simon came for lunch, but not before I had walked to Morrisons and got some last-minute food. Had a really nice time with them, and we ended by walking up with them to the Jeff Koons exhibition at the Castle, which ends today. On the whole, it was better than I thought it would be. Later Anne called round for tea and talk.
Today started with my leading the service, preaching and writing the prayers for Dot, who is feeling a bit under the weather. Afterwards she drove home while I went to a PV at Mandells Gallery by Kate Coleman and chatted with Martin Laurance (and Kate). To be honest, I’m not feeling 100% either, but thought I’d go to the Seagull tonight to round the week off! Dot is staying at home.
Very, very wet today. Drove Dot down to the Scole Inn for 10.30, where she met Barbara, and they proceeded in Barbara’s car to St Helen’s for a P4C session tomorrow. Made good time despite the weather.
Yesterday was exciting: I went to church in the morning while Dot cooked a roast chicken lunch for David and the children, who arrived separately. David drove up from Caddington, but the children had spent the night at the Wensum Valley Hotel, following a wedding at Reepham the day before (Kerry from Bury), involving a train and a drone taking pictures. Vicky dropped them off and picked them up again at 3pm after lunch and a quick game of Dixit, which they had bought me for my birthday.
David also bought me three books and a protective screen for my iPhone. Amy and Oliver also brought me some biscuits from France.
After the children had gone David went through loads of stuff in the garage and loft with us, looking for stuff he wanted us to keep, and stuff we could get rid of. The latter was in the majority. He left quite late.
Dot’s Aunt Ethel has died. It was quite sudden in the end. Angela rang during lunch yesterday to say she was not well, and when she spoke to Dot later, it was all over. No doubt there will be chaos over the will: no-one knows if she made one or, if she did, where it might be.
A warm and dry day at the moment, though we’ve had plenty of rain in the last few days. The worst was on Wednesday, when Dot went down to see Barbara in her newly re-tyred car. Unfortunately, when she backed out from the parking space at Metfield she collided with a metal plate on the fence which managed to drag out the front of the car and deposit it on the ground. We then managed to do all the wrong things in the wrong order, with the result that the car is now in our drive awaiting a visit from someone representing the underwriters, who is resolutely failing to give us a time of arrival.
First Dot rang Green Flag, who came and fixed up the car so that it could be driven home. Unfortunately the GF man also suggested she ring the insurance company, and while she was doing this it got extremely complicated. She didn’t want to take pictures, because it now didn’t look bad, and she forgot to mention that the GF man had come. To cut a long story short, the insurance company sent a very nice man from down the road who transported the car to our driveway.
Meanwhile I had driven down to Metfield and back for no good reason (I thought the car might be taken to a local garage, which would have left Dot stranded). Because we were then away for two days, the underwriters’ man couldn’t contact us (despite Dot saying specifically that he should ring her mobile number) and he is still proving reluctant to actually speak to us. No doubt he fancies a long weekend away.
All very annoying. At least most of the rain happened while Dot was in the house.
On Thursday we headed for Leyton and a couple of days with the Coomes. We were delayed slightly because Dot had left her computer charger cable and plug at Barbara’s, and Barbara had hung it in a bag on her door for us to pick up. This added both time and distance to our journey, and the bit on the A140 was particularly slow: I always hated that road, and it has, unbelievably, got worse. The rest of the journey down the A12 wasn’t too bad, fortunately, and we arrived at Leyton around 1.15pm.
After a leisurely lunch we decided it was too late to go anywhere before the journey to Bond Street for our evening meal at a Lebanese restaurant called Fairuz. The tube was packed (Coomes said this was strange for a Sunday: I’m worried about him), and it started to rain as we emerged – fortunately only lightly. The meal was excellent, as was the wine. By the time we got home I could hardly keep my eyes open.
Yesterday it was dry and we went to William Morris’s house in Walthamstow. I drove, which was more of a challenge that I thought it would be. London is thick with buses, and there are so many markings and signs that it is hard to keep a lookout for pedestrians. But we eventually made it, and Dot spotted a car park. The house is beautifully organised as a museum, with interesting displays, and it’s not too big. We ended with a cup of tea in the cafe, during which I got a phone call from Minster Lodge to say that Andrew had been taken into hospital again after behaving bizarrely.
I rang the hospital today and even spoke to Andrew, who didn’t seem too bad at first but then became rather agitated. The nurse said he had seen Andrew like this before. Haven’t we all?
Two other noteworthy events last week. On Monday I lost a chess game to John Allison in the Dons knockout competition. I got a very good game and with one move I could have had a winning position. Unfortunately I didn’t see it, and it’s particularly annoying because it’s a move I could have seen and would have seen in the past. It reinforces my decision not to keep playing (except in exceptional circumstances).
Much more noteworthy on Tuesday was our neighbour Simon’s funeral at the RC Cathedral. Dot and I walked up there and met Bridget on the way. She was worried because she has a problem with her stomach and is awaiting tests. The funeral itself was packed and moving: it was led by a family friend, who is a deacon at the Cathedral. Bob and Mary were there, but Mary was too emotional to talk afterwards.
We didn’t go to the cremation, but we did pop in to the Coach and Horses for the Reception, where we talked to Mairead’s friend Rachel (daughter of the deacon), and to Rachel’s mother, who is really nice. Also had a brief chat to Simone, who is Bronwen’s friend – bit of a coincidence – and said Bronwen was still in Norwich. Rather worrying.
Jon Welch, someone else I should probably know, Shaun Lowthorpe and Helen Ashworth
Very warm couple of days this weekend, dissolving into heavy rain around teatime today. Dot has just gone out to the Greens’ for a “girls’ night out” involving Vicky and Ruth, and I stayed in to play host to Maryta, Paul and Holly and their stem ginger cake. We went round the Hendersons’ last night for a meal, and Holly was supposed to be there for that, but she had a stomach problem and didn’t arrive till today: glad I was able to see her.
Earlier yesterday there was an unusual event at the home of Pat and Lesley Prekopp at Burgh, near Aylsham. Paul Durrant, former EDP news editor, has been diagnosed with cancer (oesophagus, I think) and has only a few months to live; so they arranged for him to be at this party and for as many of his old colleagues as possible to come and see him. He was quite gaunt but in reasonably good spirits, though obviously emotional, and he gave a good speech. I spoke to him as Maryta and I left and I said it had been a real pleasure. It was clear that he had tears in his eyes, which may seem an obvious thing to say, but I found it moving.
Paul ‘Duzza’ Durrant, legend of the newsroom
I took Maryta; Brian had been intending to come but was too ill, and Robin had a previous engagement. The setting was beautiful and the weather extremely warm; the food was good too. Met a number of former colleagues/friends: Tony Wenham, Ian Clarke, Trevor Burton, Emma Lee, Annette Hudson, Sarah Hardy, Stacia Briggs, Helen Ashworth, Louisa Griffith-Jones, Ian Bullock, Bill Woodcock, Sarah Brealey, James Goffin, Pete Kelley, Jon Welch, Rachel Moore, Mike Pollitt, Denise Bradley, Alison Croose, Andrew Stronach, Shaun Lowthorpe, Mark Harrop and others too numerous to mention or who I’ve forgotten. Left after 2½ hours but would probably have stayed longer if I’d been alone: Maryta, of course, knew far fewer people than I did. Apparently when Duzza left he got a round of applause.
Even earlier yesterday Colin and his youngest son Jordan came and cut our hedge, which gave us more light into the kitchen and garden, as well as a rather smug feeling, which dissipated when he pointed out that Dot’s car had a flat tyre. However, I’ve pumped it up and it seems to be staying up – at the moment.
On Friday we had a surprise when Bronwen Edwards of InPrint fame came round out of the blue and stayed for a drink. She was staying in a hotel on Prince of Wales Road. Hope to see her again.
Thursday saw us on the Broads in the afternoon. We hired a day boat for a couple of hours with Fred and Sue and sailed down to Salhouse Broad. We had a cup of tea while we waited and a meal in the Hotel Wrexham when we returned – fish and chips for Dot and me. A really pleasant afternoon which made us wonder why we don’t do it more often.
