Dot with Norwich City stars Nathan Redmond and Paul McVeigh
More storms across the country, but not too bad in Norfolk. David and the children have been here since Sunday afternoon, and we have been busy preparing for Christmas. After Dot and I had our hair cut, we stayed in most of yesterday because of rain and wind, though I slipped out to Carrow Road to upgrade one of the Boxing Day match tickets from senior to adult. David has broken/injured his toe, and much of his foot is bruised, so he finds it hard to walk far.
Nevertheless we all went up into the city today (when it was much sunnier, though still a bit windy) by bus, and got some clothes for Oliver and a few other things. To save David’s foot I walked over to the Castle Mall to renew his car tax, and then we had a hot drink in the M&S Cafe before visiting Hotel Chocolat. From there four of us returned home, leaving David in the city to get one or two other things.
He arrived home just after Roger called and left; then Dot went out to see Auntie Ethel. On her return, having cleaned the car, she remained at home with the others while I called in at Phil and Joy’s. They seemed in much better spirits. It seems Lucy is quite a lot better and at home. The baby is OK too, give or take some colic and constipation.
Later, while the salmon was cooking, I organised a quiz which Oliver won. The scoring was a little esoteric.
Bit of a panic in the rain at Waitrose on Saturday evening when we attempted to pick up the turkey we thought we’d ordered. In fact it turned out that we hadn’t; so we bought one off the shelf, and bought quite a lot of other stuff too.
On Sunday the alternative carol service featured a bit of dialogue between Dot and me, plus four of my poems, as well as the usual readings and carols followed by Communion. The Christmas meal that followed was decidedly better than the one at the Archant pensioners’ lunch in the Holiday Inn.
Tonight Dot and I will go to Midnight Communion, and I will put notices on the gates and lock them afterwards. The children have been discussing how early they will be allowed to get up tomorrow. Dot and I have been discussing how long we’ll stay in bed.
After the storm surge, we drove out to the coast last Thursday to survey the damage. We started at Hemsby, where I spent many a week in my youth, wandering the valley between the dunes and playing cricket in the rare smooth bit. Idyllic times. The valley is still there, though we usually approach it from the Winterton end, but the dunes on the seaward side have been eaten away by the sea and are much lower.
In the recent surge the damage was done south of the Gap, where we rarely ventured when I was young. I got some quite dramatic pictures of semi-demolished houses (one with a washing machine hanging on by its power cord). We then moved on to Happisburgh, where only one house now remains in the road to nowhere: a lot of land lost along the cliffs to the south. Then Walcott, where the road was opened. The sea wall was OK, but there was quite bit of damage to properties across the road. We had fish and chips at Bacton and drove home.
Bedroom with sea view
On the way home the car started making a strange rattling noise underneath. So the next day, on the way to the Archant pensioners’ Christmas dinner, I called in at the garage – and while I was eating my meal and chatting to former colleagues, they fixed it. The protective shield under the engine had come loose. The meal was average, but it was nice to see the colleagues. It was raining.
Preached on Sunday on John the Baptist and spent much of the weekend writing cards, with very little walking. However I have made up for it since, having achieved nearly 15 miles since Monday. This included much shopping, but also a walk up to the vicarage to pick up an urgent cheque that had to be paid into the bank.
Dot had a blood test early on Monday, and had to avoid alcohol over the weekend, which was of course quite difficult. We await the results. On the ending I made a rare visit to the chess club, where I took part in the Bob Royall Christmas event, which featured such rare variations as extermination chess, Fischer random, diagonal pawns and team chess. Despite being handed a defeat in round one, where we had to move to a new board halfway through, and the board I moved to was completely lost, I managed to finish equal third out of 12. I was particularly pleased because I found some key moves in the team chess and set up wins.
However, I was very tired afterwards, and found it hard to sleep. That was the main reason I stopped playing regularly, so it wasn’t too encouraging. Good evening, though.
A full attendance at the Tuesday Group on Tuesday, for which I cooked chilli con quorn, a well known Christmas dish. Judy brought some stolen; so all was not lost.
Yesterday Dot forgot to look in her diary and arrived at Barbara’s around 11am, or roughly two hours too early. Meanwhile I was delivering cards and buying more presents. Dot got back in time to take the bus up to Chapelfield and queue to obtain certain footballers’ autograph on a ball. Took Dot’s picture with said footballers.
After this we hastened home to get ready for the Sillars Orchestra Christmas outing at Merge, a Malaysian restaurant at the junction of Dereham Road and Grapes Hill. Quite a pleasant evening, though Dot was much keener on the food than I was. I had a chat with the conductor and others, and afterwards we were invited for coffee by Neville and Mary (Clarinet) Thrower. I was in the same class as Neville at school, though he wasn’t Neville then of course: he was Thrower, or occasionally Chucker.
The storm surge hit the east coast on the evening of December 5. It was the biggest surge since 1953, and there was a huge threat to property and to people’s lives. If you had switched on the BBC’s News at Ten, you would have been able to see exactly what was happening … No, wait, you wouldn’t have seen anything at all about it, because Nelson Mandela died at exactly the same time.
I have already written a piece on my website about what a shocking mismanagement of news this was, but the former news editor of the EDP tells me I’m wrong. I now see that it was exactly the right decision for news editors, but exactly wrong for viewers.
Anyway, as I write I believe the coast road at Walcott is still closed, and many homes along the coast have been flooded or destroyed. Homes have fallen off the dunes at Hemsby, where I spent my holidays as a child, when the sea never came anywhere near the dunes. The tidal Wensum flooded a bit at Norwich, but not much. Haddiscoe, way inland, was cut off.
None of this affected me much. On the Friday night Dot and I were at Open Studios in Norwich, where we bought a picture from Martin Laurance and some art boxes from Rupert Mallin. On the Saturday we were at Bacton Village Hall, just along the road from devastated Walcott. We had been diverted through Knapton by police, but this was because someone had turned a car over on the Bacton road from North Walsham. Quite an achievement.
The village hall event was a celebration of the Paston Heritage Society’s year – a very eventful one, culminating in the big exhibition at the Norfolk Record Office. Excellent refreshments and a slice of video from Peter Stibbons: a fun evening. Today Dot and I went to the last of the eight lectures: Rob Knee on the Paston Legacy. I read one of my poems in the middle of it, which was pleasing – for me, anyway.
It was my second performance in three days: on Sunday the band (Far Cry) travelled to Lowestoft to perform at the Seagull. Rob was there too, reading his winning poem in a recent competition. We did three songs – The Rolling Hills of Pakefield; Man in the Mask; and Falling Apart – as a foursome, with me on vocals and guitar, Phil on the other guitar and Dot and Emily (Phil’s daughter) on violin. As Emily had not rehearsed with us, she did well to even think about it. I think we sounded OK, but they’re a nice crowd who wouldn’t tell us if we hadn’t. We got some good applause, anyway.
Sunset glow on a ploughed field at Rockland
Since the storm the weather has been calm but pretty chilly. On Monday Dot and I visited Geoff , who continues to recover well. He has walked to the village shop and been driven to a couple of events. He can walk around the house (slowly) without a stick. We had quite a long chat with him while Sophie was out, and I collected some antibiotics for him (for his toes) from the village surgery.
In the evening we went to the DCC, which proved quite short as there were several absences and Howard was there only briefly as someone who he hadn’t seen for a while had turned up unexpectedly. We discussed how to split the parish share and decided on 77-23 (it was 80-20). If I was treasurer, I would worry about this. Oh, I am.
On Tuesday, before being entertained by the Archers for Tuesday Group, I went to Fakenham for a Chronicle meeting. Sadly, Kay was absent as she had had a lot of trouble looking after her father-in-law, who broke his hip in Barcelona and had to be taken back to the Isle of Man. What are the chances of that happening? Anyway the three of us had soup and cheese and discussed our Oxnead project. Rob had written seven poems already; I had written one; and Caroline had written a half. Much to do. We are aiming at a book and premiere (possibly at Oxnead) in September.
Back in Norwich I got my new non-varifocal glasses from Boots and was relieved to find I could see through them (they’re for computer and music, but wearable most of the time if I want to). A much better solution.
Meanwhile Phil and Joy are still in Southampton, and Lucy is slightly improved, though I have heard nothing directly. My cousin Sandy in South Africa has lost her husband Alex, who was very generous to us while we were out there. He died of liver cancer, quite suddenly.
Joe has had a full page in the EDP on his photography, and he and Birgit are going to Germany for Christmas. I have written a few cards, and Dot has bought lots of presents.
Part of Amy’s Christmas decorations, featuring Frosty and a bear
Time is passing frighteningly quickly. Either that, or I’m moving frighteningly slowly. I spend too much time sorting out difficulties, usually computer-related, and being distracted – also computer-related. However, today I have managed to send out the invoices for use of the hall and have created a leaflet for use in the alternative carol service. The latter shows once again that my printer is not working properly, and several attempts to clean it have not helped. I may have to get a new one. Or use Dot’s.
A storm is brewing, with high winds already here and the promise of a storm surge bringing flooding on the coast comparable to that of 1953. You always think it’s not going to happen, but they probably thought that about Lyonesse. Well, actually they probably didn’t think about it at all.
Happily we travelled to Caddington yesterday and not today. The occasion was Amy’s participation in the Beechwood concert for senior citizens (that’s us). She played her cello and also sang with a choir. Afterwards Dot and I gorged ourselves on sandwiches and mince pies with cups of tea. We then took Amy home, and I returned with David for Oliver, meeting Natalie and Emma. We stayed for an hour or so, then had to hurtle off (much to Amy’s disgust) to get Dot to an orchestra rehearsal. We were a bit late.
On Tuesday Dot and I had a scone and drink in John Lewis’ cafe before meeting Judy outside and walking down with her to the NRO, where Lucy was defying illness and injury to give a very good talk on John Fenn – the penultimate lunchtime lecture of the Paston exhibition. Rob and Penny were there, as was Diana as Lucy’s chauffeur. Afterwards we walked home and bumped into Lena outside Morrisons.
On Sunday I preached on optimism, and in the afternoon we drove to North Walsham, the cemetery and Jessie (not simultaneously). She was a bit below par because Ray’s funeral was the following day.
Meanwhile Phil and Joy have rushed down to Southampton because Lucy has had a problem following the birth of Elliott and is having treatment. An anxious time for all of them. The baby seems to be fine, though.
The sigmoidoscopy went well, apart from the hanging about. I was offered the choice of sedation or gas and air and selected the latter with some trepidation. It had served me well when I was in a lot of pain before my emergency operation. As it happened, though, I didn’t need it. The procedure, by a woman doctor, went without any pain, though some discomfort. My nurse, Katie, was lovely – very friendly, relaxed and very good at distracting me with questions about what I did in my spare time. I had a mug of black tea and some bourbons afterwards, and felt fine.
I have to admit the preparations were not something I’d want to do every day. It seemed to go all right, and I was just near enough the loo. There wasn’t the anxiety about getting to the hospital without wanting to go again, though I was nervous. Dot said I looked terrible, but that’s probably normal.
Afterwards we were both very tired and watched quite a bit of TV before going to bed relatively early. Today I went for a walk of just over two miles as well as writing up the PHS minutes, writing several letters and e-mails and selecting pictures for a book on Scotland. And so ends November. We are waiting for the Robinsons, with whom we are having a meal at Prezzo.
Oh, I should have mentioned, the sigmoidoscopy showed nothing abnormal. Apparently I need to drink more water, though.
Here I am waiting to have a sigmoidoscopy. It doesn’t happen till early this afternoon, but already my stomach is churning (actually it’s being doing it for days). Not sure if it’s foreboding or an actual stomach upset. The operation is minor, of course, but it’s the bit before and after I’m not keen on. I’ll keep you posted if I survive.
Dot is out visiting a school but will be back to accompany me to the hospital, in case I need sedation, which I am much in favour of. I am totally against unnecessary pain, and I’m not all that much in favour of necessary pain.
Happily our heating is back on. The boiler fan broke on Tuesday, leaving us with an electrically powered group meal in the evening. Quite cosy in fact, but the rest of the house was decidedly chilly. The gas man turned up the next day at 10am, at precisely the same time as our hairdresser, who had been rescheduled from Monday. He took some time to work out the problem, but then happily was able to fix it.
Meanwhile Dot was rather nervously having her hair cut short: it looks good. Mine is pretty short too, but it pales into insignificance beside Dot’s. Hair and boiler were both sorted in time for Dot and I to drive to the NRO to hear Anna’s “Paston Treasure” talk, which as very good. Judy was also there and so, surprisingly, was Lucy, rising from her sickbed and driven by Diana.
In the evening, while Dot was at orchestra, I walked up to the Maddermarket and got a ticket to see The Seagull, in which two of my former colleagues at ECN were performing. The theatre was sparsely populated, but the acting was good, though I think the guy who shot himself at the end (spoiler alert) should have done it much earlier. Trevor Burton was excellent, as was David Newham. The older woman/famous actress didn’t help the plot by being clearly more attractive than the young Nina who was supposed to be luring Trevor away from her.
I nearly missed the opportunity of seeing the play because I was unexpectedly asked to play chess for the A team in the evening, but this proved to be a false alarm: one of the regular players recovered from a bad back and beat the Norfolk champion. So that was all good.
Yesterday I called on the parish treasurer, Susannah, who lives in a house overlooking Carey’s Meadow in Thorpe. A totally stunning view. We had a conversation about splitting the parish share, which we agreed should be 70-30. I have no idea whether this is right or not. I suspect not. (Definitely not. – Ed. mf)
Later, while Dot was shopping after lunch with Sue Eagle and friends, I drove to Paston for a meeting of the trustees. A painfully slow process – and that was just getting there. The meeting itself was OK, though I was surprised to hear that Lucy was disputing the bill from the UEA, although she’d told me she was paying it. I am having nothing more to do with it.
Dot, Julia and Dave getting properly shod in Trowse for our walk to Whitlingham
A very full week, starting last Tuesday with another visit to the Norfolk Record Office to hear the latest talk, The Fall of the House of Paston: a fine title and a brilliant lecture to a standing-room-only audience. I bought the book by the speaker (Jean Agnew) and walked home with Rob Knee.
Dave and Julia arrived around lunchtime the next day, and in the afternoon we took them to the Masterpieces exhibition, where Dot and I saw the bits we missed at the weekend, including the Rennie Mackintosh pictures and the Lotus F1 car in the restaurant. We got the X25 bus home (express route via Newmarket Road), and Dot cooked a brace of rather nice pheasant in the evening.
Our compulsory walk the following day was in two parts, because the cafe at Whitlingham Broad was helpfully closed. So after walking there from Trowse via Whitlingham Hall we walked back to Trowse along the road and had garlic bread and tea in the River Garden Cafe. We then drove back to the closed cafe and walked round the Broad, pausing only to shelter from a shower.
Later we walked up to the city to look at the Christmas stalls and witness the Christmas lights turn-on, all of which was OK, but not as spectacular as one might have expected. We returned home and had supper at Prezzo – as usual a very good meal with excellent service. Free bottle of Prosecco for the birthday girl. According to my app, I had walked a record 8.6 miles that day.
The peripatetic Evetts set off for Salisbury at about 11 on Friday, which was Dot’s actual birthday. I gave her a new violin case, a book and tickets for the ballet next February! Well, you have to book in advance. In the evening, although Dot was feeling a little under the weather, we drove to Metfield for a performance of the Fitzrovia Radio Hour, which I have to say was brilliant: a supposed radio performance in which we were the studio audience. The sound effects were the highlight, but the actors were brilliant in every respect. If you get the chance, go for it.
On Saturday yet another highlight: we drove to Caddington, arriving at almost the precise time that Elliott James Lenton was born in Southampton. Blissfully ignorant of this, we had a great time with the Coomes family – adults in the kitchen and children all on gadgets in the living room, playing a joint game, I believe. Excellent buffet food from David. After the Coomes left I got involved in a football game on the landing with Oliver, David and Amy (in goal), from which I miraculously emerged with no broken bones. Reminded me of The Christian, only more violent.
Also played a game of Mastermind with the children, in which you have to work out the position of four coloured pegs in a row. Oliver is very good at this, but I did manage to work one sequence out. I believe we played a version of this when David was young, or even earlier. Also played chess with Oliver. Like his father, he has the potential.
Meanwhile Magnus Carlsen was winning the world championship in India by defeating Viswanathan Anand without losing a game. Quite a feat.
We left quite late and as a result had a clear run home. The next day Dot was shattered and had mouth ulcers, so stayed in bed while I went to Communion. We spent most of the rest of the day watching television, which is never good. The weather has been cold, with quite a lot of rain.
The Coomes arrived a little late on Saturday, which unexpectedly put us on a tight schedule for the rest of the day. After a light lunch we caught a bus to the UEA. This took longer than usual because it was late, and therefore there was a queue at every bus stop. Nevertheless we did make it to the Sainsbury Centre, which was surprisingly open. We viewed most of the Masterpieces exhibition, which turned out to be very good, including a Turner, a couple of Colin Selfs and other good things. Consulting the programme afterwards, however, I discovered we had missed three Rennie Mackintoshes. We shall have to go back.
Happily on leaving we caught the bus back just right and did the journey in about half the time of the outward leg. This was just as well, as we had only a quarter of an hour to change for the evening meal at St Benedict’s Restaurant. We went by taxi, which unhelpfully arrived early. The meal, however, was excellent, as was the service.
As usual when I have an excellent meal, i had a bad night afterwards, but with the help of a few pills I was OK by the time we left for church, where Liz joined us in the music group and Howard was preaching (not at the same time). I managed to have quite a long chat with Anna about the UEA fiasco, and it seems to be sorting itself out. I keep getting e-mails from the UEA advertising their internship service, and I have so far restrained myself from replying with the immortal phrase, You Must Be Joking.
In true afternoon we went for a short walk, but it started raining: the kind of light, insistent, drizzly rain that soaks into you and has no compensating element to it. So we returned home, and Kristine tried to teach Dot how to make use of Linked In for her business. However, for some reason Linked In shut Dot out of her account, and while trying to help I mistakenly sent invitations to most of my address book. Most of them appear to have ignored it, happily.
The Coomes left at around 5pm, and we watched TV till Dot’s cousin Roger arrived around 8pm with her present from Jessie. He revealed that Ray, who has been on the brink of death for a long time, had finally succumbed. And so time marches on.
Today is not much more inspiring than yesterday, though I worked in a short walk while posting Bridget’s birthday card. We had met her (and her mum) in Pottergate while walking home from St Benedict’s Restaurant on Saturday. Small town. Earlier today Barbara and mutt came round to meet the accountant. This was followed by a FaceTime session with a representative of Sapere, who want them to do some Philosophy training work, though without paying all that much.
Meanwhile the new neighbour has moved in, replacing Anton and Ailsa. He has been very quiet so far. Which is good, obviously.
We are all ready for the Coomes, who are undoubtedly held up somewhere between Leytonstone and Riverside. It is a sad and damp day, and I have already driven up to the chemist to collect my prescription: one item to protect my upper respiratory tract, one to keep my blood pressure down and one to prevent acid reflux. Isn’t the pharmaceutical industry marvellous?
But I am not yet on my last legs. Yesterday I walked over six miles, which my app tells me is an all-time record. Little does it know: it has not been around long. I walked to Morrisons, and then into the city. Then, later from the car valeting place on Aylsham Road to Constitution Hill, where I dropped off a CD for my prospective publisher. I was picked up by Dot in my valeted car, and later walked to Morrisons again to pick up a few last-minute groceries. Quite a bit of housework too. Very tired at the end of the day, but for some reason I slept very badly.
I have bought Dot’s birthday presents, but I cannot reveal what they are in case she reads this. Not likely, admittedly, but still…
Claire Carrington came round on Thursday to discuss a project involving inviting everyone in church round for a meal and chat. I say everyone – the idea is probably three at a time, and not just us hosting. Not sure if this will work, but we had a good talk anyway, and divided the church up into possible groups of invitees.
Dot was out a lot this week, so I was able to catch up with various things, and I think I have more or less completed the plan for this year’s Alternative Carol Service. It consists largely of debunking Christmas myths and reading poems. I have written four new ones for it. Mostly though it will be carols and readings, plus a Communion. We don’t want to alarm the Bishop and anyway, that’s what we like.
The problem with the Paston Heritage Society’s UEA intern seems to be over, but not before I refused to have anything more to do with it. Lucy now says she will pay the bill. I haven’t heard from Anna.
I am now backed up. I have an external hard drive . If only that were true: in fact it is the computer that is backed up, now being linked to Time Machine, as it was designed to be. I myself am struggling along with the same old operating system that is showing signs of wear and tear. And I can’t get back to what I used to do.
I can’t even see very well, because I have new varifocal glasses that are designed to be clear in three different ways, but are in fact unclear in at least three, probably more. This morning I had to put my old reading glasses on to read the paper.
Oh, well. I’ve managed to walk about four miles today – mainly to the Norfolk Record Office to hear a talk by Elizabeth McDonald on “Books the Pastons Read”. Similar to the one she did at Dragon Hall, but not the same. Quite interesting, as Stephen Fry might say.
Last night we had a mammoth PCC meeting to discuss the increase in the parish share and how we were going to meet it. One of those dreadful meetings where you wish you were somewhere else. If church is about raising money, I’m not interested. I have a meeting scheduled with the new treasurer for the parish, one Susannah McGuire. I was relieved to find that she probably knows less about church accounting than I do. Sadly, that is not much. I warmed to her.
Earlier, before I got my non-focal glasses, I had a visit from Adrian Bell, the potential publisher of our tanka book. He seemed reasonably impressed. It’s just about done; I’m now waiting to hear from him what other information he needs to go in it, such as price, and whether it should have a spine – which is about as ironic as you can get.
After the piano tuner left (see last post) I went out to Rockland to see Geoff. The weather was pretty cold, but dry, and he was keen to walk in the garden. So we did it. A little unsteady, but in the circumstances remarkable. He had his carer, Lisa, with him, and she was lovely – made tea and provided (Sophie’s) fruit cake.
Next day (Friday) I went out to see Lucy, who continues to recover slowly from her cracked ribs. She has a personal assistant (carer) called Priscilla, who is also lovely. The two of us tried to put up a washing line in the garden: she was much better at it than me. She is also gradually organising the house, which will be interesting. Meanwhile the kitten and the rabbit have a peculiar relationship: the kitten puts its paw through the bars of the rabbit cage and touches the rabbit, which ignores it. Doesn’t try to get out of the way – just ignores it.
Which is what I wish I’d done with the idea to employ a UEA intern for the Paston Heritage Society. This has now reached a ridiculous stage, with the lad doing very little work but clocking up huge numbers of hours. We received a bill from the UEA which Lucy is refusing to pay. Anna is very worried. I am now retiring from the conflict and letting them get on with it, which is a pity, as they’re both friends. At the moment.
On Saturday it was still cold , but Dot and I had tickets for Norwich v West Ham. In fact we had three tickets, so we invited Phil, who called round by chance the previous afternoon. City played very badly in the first half, so at half time I predicted we would win 3-1. Amazingly, we did. I am now regarded as a prophet. I am without honour in my own country, of course.
