Very hot, Norfolk – as Noel Coward almost said. We were in the 30s yesterday, and today it seems even warmer. Also Boris Johnson has been elected the new leader of the Conservatives and therefore Prime Minister; so not much is cool, apparently.

Barry finished painting yesterday, but tidying up has been delayed because Dot has taken on a new project – painting all the dining chairs. Despite this we found time yesterday to entertain Paul to a cup of tea in the rather cluttered garden, and I was pleased to find he felt as uneasy about England’s World Cup cricket win as I was. He was at Lord’s, of course and said it was very exciting, but the wrong result. Apparently England’s captain has been in lengthy and friendly conversation with Kane Williamson, the NZ captain. They and we think a shared trophy would have been the right result.

Anna also dropped by on her way home from Derbyshire and approved the chairs, but declined a lift home despite her heavy suitcase. Instead I drove Dot into the city so that she could buy another tin of paint from a shop in Westlegate while I spent a long time turning the car round and putting the roof down (it was too hot to have it up).

Later we drove to Cromer in our air-conditioned car and had tea and cake with Peter Stibbons and his wife (plus Rob and Penny and a few others) at Beach Hut 90 on the West Promenade. While we were there someone in some kind of disability vehicle drove off the prom on to the beach ( a drop of about five feet) and a number of emergency vehicles became involved. Too far away to see exactly what happened, but Dot and I returned from a walk on the beach just as it resolved.

We then drove back to Norwich and left the car at Steve’s for the bodywork repair. Dot picked me up in the MX5 – I would normally have walked, but it was very hot and I’d already done 5000 steps! The tap replacement parts arrived today, and I’m about to pack up my binoculars to go for repair. Everything’s coming together…

Going back a bit, there was the DCC last Thursday evening. This was at Carrie’s house; so of course Phil went to the wrong place and missed it because he didn’t have my number on his phone. Apparently. Howard and Anna had to leave early; so we barely got on to the main business of the evening, which was St Augustine’s Way. Can’t remember what happened, but we agreed that not everything connected to it should have to be open to everybody.

On Friday I went to Halesworth poets and read three poems that I’d written in the past fortnight. Not one of my favourite evenings, because it was quite warm, and someone insisted on having a door open, which meant outside noise could get in. The same person then did some pretty bad singing, and because there a lot of people there, the whole thing went on rather long. Beware people who say, “I haven’t got three poems, but I have one long one.” The long one almost invariably lasts as as long as six normal ones, and probably longer, because it usually has a lengthy introduction as well.

On Saturday Dot left for Birmingham with Anna, where she had a Fiddle School arranged. The train was cancelled because of a strike, and Anna arrived too late to get the alternative – and had Dot’s ticket with her! Very annoying. So they left about 45 minutes late and had a huge rush at Birmingham, where they had arranged to have a meal with Ruth and Steve Roberts. Ruth was also taking part in the Fiddle School. (They live near Dudley.)

I drove to Hickling, intending to find Lily’s cottage, but was interrupted by a massive thunderstorm, and drove home, delaying only to take a picture at Ludham Bridge. After church the following day – at which Adrian criticised Phil’s playing and I had to calm things down – i tried again in much more pleasant weather. I parked at the church and walked through the village and back, failing to find Rhue Cottage despite asking four people, who hadn’t heard of it. However the fourth did recognise Lily’s surname and directed me to the right place. The name of the cottage was very clear – don’t know how I’d missed it.

Needless to say, Lily was out. She may have been at a church event, because I discovered some Gospel singing going on there when I returned to fetch the car. I talked to another guy and two a woman in the churchyard, then drove to Ludham Bridge, where I discovered a path to St Benet’s Abbey. Also found you could see the Abbey from Ludham Bridge. Later Paul told me a different route.

Went for another walk in Norwich in the evening (bit too much really), and met Dot off the train at 11.13pm. She had had a really good time and couldn’t speak too highly of the tutor, Joe Broughton.

The house has been pretty much in chaos for four days, and it will continue well into next week. Yes, we have a painter in. His name is Barry, and he is a very pleasant guy, but he starts at 7.30am. He also has a friend who lives in Georgia and with whom he carries on long conversations on Facetime. He carries on working while he does it, so I’m not complaining. Barry has tea with two sugars, of course. 

We are having the entire kitchen done, a couple of additional ceilings, the stairwell, all the doors and the skirting boards. In addition Dot has just decided we are having blinds in the kitchen. Well, why not?

Outside, life goes on. It’s been raining this morning, but mostly over the last week it’s been dry – though on Tuesday night when walking to Eleanor’s for cake and compline we found ourselves under the only cloud in the country. It spotted a bit when we left, but David Archer gave us a lift home. Apart from us (and Eleanor), he was the only one there: Bridget was detained in Cambridge with her mother, Judy was ill, Vicky was looking after Amy and Claire was probably at work, though we’re not sure. We got through quite a bit of cake.

Earlier in the day I had a Butterfly Cafe meeting with Phil Gazley, who is currently working at St Luke’s but for YWAM, and as far as I can gather is trying to get a number of things organised. As these largely involve training and volunteering, they do not appeal to me at first glance, but I have agreed to look through a document that he wants me to anglicise. It stems from Birmingham, Alabama.

Going back to last Saturday, we ended the day with a farewell event for Sonia, head at Little Plumstead, which took place in Thorpe St Andrew. Dot put the street in the satnav, and we ended up lost and had to go home to look at the map that had been sent. When I looked at it, I recognised where it was immediately. Why didn’t I look first? Anyway, we were in time not to spoil the surprise for Sonia and had quite a nice evening. The staff had practised a nice dance/music number (Chain Reaction) which was surprisingly good, but I knew almost no-one; so the event as a whole was a little tricky. One guy knew me, but I’m still struggling to remember exactly where from. It was probably many, many years ago.

The next day Phil led the service with his injured chin, but Judy was ill. Dot did a cake for my birthday, which was eaten up rapidly. Last run the day the Seagull achieved one of the scheduling masterstrokes of the century by holding a poetry evening at the same time as two amazing sporting events. We missed the men’s Wimbledon final entirely, and only got the Cricketing World Cup final on radio, with Dot listening to the last bit outside the theatre just before the poetry started.

We saw the cricket highlights later, and it was all a bit odd. Unusually, I thought the England players did well (especially Ben Stokes, for whom I have a new respect), but felt New Zealand were robbed, partly by astonishing bad luck, and partly by bad umpiring. So I didn’t feel at all euphoric. Perhaps if I’d been there…

The Paston project is on the brink of falling apart. Rob, Peter, Karen and I had a meeting at the Maid’s Head on Monday, and it was clear that Rob was completely disillusioned by Matt, Rebecca and the UEA generally. He would like to drop it all, and so would I, were it not for the fact that Peter has been doing some tremendous work in the digital, 3D and database areas (see “Paston Places” at thisispaston.co.uk). Karen is trying to rescue it all, and Blofield is going well…

Last night I had quite a good night’s sleep, which was reassuring as I was just getting tireder and tireder. Today I’m catching up with thousands of e-mails (hyperbole) while Dot is at an alternative sports day at St Luke’s. I don’t know what that is, but whatever it is, Dot is playing music at it with Anna and Matt, and possibly Phil, though apparently Phil has fallen over and cut his chin.

Dot was playing music last Saturday too: a Sillars concert at Cromer parish church on the theme of water. She was taken by fellow second fiddle Janet Smith, and I turned up around teatime on a grey and unexciting day. The concert was very good, though the size of the church made the audience seem small. Paul and Maryta came, as did Dave and Julia from their Blakeney hideaway. Also Peter Stibbons, who was surprised to see so few Cromer people there.

P & M left at the interval, which was pretty good going for Maryta, and afterwards Dot and I took the Evetts back to Blakeney before going home.

The weather had improved by Sunday, and apparently everyone was out in it, because I led the service, preached the sermon, and wrote the prayers for Dot to read. No-one else was available, and the congregation just scraped up to eleven. We took our time packing afterwards and reached Blakeney just before 5pm. We had Room 14 at the Manor Hotel – a nice semi-suite just round the corner from the dining room. Obviously the Evetts had Room 1. The food was pretty good, as usual, but the bacon was smoked: so Dave had boiled egg, or sometimes scrambled.

On Monday I drove to Thornham, and we had a coffee/tea before returning to the car for an extra item of clothing. I can’t remember what it was, but it was just as well, because I’d left the engine running. I didn’t think it was possible to do that, but apparently it was.

After putting that right, we walked thorough Thornham and then across the marsh and out past the usual bleached timber towards Holme, before turning back inland and back to the Thornham Deli again, where we had lunch. Afterwards we decided to go to Burnham Market, but when Julia said we could find somewhere for a cup of coffee (we had just walked out of a cafe) I panicked and left them there while I drove to Burnham Norton – a very quiet spot where I wrote a poem. At the last minute I checked with a church ruins book I have and found there were ruins of a Friary on the hill; so I called there on the way to pick the others up. When I picked them up, I found they hadn’t been to a cafe at all. We drove to Wiveton fruit farm and booked lunch for Wednesday.

On Tuesday there were a few spots of rain, but nothing to speak of. It was still warm. We drove to Cley nature reserve , and coffee/tea and then walked out to the beach and along the shingle to the beach car park. Julia found this quite difficult. From there we walked into Cley and took refreshment at the Artemis cafe, which had run out of fruit scones. So I had ginger beer only. The Evetts though I was angry, but in fact it was quite refreshing. We walked back to the nature reserve, which had closed two sections of its car park for no apparent reason. Perhaps newts were nesting there.

The next day the rain thickened as we walked to Morston in waterproofs before calling at the Anchor Inn for coffee/tea. I had nothing, because I was full from breakfast. Julia didn’t have much because her soya milk tasted funny. We caught the Coasthopper, which was 15 minutes late, and returned to Blakeney to pick up the cars. We had checked out earlier. We then drove to Wiveton for lunch at the fruit farm: very nice. I had grilled peached and watercress, plus something else, followed by gooseberry and elderflower creme brûlée. The Evetts shared one of those, despite the large spoons.

We reached home exhausted and did very little for the rest of the day, except catch up on TV highlights of the Tour de France.

On Thursday I went for a Quiet Day at Filby for authorised worship assistants. I met some people from South Norfolk and a man from Ormesby, plus the local vicar, who led it. She did very well; the first bit in particular was quite encouraging, and we ended with Eucharist. Rain had been promised for the whole day, but in fact it was only the odd shower, and I was able to walk down to the Trinity Broads. Apparently I was spotted on my walk by the Hendersons, driving back from their daily visit to St Benet’s Abbey. I wrote four poems, which made six in a week. No-one else from St Augustine’s or St Luke’s was at the Quiet Day. There were about 18 in all.

Yesterday was my birthday. I am now 74. Dot and I were driven by the Robinsons to the Blakeney Hotel for a change of scene, and had a very good meal there. The starter and the sweet were particularly good. Dot, Anne and I went for a short walk afterwards, but it was quite windy, blowing onshore. Philip drove us home. If he had driven any slower, he would have been going backwards.

In the evening we did a joint Facetime with David, Oliver and Amy, which was nice. Canada seems a fun country, but I’m not sure Amy was all that happy. David sent me a gift-wrapped chess book from Amazon, and Dot bought me various things, including a scope, which came all the way from China, on a slow boat, but made it the day before my birthday. I had to collect it from the sorting office, where someone recognised me: “Aren’t you that bloke from ECN?” I was.

After some warm, dry days we are hit by a cooler front today, and some light rain. Dot is in Cromer, rehearsing for her concert tonight, and I shall be going over later. I have just finished preparing for tomorrow, when I am not only leading the service but preaching too. Everyone else is away.

Just had a very busy week, but nothing new about that. Tuesday featured the usual Archant coffee morning, with an unusual visit from Peter Franzen (and David Wakefield). Following that I had a trustees’ meeting in the afternoon. It followed some doom-laden e-mails that sounded almost terminal, but in fact we continue with the project, with efforts being made to get Matt to work harder.

In the evening Dot and I went to see Girl on a Train at the Theatre Royal, which was pretty good, except that I thought the lead actress was rather over the top. Dot was appreciative, though. At the interval I had an unusual experience while walking down to the bar: I found it hard to control my legs, but I didn’t really feel dizzy and my head was OK. Eventually got over it, with the help of some ice cream. Chance meeting with Roger Whittaker, who I didn’t recognise: he was involved with some stuff I did at City College, and Dot had also come across him in the education world. All a bit vague.

On Wednesday I took the Mazda 3 in for a service and retrieved the MX5, which had now passed its MoT, but with dire warmings of things likely to go wrong soon. Later I received a quote for the scratches/dent on my car. This amounted to about £1200; so I took it to Harvey Lane, where I got a quote of about £200, which I accepted. It’s going in later in the month.

In the evening Dot was rehearsing; so I took Des and Chris and Judy to a concert at Blofield. This was by the Gonville and Caius College Choir. They did a first half on William Byrd, which was brilliant, and a second half on OT stories (eg Samson by Handel), which was pretty good too. They had an excellent organ scholar playing, and first-class refreshments as usual, courtesy of Barbara Pilch. David and Bridget turned up, which was nice. Sad that Dot couldn’t be there, as she would have loved the Byrd, especially.

Afterwards I unloaded a lot of stuff from David’s airing cupboard on to Judy’s living room floor. I believe it’s going to a good home. Cats are involved.

I spent most of Thursday writing a sermon, but in the evening we went into the city to see The Common Lot (a theatre group) perform a travelling show about the history of Norwich, and Anglia Square in particular. It started in The Garth (cloisters behind St Andrew’s Hall), proceeded to the open space in front of the Playhouse and ended at Anglia Square, with various spot performances on the way. Met Liz Cannon and Stephanie Caine, whose son Charlie (or daughter Charlotte, as he used to be when Dot taught her) was organising the music – and very well, it has to be said. Carrie was also taking part, of course, and so was Matt and many other local people.

All in all, pretty impressive, though Dot was slightly more impressed than me. I felt it could have done with a bit of editing, but the enthusiasm made up for a lot. Howard handed our marshmallows as we went through Golden Dog Lane, but Anna said they were for the performers. I ate one anyway.

Yesterday was another fine day, and packed full of exciting things. We started by having our hair cut at 9.50am, roughly 50 minutes after it should have been but leaving just enough time for Dot to go into the city to fulfil an appointment at Jarrolds. No sooner had she returned when we were off to Felbrigg Hall to meet the Evetts for lunch, followed by a walk down to the pond and round by the church – beautiful scenery – followed by a cup of tea.

We then drove to Beeston Regis to meet Fred and Sue at their caravan for a barbecue. Bit early, but it enabled us to relax for a while before Adrian and Jane O’dell arrived. Very good barbecue, and towards the end Fred and Sue’s daughter Liz arrived with a friend from Banbury. Lots of talk, and we got home about 11pm.

David and Oliver are now safely in Canada, having flown out on Saturday (two and a half hours late). But last Tuesday we took the opportunity to see them before they left, and to relieve them of most of their airing cupboard in preparation for their house sale, which they hope will happen while they are away.

On the way to Caddington Dot and I took the opportunity to call in and see Joan at Baldock, choosing (accidentally) a particularly circuitous route to approach it. She seemed pretty well, which was a relief, as it was a long time since we had seen her, and she hadn’t replied to my e-mail. Turns out she had changed her e-mail address. Not sure why… Anyway, it didn’t work.

We had Indian takeaway at Caddington followed by some cake provided by Dot. Amy was also there, but she had to go off to school early the next day, whereas Oliver stayed behind till we left about lunch time. He and David were then both going to Aylesbury, after which it got quite complicated. We ourselves drove home, calling at Elveden for a very pleasant snack (me whitebait, Dot soup) and a bit of food purchasing. In the evening Dot went to orchestra practice.

The next day I had a game of pitch-and-putt with Paul. I was particularly poor, feeling extremely tired, but managed to halve two or three holes in the middle section.

Friday saw us playing host to the vicar, Sarah, and her husband Mike. Dot cooked some intricate chicken, and we had a really nice evening. The weather was getting warmer, and it hit the heights on Saturday, but we went in the city anyway, to buy some birthday cards, a diary for Andrew and to collect some tickets from the Theatre Royal. We also called into the Forum, where there was an exhibition featuring several Christian organisations. We chatted to one woman from Fishergate/St Stephens and I also spoke to Keith Morris of Network Norwich. We had an ice cream and sat on the Forum steps surrounded by teenagers doing tricks on bikes, and watched a wedding emerge from St Peter Mancroft. It was really hot.

Yesterday it was slightly less hot but very pleasant. After a joint service at St Augustine’s, where I sang one of my songs during Communion, Dot and I went to Walpole, near Halesworth, where there was a poetry afternoon in the atmospheric Old Chapel, plus an excellent a cappella group called Triangle, and some nice refreshments. I read three poems: Breaking up; Orford; and Etretat – all quite old but on theme, which was bridges/crossings. Knew quite a few of the poets – Sue Foster, Charmion Watson, Kaaren Whitney, Mike Bannister, Sue Mobbs, Elizabeth Bracken, and several others by sight.

Unfortunately the afternoon was somewhat marred when I was showing Dot where I read poems in Halesworth, and in turning round in a narrow gateway scraped the side of the car – not badly, but no doubt expensively. Despite that, the journey home down Suffolk and Norfolk lanes was very pleasant. Later, in the cool of the evening, we went for a short walk to bring our steps up to something respectable.

Going back a week, I completed Thursday the 18th by making one of my sporadic attendances at Jurnet’s poetry evening. Colin Payne and Hilary were both there, but attendance generally was a bit low. I read my poem about Adam Cohen and a new one called Earlham Hall. The theme of the evening was “Fathers”. We finished at 9.30pm, which was good.

The week was somewhat dominated by the CNS fifth form 1961 annual reunion, which on this occasion was in the form of Desert Island Discs. I wasn’t involved in that until Tony Friedlander managed to fracture his hip playing tennis, which meant I was asked to take over from him as one of the interviewers. Since I can’t resist putting myself in the forefront, I agreed.

I was interviewing someone I didn’t know – or to put it another way had gone through five years at CNS without consciously meeting. He had been in 5X and his name was Mike Smith. Adrian – now attaining the elusive title of slowest and worst driver I have ever been driven by – took me to Upton, where Mike lives and where he has the largest share in a community interest company, in this case a pub.

I wasn’t sure how we’d get on, and I think he was a bit worried too. But in fact we got on very well, though he’s quite different from me – a rough-round-the-edges businessman who started at the bottom and did extremely well. We had lunch at the pub and talked through Tony’s notes, correcting them where necessary.

His first wife had died a few years ago, and he had married her closest friend, Anna, who was really nice. I introduced her to Dot at the event itself, which was on Friday, and we all got on very well. We had lunch at the Louis Marchesi first – OK, but not great – and then proceeded to St Martin at Palace Plain, where Desert Island Discs took place, complete with comfy chairs. I did OK, I think, despite Adrian having some sound problems to start off with (we were on first), and Mike was quite happy. He had some good stories; so it wasn’t difficult.

The other two interviewees were Les Pye (policeman) and Roger Cawdron, owner of several pubs in Norwich, including the Ribs of Beef. I didn’t interview them, and it all went remarkably well. We were able to give Fred and Sue directions out of Norwich afterwards!

On Thursday we had a bit of a shock when the MX5 failed its MOT test and we were told we would be paying well over £1000 too get it through. We thought for a bit about becoming a one-car family, but after talking to the mechanic and service guy at the Mazda garage we decided to grit our teeth and carry on, at least for six months. The car is now in the garage awaiting repair.

The weekend was quite warm and mainly dry. On Saturday Dot and I went for a walk towards the end of the day and had a drink at Wetherspoons by the river. Very pleasant. On Sunday we went further afield after the service – where I just got back in time to pray after getting the car to rescue Phyllis from beside the road. Ray had gone to walk with her, but she found it too much. We took her home, and when Dot and I visited her after the service, she was much better.

After lunch we drove to Winterton, where it was still warm but with a bit of an onshore breeze. We walked a fair distance and then had a cup of tea outside the cafe just before it closed. The beach at Winterton has changed again, and is extremely attractive. We saw a couple of seals, plus a family of idiots climbing up the cliff below a hut on the brink. Sadly, it didn’t fall on them. Obviously I don’t mean that. Much.

Yesterday Dot was out DSSO-ing in the Stalham area while I took a bus to the UEA for a Paston database practice session with some volunteer students from UEA and Gary and Jenny from the NRO. This was led by Peter with assistance from his web expert, David Viner. He was not helped by Karen disappearing to get some books and not coming back (we later found she was in hospital again), Rebecca just not coming, and Matt not coming because his stepfather had gone into hospital at Lynn.

Karen was supposed to be supplying a log-in to the UEA system; so Peter spent some time trying to get one from the office. Fortunately the students had their own log-ins. The whole operation was pretty complex, and at the end Gary suggested making it much simpler, which I had to agree with. Still, the students (postgrad I think) seemed to cope.

In the evening we drove to Trinity for a really good talk by Stephanie Bryant of the Faraday Institute. She spoke about science and faith as seen by young people, and how they went into schools and addressed the relevant issues – sounded very much like Philosophy, as Dot pointed out. We had a chat with her. She became a Christian after reading Roger Dawkins’ books, where she was fascinated by the science but completely unconvinced by the logic. She seemed exactly the right person to talk to kids.

It rained hard overnight (we’ve had quite a bit of heavy rain recently), but it’s now dry, and we shall be heading to Caddington later and staying the night – probably our last visit to the house, and certainly the last time we’ll see David and Oliver before they leave for Canada at the weekend.

Back to square one last Thursday (appropriately enough, the day of the week I was born on) when I was given a lift by Rob to Earlham Hall, my birthplace. Now part of the UEA, it was the venue for another Paston meeting, this time about the big exhibitions planned for the autumn of 2020. Happily I was not taking the minutes.

Matt was on cloud nine, having discovered (as he thought) a previously unknown Paston, and possibly three or four. This proved to be not entirely true, but it got quite a big spread in the EDP, and was in the Telegraph too. The meeting was not totally compelling, but I got a lift home.

Much better was a talk by Brendan Pelphrey, the American Greek Orthodox monk, in the evening at the Julian Church, following refreshments at the centre. Dot and I had a chat with Elspeth, our former keyboard player, and some other people, and the talk was largely excellent. Debbie came in late, was the first person to respond to requests for questions, and then left early. We felt this was so typically Debbie that some record should be made of it.

The next day we had an early haircut, which is always a bit unnerving, and in the afternoon I had a massage by Verena, of which the same might be said. Meanwhile Joy has decided not to go ahead with her book, but Howard was happy with what I did on the Julian leaflet. I shall get paid for both, which is quite unusual.

On Saturday Dot and I went to Worstead for the weavers’ annual festival, at which the Paston Society had a stall. Going to Worstead proved to be a mistake because the Worstead festival turned out to be at Dilham. Of course. Why wouldn’t it be? I rang Rob and was redirected. Had quite a good time there: Teresa turned up and we had a scone and cake. Dot bought various small items, and it hardly rained at all.

In the evening we walked up to the Cathedral for a performance of Haydn’s Creation, in which Paul was singing. The performance of both choir and orchestra was brilliant, but I was not impressed by the libretto, which was in appallingly bad English, and not Victorian English, as David Archer maintained (he was there with Bridget). I found it distracting, to say the least. Actually it made me quite angry.

Still, we chatted with Paul, David and Bridget, as well as the male Snells, who were sitting in the side aisle. It rained on the way home, but Dot had an umbrella.

On Sunday I preached on the Trinity. I was a little bit uncertain, but the Rev Liz Cannon, who was leading, said it was one of the best sermons on the Trinity she’d heard. Maybe she hasn’t heard many. It was Father’s Day, and later we had a chat with David on FaceTime.

Yesterday I walked to Dragon Hall for a talk by Adrian O’Dell on the history of Norfolk heritage as it’s related to Dragon Hall. There was a bit too much of the former, but it was all quite interesting. Dot was doing a REQM assessment in Lowestoft, and we just missed each other, but fortunately I was home in time for the Hello Fresh man.

Oliver has finished his GCSEs. He seems quite happy about them.

The weather has turned very soggy indeed over the last week, and overcast too. This has however enabled me to finish current work on the Paston Database, initial work on Joy’s book and editing of the Julian Centre leaflet (requested by Howard). Amazingly there was only one day (yesterday) this month so far when I failed to complete 5000 steps, and that was because it was too wet last night to walk up to the Cote in Exchange Street for a meal, and we had to get a taxi.

The meal was a late celebration of Anne’s birthday and was very pleasant. I had steak frites and everyone else had fish. We walked home, but it wasn’t enough.

On Monday I walked to the dentist in the rain to discuss whether he really needed to do a deep cleaning procedure. We talked for about 15 minutes, but eventually I gave in. He did it this morning (more rain on the way home), and it was only mildly painful, but it’s the after-effects I’m concerned about. To stop thinking about it (partly) we went to the cinema and saw The Aftermath, which was pretty good in that it made me think about what it must have been like in Germany immediately after the war.

After my first visit to the dentist Dot and I took the Paston display boards over to Lucy’s, where we had tea with her and Naomi. She is still complaining about how UEA hijacked the Paston project, without realising how her resigning from it at the outset didn’t help in that area. Quite frustrating to talk to her.

In the middle of the sogginess we had a dry spell late on Saturday – enough for a longish local walk –and a really nice day on Sunday, when we drove out to How Hill in the afternoon and walked down to the river, where there was the unexpected bonus of a wherry on display and open to boarding. So we did that and had quite long chat with the volunteers, who were not local enough to have heard of Timothy Coleman, whose family owned the boat – the Hathor, which was Egyptian-themed. They did know a lot of other stuff, though. Beautiful vessel.

We also looked round the eel-catcher’s hut, had an ice cream and went for a walk, though not in that order. Really lovely afternoon.

Bit cooler, with some rain last night. But plenty of sun today, and I played a pleasant game of pitch and putt over lunchtime. I was pretty awful, of course, and won only one hole (halved two), but it was good for my steps. Since then I helped Dot pick up an olive tree from Morrisons, because our garden is not full enough. While eating choc ices outside we fed a blackbird that became extremely adjacent.

While I was out Joe Logan called and tuned the piano for a mere £92 and advised selling David’s for around £250 in the Harpenden area.

Have been doing quite a bit of walking . I can’t remember why. When yesterday threatened to be a very poor day, I got a lift with Dot up to Chapelfield, where she picked up her conductor for orchestra practice. I then walked home by a somewhat circuitous route, despite rain clouds threatening, and got my steps up in time.

The previous day was easier. It started with a coffee morning up at Prospect House, with the usual suspects in attendance. I then walked to the dentist, who gave me a good clean and suggested some deeper cleaning which I am now having second thoughts about. Later we drove up to Eleanor’s at the Great Hospital, had tea with her and then took her to Cake and Compline at Claire’s.

Eleanor’s house is beautiful, with a great close-up view of the cathedral and a lovely feel to it. Would love to live there.

The previous day was PCC. I am no longer on the PCC, but Dot went. She got back very late after giving Elwira a lift home, and I had fallen asleep while reading a Shardlake book – the first, Dissolution. Yesterday the church treasurer resigned. I am not going even slightly near that.

Last weekend was not the busiest. I led the service on Sunday, which was quite enjoyable, and Saturday was really warm for the Big Lunch up on the Old Library Wood. We didn’t go, but had a look as we went for a carefully timed walk intended to get us back in good time to hand over Des’s keys to his son-in-law. This would have worked well, but said son-in-law rang while we were near the Cloisters to say he had arrived – over half an hour early. Ho, hum.

In the evening we watched the European Cup Final, which the literal-minded referee ruined by awarding an unjustified penalty to Liverpool in the 2nd minute. It was all downhill from there – neither side showed much flair, and Liverpool eventually won 2-0. Pity.

Meanwhile I am editing a poetry book for Joy McCall. The deadline is before she dies. Not sure how to take that.

It’s getting warmer, and I’ve been doing some work on the Paston Timeline, which unexpectedly proved quite interesting. This is half-term week, which means there have been a lot of children around, and on Tuesday Dot and I went to see Endgame, the last of the Avengers series, to find that the cinema was packed. Happily, we were early enough to get reasonable seats.

The film itself was very good in parts, but slow in others, especially near the beginning. It ran to over three hours and could easily have been edited. I liked the angel but still don’t really get the point of Captain America. The whole thing is very US-centered of course: there are six hidden stones, and three of them are in New York. Really?

On a slightly different level, we went to St Andrew’s Hall last Saturday to hear the Britten Sinfonia perform Beethoven’s Ninth. I drove Dot up because her feet were hurting, then took the car home and walked back. We walked home together, and she was OK. The evening started with a modern piece featuring the most amazing performance by a soprano I’ve ever heard. Excellent evening altogether.

The next day I went into church early while Dot parked the car – probably not a good idea as I got into a discussion about thermostats. People don’t seem to realise that if you turn the thermostat down (and open the windows), it may mean that the heat is reduced to a more comfortable level immediately, but by halfway through it is decidedly chilly, because the thermostat doesn’t miraculously turn itself up again.

Afterwards Dot and I went to Mannington Hall for the launch of the Paston cycle route. It had turned very rainy, though not cold, and the open gardens that were part of the event were a bit of a washout. Not a good day for Lord and Lady Walpole, because they had been involved in a car crash earlier and had serious injuries. Dot found this out in a talk with their son Henry, who was standing in as host as well as being very worried about his parents. Also present: Matt and Rebecca, Rob (as John Fenn) and Penny, Carole and her husband, and Peter Stibbons with his siege engines.

One of the reasons we were there was to pick up the display boards to transport them eventually to Lucy, who wants them for an event in June. I hadn’t quite grasped that we would have to wait till the end, because the boards were in use, but fortunately the rain forced an early finish, and we were able to get away before 4pm. Since then I’ve mended the boxes they’re in with duck tape and packed them ready for taking to Lucy in ten days’ time.

On bank holiday Monday were were invited to a barbecue at Luke and Michelle’s new home on Reepham Road. We took Des and Chris, and to our surprise there were only five other people there: Luke, Michelle, her mother (who also lives there), and two of Luke’s mates from work. The barbecue was very good, despite the intermittent rain, and afterwards we watched the Championship play-off final between Aston Villa and Derby – won 2-1 by Villa.

The next day the plumber came round, and the two small jobs both turned out to be very difficult. Dot and I made an unsuccessful trip to the plumbers’ merchants on Kett’s Hill, and eventually the kitchen tap was put together again with no change – but it doesn’t drip so much. If we decide to buy new bits online, the plumber will put them in for free. He didn’t have much more luck with the sink in the shower room, eventually ending up with an old-fashioned plug because the original was not mendable.

On Wednesday we combined collecting my pills with going to the charity shop, Morrisons, and the Norwich City shop. While at the latter we noticed that some big event was looming at Carrow Road. It turned out to be a Take That concert, which I blame for blocking our Netflix the following evening. The next day Anne and Dot went into the city, and I did more work on the Timeline, as well as writing an article for my website.

This morning I woke up late and was fetching a cup of tea for Dot when I was interrupted by the window cleaner. He was profusely apologetic. I’m not sure what for.