How quickly things change. A few days ago I was bemoaning the lack of heat, and the failure of the sun to put in an appearance. Today it is undeniably hot, with a clear blue sky.

Yesterday, I’m happy to say, it was slightly less hot, and my train journey to Coventry was quite pleasant. Once there, I took Andrew to Memorial Park, had an ice cream (me; piece of cake, him) and walked back to Minster Lodge. Not too far, but it exhausted Andrew, and I was quite tired too. Other than that he seemed quite well, apart from his usual failure to place things correctly in time and space.

I picked up Andrew’s Christmas presents for us (a little late) and was a bit worried about their weight, but in fact they weren’t too cumbersome on the journey home, which was awkward in other ways. First, I had to wait about an hour at Coventry station because the ticket lady had booked me onto a specific train, which turned out to be 12 minutes late. This introduced a worry about catching the connection to Norwich, which rapidly accelerated (the worry, not the train) when I reached the platform at Euston Square underground and heard conflicting announcements about the length of delays for trains on that line. Eventually the loudspeaker said there would be no more trains because of a signal failure, but at precisely that point the board said there was one arriving in two minutes. My faith in inanimate objects was rewarded when it duly turned up and took me to Liverpool Street.

I was still on the brink when I rushed on to the station concourse and saw that the Norwich train had been cancelled. However, a replacement had miraculously been scheduled for five minutes later, and I hurtled on to this, only to find my allotted seat was occupied and to be told by the rather surly woman occupying it that all reservations were void. Thank you, Greater Anglia. Happily, an adjacent seat was vacant and amazingly, the train made good time to Norwich.

Point of interest for first-class rail travellers. On Greater Anglia you get free tea and coffee, plus free biscuits or crisps, if you go to the buffet car with your ticket. On Virgin, you are no sooner seated than you are offered tea, coffee and all kinds of alcoholic beverages at your seat, plus sandwiches  or onion bhajis and a myriad other snacks – all free. Just in case you should be wondering about whether to travel to Coventry or Norwich.

This morning Dot and I went to see Lucy, who is upset at certain things happening within and to the Paston Heritage Society that I am not yet at liberty to divulge. Our discussion was quite revealing, and I found myself in sympathy with much of what she said. Her new house is still choc-a-block, and while we were there she took delivery of a heavy cabinet  and something else weighty. Two men also came uproot her tree stumps. Naomi was also there.

Earlier in the week I managed to clean my parents’ grave with some magic spray I got online. We also had the house alarm serviced by a nice young lad who admired our garage floor.

On Tuesday I went to Jurnet’s poetry evening and read three poems. Not particularly inspiring as an evening, but they seemed to like the poems – The Daffodils are Dead, Angel’s Wings and White Hut. Hilary was there, but not Rupert.

Last Sunday was the vicar’s last, and I couldn’t face going to the “joint” service at St Luke’s; so as penance we went and had coffee with the Hendersons. In the afternoon we had our usual good time with Jessie. I was later astonished to discover that some of St Luke’s congregation are coming to us on April 29, because they don’t have anyone to lead their service. Apparently this is because those who would be involved are going to Oldham for David’s installation. Totally gobsmacked.

David arrived back from Canada yesterday, while I was en route to Coventry, and Des and Chris at No 11 arrive back from New Zealand tomorrow, after overnighting somewhere near the airport. All very reassuring.

I seem to remember we used to have a yellow thing in the sky that gave off a certain amount of heat. No sign of it since I last posted here, and for a while before that. Gloomy, grey and damp weather persists. Of course there could be something else in the sky soon, because the US, UK and France have just attacked targets in Syria. Expect a backlash any time.

Not a particularly happy week in other ways. Spent ages trying to help Debbie with getting a group e-mail sent out via mailchimp, which I had to pick up as I went along. All seemed to be well in the end, but Debbie then got in touch to say it hadn’t gone, which meant the involvement of the dreaded Liz D, as mailchimp expert. Eventually it turned out that mailchimp couldn’t cope with having copy pasted into it from Word, which seems a pretty big deficiency to me, especially as there’s nothing to say there’s anything wrong.

Then yesterday our church treasurer rang to say the bank wouldn’t deal with her and would I, as a former treasurer and signatory, ring them to sort it out. I made the mistake of saying yes, and then had the usual trouble with TSB, who wanted memorable information that I had forgotten years ago. I got very angry and could actually feel my blood pressure rising. In the end I referred the treasurer to Howard, who lives close to a TSB branch and is also a signatory, but I felt bad for the rest of the day. In fact, I still haven’t completely recovered.

This set me up well for the ceilidh at St Luke’s in the evening, which was a farewell gathering for the vicar. Dot went early for a practice (she’s in the ceilidh band with Anna, Howard and Phil), and I was going to give the whole thing a miss for obvious reasons, but Sophie rang and asked if I could give Phyllis a lift; so I did. As I arrived Howard was filling in bank forms, which made me feel bad, especially as he’s leaving for Nepal today and hadn’t packed yet. I hung around for a while and talked to various people, but eventually had to leave, before the vicar arrived.

Some good things happened. Amy sent us lots of pictures from Cornwall, and I wrote a poem about the Maids Head. On Thursday we went for meal at Prezzo with Angela and Rodney, partly to discuss arrangements for our golden wedding do. It was a nice meal, but that branch of Prezzo is closing in a month, which is very annoying. We know the staff, it’s close to us and we like the food. Afterwards A & R came back for a drink, and we chatted for quite a while.

Earlier in the week Dot rang up Colin Wright about cutting down the trees in our front garden, which were beginning to look pretty ugly. As it happened, he was in Norwich and came round to have a look, then said he could do them the next day. He arrived at 9am, half an hour early, took down the trees and installed some trellis work in that corner of the garden. Dot and I moved some  plants to make it look less stark, and I’m sure in due course it will be very attractive. As I write, Dot is trying to train the ivy across some wire to form an arch.

Astonishingly the following day (Thursday) my brother Phil walked the mile from his house to mine and arrived unexpectedly with a belated Easter card from his son Sam. He stayed for a cup of tea, and then Dot drove him back on the way to the shops. Well, not really on the way, but out there somewhere. Phil seems a lot better recently, but of course he still has the Parkinson’s. My ankle has improved a lot, but I’m still not walking any great distances.

Just back from a meeting at the Maid’s Head with Rob and Georgina X (no-one knows her surname, but she’s in charge of sales at the hotel while her colleague is on maternity leave). We discussed the two major events relating to the Pastons and the hotel, namely Norfolk Day, when I shall be in Canada (It’s also our golden wedding day) and Founders’ Day, which is Dot’s birthday.  You see how it all ties in?

We also talked about other methods of involving the hotel in the Paston extravaganza, which means I’ll be doing quit a bit of work, such as writing a poem about the Maid’s Head and devising a leaflet for their use. Matt would have been at the meeting, but he has a stomach upset.

Yesterday Dot and I neatly avoided the annual meeting of the DCC by travelling to Ashtead, in Surrey, for Bob and Susan Bushell’s golden wedding celebrations. They used to be Sue and Robert, but then Anne used to be Ruthie. What can you do? The only other Wallhallians there were Pat and Barry, and we sat with them for the afternoon tea. Barry does small acting jobs in films, and is entertaining on the subject (and various other subjects). Pat is a bit quieter.

The tea was delicious, and the talk by four grandchildren was extremely well done. Bob (Robert), a former banker, got quite emotional. All in all a good afternoon, and the drive there and back, though very wet, was not too bad. We stopped at Birchanger Services on the M11 going and coming, and shared the driving of course. It all took about the same time as David’s flight to Toronto. He is spending ten days or so there.

The previous day Dot went to Carrow Road to watch Norwich City play Aston Villa, and I watched it on Now TV, having been alerted by David. Good thing, too, because they won 3-1, with a superb goal by Murphy at the end of the first half.

Apart from having our hair cut, the only other thing worth of note in the last week was a  visit to the Undercroft to see an exhibition by cross-generational artists. I’m not sure what that means: I presume it’s younger ones pretending to be older, and vice versa. Anyway it included an inventive section by Rupert Mallin, who I had a long chat with. I had thought I was going to the PV, but apparently that was later in the day. I was too tired to go back.

After the Undercroft, Dot and I called in at Jarrolds and saw Anna drinking a cup of tea. She had been quite ill after seeing her granddaughter, and has not yet recovered. Dot and I had wine and cheese at the Jarrolds wine bar, and by the time we got home I had to lie down. Dot has managed to get a bit of gardening done, but generally it’s been pretty wet and gloomy over the last few pseudo-spring days.

Dot and I are alone again, following a lovely weekend with David, Oliver and Amy. well, the weekend wasn’t lovely in terms of weather – it was largely cold and wet – but it was lovely having them with us. We didn’t get out much, but there was plenty of Easter-egg hunting and table tennis.

We did get to see Ready Player One at the cinema – a really good film about virtual and real worlds, based on a book that four of us had read and enjoyed. And yesterday, when the rain eventually stopped, we took a bus up to the UEA and, while David and Amy looked round the Superstructures exhibition, Dot, Oliver and I walked round the campus, partly looking for the sculptures in the outdoor exhibition and partly talking about the UEA and universities in general. Oliver clearly liked the UEA layout and halls of residence, but he has his heart set on either  Oxford or Cambridge – quite rightly.

After a drink in the cafe we took a bus back into the city and had a lovely lunch at Presto, chatting to Roberto and Kathy and our waitress, Charlotte, who used to work at Sasses as a girl and now has children, returning to work after time off. The family left for Caddington around 5.30pm.

Of course Dot and I left the house at other times. Around midnight on Friday we had to go and lock the church hall gates ( so that the path through didn’t become a right of way), and slightly earlier on Saturday we went and opened them, which was somewhat easier. I made a mental note to stop doing this: I’ve been doing it for years, and it’s very inconvenient. This year there was also hassle from the vicar and Stuart about the date chosen – as if there was a date that wouldn’t be inconvenient for local residents. The vicar suggested some time in the Low Season. In The Lathes they speak of little but the Low Season.

We also went to church on Easter Sunday, of course. Our offer to take any one else who was interested was declined, but we had a really good service with Liz Cannon and Howard.

Before David, Oliver and Amy’s arrival there were a couple of items of note. On the Wednesday there was a meeting about the interregnum led by the Archdeacon and Rural Dean. I was very disappointed by this, but my disappointment was reduced somewhat by a very nice e-mail from the Rural Dean (via Carrie) afterwards.

On the Thursday I went to Hellesdon library to hear a costumed talk by Rob (as Richard Calle) to the local history group. I arrived at the same time as Rob and Penny, and so was able to keep Penny company in the audience. Rob was good as always, despite his feeling under the weather. His research is impressive.

Have been having trouble sleeping recently. This morning I must have woken not much after 5am. It is now just after 8am. I am hoping Dot is still asleep.

One of the busiest weekends in living memory – well, perhaps not, but there was a lot going on. First, I had to be at the Norfolk Record Office by 9.45am on Saturday to take part in the Paston Footprints launch for volunteers. I gave a very brief talk on Blofield and Norwich, met the project manager and one or two other volunteers who I’d met before, plus one I hadn’t, then returned home just in time to have lunch with Heather and Simon, who had just arrived by train from Leicester.

Dot made a fairly quick exit after lunch, because she had a rehearsal for a Sillars concert, which was at St Andrew’s, Eaton, in the evening. I had to meet Robin and Shelagh Limmer, plus the Hendersons, because I had their tickets. That went OK. The church was packed, but we got quite good seats, although unfortunately I couldn’t see Dot. Still, I had a very good view of the percussionists. Concert was excellent.

Afterwards we called in for a quick drink with the Hendersons, during which Dot made the mistake of saying she liked the Russian piece. We were a bit late leaving, considering the clocks went forward and we lost an hour.

On Sunday I was preaching, and afterwards we had lunch with the Greens at the Woolpack Yard – a pub in Muspole Street. We booked, but it was almost empty. The menu was very brief, but the food was excellent. Then in the evening we decided to go to a concert at St Luke’s featuring the work of a local composer (“Before Pilate”) and Vicki Ellis on flute (not a solo, just part of St Gregory’s Orchestra). It was quite good, and again the church was packed.

Which brings us to Monday, when we decided to go and visit Jessie, who we hadn’t seen for a couple of months because we didn’t want to infect her. She was in good form, and she also had Janet visiting her. Afterwards we went to Sainsbury’s and then on to the cemetery and back via Wroxham because we’d noticed on the way out that the North Walsham road was closed. Couldn’t help noticing, really.

Yesterday Annette called round for a cup of tea, arriving just as Dot got back from one of her schools. Had quite a long talk, partly about Lisa, who seems to be having a hard time in Australia. She (L) had asked me to find out something to do with a church in Norwich that Blossom had heard on a Podcast, but despite trying hard, I couldn’t help. I think they may have got some details wrong.

In the evening we took Judy to Cake and Compline at the Archers, which was quite relaxing, in a hectic sort of way. Today it’s raining again, and I have to go to a meeting with the Archdeacon and the Rural Dean about the interregnum following the vicar’s departure on April 15. It’s not just the three of us: several others are coming from St Luke’s and St Augustine’s.

I managed to do the Norwich Paston walk on Tuesday, despite my ankle still being swollen and a very nasty shade of blue-black. In fact it wasn’t really very painful, just a bit sore. It was also a cold evening, but my new coat worked really well, and I wasn’t too uncomfortable. Meanwhile several of the City Guides who I was guiding abandoned before the end because of the cold. At least, that’s what they said. They were all very appreciative, though.

The guy who had fixed it all up – Paul Dickson – was ill (probably caught Rob’s virus); so I had to meet a group of people I didn’t know outside St Andrew’s Hall. From there, for the record, we went to St Peter Hungate, down Elm Hill, Past the Maid’s Head to Whitefriars Bridge, round the back of the Cathedral to the ruins of the Lady Chapel, then up to King Street and along to Heydon’s House, Dragon Hall and the Music House.

Earlier that day I had a blood test at the surgery, and yesterday I had a rare appointment with Dr Hampsheir, mainly to check the blood test and talk about my medication. I was amazed to discover that the blood test results were through (I’d had to postpone the test  because of earlier snow) and very good. My cholesterol level is fine, and my kidneys in much better condition than I’d been led to believe.

As I was there, I showed him my ankle, which didn’t seem to be making much progress and contained a large very black bruise. He examined it and said I should go up to A&E for an x-ray, which I did, being a compliant sort of guy. I was in A&E for two and a half hours, and the x-ray showed I had a small crack fracture at the bottom of that bone there – fibula, lateral malleolus; call it what you will. Plus a rather bad sprain. Happily, this didn’t require any drastic action: none at all, in fact. I could carry on walking, but nothing too extreme and on the flat.

Everyone in A&E was very friendly, except the woman on x-ray reception, but the reception to the minor injuries unit was shut, which confused everyone. There were instructions to put our card in the tray (which card? one or both?), and it would be picked up by a member of staff. I sat opposite it to make sure, and the member of staff turned up 45 minutes later, which as far as I was concerned was at least 35 minutes too late, raising anxiety to unnecessarily high levels. You don’t mind waiting if you think everyone is paying attention.

I got the bus home, but didn’t go upstairs. In the evening we went to an exhibition of Joe’s photographs in Colegate, which were as impressive as I thought they’d be. Phil and Joy were there too. It was Sam’s birthday. He was in Southampton. By the end of the evening I was exhausted, for some reason.

Last Saturday we went to a Norwich Philharmonic concert which featured Paul in the choir. It was snowing again, and because of my ankle we decided to drive up and park in the Monastery car park, grabbing one of the last couple of places. Strange concert. The first half lasted about 15 minutes and the second half (Mendelssohn) about an hour and a quarter. Judy was stewarding, and in the interval we met Sue and Roger Eagle, plus Maryta, who was sitting towards the back. Afterwards we drove to the Hendersons’ for a bite to eat.

On the Sunday I led the service, and Anna (back from India) led a lectio divina. Still very cold then. Quite warm now in comparison, but they say it’s going to get cold again, which I for one could do without.

Odd that I should have sprained my ankle while discussing Footprints. Strange that I sprained it at all, really, because I was inside a house and simply picking up my jacket from Lucy’s bed. In case of confusion, I should add that the meeting was held at Lucy’s house in Bowthorpe, and she has only just moved in. Hence the bed in the living room and a tight fit for the meeting, which also included Rob Knee and Peter Stibbons.

To make it worse, two people arrived to install Broadband in the middle of the meeting, and immediately discovered the main problem: no aerial. There were other problems involving a robbery at Mundesley Post Office and the loss of a package containing equipment, but when you know Lucy, that’s not surprising.

Anyway , the ankle was very painful and considerably swollen. When I got home Dot attacked it with ice, and by this morning it had gone down quite a bit, though it’s still very uncomfortable. Bit worrying, too, because I’m supposed to be leading a 90-minute Paston walk on Tuesday.

The meeting, which was actually for PHS Trustees, was a bit tense, with Lucy as usual having different ideas to everyone else. Still, there were biscuits, and it was warmer. Today it’s very cold again, and I’m shivering in my study while Dot is shivering at Carrow Road.

There was another meeting at the Maid’s Head on Thursday, involving myself, Rob, Paul Dickson and Georgina, who I gather is something to do with sales at the hotel. This was a good meeting, with everyone singing from the same hymn sheet and some excellent ideas about how the Maid’s Head can get involved in Paston celebrations.

It was nice to have a bit of warmth in the air, especially as we had our hair cut on Tuesday, but now it’s snowing, though it doesn’t appear to be lying. A bit of summer would be nice: I see the clocks go forward next week.

By the way, at the Bowthorpe meeting Peter delivered me my copy of the de luxe Paston Treasure book produced by Yale. Impressive, and only £45. With discount.

It’s that time of year. My youngest brother is 66 today, my father died yesterday (1956), and my mother died tomorrow (1994). Not very nice for Phil to have his birthday framed in such a way, but when we saw him and Joy yesterday they looked pretty well, all things considered. Spent an hour or so chatting after delivering presents.

We ourselves can’t shake off our virus, which we’ve had for about a month. Both still have a cough and feeling very tired and heady: I had to go to bed this afternoon after spending about an hour and a half at lunchtime washing up for the Monday Club lunch at church – about 40 takers altogether. We were only able to go because we’d had to cancel our trip to Kristine and David’s in Leyton to avoid the risk of infecting them. I don’t think we’d infect people with normal immune systems, but David has an auto-immune disease on top of his ataxia.

After lunch we went to the supermarket, which probably finished me off. Watched a TV programme, discovered I had slept through half of it and so went and lay down on the bed for just over an hour. Felt better after that, but haven’t done much else.

Went to church yesterday. Phil was leading, with Liz doing Godly Play on Mother Julian (Mothering Sunday).  Quite a long chat afterwards with Phil and Judy about the imminent interregnum and who will be able to do what.

On Thursday took my iPhone in for a new battery, which took about a couple of hours altogether. Had to wait around the mall without being able to do anything. Didn’t want to walk anywhere, because it wouldn’t have registered (!); couldn’t phone anyone up, or play games or check my family’s whereabouts. Or anything else really. Strange how you  come to depend on mobile phones. Delighted that phone now charges properly. Again, odd how pleasing this is.

The weather has turned much milder, but it ‘s still very rainy. Haven’t done much walking, because I was pretty exhausted after my one attempt, and it’s probably not a good idea to tire yourself out after having a virus.

Almost forgot. We went see Three Billboards Outside of Ebbing, Missouri on Saturday evening, and I thought it was really excellent. Brilliant script and plenty to think about. The plot is totally unpredictable. Afterwards we ran into my former colleague Sandra Kessell (formerly Frazer) and her husband Toby.

We did go to Wales. A thaw set in late on Saturday as forecast, and the school contact in Barry thought things would be OK by Monday; so no postponement. Fortunately Dot was feeling better by Sunday morning. I still had a cough (and still do), but went to church, as I was down to preach and lead the prayers. Happily I managed to get through this without succumbing to a fit of coughing, apologised to Eleanor for not being able to attend her installation as an Honorary Canon at the Cathedral in the afternoon, and drove home to pick up Dot.

We eventually got on the road by about 12.50pm and had an excellent journey, stopping only once to change drivers. The roads were no problem and quite empty of traffic. As we got into Wales, there was a lot of snow in the countryside – quite spectacular. We arrived around 5.30pm at Gail’s Guest House and met Barbara. Nice room. Side roads in town still very snowy. We all went to find the school, which we did eventually, and then had a meal at  Brewer’s Fayre.  Later I went for a walk round local streets and got some excellent views out across the Bristol Channel. Many of the roads were circular, and I was surprised to arrive back near the guest house from the opposite direction, before retracing my steps.

Not a particularly good night’s sleep. Had breakfast immediately after the others left, paid and negotiated a late checkout for noon. Had a shower, then went and filled the car up at Asda (card only) before bringing it back, parking nearer the guest house and putting the luggage back into it. Had a chat with woman who was cleaning the rooms. I originally asked her if she was Gail, but apparently Gail is dead. She was Marian – very lively and easy to talk to.

Eventually I left, drove around for a bit and then parked at the top of the hill before walking along the clifftop, until I had a view of the main beach. Then I walked back on a lower path, which eventually reached a fairly secluded beach. I crossed it, then walked back on a path up the cliff to a point I had found the previous night  – only a couple of hundred yards from where I’d parked the car..

Drove down to Asda again to buy a sandwich and go to the loo, then returned to the same road, which had a nice view of the sea, and ate it. The sandwich, not the sea. Weather had deteriorated, with quite a bit of rain, but in a dry gap I walked round for a bit , then helped a guy who had got stuck in the snow at a nearby roundabout. Gave him a bit of a push and showed him where he could find a spade. Found a £10 note in the snow.

Eventually drove back to Asda again and at 2.45 found myself parked outside the school. The dynamic duo emerged at 3.10, armed with excellent feedback. Apparently, however, the school had been very cold. We drove (in convoy) back to Asda again to have a drink and go through the feedback, then left for home – and a much worse journey than the one the previous day.

Very bad hold-up on the way to the M4 (caused by traffic lights on a roundabout), then lots of rain. Dot drove as far as services on the M5, then I drove as far as Corley services on the M6, where we got a Kentucky Fried Chicken from a guy who seemed as if he had only recently been introduced to the concept.

I continued driving to Cambridge Services, where we stopped. The weather improved, but the A11 was blocked at Thetford, and we had to follow a diversion through Shropham. Just what you want after a journey of nearly 300 miles. At home we managed to get everything out of the car before collapsing into bed.

I went to the Archant coffee morning this morning (all present and correct) but felt exhausted. Dot was too tired to come. We went to the supermarket in the afternoon, and Dot roused herself to watch Norwich City draw 0-0 with Nottingham Forest.

Just got Dot’s car in the garage in time. Neither of us went to church on Sunday because we still had bad coughs, and the next day it started snowing. Still Dot managed to drive to Brooke before it started, to take part in interviews for a new head. She was still pretty bad and had to come home early in the afternoon because of excessive coughing. I walked up to Morrisons to get in some supplies.

By then it had started snowing. Not too much that day, but very cold. On Tuesday Dot drove to Brooke again, to find the school shut, but eventually everyone turned up to continue the interviews – in fact only one candidate had been asked back, and he got the job. Dot is optimistic about him. II walked up to Swinton to renew our car insurances – got it reduced a bit – then diverted through the Close because it was sunny and quite pleasant, as well as picturesque. As I was doing so I got a call from Dot, who was about to come home at the end of the interviews.

That night and the next day it snowed a great deal, and we ended up with about a foot of snow. I walked down the shop in the afternoon, which was easy enough and the main roads were clear, but hardly any traffic and no buses.

Today much of the snow remains, and more is threatened. Very cold. Dot is quite a lot better, but I still have a cough, which is very annoying. I was supposed to walk up to the Maid’s Head this morning for a meeting with Paul Dickson and Rob Knee, but Rob could not get out of North Walsham: snowdrifts on roads, no buses and no trains. So we postponed the meeting. Dot and I checked Des’s house, which seems fine. He is in New Zealand.

I cancelled my blood test tomorrow, because it sounds as if things may be worse again. Could probably get car out, but it might be difficult to get it back again. Dot still doesn’t know if she’s going to Wales, but it’s very bad there at the moment and will probably be worse tomorrow. We’re rather hoping they’ll call it off.