The weather is still very warm, and it was particularly warm on Wednesday, when Dot and I travelled to Leyton for David Coomes’ funeral. David (Lenton!) also came: we met at the cemetery.

The Requiem Mass was a little strange, but the highlight was three Leonard Cohen songs played instead of hymns: You want it darker, Anthem and If it be your will. Couldn’t have been more appropriate. The chapel was full and included such broadcasting “names” as Michael Buerk, Michael Portillo and David Starkey. No wonder the priest looked nervous. All three wives were there, but the first two were not mentioned in the eulogy. I thought Anne might have been hurt by this, but amazingly she wasn’t. Not sure what Jennie thought.

This was followed by a hot, dusty and longish walk to the burial plot, where I chatted with Kristine’s family and Jane’s, and then a longer walk to a pub on Leyton High Street for the wake, which was attended by a large number of people. I saw David Starkey talking to Jane, which must have been interesting. I spent some time talking to Deborah, a friend of Kristine’s who had never actually met David but had got to know Kristine through cancer treatment. Also had a long chat with Kristine herself.

Some very nice food and wine, and we left just after 3pm to catch the 3.30pm from Liverpool Street. Unfortunately I forgot the funeral sheets and newspapers and had to go back for them, which resulted in our catching the train with roughly ten seconds to spare. We had come down on the 8.30 from Norwich, which got us to the cemetery via the Central line in good time. David got there in good time too, despite a train cancellation.

The previous day I attended the Archant coffee morning. Dot was at a school, as was Paul (not the same school), but the rest of the usual suspects were present, including Maryta. Afterwards I had my glasses tightened. Later still Dot and I had our hair cut, and in the evening we watched England beat Colombia on penalties in the World Cup, which just goes to show.

On Thursday I attended a meeting of the trustees and re-enactors of the Paston Heritage Society. This promised to be quite fraught, as Lucy had had to be dissuaded from coming, and two or three of the re-enactors were quite angry at the way she’d been treated (or allegedly treated) by the UEA and the Footprints project manager. I had fielded long calls from Ruth, Diana and Lucy herself.

During the meeting, however, it became clearer what had happened – Lucy just couldn’t deal with the requirements of the project manager, and there was a big personality clash resulting in her resigning and almost simultaneously being asked to depart (from the project). The re-enactors were reassured that Lucy was still part of the PHS and they and she could work on projects not formally part of Footprints. We’ll see how that goes.

In the last couple of days my proud walking record had fallen by the wayside. I completed 37 days of walking over 5000 steps a day, and in the last couple of days have walked far fewer than 5000 in total, partly because my knee was feeling a bit odd, but mainly because I was very tired. Still am, actually. I keep waking up just after 6am for no apparent reason.

Am writing this at shortly after 5am, because I can’t sleep. So much going on recently, and now Dot’s computer has run out of memory; so she can’t use it. I’ve been trying to work out how to solve the problem, but we may have to go to the Apple store later. This after another hectic weekend, and a busy couple of days coming up.

On Thursday last week I went up to Hungate to see a performance by Paston students of their self-written, self-produced take on the early Paston Letters. Rob and Penny were there, as was Matt. It was really very well done, with plenty of song and dance, and not too long. Pitifully small audience, though.

On Saturday we eventually found Barningham Hall, which is not in Barningham but Matlaske. Following verbal directions from Rob, we went straight to the right entrance, but it was unmarked and looked so unlikely that we rejected it, but we eventually came back, and gave it a shot. Needless to say, it was right.

The Hall, owned by the Courtaulds, is the only Paston house still standing in its original form. It was built by Edward in 1612. We were there for a Musical Celebration by the Cantilena Choir in the nearby Barningham Winter church, to mark its restoration. Beforehand we had drinks and nibbles in the “sun” outside the hall, but although the front of the hall was bright and warm, the side where we gathered was in shade and quite breezy. Still, a nice experience. Rob, Penny and and Peter were there. We sat in the gallery in the church.

The next day we went to church and then in the afternoon to North Walsham, where Dot’s “aunt” Sheila was celebrating her 90th birthday with a rather nice afternoon tea at the Roman Catholic church hall. Obviously we knew very few people there except Sheila herself and her daughters Teresa (who organised it) and Bridget, but we had a good time. Even the singsong at the end wasn’t too bad, and included The Fields of Athenry. 

We left a bit early to drive to Blakeney, where we picked up a shirt I had left at the hotel and had an ice cream. Then we returned to North Walsham for an evening concert at the church, where we were VIP guests (again with Rob, Penny and Peter). This was a Paston-themed concert by the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment, who I have to say were absolutely brilliant. It featured a new pocket oratorio (Agnes) by a Norfolk composer, Sarah Rodgers. Soprano Julia Doyle was accompanied by the church choir, and that was really good too. Plenty of Handel, a bit of Mozart and Purcell, and some other music. I have rarely enjoyed a concert more.

Yesterday the Mazda 3 went in for a service (no problem), and Dot took me into town to buy a couple of pairs of trousers. Bus both ways, because it was pretty hot, and my knee was giving me a bit of trouble. No idea what’s caused it. In the evening we had a PCC meeting, preceded by meeting our new vicar, Sarah Quantrill, who seems very pleasant. The meeting itself was well chaired by Sue Pittam-Smith but largely concerned such tedious matters as safeguarding , solar panels and parish shares. I guess that’s what PCCs are all about.

Pause for breath. Have just arrived home from Blakeney, and Dot is about to leave for Brooke school, where she is sitting in on Ofsted feedback. Earlier we had lunch at Cookie’s, which was preceded by a short walk down to Salthouse beach, in the course of which we stumbled upon a geocache. As you do.

On the coast it’s a bit cooler than it has been but the previous two days were  especially warm, and I had to have suncream applied before we went for two longish walks – from Holkham to Wells (Monday) and from Burnham Overy Staithe out to the distant beach (Tuesday). On Monday we had lunch at the rather upmarket Beach Café, then walked round town for a bit before getting the Coasthopper back to Holkham. On Tuesday we drove to Burnham Deepdale for lunch, having had early coffee/tea at The Hero. Excellent Deepdale sandwich, but very sore eyes, presumably because of pollen.

We had arrived at Blakeney quite late on Sunday, after my preaching at church and then watching England beating Panama 6-1. Should have been more, but they lost interest in the second half, and so did we. Hamilton won the French grand prix and England completed a one-day whitewash against Australia, but we missed all that.

Back to the biggest day of a very big week, which was the celebration of our Golden Wedding on Saturday at Angela and Rodney’s house. The weather was perfect – sunny and warm but not too hot, and so were the surroundings. The guests were also delightful: David, Oliver and Amy; Denise and Peter; Anne and Philip (on crutches because of a recent fall on holiday); Fred and Sue; Jessie, Roger and Debbie; Dave and Julia; Alan and Rosemary; Donna and Andy; Phil and Joy; plus Vicki and Chris Ellis off and on.

We had a great time, and I think everyone enjoyed it. Admittedly it was over a month early (our wedding anniversary is July 27), but we will be in Canada then. I gave a short speech, and Fred a much more interesting one, borrowing from Gilbert and Sullivan. Having forgotten to tell everyone not to bring gifts, we also received some nice presents.

Fred was also in fine G&S form the previous day, which was a CNS Reunion event, starting at the Louis Marchesi for a very good lunch and continuing at St Mary at Palace Plain for a fascinating talk by Geoff Tudor, who has been living in Japan for 40 years, followed by Fred’s account of his life, which included a number of G&S extracts with assistance from other old boys and Bev McInnes, who is Sue’s cousin and a colleague of Dot (violin) at Sillars. In this case she sang and played piano, though most of the latter was done by Andrew Barnell. Would like to have heard more G&S: most songs were cut short.

Thursday was big day too, because at 7.45am my old friend David Coomes died. I received the news while walking with Dot and the Evetts from Bakery and towards the Wiveton Fruit Farm and cafe. By the time I had finished talking to a very distraught Kristine, the others (blissfully unaware) had entered the cafe and were about to order lunch.

After lunch we continued to Cley and looked at the house Dot had booked for October, when David and the children will be coming up for part of half term. We now know that they will also be going to Canada next month and will be coming back with us while David stays on. He will also be arriving earlier than them: they will travel on their own, having been delivered to Gatwick by their mother.

After all this, we arrived back in Norwich in time for me to go to a book launch at NRO, where I chatted with the publisher; the director of NRO, who I know reasonably well; and Joseph Mason, who writes a blog about Norfolk and Suffolk which I often read and sometimes comment on. As a boy, he lived near my grandmother at Poringland. His wife Molly is friendly with the wife of one of the photographers at the EDP in times past – Dennis Whitehead.

Popped up to Hungate on Saturday to meet the Knees and deliver some copies of the Paston Footprints books for sale there while the exhibition is on. Hardly anyone there, but volunteer Brendan said there had been quite a few: the exhibition is open every Saturday and Sunday.

Had a cup of tea with the Knees afterwards, and another one with the Hendersons in the afternoon. We sat in the garden: neither of them seemed very well – Paul is on antibiotics for a chest infection, and Maryta appeared to have a cold, which was rather worrying. Dot baked a cake, because she knew they were coming.

On Sunday we had an experimental  Communion with Liz C and Liz D. Dot and I sang one of my songs during the actual Communion (Hear my cry), and I got some nice reaction from Liz C and Jenny, who hadn’t heard it before.  Chris and Ray weren’t there, although Chris seems to be recovering very well from her major operation in London last weekend.

In the evening we went to St Luke’s for a performance by the Oriole Singers and St Gregory’s Orchestra of a Schubert Mass and a cantata called The Road to Emmaus by local composer Peter Cresswell, who was present. Audience not as big as for his Christmas work, but actually this was much better: some good tunes and good soloists. Vicky was on flute.

More culture on Monday, which we spent at Snape and Aldeburgh, starting with lunch at the Crown Inn, Snape, with Howard, Anna and Penny, and continuing with a remarkable performance by Michael Barenboim on violin at Aldeburgh church. We had unreserved seats, but a really good view from the side aisle. Two Bach pieces and Bartok excellent: two modern pieces rather less so, unless you were fascinated by violin technique.

Afterwards Dot and I returned to Snape for a walk and a look at an exhibition of drawings of cathedrals in charcoal, with which I wasn’t particularly impressed. We sat not far from Michael Barenboim for tea in the Maltings cafe, then raced back to Norwich to catch most of the England-Tunisia World Cup game. Quite frustrating until we scored in the last few minutes.

Speaking of racing, our grandchildren did superbly well in their school races: Amy won her 800 metres, about which she had been worrying, and Oliver won his 800m and 1500m. Obvious where they get it from. 🙂

Even more culture yesterday, when we travelled to Oxnead with Judy to watch a performance of Robert Paston’s  Whirlpool of Misadventures in the hall grounds. I don’t know what I expected, but it was brilliant, starting in the main banqueting room and moving all round the grounds, including the church. Everything about it was top class: the direction and script, the acting and singing. It was put together by Holly Maples, an American, who I knew from a volunteers’ event earlier in the year. She was responsible for the script and direction, some of the acting and some excellent singing. I congratulated her afterwards, and we also had a word with some of the other actors after we’d had half a cider in the bar (orangery). All very clever – the audience were drawn into it instead of standing (or sitting) separate all the time.

So going to Jurnet’s in the evening was a bit of an anti-climax. I never really feel at ease there, but there was some good poetry from Sue Burge – a bit of local celebrity. There was also some pretty bad poetry. Hilary performed an excellent one about being in love with the sea, and I was astonished to find that almost no-one seemed to have heard of sculptor and jazz musician David Holgate (I read Never going away, which is dedicated to him). I also read Distant funeral, then walked home. Meanwhile, Dot was picking up our golden wedding cake from Marion’s.

This morning, after I dropped off Dot for an x-ray on her knee at the hospital, I drove to the chemist for a renewed prescription and dropped off a GDPR form at the printers.

It’s been quite warm over the last few days. On Sunday I had to lead the service after Carrie found she’d double-booked herself and needed to be at the Cathedral. (We’ve all been there.) Howard, making a rare visit, preached on end-of-life revival, in a manner of speaking. Very good, anyway. In the afternoon Dot and I decided to drive to Bacton to see Lucy’s Open Studio, but she wasn’t there; so we had a nice time talking to her colleague, Jo Arnold, whose house it was. Bought one of her small sculptures for £30.

Afterwards we parked near the beach and walked along the top towards Walcott. It was high tide, with waves splashing over the prom. Later we called at Happisburgh and went to the loo, but couldn’t go for a walk there as we had no coins for the parking meter.

On Monday afternoon we decided on the spur of the moment to buy me some new clothes. Our quest started badly at Jarrolds but ended successfully at M&S, where I ended up with a new suit and a jacket. We then went to Skechers in the mall, and I bought two pairs of shoes. Dot bought one (pair, not shoe). We were served by an excellent assistant, who made me want to buy the whole store, but I resisted.

On Tuesday morning I had my tooth out. I’m glad it’s gone: it had been irritating me more and more for several months, possibly years. It had a great chunk of gold on the top of it; so I am now worth slightly less. Still, I have the tooth. No bad after-effects, but I didn’t feel up to going to a talk on the dead sea scrolls, which I had pencilled in for the evening.

Yesterday we took the MX5 in for a service and MOT, and I was pleasantly surprised when it emerged unscathed, but with new windscreen wipers.  It was due to be collected at 5pm, but we left it overnight and picked it up just after 11 this morning. Last night, while Dot was at orchestra, I went to the launch of three poetry pamphlets at Anteros, at which the only person I knew was Hilary Mellon, the compere. The poetry was pretty ordinary, and I told Hilary afterwards that hers was far better. So is mine, actually. Obviously I wouldn’t say that to just anybody.

This afternoon I popped into the city to buy some Communion wafers, because the ones at church had gone missing. I lingered by the Cathedral green so as not to exert myself too much (because of the tooth extraction) and resisted the temptation to buy an ice cream. Dot and I are on a 5:2 diet, which means we don’t eat much on two days out of five. I have lost a bit of weight…

It’s been cooler the last couple of days. Yesterday we drove out to Beeston Regis to visit Fred and Sue at their caravan, and the north-east wind made that area much chillier than inland. Nevertheless after a chat we went for a short walk, and later drove to East Runton to have a meal at a Greek restaurant. The food was pretty good, and this was followed by Greek music and a lot of audience participation, during which I kept my head down on the pretext of taking a video of it.

Today we were up at the church hall shortly after 10.30am to help with a kind of spring clean. I didn’t do a great deal except sort out the noticeboard, put up a couple of mirrors, return some vases to the church and quite a bit of dish-drying. Oh, and a bit of moving stuff about. It was nice to be with people from both church and Monday Club.

Over the last few days I’ve written three new poems, two of which I sent off to a competition. I sent another new one to another competition a couple of weeks ago, but I’m not going to make a habit of it. It just seemed the right thing to do. Flawed Beauty and Chasing the Moon went to the Crabbe competition, and Background Music to Bridport. The first one was based on a sermon by Eleanor, the second was about my father and the third was rather gloomy.

I have got round to doing something about my teeth: I went to the dentist on Thursday, and he decided (with my agreement) to take out one of my back teeth at the top. This is scheduled for next Tuesday. Meanwhile I am on antibiotics. My pharmacist disagreed with my hairdresser and said it would be perfectly OK to stop taking statins; so I am doing that, in an attempt to stop coughing. I seem to be a bit better, but I have bad moments.

I checked with the garage about a warning light on my car, and it turns out it’s nothing to worry about: so I’m not worrying about it. Apparently it’s just there to remind me to book a service, which I’d already done. You can have too many warning lights.

Just back from Anne Travis’s funeral at the old church. Dot, Phil and I played the hymns, Dot read a poem and I read from the Bible. Liz Cannon took the service. I felt it went really well – Dot was able to help Chris Denton with reading out her daughter’s tribute to her grandmother, and Andy (Chris’s brother) spoke emotionally about his mother. Refreshments afterwards in the hall, organised by Carrie and Sophie. Sunny day, too, although the chilly wind has returned.

Before that I walked up to the Archant coffee morning. Robin, Brian and spouses were there (Brian not too well), and Maryta came on her own because Paul has a chest problem. I have had a mouth and throat problem over the last few days (well, more like weeks, but it was particularly bad yesterday). I see that statins can give you throat and nose problems: so I may try to ease off them. I was warned against this by Linda, our hairdresser; so I may consult our pharmacist.

While Linda was here yesterday, Luke the electrician, who lives just over the road, came over and put in a number of new sockets, as well as fixing the oven light. We now have a number of extension cords going spare, but the place looks much neater. New sockets under my study desk, in the kitchen by the door, in the shower room (waterproof) and in the garage (quite a complex job involving the bending of pipes). Hey ho. Rather an odd day all round.

On Sunday I led the service, and Eleanor preached a good sermon on flawed beauty that reminded me of Leonard Cohen (“There’s a crack in everything; that’s how the light gets in”), only the other way round. Afterwards we cleaned up the old church in preparation for today’s funeral, and had a light lunch before driving out to see Jessie.

Saturday was a big day as far as Dot was concerned, because it was the Sillars proms concert at St Peter Mancroft. Although the day was dark and damp, there was an excellent attendance, including Des and Chris, Anne and Philip, the Hendersons, Angela, Rodney and Vicki, David and Bridget and Robin and Shelagh. The orchestra played very well: good acoustics, too. Earlier I had gone with Dot to pick up a music stand from the church hall, and for some reason I can’t work out (it made sense at the time), she dropped me at the far end of Silver Road, so that I could walk home while she returned a defective rose to the garden centre in Sprowston. We arrived home at exactly the same time.

The previous day we went to Caddington to see David, Oliver and Amy, but got delayed on the journey down by resurfacing work. Nevertheless, we had a good time with them: I managed a short walk, Amy did some baking with Nana and David took Oliver for a swim. David is now in Canada.

On Thursday I watered Phil’s flowers for the second time (he is now back from Southampton), and the day before I did a short walk at Blofield, checking on whether certain places could be accessed (they couldn’t). Not doing badly with my steps: May was the best month since last August.

The weather has turned more appealing – mainly dry and a nice degree of warmth, though it’s rather dull today.  Elsewhere – the West Midlands, Kent and East London, for example – there has been a huge amount of rain and flash flooding, which just goes to show. Dot is upstairs practising religiously for her concert this Saturday, to which an unprecedented number of friends are coming. Phil and Joy are in Southampton, which also goes to show.

On Saturday we travelled widely – well, we took a train to Stowmarket, where I participated in the Suffolk Poetry Festival, reading for Pinky’s. I read Angel’s Wings, Layers, Aldeburgh and Beyond the Stars, though not particularly well. We were on first, and people hadn’t settled down; so there was not much audience response. I was also aware that time was limited, and we had started late. Ah, well. Stayed to listen to some other poems, some of which were very good. Caught the 15.55 back to Norwich in order to have something to eat before walking up to Hungate for the launch party at 6pm.

Quite a good attendance, though I suspect that most were from the UEA. I didn’t know most of them, but @littlemsautumn was there, as was Karen, and of course Rob and Penny, plus Dale, the Pilches, Sophie and of course the project manager, who was serving drinks but no nibbles. The place looked pretty good, but there were one or two errors on the boards, which I didn’t mention to Matt (the project manager).

On Sunday I preached at church, and we spent most of the afternoon watching the Monaco grand prix, not because it was exciting, but because we wanted Ricciardo to hang on and win with his underpowered car. He did.

We spent much of the rest of the weekend and Monday morning sorting out pictures to be used in our Golden Wedding celebration at Angela’s. In the afternoon we went to Angela’s and discussed details, then went for a meal at the George. We all had fish and chips, which I paid for. Delicious meal, but with repercussions, namely a bad night. Still don’t really know what’s wrong with my throat.

Dot spent most of yesterday in the city choosing a dress for the Golden Wedding. In the end she bought two – very nice, IMHO. Meanwhile I was attempting to sort out the rest of the photographs (limited success) and choose some music for the Golden Wedding. I also walked up to Phil’s to water his flowers, and spoke to Des and Mary. In the evening Bridget drove us to Cake and Compline at Jude’s. David turned up late on his scooter, having prioritised his choir; Vicky was in Spain; and Claire was somewhere else. Everybody has to be somewhere (Spike Milligan).

On Monday we had a DCC meeting at our house, at which we were told that Anna would like to join. Later I learnt via e-mail from Howard that Elwira was already a member, though no-one knew anything about it, and she wasn’t on the list approved at the annual parochial church meeting – thus she didn’t know about Monday’s meeting. Later still I discovered (again via Howard) that Debbie also wants to be a member. I think I may come off the DCC, because non-members are soon going to be the more select group, and it will be less hassle.

On Tuesday Dot and I went to hear Barb Jungr sing some Bob Dylan songs. She sounds German but is in fact English and has a superb voice, as well as a good stage presence. She was supported by keyboard and bass, and there was a strong jazz feel to the evening – which started at 10pm and took place in the Spiegeltent on Chapelfield Gardens. The Spiegeltent is a feature of the Norfolk and Norwich Festival and is half large tent, half pub. We managed to get seats by a small table and bought a half of cider each.

The set lasted about 75 minutes and was really enjoyable, starting with a great version of Times Have Changed and ending with an even more brilliant version of Chimes of Freedom. Pleasant walk home through an empty city.

Yesterday the weather broke and it rained, though paradoxically it was probably warmer. Before it rained I walked up to see Phil and Joy, because they are off for a week with Sam and Lucy (travelling as I write) and wanted me to water their flowers. Later we went to our third Festival event – this time walking up in the company of Des and Chris until we lost them in the Cathedral.

This time it was a Three Choirs event, with the choirs from Ely, Peterborough and Norwich cathedrals performing a number of items that all sounded very similar but extremely well done, accompanied mainly by an organ and a harp. I think Dot liked it, but for me this is the kind of music that is enjoyed mainly by the people producing it – and of course by the parents whose children were in the choirs. We had a couple of them in front of us: the woman tried various positions to get a good view of her son, including two different chairs and the stones by one of the fonts. I don’t blame her – she was quite fun to watch, and you couldn’t see much of what was happening at the front.

More chilly wind – this time at Cromer. No rest for my respiratory tract, which shows little sign of getting its act together. We popped down to the resort after church to put in an appearance at the Crab and Lobster Festival, not through any great love of shellfish but because there was a Paston tent. Most of the action there had been yesterday, but we did manage to catch Peter Stibbons (alias Admiral Clement Paston) in full costume, plus Pat Dawson in a calf-length robe which didn’t seem quite right somehow. Still, because she is from Yorkshire she managed to pull it off – if you see what I mean.

While we were there we made a length of rope (you never know when a length of rope is going to come in handy), bought a driftwood owl and a few other items and had a chat with Keith Skipper and his wife. Amazing how often Keith and I run into one another, given that he lives in Cromer and I don’t. The sun was warm, but the north-east wind was very cold. On the way back we found a restaurant called Rocky Bottoms which has been on Dot’s mind for some time after someone recommended it to her, and we had a brief meal (whitebait and goat’s cheese) before heading home.

Earlier Chris Denton had called into church after the service to talk about Anne’s funeral, and this continued for some while, including a visit to the old church with Howard and Carrie. Anne has left us a gift of a painting of St Augustine’s Church which is really rather good.

On Saturday we drove to Caddington to celebrate David’s 46th birthday. Amy and Oliver are engaged in revision for exams, but we manage to distract Amy slightly with the Royal Wedding (brilliant sermon) while David was fetching Oliver from football practice. He was wearing his Norwich City kit and had scored a few goals – he seems to be a bit of a star. We knew that, of course. Later we watched the Cup Final, much to Amy’s disgust, but before that I went for a walk on my own and discovered a path over a field and into Folly Wood. Quite enjoyable. Lovely food supplied by David; cake by Dot.

Friday was actually David’s birthday. Joe Logan came round and tuned the piano (£88), and later I went to Halesworth. A bit earlier than usual, so that I could pop in and catch Sarah Cannell’s PV at Halesworth Gallery. Very colourful, and she seemed pleased to see me. I emerged to find a crowd gathered outside Pinky’s that turned out to consist entirely of poets wanting to get in. However, for reasons unknown the proprietor failed to turn up, and eventually Sue (not the one in the picture) popped into the Swan Inn round the corner and arranged a room there for us to meet in.

This worked quite well – a bit more spacious – though there were several complaints from the usual suspects about the light not being good enough. Fate decreed that I was positioned, for the second time in five days, to follow the Beowulf lady, who does about ten or twelve minutes of Anglo-Saxon poetry to the beat of a drum. Better than it sounds, actually. I did three poems – From a Distance, Before and After, and Black Cat – which were quite well received, especially the first and last.

The previous day Dot and I went to hear Mary Chapin Carpenter and her band at the Theatre Royal – part of the Norfolk and Norwich Festival. She was on top form, and was preceded by Emily Barker, who was equally brilliant, though without The Red Clay Halo. Instead she had Lukas Drinkwater on bass and a number of other instruments, though not simultaneously. Worth a watch here for a flavour. Great evening, made greater by running into James and Anne Knox Whittet in the bar.

Seems a long time ago, but last Tuesday we had the Eagles and Howard round for a meal. We had intended to have Anna too, and had indeed invited her, but at a fairly late date she discovered she was booked into Belper. At the last minute I discovered that Mary next door was on her own, so invited her to make up the six, and it worked pretty well. The Eagles and Howard were able to talk about India together (the original idea, as they had just returned from the sub-continent, as they say on Test Match Special), while – as well as joining in – we were able to talk to Mary about various other things.