Out of the blue, yesterday was stunning. Seeing a clear sky for a change from our bedroom window, Dot suggested we went for a walk, and I proposed Winterton, having seen a picture in the EDP  of the way a recent storm had affected the beach there. So we went, and the day was even better than it looked.

As well as the blue sky, there was practically no wind, and it was almost warm. After buying a parking ticket we walked down on to the beach and found a small cliff had appeared halfway down it. We walked south until we could access the lower beach easily, and then walked north for a good distance. The “cliff” was deepest close to the cafe, where some old stone blocks had been revealed. Further north, with the beach almost deserted, we turned back up on to the dunes and walked back to the cafe, where we had some delicious rolls and very good tea (in my case).

Later in the day  I walked up to a 20 Group private view at the Theatre Royal, where I spoke to Sarah Cannell, Martin Laurance, Sandra Rowley (an artist I worked with a few years ago), Peter Offord (a former Thorpe Hamlet Green councillor), and Chrissy Leech, a sculptor who turned out to live two roads away and have a studio in St Augustine’s. The pictures were of mixed quality, and I almost lost my scarf, but found it again.

It was hardly surprising that by the end of the day I found I had walked nearly five miles in all.

The previous day I did quite well at walking too, though the weather was pretty miserable. Dot and I went to the cinema at noon to see The Post, which was a stunning film about how the Washington Post defied threats from the Government to publish top secret papers about how the USA had made numerous catastrophic mistakes about the Vietnam war. It was extremely moving and made you wish that newspapers were like that now instead of rolling over and publishing any propaganda the Government wants them to.

As a newspaper person myself, it was also interesting to see how useless American newspapers are at layout and headline writing. I knew that, of course, but it was pretty striking. Anyway, the film is unmissable.

Later I walked Dot up to the Cathedral for a church schools event, during which she engaged the Bishop in interesting conversation about St Augustine’s and St Luke’s. Later I took the car up to the Close to meet her out, so that she could drive from there straight to orchestra rehearsal. I came close to forgetting her completely, because I didn’t hear the alarm go off.  Ho, hum.

Earlier in the week I had been busy writing bits about various Paston characters for the Hungate exhibition, just about managing to keep up my walking at the same time (well, not exactly at the same time). This was after celebrating Jessie’s 85th on Sunday, when we hurtled out of the service (which I had led) to drive to North Walsham to pick up Janet and Judy to transport them to the Banningham Crown and meet Jessie, Roger, Debbie, Philip, George and Fiona for a meal. Made it in good time, in fact, but the meal was a bit slow.

As so often, the starter and the dessert were excellent, but the main was not impressive, except in quantity. I had a game pie: the meat was OK, but the crust was soggy and the vegetables were a bit ropey. The garlic mushrooms beforehand, though, were superb. Must remember to have two starters instead of a main next time. The weather was wet and cold.

We went back to Jessie’s for a drink afterwards. She paid for the whole thing, which was very generous. She’s doing remarkably well after her operation.

Just back from a grey and drizzly North Norfolk, where I featured as Edward Paston (1550-1630) in a photoshoot for the current Paston Footprints project. The shoot was at Aylmerton, in a rather smart barn conversion, which is part of the property of an influential local businessman whose name I cannot reveal, partly because I’ve forgotten it. Most of the re-enactors were there, and so were Rob and Penny, Lucy and one or two others.

The shooting was done by Peter Stibbons and Paul Damen, the expert Paston-resident photographer. When I wasn’t being Edward Paston I was holding the sound boom or picking up Karen Smyth from Cromer station on Rob’s behalf. I also returned her to Norwich afterwards. Meanwhile Norwich City were being watched by Dot as they lost 2-1 to Sheffield United. Sic transit gloria…

I am managing to keep up a reasonable number of steps this month, despite having to do today’s largely indoors and yesterday’s in the freezing cold. In the evening yesterday I also went to Pinky’s where my three poems went down very well, especially a new one called Resolution, which I was quite pleased with because it benefited from being read out loud.

On Wednesday I picked up David Archer from the dentist. He himself can’t remember this, because he was heavily sedated while having an implant – so much so that the dentist had to guide him down to the car, precariously parked in Pottergate. I took him home and sat with him until Bridget got home just before 1pm. Read quite a bit: David was mainly asleep.

The previous day – Tuesday – rather unravelled, with cancellations and rescheduling, but we ended up having our hair cut at 10am (instead of 5.30pm) and welcoming Annette for a cup of tea about 3pm (instead of noon). This left the DCC, which was at our house instead of the vicarage, because the vicar was ill. Come to think of it, I haven’t heard much from him recently. Hope he’s not too bad.

The DCC consisted of Carrie, Dot, me and Phil, but it lasted about as long as it usually does, though it was more fun. I took the minutes and sent them out. I am now compiling some short pieces about various Paston characters for the Hungate exhibition.

David is going to Canada tomorrow: bit concerned because snow is forecast (in England). I’m leading the service and we’re then off to Banningham via North Walsham, taking Judy and Janet to Jessie’s birthday lunch.

Feeling rather strange at the moment. On Friday morning I was quite Ok, but in the afternoon developed bad cold symptoms, with lots of sneezing and nasal irritation. Nevertheless managed to finish the minutes from a meeting I’d been to on Thursday, and three Parish Pump items on Queen Mary, The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy and Wilfred Owen before walking with Dot up to the Côte Brasserie in Exchange Street to have a meal with the Greens which I probably should have cancelled.

Managed to struggle through it (it was very enjoyable off and on) and went home and to bed, well dosed up with various pills etc. Had a good night’s sleep and then slept till 2.15pm while Dot went to the supermarket. Felt quite a lot better; so got up and had a bath, then watched TV and had a meal which Dot cooked for me.

Last night I didn’t sleep so well, and this morning felt pretty mushy but without much in the way of my usual debilitating cold symptoms; so went to church with Dot and gave a sermon without too much trouble.  Did make the concession of not playing guitar. Nice service generally, but with a small congregation: Judy was ill at home with severe sickness. Missed a Martin Laurance exhibition at Mandell’s, but came home and watched some more TV. Now the cold doesn’t feel as if it’s gone completely, but it’s very quiet. Not sure if it’s a lull or it’s on the way out.

Dot completed her Welsh expedition successfully. The weather was pretty good and she felt well. The training was also much appreciated, and there’s a chance of a return visit. It was nice for her to stay with David the way there and have an afternoon with him on the way back. She arrived back in Norwich about 8.30pm on Tuesday. I had been doing a lot of catch-up on the computer and had written today’s sermon.

It was a pretty damp week, but we did venture out on Wednesday to watch All the Money in the World at the Odeon. A good film, with an excellent performance by Christopher Plummer as J Paul Getty – a last-minute replacement for Kevin Spacey, who blotted his copybook in the usual way by being outed as someone with unpleasant tendencies. Allegedly.

At 4pm on Thursday, when I was still feeling quite well, I went to a Footprints steering meeting at the Maid’s Head, where Lucy gave a presentation on her plans for the Hungate exhibition. Also present: Rebecca Pinner, who seems to have replaced the long-term sick Karen Smyth; Ron and Peter; Gary Tuson from the NRO; Sophie Cabot from Hungate; and Paul Dickson, a city guide and rock n roll singer representing the Maid’s Head, who want to get involved with Paston walks in Norwich and themed Paston weekends.

Paul greeted me warmly and knew a lot about my background, including a poetry performance at Welborne Arts Festival some years ago, and the fact that I trained journalists. As usual, I didn’t remember him, though we must have met before. Anyway, we shall probably be working together in the future if the Paston plan works out. After the meeting, I walked a short way with Rebecca before she headed off in the direction of Vauxhall Street.

Odd being without Dot. I should explain that she is in Wales, at a hotel in Brecon, not far from the school  where she will deliver a day of philosophy training with Barbara tomorrow. Last night she stayed with David at Caddington; she left there at about 11 this morning and arrived in Brecon, via the M25 and M4, at about 3pm.

This was about the time I arrived home from a walk at Caistor Roman Camp, where I had gone to look at the Tas valley flooding. It had nearly vanished, and I was able to go round the bits that were too wet and reach Dunston Field on the far side of the river. Bright, but very, very cold, and a small plague of dogs marred the beauty of the moment. I can only assume at some time in the past a huge number of people were unwittingly programmed to believe that you can only go for a walk in the country if you have a dog – preferably one that’s noisy and untrained.

Earlier of course I went to church and did the music with Anna, then enjoyed a sermon from Howard on the star that guided the wise men and how astronomy and computers backed it up. That was one of his points anyway. I slipped in one of my songs during communion (the Nunc Dimittis one), which was well received. Then David A dropped in and told us about his new job in Oldham, starting after Easter. I had two mince pies, because Dot wasn’t there to stop me. As she doesn’t read this, she will never know.

Yesterday Dot left at 1pm, and I went for a walk along the river and up into the city by a devious route, then found myself in Exchange Street and bought some acidophilus. Did more steps than I anticipated and was pretty flaked out the rest of the day. Watched Norwich City draw 0-0 with Chelsea in the Cup (BT TV), made myself lamb chops and then did a bit of computer work before flaking out and having a bath because I felt cold. From there, it was a short step to bed.

The previous day Dot and I had been to North Walsham, starting with Sainsbury’s and the cemetery, and then picking Jessie up outside the church, where she had attended a funeral. We bought some fish and chips in town and ate it at hers, followed by a mince pie. I felt quite full. I don’t know why.

The day before that (Thursday) I had picked up some pills from the chemist and was told I couldn’t have any more Lansoprazole because it shouldn’t have run out. I popped immediately round to the surgery and explained that the doctor had doubled my dose for a couple of weeks or three, and while we were in North Walsham I got a text saying they were ready at the chemist. So we called in on the way home after driving down the latest section of the Northern Distributor Road to open.

On Wednesday I had a reassuring eye test, which showed that I was pretty much the same as last time and had no signs of any long-term illness. Dot and I celebrated by going to the Rembrandt exhibition at the Castle, which was on its last week and where we tagged on to a tour, which started as we arrived. The drawings were amazing, of course, and as a bonus we ran into Stephanie Caine and Liz Cannon (separately).

Back on Tuesday, Dot had her debut as a member of a ceilidh band, provisionally called the Hippo Ceilidh Band for reasons not unrelated to St Augustine. The band consisted of Anna, Phil and Dot, with Carrie as caller. Not sure about the calling, but the music was good, and Ray and Christine really got into the dancing. I only saw the last hour or so, because I came to pick Dot up, after having dropped her off about 3.30pm for rehearsal. Quite a few local families there, and it seemed to be a big success. There was food too.

We slipped into 2018 during a delightful evening and early morning at the Robinsons – just the four of us with some salmon, champagne and other assorted goodies. Oddly I didn’t feel at all tired at any stage. We drove home at about 2pm and slept soundly.

Earlier in the day I went to church and struggled with some carols on guitar while Phil led the service. Dot stayed in bed because she was feeling down after coughing a lot in the night and sleeping very little. Carrie was “preaching’ in the sense that she was down for it on the rota, but misread the rota/forgot. So we had audience participation, followed by mince pies. And so St Augustine’s continues in much the same vein as always.

Highlights in the few days following Christmas were very much centred on time with son and grandchildren, who left after breakfast on the 27th, the male members of the party with colds. Maybe I shouldn’t have taken them for a walk in cold weather the previous day.

The 27th was bitter over much of the country, and the A14 in Leicestershire and Northamptonshire was blocked with snow. Nevertheless we drove along it to Coventry the following day without much trouble, and spent a bit of time with a quite perky Andrew. We gave him a large book with beautiful pictures and took him for a short walk because we wanted to call at Boots.

On the 29th we partook in another get-together of neighbours, this time at No 11 (Des and Chris), where we were introduced to the only top-of-the-road neighbours we didn’t know – Mary and her son Jamie (No 15). Mary teaches at a Montessori school up near the UEA, and Jamie is at university. He has three sisters who did not appear, and as far as I know, don’t live at 15. Spent some time in the kitchen talking to Bob, Jamie and Des.

The weather has been mixed, with the odd milder day but a lot of rain. The river has been running high in Norwich for the last few days, and there has been a huge amount of flooding in the Tas valley and around Costessey and Hellesdon, I believe.

We opened the new year, after waking late, by going to Norwich v Millwall at Carrow Road in the company of Des – because Jonathan was still ill and his friend Chris therefore couldn’t come either; so we had two spare tickets. Down 1-0 at half time, things looked a bit worrying, but City fought back to win 2-1 and should have scored more.

Before the match I returned Anne’s phone to Philip outside Yellows. Dot had brought it home  by mistake after the merrymaking. To be fair, it is identical to hers.

Lots to report, of course, it being the Christmas season. On a positive note, my back pain seems to have gone,  and the weather has been milder – though it’s now turning chilly again.

On the evening of the 19th we had our Christmas Cake and Compline, with everyone present, and a good time…etc. The next day Dot and I picked up Howard and Chris Denton and went to see Anne Travis. We did not pick up Phyllis because we couldn’t find her, and Howard was late; so we had to go back for him (having thought he might be at Phyllis’s). The traffic was pretty bad, but I found the optimum route through the city centre for a change, and we were only slightly late at the care home. Anne is more anxious and slightly less mobile, but was quite perky once she realised who we were.

David, Oliver and Amy arrived on Thursday, and we had a meal at Prezzo’s with Angela and Rodney, rescheduled slightly after Prezzo messed up the original booking by putting it on the wrong day. Very pleasant evening.

The next day was hectic, largely because we had been invited to the Hendersons’ for drinks and nibbles. Dot was already going to see Norwich play Brentford (they lost 2-1), and because Jonathan was ill we got two free tickets for Oliver and David. We went to see The Last Jedi in the afternoon (a brilliant film, highly recommended), and this left timings too tight for us all to see the Hendersons, given the near gridlock in the city. So Amy and I dropped in on them at about 8. By then most people had eaten and were sitting down; the two of us spoke to Philip and Heather Butcher, plus Terri and Keith, then gravitated into the other room, where we had a longish chat with Holly, then Paul for a bit, before heading home.

Saturday was hectic too. Dot and I went shopping in the morning to get food for lunch and for our evening At Home, attended by most of the neighbours and Mr and Mrs Robinson: Mairead, Freddie and Phoebe, Luke and Michelle, Mark and Sarah, and Des (Chris was ill), plus Sam, Chris and Ellie after S called in earlier in the day and found out about it. We scheduled it for 7-10 after the very late finish last year, and it worked well, the last people leaving at 11. I spent most of the evening pouring drinks, but Dot, David and Oliver did a lot of circulating. Amy was a little more reserved.

Sunday was our latest ever production of the Alternative Carol Service, and David, Oliver  and Amy all came, plus 16 others (including us). It went pretty well, and Eleanor and Liz Cannon were both particularly appreciative. Afterwards we supplied mulled wine and mince pies. Later in the day Roger and Debbie called in with the latest reports from Jessie, who still seems to be doing very well.

Amy got us off to a good start on Christmas Day  by waking us all just after 8am, and we had opened most of the parcels before breakfast. Had a lovely day altogether , with David and Dot doing most of the lunch between them. Later we watched The Man from Uncle, which was very good. Rang Andrew in the morning, and he seemed surprisingly perky. Phil was well enough to drive to Southampton with Joy, and they are spending a week there.

My walking stats are taking a bit of a hit, but you can’t have everything.

This morning we received a long e-mail from our vicar, giving the news that he will be leaving us, probably next Easter; so a new difficult interregnum is in prospect, especially as we have fewer resources than last time.

We’ve rearranged the study again now, so that the bed is wider for either David or Oliver. Quite effective really: Dot’s idea, of course. The weather is still cold, though there was a slightly warmer day yesterday. (I think it was yesterday.) Today we had our hair cut before I had a bath and then dropped Dot off in Magdalen Street to see Carrie B for lunch. After that I finished off the Alternative Carol service script and leaflet and walked to the dentist, who has adjusted my bite. Don’t ask. On the way home I bought some last-minute things for Oliver and Andrew.

A week ago, on Tuesday the 12th, we had our Canteen Christmas lunch, which was much better than the Holiday Inn official Christmas Archant lunch. The usual suspects were there, and because of where I found myself placed I spent some time talking to Janet, who I believe is Dennis’s husband. I don’t really know who Dennis is.

The next day , which was cold and wet, I went to Jack Gordon’s funeral at Earlham. No Brian (I presume he was not feeling too good), but Robin and Shelagh were there, plus Keith Skipper and his wife, Bill Woodcock, Graham Corney (photographer), someone called Ann who used to work on the Evening News, and of course Frank Gordon (Jack’s brother) and Jack’s wife Sylvia and his daughter Sally, who used to work as a subs’ runner. She is now a Californian and, judging by the accent, she has been for some time. Nice girl. Went to wake at the Garden House pub, near Phil’s.

In the evening we went to Sillars’ Christmas meal at the Blue Boar in Sprowston. It wasn’t really a Christmas meal, but a kind of buffet, with filled rolls and chips, among other things. Actually vey nice. We sat with Janet and Graham and someone called Peter, who plays trumpet, I think. Spoke to Penny for quite a while. Neville and Mary weren’t there because Mary had a headache, but quite a good attendance. Apparently Simon has had a row with the conductor and is leaving, at least for a while. Pity.

The next day Dot and I played at a Christingle for Year 6 of Angel Road school at St Luke’s Church. It wasn’t too bad, and the children were very well behaved as well as good-humoured.

On Saturday we were supposed to be carol-singing in the icy wastes of Anglia Square, but things got on top of us and we abandoned the idea so that we could fit in several North Norfolk visits, starting at Sheila’s where we encountered Bridgett, doing her hair. Had a good talk with her, and I can’t remember the last time that happened. Sheila seemed remarkably perky.

We then took some flowers to the cemetery and drove to Mundesley, where we called in on Lucy and had a couple of very nice biscuits from Lidl. She is not too bad, and we had a good chat, but Naomi is in a bad way. Lucy aims to move to Norwich to look after her.

Following this we dropped off the Paston magazines at Rob’s and visited Jessie, who again seems pretty well, and had a cup of tea and a bit of cake. As we’d missed lunch we bought fish and chips when we got back to Norwich.

This didn’t have the bad effect on my digestion that I thought it would, and I slept quite well, but halfway through the Christmas lunch at St Augustine’s the following day I got a really bad pain in my lower back, which hasn’t gone away, though it is better than it was.  Bizarre. The lunch followed Messy Christmas, organised by Carrie, which didn’t exactly go smoothly, but was OK. We didn’t get home much before 4pm.

Very cold: we’ve just rearranged the study (temporarily) so that I can feel the heat from the radiator. Before that I’d written this month’s three articles for Parish Pump and had cold hands. Happily Dot’s meeting at Brooke was cancelled, because when I went to get the Paston magazines from the printer, I found road conditions very bad: extremely wet and with snow threatening.  No snow has actually appeared yet, which I guess is a good thing, though not pretty. A dark and unpleasant day.

It’s been cold and wet for a long time, actually. Last Thursday was the Archant pensioners’ dinner at the Holiday Inn at the airport, well known for its gastronomical delights. Dot had to go to Thurton in the morning and was late getting back; so I was picked up by Brian and Tricia in the pouring rain. We got there in good time, and I made myself useful on arrival by going into Reception and reporting that the barrier was stuck down; the mechanic rushed out and freed the lengthy queue.  Dot – who was scheduled to have a meal in the cafe next door with Tricia and Shelagh – was rather delayed, but she got there in the end.

Our meal was not distinguished (as opposed to Dot’s) and the wine minimal; fewer diners than usual too, though Martin Throssell turned up. I sat with Brian and Robin and next to a guy called Tim Nelson, who worked in the machine room and had had a botched spinal operation. I wonder if there will ever be any more – Christmas lunches, I mean: not spinal operations.

Anyway, it was even colder the next day, and windy with it. On the plus side, it was sunny. I had agreed in a foolish moment to go and take pictures of one of Helen Lamb’s sugar runs, featuring vintage tractors travelling from Honing Village Hall to a North Walsham day nursery. I tried to get a pic at a key point (the mill) on the way, but it didn’t work out because the tractors were moving too quickly (!) and were not in a bunch. So I took a circuitous route and arrived at the nursery at roughly the same time as they did. Took a number of pictures and chatted with Peter, who was taking a video for them. Also with Helen, Chris and Louise. The little children were giving Santa Claus bags of sugar and looked very sweet. Ho, ho.

Don’t know where the story and pix will end up, except that Gay Webster at Just Aylsham has asked for extra; so I sent her some. (Extra pics, not extra sugar.)

More coldness on Saturday, when I put on an unprecedented number of clothes and went to the football match with Dot and Des. We had two free tickets from Jonathan. Survived reasonably well. The first half was pretty dreadful and we were losing 1-0 at half-time (to Sheffield Wednesday), but we perked up a lot after the break and won 3-1. Afterwards I made an extra trip to the shop to get potatoes while Dot listened to Canary Call.

On Sunday we had to be pretty nippy after church because we had to eat lunch and then go to Blofield, for the Sillars Concert that Dot should have been playing in but wasn’t (though her neck is much better). We gave a lift to Des and Chris, to whom we had sold tickets, and the concert was OK. Maryta and Paul, freshly back from Australia, were there. I say “freshly”: he actually looked very tired, and sounded it too. We had been keeping an eye on Maryta while he was away. She came round a few times.

After the concert we invited Des and Chris in for drinks, which was very pleasant. We get on very well with them.

I’ve just had a day full of Paston Footprints – a morning meeting at North Walsham, followed (after lunch and a longish walk) by writing the minutes, which is always a challenge. Not a particularly harmonious meeting, although everyone eventually gives way to L; so there were no actual fights. L really wants to organise the whole thing herself, but if she did and then disappeared into hospital for a couple of months, it could get quite awkward.

Karen made a surprise appearance. Her health appears to be improving somewhat. But for how long? Rob continues to hold it all together. In his place I would have given up long ago.  Bit disappointed I couldn’t take the magazines over, but no e-mail from Nick yet.

Still quite cold, with the promise of more cold and even snow tomorrow or the day after.

Dot drove herself to Diocesan House today; she appears to be able to drive the MX5 without using 2nd gear. Earlier in the week I drove her to Catfield  and Little Plumstead (Monday) and Forncett (yesterday). After Catfield I drove back to the doctor’s and saw Dr Danelia Carlile, who was very good, listened and eventually persuaded me to take statins because I have minor kidney disease and a 42% chance of having a heart attack or stroke in the next ten years. Allegedly.

Coincidentally a friend who is about 30 years younger than me and is not in any at-risk group has just had a minor stroke, which just goes to show, doesn’t it? I think the statins are making me tireder, but as I’ve walked quite a long way this week, that may not be the case. I’m giving them a fair shot. You can put that on my tombstone.

After Forncett, we both went into the city: Dot bought some Christmas presents and I went to the bank and then bought some cards. I could feel it getting colder. In the evening (yesterday) while Dot was at Little Plumstead again, this time for a Christmas concert, I had a very long talk with Oliver on FaceTime. This was because he has fractured his collar bone playing rugby and is confined to home for a while. Amy and their parents were at a parents’ evening.

Last Friday we went to Swaffham for lunch with the Higbees, which was very pleasant. Alan is 77 but seems to be thriving, turning out a lot of wooden bowls (get it?).

On Saturday Dot spent some time at St Augustine’s Hall with Carrie’s local families group, making Christmas cards. This group is growing; so we are having a Messy Christmas on December 17 for their benefit. This replaces my alternative carol service. I tried to combine the two, but Carrie wasn’t keen on the script I wrote, which would have been difficult for children. So I am adapting it for the 24th and hope to persuade my family to come along. No pressure.

If I thought it was cold last time, today must be Arctic. We’ve just been to the shop, and I practically froze during the short distance between car and shop. It snowed this morning, and more is forecast. Apparently it’s chaotic in Aberdeenshire.

This week has been hectic, largely because Dot’s shoulder injury – now re-diagnosed as a neck injury – has meant she can’t drive, or play the violin. The former has had more impact on me, because I have had to drive her everywhere. It’s not that I mind driving her everywhere (I like driving), but it cuts down dramatically on the time I have available to do the various tasks I have before me. I have however managed to complete the Paston magazine (Ed 5) and it went off to the printer today.

Yesterday was a bit of a tour-de-force. Dot had fixed up an appointment with a physio at Little Plumstead at noon. We had intended to come home after that and then drive to see Jessie. Fortunately Dot had the foresight to take with us to the physio the plant and other stuff we were going to take to Jessie – just in case the appointment lasted longer than half an hour.

It lasted over 90 minutes, during which I braved a chilly wind and a little rain to walk my daily quota round the village. So when Dot emerged with her new diagnosis, a well-massaged neck and a series of exercises to do, we were able to drive straight to North Walsham and get there almost exactly on time (2pm).

We stayed for about 90 minutes, during which a couple of nurses dropped in to give Jessie an injection and we had a cup of tea and a few biscuits (we’d missed lunch). I had to be at a Paston meeting at Mundesley at 7pm, so we started preparing supper almost immediately we got home, which was when the phone rang. It was M, whose husband is in Australia.

Dot invited her round at about 6pm, when I was due to leave for Mundesley. She arrived at 5pm, before we’d prepared supper, which is about par for the course. (She was ready; so she came.) But that wasn’t the strange bit. We finished cooking the meal (Hello Fresh for 2) and  asked her if she wanted anything to eat or drink. She said no. So we put our food on the table. She sat down in front of Dot’s meal. Dot said no, it was her meal;  so she sat down in front of mine. Eventually we ended up giving her bits of our own meals.

I left while she was discussing politics with Dot, drove to Mundesley in Dot’s car and attended a meeting with Lucy, Rob, Penny and all the re-enactors. I even took the minutes. Quite a tiring day, really. Very wet in the end.

Earlier in the week (Sunday, in fact) we had attended an unusual event at Mangreen. It started in Hempnall, at the home of Roger and Sue Eagle and with Helen “Sugar” Lamb and her husband Chris, plus one or two others. Hefty nibbles and then on to Mangreen, where there was a concert by the Norwich Community Choir (or portion of), interspersed with stories by master storyteller Paul Jackson. Quit effective, all in all. Mince pies afterwards.

On Monday I drove Dot to a Diocesan House event, then fetched her (after a gap). Also did some work on the Paston mag. On Tuesday I met Carrie Sant at the bank so that she could identify herself as the next step in changing signatories for the church account. This has been going on for about 18 months. Afterwards we had a cup of tea and Carrie filled me in on the difficulties faced by (and sometimes surmounted by) refugees and asylum seekers. Apparently the system suits anyone who’s prepared to be dishonest.

In the evening, on the spur of the moment, we went to see Paddington 2, which is a wonderful film. A triumph for love, innocence and sheer goodness.