And so we emerge from a hectic week…into another one. Dot is already out visiting schools, and I have a visit to the dentist tomorrow and to the doctor on Thursday. The latter doesn’t sound much, but it looms pretty large. There is a root canal involved.
I was in the sunny city, paying in church money, on Wednesday, when Dot called me to say Oliver and Amy wanted to come to us a day early. Naturally, a plan was quickly devised, and with Dot busy finishing a PIB (pre-inspection briefing), I set off to meet David halfway just outside Newmarket near Snailwell – a spot identified on Google maps. All went well, except that halfway there the warm and sunny day evaporated into heavy rain, and I realised I hadn’t brought my anorak or taken my guitar out of the boot. No worries, however: the rain turned back into sun before we met, and there was plenty of room for the children’s luggage.
We had a great three days with the children, despite a bad weather forecast. On the Thursday we went to Sheringham, where it was mild enough to have a picnic on the beach after Oliver and I had climbed Beeston Bump (calling in at Fred’s caravan on the way and finding Liz in situ) and Dot and Amy had done some shopping. We also did a little crabbing, and after I retired defeated, the children “teamed up” with another family, who had bait. As a result, Oliver netted one.
Oliver at the summit of Beeston Bump
We then drove (as a result of a miscalculated and rash promise made earlier) to Winterton, in time to have a quick game of hide-and-seek in the dunes before the rain started, and a few drops quickly turned into a downpour. We repaired to the cafe for refreshment and then rushed wetly to the car. We had taken Dot’s car for a service earlier in the day, but it was now too late (and too wet) to fetch it; so I left it till the next morning. The next morning was also very wet, as was the whole day, and we spent most of it in the house or garage, where Oliver showed an amazing aptitude for table tennis. As he’s very competitive, this wasn’t enough for him: he wanted to win every game too. Meanwhile Amy made a den under the table and did some cooking indoors. We finished the day off with a 6pm meal at Prezzo’s: the children are a real joy to take out – or actually do anything with.
David arrived at lunchtime on Saturday, after being held up because the police had shut the southern bypass after a fatal accident. We had roast beef for lunch, and Oliver did his best to beat Daddy at table tennis when Daddy wasn’t tackling my computer. I popped up to St Peter Hungate at 3.30pm to check that the afternoon session with the visiting viols was going OK. I spoke to Lucy and Jo, both of whom seemed very ill, but didn’t hear the viols, who were taking a break. I went back at 5pm for the rehearsal with Rob, Caroline and Kay, and it went well, so I returned home to say goodbye again, picking up the poetry books I’d forgotten at the same time.
I also went and picked up a music stand from the church hall, at the same time replacing a notice which had either blown off or been ripped off, or both (the wind had been very strong the day before). The evening performance – Heroine of Hungate – took place as David and the children were driving back to Caddington and Dot was cleaning up the house: it did go well, but the audience was very small – only a dozen, including relatives and friends. Hilary came, as did Catherine Mapes. I blame the poor publicity because the viols messed us about (no, we don’t want to perform; yes, we do; no, we can’t do it in the evening….)
Felt totally shattered yesterday morning, but had to leave at 9.30 for the Archdeacon’s Visitation at St Luke’s and a combined service and bring-and-share lunch. Worship music went well, and Dot and I were able to sing three of my songs for the Communion service. The archdeacon, the Ven Jan McFarlane, did a brilliant sermon about writing people off by labelling them: it sounds fairly ordinary, but she did it exceptionally well and brought in all kinds of other stuff.
In the evening our family’s hobnobbing with the senior echelons of the Church of England continued when Dot went to the commissioning service for the new director of Norwich Youth for Christ and met the Bishop, with whom she’s pretty chummy. She pleaded with him not to become Archbishop of Canterbury, and it would indeed be a big loss for Norwich, though probably brilliant for the country at large. I have a great admiration for him (as you probably noticed). She really enjoyed the service, at St Andrew’s Eaton, which I had given a miss in the hope of getting some rest – almost certainly a bad choice. I make a lot of them.
Tenuous royal link: rumoured to be Prince Charles' favourite spot, only a mile or three from his house near Ballater, the Falls of Glenmuick.
A memorable few days watching other people celebrate the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee. David and Kristine duly arrived on Saturday, having been held up by the usual tailback at Elveden, and we had a late lunch followed by a walk along the river bank, then up on to St James Hill and back through Lion Wood and the Rosary, trying to avoid street parties in deference to our guests’ preference. The weather was cool, but dry, as it remained following our meal for the walk up to the Maddermarket to see Alan Ayckbourn’s play Time of my Life, with the cast including both Trevor Burton and David Newham, former colleagues at the EDP. Excellent production, ending to David’s mortification with the singing of the national anthem! He suspected I had arranged it, but sadly this was not the case.
We took our guests to church for a relatively jubilee-free service, then had lunch at jubilee-free Prezzos. Following this we caught glimpses of the River Pageant, sloppily covered by the BBC, who told you everything you didn’t want to know and nothing you did. The weather got worse and worse, and it was not much fun for the surprisingly upbeat spectators, one of whom was another former colleague, Ian Bullock. He related (on Facebook) that he stood for for hours on the Embankment, getting colder and wetter, and then when it was all over found that both the Embankment and Charing Cross tube stations were helpfully closed and everyone was converging on Leicester Square. I don’t even want to think about it.
Through it all the Queen was serene and the Duke of Edinburgh was becoming ill. He ended up in hospital on the Monday with a bladder infection, which is not surprising, and missed the Jubilee Concert, which (inevitably, I suspect) was a collection of mediocre songs by people who used to be quite good. It says something that Tom Jones stood out. Felt sorry for Paul McCartney, who looked ill and bemused and was not in good voice. On the plus side, Madness on the palace roof (“Our House”) was a nice idea, the rain had stopped, and Prince Charles (who came out of the whole thing very well) made a speech that was about as good as it could have been. The Coomes had left on Sunday evening after tea.
The thanksgiving service on Sunday was splendidly and traditionally done and went without a hitch, though the Queen looked lonely without the Duke, who was still in hospital. Excellent new anthem – Call to Wisdom – by Will Todd, but as a writer I felt rather annoyed that the author of the words, Michael Hampel, was barely mentioned – rather as no-one knows (or mentions) who wrote the words to The Messiah. All right, I know they’re both basically biblical texts, but they still need to be compiled in some sort of poetic order. The Messiah libretto was written by Charles Jennens, by the way. I expect you knew that.
The Archbishop gave a good sermon on the theme of dedication and commitment, and the hymns were pretty dull, as expected. If you can have a new anthem, why can’t you have the odd modern hymn? The service was followed by a couple of receptions and a lunch, and then a carriage drive to the Palace, a balcony appearance by the Queen, Prince Charles and Camilla, William and Kate and Harry only. Despite gathering rain clouds, the air force did manage a fly-past with the usual beloved suspects. Those Spitfires are really something.
Dot and I watched all this on and off. I slipped out to Morrisons to buy food for the Tuesday Group, which eventually consisted of only six people. Harriet arrived late (no buses) and Vicky left early but had nine hours’ sleep unbroken when she got home. Dot had prayed that she got more sleep. This morning Barbara is here working with Dot, who has a huge amount to do during the next two or three weeks.
Feeling strangely calm. The sun is out, Land of Hope and Glory is playing upstairs, and we are awaiting the arrival of David and Kristine from London. There is the slight worry that they may get delayed by bunting and street parties, but on the whole, I am optimistic. This is despite my incipient abscess, which necessitated a visit to the dentist yesterday. No pain, but definitely something odd going on up there – not at the dentist’s, but in my mouth. The dentist agreed and has booked me in for root treatment. Oh, joy. Still, it’s ten days away. Can’t think about that yet.
Dot has spring-cleaned the entire house, and we cleaned out Waitrose yesterday. I’m not normally tempted by food, but Waitrose is another matter. It all looks so interesting. Before that we visited the charity shop, the tip and the East Europeans who run the car wash on Aylsham Road. The latter are frighteningly efficient: they also vaccuumed the interior, and all in about 15 minutes. While we were there an expensive car drew up and three sinister men emerged. Made me wonder if the advertised “Polish Protection” was what it seemed.
I should explain that there was a free Elgar CD with the Telegraph last weekend. The funeral of Dot’s friend Jan was in Reading yesterday. Keep thinking about her husband Pete – a really nice bloke. Spent some time trying to find an obituary notice online, but in vain: eventually Dot rang the house and spoke to someone (possibly Pete’s father) to discover that they didn’t want flowers. So will be sending a donation to charity instead.
Dot's college friends pictured by Pete Stokes at our ruby wedding anniversary. Jan (Pete's wife) is fourth from the right.
Not a happy start to the week: Liz Stabler rang as Dot was leaving the house on Monday and told us that Dot’s college friend Jan Stokes (formerly Kidd) had died 0f cancer. Huge shock: we didn’t even know she was ill. Apparently she herself didn’t know about the cancer until a couple of months ago.
Then we discovered that our nephew Joe has multiple sclerosis: fortunately the less severe kind – intermittent instead of progressive – but still a tremendous blow for him and Birgit, and for his parents.
Third, and rather less seriously, I got a phone call late in the evening from Lucy to tell us that the consort of viols from Cambridge had decided not to play in the evening on June 9, but in the afternoon, thus making a nonsense of all our publicity. Ironically I had distributed some flyers to the tourist information centre, St Peter Mancroft and several businesses on Elm Hill when we checked the venue on Saturday. Ho hum.
The three of us met (with Kay) at Fakenham today to decide what we’d do about it and – mainly – to rehearse the script. The latter went well – Caroline had written a new song – and we decided to just forge ahead and do our own thing in the evening on the 9th, letting the viols get on with it in the afternoon. Out, viol spot.
Dot hasn’t been well, but is now better. We went to a concert by Duke Special at the Open on Sunday night, and she felt ill on the way there and the following day. The concert was nevertheless brilliant: DS is a great live artist and a top songwriter. The Cracknells and Heybournes were also there. We got there about 7.15, but there were two support acts before DS took the stage at about 9.15pm. One of them was local and not my kind of thing at all; the other was Foreign Slippers, who were quirky and pretty good. Great evening: even made Dot feel better, though she relapsed afterwards.
Had our hair cut yesterday, and in the evening Steve Fiske came round to sort out the worship songs for June 10, when the Archdeacon is paying a visit and we have a joint service at St Luke’s. Brought back memories of when we used to play together at St Augustine’s.
After several days of warm sunshine,today is cooler, with rain promised.
When we were in Scotland, the average temperature was around 6-8C. This week 26C has been recorded at Aviemore, and it was 24C yesterday at Aboyne, where it was snowing less than a week ago. But it’s warm and sunny here in Norfolk too, ever since they fixed the power cut. Odd, Holmes.
I’ve had a blood test followed by a visit to the doctor, with the result that I have an extra pill to lower my blood pressure. Good news on that front: it’s down to 152/94, which is a considerable improvement.
The power cut did rather hamper my compilation of a financial report for the DCC, but I suspect that my version of a financial report (description of how we’re doing) is not the the kind of thing required (forecast of what we’ll have at the end of the year). Yes, I could make a guess, based on what is coming in and what is going out, but since that could fluctuate wildly, I don’t see how it would be much use. I mean, what if we only had a few loaves and fishes?
In much the same news, I paid in quite a large number of cheques to the DCC’s bank account on Tuesday and then dropped some Paston flyers off at St Peter Mancroft Church, where I had a very pleasant conversation with a woman from Kingston on Thames (originally). I then popped into the Forum to see the Norwich 20 Group exhibition and ran into Hilary Mellon, who was pretending to be a steward. Also left some flyers at the Tourist Information office.
On the way home ran into swathes of Celtic supporters, up for an Adam Drury testimonial match. I observed on Facebook that I was OK, since my wife was born in Glasgow, which elicited astonishment from my nephew Sam, who didn’t know his aunt was Scottish. I think I’ll leave him thinking she’s Scottish – at least until he reads this.
On Wednesday evening we went to a Norfolk and Norwich Festival concert at St Andrew’s Hall which was notable on several counts. First, there was a long queue to get in, which in view of the fact that we had paid a considerable amount to get tickets about two months ago, is pretty miserable organisation. It also started nearly 15 minutes late and was about the shortest concert I’ve ever been to, finishing around 45 minutes later. I worked out that it cost us, as a couple, over £1 a minute.
The music – Beethoven’s Pastoral Symphony – was good, by Spira Mirabilis from Italy, who operate without a conductor and are extremely excitable, as you might expect. But I thought it poor return for the money invested and was rather disgruntled. We went home and watched an episode of Lewis, which was much better value.
During the power cut on Monday Phil and Joy lent us a flask of boiling water. I walked up to their house yesterday to return the flask (a convenient distance). Trying to keep my blood pressure down.
Back in Norwich again after two weeks away. And to greet us, an eight-hour power cut affecting three houses in our street. Much digging up of pavements before they found the problem and fixed it. Thanks to Scotland, we were used to the lower temperatures, but Dot did light a fire when she returned from a morning at Thurton school. I meanwhile went round Phil’s, had a cup of tea and charged my mobile phone.
Here is the account of the last fortnight or so:
Tuesday, May 8
On Saturday Andrew and I went for a walk down the Riverside path, taking in the new footbridge, under which we sheltered when a few drops of rain fell. In the afternoon I drove him to Dunston as usual, after a brief excursion to show him where Joe lived at Hethersett. At St Remigius Church we saw black rabbits. We had sheltered in the car for a few minutes during a hailstorm, and I switched on the radio to hear that Norwich City had equalised to draw 3-3 away at Arsenal, thus giving Spurs a chance to come third in the Premiership – a chance they squandered the next day by drawing with Aston Villa.
We all had lunch at church on Sunday (Anna providing chicken thighs), then returned quickly home to pack up the car, and left at 1.50pm for Coventry, where we dropped Andrew off after a good journey, at about 4.40pm. (We had stopped briefly at Cambridge Services.) Then onward and upward, stopping at M6 Toll services before reaching Knutsford Premier Inn before 7pm. We had bought sandwiches, so didn’t partake of the evening meal, but the breakfast next day, after a good sleep, was excellent.
So far we had done about 242 miles, but we had about 350 to go. Travel conditions were good. We stopped at the lovely Tebay farm shop services and bought some stuff to eat on arrival. On entering Scotland we experienced the first drops of rain, and it continued wet or wettish the rest of the way. We stopped at Annadale Water to get chips for Dot; they had run out of petrol, so we stopped again at Abington for fuel.
Some heavy rain between Glasgow and Perth, but they’ve at last got the road sorted out, and there were no problems. Balathie looks as if it may be permanently shut, so we continued to the Fife Arms at Braemar, where we had tea and cake. On the way to Ballater we turned back to get another look at Lochnagar covered with snow. (Temperature got as low as 1C over the Glen Shee pass – as predicted by Dot – and there was a roaring fire in the Fife Arms lounge.)
Arrived at a very cold wee house about 6pm and turned up all the heat. Bought a little extra food in town, gave someone directions to the chipper (!) and ate a meal while watching some DVDs (no television, of course). First Set in Stone, a film about Norwich churches that I had got for Christmas, then the first two episodes of Series Two of Mad Men. We decided on the twin-bed room, which seemed warmer, and had a relatively early night. This morning, we moved the beds together.
Finished reading the Grove booklet, Worship and Freedom in the Church of England: Exploring the Boundaries, but found we were already exploring beyond the boundaries. Still, it was interesting.
Wednesday, 9 May
Lovely day yesterday. We started by ‘”popping” into town to buy washing up liquid and kitchen towels, but ended up with over £30 worth of items from the kitchen shop and a scarf from Byzantium. The weather was unexpectedly nice: not too cold, almost warm when the sun was shining, and very little wind. We drove over to the log cabin for lunch, then back across the Braemar road for a stunning view of snow-covered Lochnagar.
On via Crathie to the South Deeside road, where I saw a huge, darkly painted aircraft very low over the trees. No idea what it was doing, as there is nowhere that I know for it to land anywhere near. Dot didn’t see it, but she heard it. On again via the Birkhall road to Loch Muick, where the car park was very thinly populated. We walked down to the loch and then did the short circuit via the hut and the Lochnagar path. Red deer were feediing, and I saw a meadow pippit struggling to reach about 30ft and then floating down to earth on outstretched, unmoving wings.
Decided to have fish and chips, but restricted ourselves to only one piece of fish (between us). Watched three more episodes of Mad Men and wrote postcards and a birthday card for Vicky, on which I managed to get her surname wrong. Think I’m cracking up. After all, it is Lenton.
Heading for the summit of Cairn Gorm
Thursday, 10 May
Another good day yesterday, when we travelled across to Cairn Gorm via the recently mended and reopened Gairnshiel Bridge (one can only imagine the chaos while it was closed). Weather was looking pretty bad just beyond Bridge of Brown and we almost turned back, but very glad we didn’t. Heavy hail shower as we arrived in the car park, so we sat it out and then caught the funicular, which showed an unexpected turn of speed.
At the top we disgorged into the top level restaurant so that the skiers and snowboarders could access the snow easily. Dot and I had some food first, but then emerged on to some beautiful snow and walked about on it for quite a while. Surprisingly still and not too cold, especially when the sun came out.
We went back in to look round the shop, but eventually ventured outside again. Quite magical. Took the train down at 3.40pm, visited the Camera Obscura and sat outside with a hot drink, such was the improvement in the weather. This was the best time of day, and so of course everything was closing in true Scottish fashion – even the funicular.
On the way home we stopped by the loch for a while and took some photos. Think I saw an eagle in the distance. We were approached by a pair of mallards, and I gave them an apple someone had thrown away. Practically no traffic at all on the road home. Bought some food in Ballater and ate in. More than halfway through Mad Men.
Today is much different; very wet and very cold. We stayed in bed late and had a long telephone conversation with David. Didn’t venture out till close to 2pm, when we drove to Braemar and had late lunch at the Fife Arms, where Dot paid £2 for six hours of Wi-Fi and caught up with her e-mails. Then drove up the hill outside Crathie and sat in a layby reading for a while. We had hoped for a view, but there wasn’t one. Then home and got ready for evening meal with Ella and David at the Lodge on the Loch at Aboyne – a new one on us. Managed to write a couple of poems earlier in the day.
Friday, 11 May
Rather less wet this morning, but stayed in bed late anyway. Unusually our meal with Ella and David ended at a respectable hour, and we were home before 10pm. The Lodge on the Loch is an impressisve establishment opened only about four years ago and incorporating three nine-hole golf courses and regular visits from ospreys. Even in the pouring rain, the view was spectacular.
We were the only people there, apart from residents who had eaten earlier, and so got the full attention of the waitress, who I think was also the owner. I paid for initial drinks, but Ella insisted on paying for the meal, which was really nice: well cooked and presented without being spectacular. I had garlic mushrooms, steak and pavlova, and my stomach was very happy about it.
Climbing near Craig Leek: Lochnagar and other summits on the skyline
Saturday, 12 May
Rather less wet, I said. I suppose that’s true in the sense that the cold evening brightened enough for us to walk the river path and linger on the stones. But until then the only time there was no rain was when there was snow, which we encountered at a lower level than ever before, on the Ballater-Corgarff road and on the scenic road between Gairnshiel Bridge and Crathie.
The ground was too warm for it to lie there (although the air temperature hit 0C at one point), but it was lying beside the road in some quantity on the Lecht. We sat in the log cabin and watched it sweep across the little cemetery while I ate lentil soup and egg sandwiches, and Dot had maple syrup and bacon with pancakes, followed by ice cream. I bought a shirt (of course), and Dot a wallet.
Today was a totally different kettle of fish. It dawned bright and blue, and we decided to go through with our tentative plan for a walk near Craig Leek, close to Keilloch. We made the mistake of starting from a layby near the turn to Aberarder, following a walk in one of our books. I hadn’t studied it carefully enough and thought it was about five miles, but an extension up the shoulder of Craig Leek – by far the best bit of the walk – added a couple of miles, and as this is Scotland, that added up to eight.
It was warmer than recently, but there was still a chilly wind against us most of the way out and it strengthened as we climbed towards Am Bealach. So it was quite hard going – but the views towards snowy Lochnagar were spectacular. On the walk back there was plenty of standing water to circumnavigate, and by the time we reached the road I was feeling pretty tired.
On our return to Ballater a hot bath eased our limbs somewhat so that we managed to stagger to the Green Inn for our customary appointment with culinary excellence. Top-class meal with an exceptional chocolate dessert that had won a national competition. Also great ambience, and a nice chat with the owner, who remembers us from previous years but lets us in anyway.
Monday, 14 May
Yesterday was mainly dry but very windy, and we were blown along into a totally different time zone – otherwise known as the local church, which has galloped into the 20th century (the 21st would be a step too far) by switching to Mission Praise, but still chooses all the oldest hymns from it. There is no danger of any surprises here, but there is something nostalgic about it. I’m not sure this is what one should look for in a church. They are very friendly, which is.
Afterwards we had tea and scones at a new coffee shop on the main street – Rock Salt Cafe – and bought a couple of other things before returning home, where we attempted a bit of washing. This turned out to be a mistake, as someone had disconnected the drain pipe, and the floor and cupboard soon had water flowing over them. We managed to limit the damage by mopping up with towels, and I worked out how to reconnect the drain pipe. We risked rinsing what we had in the machine, and everything including the towels was hung out to dry in the very brisk wind.
Obviously we deserved fish and chips after that, so we had an early supper, and then drove out to park and read. We quickly located the nearest heavy rain (on the Corgarff road), stopped for a while, then had a rethink and returned to our favourite riverside spot on the South Deeside road, where it was almost dry, apart from the river. Back at home later we finished Series Two of Mad Men, which leaves us without a DVD to watch tonight. Will we find one? Watch this space.
OK, that’s enough space-watching. Yes, we did find one, after much searching: it turned out that the internet cafe in Ballater had a four-for-£10 offer and was open late, so we ended up with four films – the first of which, Source Code, was very good indeed.
Earlier in the day we drove to Linn of Quoich and after waiting for the rain to stop walked upstream for a while, then climbed up on to the moor and meandered back. Huge amount of water in the stream and quite a lot falling from the sky as we got back to the car. Very showery day altogether.
We called in for late lunch at the Fife Arms, and Dot checked her e-mails again, finding one from Barbara M that was four days old. Drove back to Ballater, picked up the DVDs and, as it was sunny, drove up towards Glen Muick to park and read. After I finished my book, Cairngorm John (about mountain rescues) we decided to walk and drive instead: Dot walked for ten minutes; I caught her up and then I walked for ten minutes. Amazing how far you can get in ten minutes. We ended up near the Falls of Muick and walked down to get a closer look. As we got back to the car it started to rain, and as the road entered the open glen, it started hailing. It was that sort of day.
On the plus side, the house feels much warmer, and we saw a woodpecker on a tree. We have also realised, in case I fail to mention it elsewhere, that you can actually see the top of Lochnagar from the garden. Took us 20 years to notice that, but to be fair they are cutting down trees in Greystones.
Dot on Perkin's Moss. He didn't seem to mind.
Tuesday 15 May
Mainly dry today, and sunny too: but a bitterly cold wind developed during the day. Our first outing, three and a half miles on the Muir of Dinnit, was extremely pleasant, taking in an area of bog called Perkin’s Moss, where a boardwalk has been erected. After that we walked on down to the loch but abandoned the circumnavigation because Dot was hungry.
Instead we drove round “the other way” to the log cabin and had a bite before driving up to the start of the path down to the bridge where we took David and the children. We walked down and back, but the wind had become really icy, and we were glad to reach the car, especially as there was snow in the air. Coldest I’ve been so far.
Parked again on road above Crathie: Dot read, and I wrote a poem. Then we drove into Ballater, and I bought a newspaper and a birthday card for David Coomes. Later we walked to La Maggiatore for a very nice Italian meal, then rounded the evening off by watching The House of Flying Daggers – some rather special effects.
The Cairnwell as we drove past
Thursday, 17 May
We leave today – and it’s snowing. Not lying, but a steady downfall of snowflakes from a leaden sky. Yesterday was rather better, though still very cold in the wind later on. In the morning I climbed Craigendarroch by a different route, following the circular path into the Pass of Ballater first. Dot was in town shopping, and I could see her (and she me) from the top. Descended by a new route on the timeshare side that proved very quick.
Did some packing and sorting out, and a man came to read the meter. After a quick lunch drove into Glen Muick, where we walked the archaeological route near the Spittal. Very pleasant at first, but got cold as the wind hit us higher up. Hung around the ranger’s place for a while, then returned to Ballater for petrol.
Evening meal was at the Glen Lui – a fitting conclusion featuring venison and prosecco, plus the usual great view out on to the golf course. Afterwards we watched Passion in Mind, a very clever but ultimately slightly confusing story about a woman (Demi Moore) who couldn’t distinguish between her dream life and reality.
It’s now 9pm, and we’re in the Premier Inn at Newcastle (Team Valley), seventh floor. As we left Deeside, even the lower hills were covered with snow, and in Glen Shee the snow was everywhere, and we took several pictures. Stopped at the pottery place and visitor centre between Glen Shee and Perth and had tea/coffee and a scone. They’ve made an attractive place of what used to be just a pottery shop about ten years ago (or more). Nice people.
We stopped again at Kinross services (a former haunt) and then headed for the A1 via the Forth Bridge and the Edinburgh bypass – all in pouring rain. I was reminded again why we now use the longer western route: many stretches of single carriageway between Berwick and Newcastle, and huge numbers of speed cameras. Not that the latter came into play much, because we were in a long, slow-moving queue behind a giant crane much of the time. Coming after the 40mph stretches of motorway around Edinburgh (for minimal work being done), this left us more than a little frustrated.
Still, the Premier Inn was easy to find and is very pleasant. Good value for £23 a night (booked in advance, non-cancellable), and an extremely helpful receptionist. It also seems to have stopped raining.
Friday, 18 May
David’s 40th birthday. Texted him when I woke up (just after 8am) to find he was already at school waiting to take Amy in. We had a good breakfast, and I got some cash out of a nearby machine, and after filling the car with petrol Dot drove south. Traffic was fairly heavy all day, but there were no hold-ups. We switched drivers at Ferrybridge services at the M62 junction (not the most convenient), and our next stop was at Peterborough services – new ones at the start of the motorway section and horrendously busy.
Still we ate a little, called David and then decided to pull in at Folksworth, where we found the grave of what I think were my great-great-grandfather William and his wife, and that of his father, George, and wife too. Both wives called Sarah. A few more Lentons located in nearby Yaxley cemetery, but didn’t stay long enough to search thoroughly.
Reached David’s at about 4pm and went in. He was picking up the children from school, so we made a cup of tea. They arrived at around 4.30pm, full of beans. Gave David his presents and some money, and played football in the garden for a while (after I’d had a brief snooze). Oliver a good footballer, and he won a race today too.
He’s making great progress with the Harry Potter books, and Amy is also a good reader. They also had presents from Scotland, and some Easter ones from Birgit’s brother and his wife.
Had a birthday tea of Thai food and champagne.
Sunday, 20 May
Great day yesterday. It stayed dry, although it was not as sunny as it might have been. Dot and I (mainly Dot) prepared the contents of a couple of salad dishes which David completed in his usual expert style when he returned from taking the children swimming.
Really nice food for the party. The Coomes arrived at about 12.30, and Tim and Liz with their children, Lawrence and Heather, a bit later. Games included much Wii activity, Harry Potter Cluedo and plenty of football, both in the garden and at the nearby park. Liz is a primary teacher and gardening expert; Tim used to work with Vicky.
After they all left we wasted an evening watching Bayern Munich contrive to lose to Chelsea after squandering a multitude of opportunities and missing a penalty in extra time. So Spurs not in Champions’ League. Slept badly.
Relaxing moment on the cliff between Mundesley and Paston during the wet and windy walk at the end of April.
On the brink of our holiday in Scotland: Andrew is staying with us for a couple of nights, and we’re dropping him off on the way north tomorrow afternoon. We’ve just been for a walk down the Riverside path, taking in the new bridge, and I also got him a new pair of slippers. Yesterday Phil drove me to Coventry to pick him up, and everything went pretty smoothly, except the usual Elveden chaos, which we avoided (once we could reach the roundabout) by taking the pretty route via West Stow, Ingham and Barnham.
Not much rain in the last couple of days, but it’s been very cold (for May). Still, mustn’t grumble. It will probably snow in Scotland. As I write Dot is up at the garage, who are having a second look at her car after failing to fix it yesterday. They replaced some kind of coil, but the mystery light came on again at Coltishall after her visit to North Walsham. She was not happy.
Other news this week: an unexpected pregnancy. I cannot say whose pregnancy (in the style of Walt Whitman) but it landed us a bottle of champagne, so we were delighted. At the pregnancy, too. On the same day we had a meal at Cafe Rouge with Angela and Rodney to discuss the Ethel situation, which we did. Nice meal.
Earlier in the week: on Monday I took my massive Division Two champion trophy back to the chess club and took part on the John Swan Rapidplay, where I scored a pretty normal 50%, losing to two of the joint winners and drawing with the winner of the grading prize. My best game was in fact a loss to Jeff Dawson. Found it all very tiring, though. On Wednesday I took one of my games from earlier in the season to Mike Read so that he can annotate it for En Passant (if he thinks it’s worth it). Had a cup of tea with him and indulged in a bit of nostalgia.
On Tuesday, prior to a rather depleted Tuesday Group, Caroline and Rob came here again to discuss further the Paston event at St Peter Hungate in June. Think we’re getting there – I even sang my song, The Ballad of Gresham Town – and we decided to invite Kay to join us for our next meeting at the end of the month.
Katy Wakely with her mother and brother at her 40+ birthday party in Ditchingham village hall
Yes, it is still raining. Funny you should ask. Not surprising, since April is the cruellest month. While I was staying dry by not going out the other day, however, I did make an interesting discovery in the family tree area.
For a long time I had been wondering why my father’s parents were living in Mansfield before they moved to Norwich, since his mother was born in Sheffield, and his father’s family was long established in the area immediately to the west of Peterborough (Yaxley, Normans Cross, Folkesworth…). Then I discovered when looking at newly online records that my grandmother’s parents were not from the Sheffield area: one was born in Shirebrook and the other in Kneesall. What do these two small places have in common? They are near Mansfield. What could be more natural that the newly married couple should go and live either with or near the wife’s parents’ relatives? Well, it makes sense to me.
Meanwhile, back in the 21st century, we had the church annual meeting and dinner at St Luke’s last Tuesday, while Dot was in Thames Ditton, preparing for a philosophy session. Good meal, but a longish “farewell” to John and Jean Easton, who weren’t really going anywhere, but were stepping down from several church posts because they had reached the age of 70. Took Ian and returned with both Ian and Tim Mace, managing to return the jacket TM had left at our house several weeks previously.
On Wednesday a remarkable event that turned out badly for me. I went to the doctor’s surgery to get my blood pressure checked, and arrived a quarter of an hour early, intending to go to the loo and then sit quietly, breathing deeply, until I was called into the surgery about half an hour later if I was lucky. Wouldn’t you know that I was called when I was in the loo, which obviously pushed my blood pressure up, or at least stopped it going down. Very annoying. I am now on another pill, which may be irritating my stomach. I’ve had a couple of bad nights. We shall see. What was remarkable? Being called into the surgery a quarter of an hour early. Almost unheard-of.
Despite the weather I did take part in the Reading the Past in the Landscape walk at Paston on Saturday, which was just as well, since the guy leading it didn’t know the path back from the edge of the cliff. I felt almost useful. Also climbed Stow windmill, which was nice, though greyness restricted the view. Refreshments were at Lucy’s. The confusion over St Peter Hungate has not been totally resolved, but it’s heading in the right direction. I’ve left Rob sorting out the publicity with Lucy, which seems like a plan, as the Murrays would say.
In the evening we took the Greens to Ditchingham village hall for the 40+ party of Katy Wakeley, who is the granddaughter of our former church member, Maud Lincoln, and sometimes comes to church with her mother Chris. Like Maud, Katy is mainly in a wheelchair: she has ME very badly. She got out of it to cut her cake on this occasion. Chris and Ray were also there with Phyllis, and there was some dancing to an Irish band led by Bob Brolly, which is his real name. He also broadcasts on Midlands radio. They weren’t bad, actually. I don’t know if I mentioned this, but it was raining. Hard. All evening. Bob Brolly asked me to lead the men in singing Happy Birthday. Strangely, I was not at all nervous about this. Times change.
The party food was excellent, but for some reason my stomach reacted badly to it and I was awake for much of the night. After communion this morning I didn’t feel up to going to Fakenham for Caroline’s party, so I made my excuses and stayed home. Dot is busy working on her DSSO visits for the current term.
I know I keep going on about this, but it’s still raining, and the forecast for the rest of the week is about as wet as it can be. I wouldn’t mind if it was going to have any impact at all on the drought, but of course it isn’t. Don’t you just love water companies? On the plus side, there’s just a remote possibility that the weather might have got it all out of its system by the time we go to Scotland. Or more likely, it will have no effect on it whatsoever.
While our pitch-and-putt was rained off last Wednesday, Dot and I beat the Robinsons at table tennis, 3-2, 3-2. Not bad, since we were losing 3-0 in the second series. The next day we had the Greens round, but somehow table tennis didn’t crop up, and we spent the whole evening at the dining table devouring an excellent curry and other goodies provided by Dot.
On Friday it was curry again – this time with Heather, Sam and Simon at a rather upmarket curry house called the Merchants of Spice in Colegate. I know it was in Colegate, because it used to be called the Merchants of Colegate, before it suddenly became Asian. Delicious meal, preceded by drinks at the Playhouse. Exceptionally convivial evening.
The drama continued on Saturday, when we went to the Maddermarket to see Present Laughter by Noel Coward. Not the most brilliant play I’ve seen, but a bravura performance by the lead actor, and some nice performances elsewhere too.
More drama on Sunday, when after I preached the sermon at St Augustine’s one of our occasional visitors arrived and promptly collapsed. He has mental health problems, but in this instance he also had stomach pains, so one of our congregation phoned 999, and eventually we got the attention of a very pleasant paramedic on a bike. Unfortunately I had to go out and guide him in, which meant I got wet because – astonishingly – it was raining. Eventually said member of congregation drove him to a drop-in centre (the ill man, not the paramedic) – at which point, I was told later, he took fright and walked off.
Today Dot has been observing at a school in the east where they are choosing a new head teacher. She arrived home tired and then had to prepare for the next couple of days, involving more observation and then a visit to Thames Ditton for a P4C session (staying overnight). Meanwhile I was having a Chronicle meeting with Rob and Caroline, trying to unravel the confusion Lucy has inserted into what was going to be a pretty straightforward concert at St Peter Hungate. More on that story later.
Drought is now in full swing. It’s rained every day recently, often for a long time. Yesterday we had a hailstorm, and it’s pouring outside as I write, thus putting paid to our projected pitch-and-putt with the Robinsons. Helpfully, Anglian Water has sent us a leaflet describing lots of different ways to save water, like spending two minutes less in the shower. I would put this into effect immediately, except that I don’t have showers in the normal run of things. It doesn’t say anything about baths. One question: if water pipes are leaking all over the place, shouldn’t that be helping in terms of the water table? I suspect not, but I don’t know why.
Anyway, Dot has baked a cake. So we can have afternoon tea instead of pitch-and-putt. And I’ve managed to write my sermon for Sunday, though I have no doubt it will be changed before delivery.
Yesterday was my father’s 99th birthday, and today is Jack Earl’s, which means he is one day younger (than my father). And has lived 57 years longer, which doesn’t seem fair. Having a bit of trouble with his daughter at the moment: Rob and I went to St Peter Hungate on Monday to sort out plans for our event there in June; on reporting these to Lucy, it turns out that she wasn’t anticipating an evening event or sharing the proceeds with the church, both of which we’d agreed. So not sure what will happen. I have written a linking script and Rob has designed some publicity.
Dot is considerably better, but still has a bit of a cough. She spent most of the day yesterday at the Cathedral for a church school head teachers’ conference. Meanwhile I went to the John Innes Centre in pouring rain for the Archant annual meeting. Very few people there that I knew: no-one from EDP editorial except the editor, and no editorial pensioners. Spoke to Robyn Bechelet, Kath Silver, Ann Lown, Mike Almond and Doug Bird before I spilled some red wine on myself and made a fairly swift exit, pausing only for a bit more of the delicious buffet, which seems to get better every year.
Johnny Hustler gave an interesting talk (oh, yes he did) about Archant innovations, including a device whereby you could use an iPhone to run a video by pointing it at an ad in a magazine, which seems pretty amazing to me. Whatever next? No, don’t tell me.
On Sunday we went to have a look at Happisburgh, where they have astonishingly built a new car park on the cliff and a ramp down to the beach. They are also in process of demolishing some cliff-edge houses. Dot and I walked down to the beach and back in a bitterly cold wind, then repaired to Jessie’s for a cup of tea, with Roger in attendance.
