The Mill Hotel, Sudbury: our bedroom overlooked river and meadows.
Unseasonably warm and sunny day: we have just been sitting out by the river at the Mill Hotel, Sudbury, on one of those wonderful still, clear evenings that usually happens in late summer or early autumn, drinking white wine. We arrived at about 4.30pm and walked up to look at the school Dot is inspecting tomorrow. Our room is small (as advertised) but pleasant and right by the riverside. We have booked a meal for 7pm.
Earlier today we had a long chat with the Murrays on iChat after Dot had gone into the city and bought a new watch under the pretext of picking up her restrung necklace from Dipples. I confess I had put the suggestion into her head and was delighted she went for it.
Yesterday I attended another Paston library session, this time at Mundesley. I gave Lucy a lift. The new maps website has come online (http://historic-maps.norfolk.gov.uk/) and this makes a big difference to to our researching Paston because of the much improved detail. Took Lucy home and discussed what we needed to do for the weekend exhibition on March 3/4: it now seems remotely possible that we may have enough material for people to look at. But can we get it ready in time? It all depends on whether Lucy’s health holds up.
We’ve eventually got Dot established in the the office, and it seems to be working OK, though we may get Gary to move the filing cabinet by removing an unnecessary sliding tray. I’ve written most of my sermon for Sunday and chosen the hymns, but I have quite a lot of writing to do for various things.
Low quality iPhone pic of grandchildren enjoying sharing their grandmother's bed
Yes, I did get to the doctor’s in time, but I rather wish I hadn’t. I was persuaded that my blood pressure is indeed very high, and I am now on a pill a day, which sounds like the first step to more pills. Before seeing the doctor I felt fine. Now I feel tired and stressed. Perhaps my body knows best what pressure to pump my blood through at.
While we were there Dot took the opportunity to mention a lump that has appeared in her groin – I say “appeared”, but it’s been there for years: it’s just suddenly turned ugly. Apparently it has become infected; so she has antibiotics and hopefully it’s now turned the corner. It got boil-like, and she now has a dressing from the pharmacist for it. Eventually she will see another doctor, and it may have to be removed.
The car bill was indeed ginormous. All sorts of large figures are now lurking on our Goldfish card, waiting to pounce. However, the house is nearly finished. Today Gary is here, relocating Dot’s part of the study back where it started, so that she will be sharing with me. I hope he will also have a look at the attic door, which seems a mite insecure. Dot is off on the road to Cromer, where she’s meeting Maggie Broad for lunch before visiting a school at Overstrand – just the start of a busy week for her.
On Thursday last week we left early and picked up Oliver and Amy, who stayed with us until Sunday morning. On the way back to Norwich we stopped at Elveden and had a really nice snack. Amy spent much of the time here in Norwich organising small-bowl starters for meals, but we did manage to fit in a few games of Cluedo, at which Oliver is supreme (really) and some lotto too. We also saw A Monster in Paris at the cinema, which everyone enjoyed. Nice that the children now like cinema and theatre. They were lovely as usual: we even managed to form a band at one point which didn’t sound too bad, considering. Oliver wanted to put it on YouTube, but this was resisted for contractual reasons.
On Saturday David joined us for lunch at Prezzo’s. Most of us (especially the children) were feeling very tired, and we only managed a main course, but Amy brought out her starters again for tea. The three of them returned home early yesterday, as I left for church; Dot followed on in time to practice. After the service (Communion) Phil, Dot and I practised the songs that we hope to play next Sunday at the Seagull.
After a rather rushed lunch I hastened out to Poringland to have a chat with Philip R about an upcoming medical event. Pretty much collapsed at home afterwards: well, not quite. But there was an element of tiredness. The weather has been very cold for the last two days. It was soggy on Saturday, when Norwich City did their usual trick of exiting the FA Cup when given a good opportunity against a team from a lower division (1-2 to Leicester). Dot has purchased a quarter of a season ticket for next season from Jonathan. No-one (except possibly Jonathan) really knows what this means.
A kind of order has been restored to 22 Aspland Road. The new floor is all down, and only one thing remains to be done – get a carpenter (Gary) to reduce the oak post under my desk sufficiently to get it in the space now available. Not quite sure why Mark couldn’t do this. Apparently he didn’t have the right saw.
The filing cabinets presented the most difficulty, because they had to me emptied and filled again each time they were moved. The problem was exacerbated because I took the opportunity to do some resorting of files – mainly grouping them more rationally but in some cases doing some thinning out. Very tiring work, but I’m pleased with the result. Moving the actual cabinets wasn’t the problem we thought it might be, and we’ve also got the hall (Gemmell) bookcase back inside and full of books. Dot thinned out the dresser. Of course we now have stuff in the garage that needs to be disposed of – particularly our futon, for which there will not be room when our study has been converted into a two-person room. (Next stage. Gary again. Hopefully we will also get him to fix the catch on the attic trapdoor.)
At present my car is in the garage to be serviced and MOT tested at huge cost (“It’s the big one”). I’m hoping to get it back before I need to be at the surgery to discuss my blood pressure. but I also want them to do a proper job on the lights, which haven’t been working properly for some months. Pressure? No pressure. None at all. No, really.
Had a very pleasant few days to offset the hard work in the house. On Saturday went to the Greens with Judy for a lovely evening. The Veseys had also been invited, but someone had got the dates wrong. So it was just the five of us plus Anandi and her fiancé David, who are lovely. Saw some photos from Howard and Anna’s recent Ethiopian holiday, made fascinating by their comments and enthusiasm. Lovely meal too. Teetotal Judy gave us a lift, so were able to enjoy Howard’s excellent wine.
Last night’s Valentine Day meal at the Eagle on Newmarket Road was also superb. I had a smoked salmon terrine, followed by the best ribeye steak I’ve had for a long time, and we shared a meringue and fruit sweet. Setting very pleasant, a rose for Dot and service first-class. Could hardly have been better. We didn’t drink there because I was driving, but we came home and finished the evening with a couple of glasses of Prosecco.
Earlier in the day Vicky came round with Amy and George. Jared was away in Kent because his mother had died suddenly (though she had been unwell). Amy and George were pretty lively (respectively), and of course George had to climb the stairs. Lot of illness around: my aunt Josephine’s friend Joyce has recently died, and Josephine has moved (at least temporarily) into a home on Cecil Road. My nephew Joe is very concerned about numbness in different parts of his body (CT scan clear), and his brother Sam has dislocated his shoulder again. Saw Joe outside the Cathedral in the remaining snow on Saturday: he had just given a 2½-hour lecture. Had a chat with him and Birgit, who was waiting for him.
Last Friday I took the afternoon off to go to North Walsham while Mark finished the floor. We had a meeting of the group which will probably be known as Chronicle (Caroline, Rob and me) to discuss putting a Paston show together suitable for presenting at the Coast festival late this year, as well as at Dragon Hall next year or St Peter Hungate (some time). This last followed a meeting with a Hungate trustee on Friday which established that they would be keen for us to do stuff at the church, which is a prime Paston site as well as being significant in its own right. He bought tea and cake at the Briton Arms for Rob and myself – has to be a good sign. The three of us are now going to do some writing centring on Margaret Paston from Mautby.
I led the service on Sunday, and we followed that (after coffee) with a rehearsal of four songs aimed at the Seagull on the 26th. Went surprisingly well considering I was working on the tune of one of them till the last minute. They are Bernadette,Living on a Fault Line, I didn’t think it would come to this and Where you go I will follow (which is not a stalking song). The cold weather has been abating since then – probably not causal – and for the last couple of days it’s been damp , windy and a few degrees above freezing.
After our North Walsham meeting last Monday I called in to see Jessie and her new bathroom. Roger was there too. The bathroom looked really good, though disturbingly there were two metal tubes left over. She seemed in good form. Elsewhere in the county someone has been found to be stealing money rather systematically from another of Dot’s relatives. Who? Sub judice, I’m afraid.
First stages of the top layer go down – QPR fan Mark in the background
Day Five, and Mark is downstairs again, finishing off the kitchen. He laid most of the kitchen and hall floor yesterday, and I have to say it looks pretty good. Today he’s doing the edges, then the bit under the stairs; after which, he’ll start on the study. He assures me he will definitely finish on Monday. We’ve established he’s a QPR supporter who used to live in Acton, where I worked between 1969 and 1972 on the Acton Gazette.
The whole floor process is painstaking. After laying marine ply with great precision, he covered the floor with some wet sticky stuff which had to be left to dry, then planed down to be even flatter than it looked already. Then a section of the floor was glued, and the strips of Spacia laid – again very, very precisely, starting with a long strip down the centre.
Yesterday I visited the surgery to get a blood pressure monitor attached to me by Mrs Minter (making it a Minter monitor). She said her parents knew the people who built our house before emigrating to Australia. Apparently their name was Nash. Doesn’t ring a bell, but the facts fitted. The blood pressure monitor is an extremely irritating device which reminds me of what mobile phones used to look like (and weigh like) before they became usable. Every half hour it beeps and then compresses my arm to get a reading. Frequently it doesn’t work, so it repeats the process. At night it doesn’t beep but does do the rest every two hours. I wasn’t aware of the compression, but it must have woken me around 6am, and I didn’t get back to sleep after that. Pretty annoying, and it’s also uncomfortable and makes doing certain things difficult. I estimate it’s put my blood pressure up about 30% which, considering I was told it was very high when Mrs Minter took it at the surgery, has probably resulted in an increase of about 40% over the last 24 hours. I reckon the only way you can get an accurate blood pressure reading is to take it without the victim knowing. I’m doomed.
Amid all the beeping and compressing I went to the inaugural meeting of the St Augustine’s Poetry Group last night, while Dot attended Developing Consciousness, which I guess is roughly the same thing without the rhythm. There were three of us at the poetry group: Stuart (whose baby it is), Nic Golding and myself. Surprisingly, it went quite well. Stuart and I read a few poems; Nic hadn’t brought any because of “printer problems”. We’re meeting again next month.
Gary checks the hole in the kitchen floor, shortly to be covered up permanently
Third day of the Great Floor Replacement Experience. We have just spent about four hours trapped upstairs because the floor is drying in the kitchen. Dot devised an ingenious method of getting the front door locked, which involved a very long piece of string and an open window, plus the co-operation of the floor-layer; then we watched several episodes of Battlestar Galactica (none of them particularly good) and waited. We’ve just been down to put the dinner on: Dot observed that I was walking where it was wet; so I was sent up again. We’re both feeling quite hungry, and I don’t like the way she’s looking at me.
The GFRE started on Monday when the assistant pastor at Surrey Chapel, who happens to be (rather appropriately) a carpenter, came and took up the carpet, then screwed down the chipboard, some of which was squeaking. Unfortunately he also cut the alarm wire, so we had rather a lot of noise for a while. I wasn’t sure it was going to stop; so I rang the company rather frantically and eventually an engineer arrived – but not before the noise had stopped of its own accord. Anyway, he fixed the problem, and all seemed to be well – until we went to bed, when I tried to set the alarm on its part setting, but it failed to do what it should.
So I rang again yesterday morning, and towards mid-afternoon another engineer arrived, puzzled a bit and eventually put it right. I brilliantly left him alone with the floor-laying guy (from John Lewis), who persuaded him to tidy up some cable to facilitate the laying of his marine ply, so it was clearly not as ill a wind as I’d thought. The JL guy is about halfway through, I guess, with most of the marine ply down, and some sticky stuff over the top in the hall and kitchen which had to be left to dry. He hasn’t really started in the study yet. Eventually we will have a wood-simulated top layer which I believe is called Spacia, or something, and has a very good reputation as looking good and lasting a long time. This sounds very good to me. The longer the better.
In the midst of all this I went to Dragon Hall yesterday to see Sarah Power about fixing a date for a Paston event there in 2013. Getting into Dragon Hall is a bit of a challenge. Both Sarah’s phones were off, but I eventually made someone inside hear, which was a bit of a result.
Seem to have been working quite hard, which is not like me. On Friday, while Dot was out and about, I listened to the King Street interviews and wrote five poems, four of which I’ve sent off a few minutes ago to the person in charge of the project. Most of my time, however, has been spent moving furniture in preparation for the grand floor-change enterprise, which will take up most of this coming week.
Some of the furniture has gone in the garage, some upstairs. The big filing cabinet is in the downstairs loo (all the files were removed and then replaced), and the smaller one in the utility room with the fridge. Smaller things are upstairs or (again) in the garage. We tried to move the big table into the garage, but it was beyond us. We may be able to manage it tomorrow, when Gary comes to take up the carpet and screw down the chipboard. He is a carpenter, so he should be able to move tables.
This morning, after about three or four inches of overnight snow, we decided to walk to church. Quite pleasant too, except that I arrived home absolutely exhausted. I don’t know why, because we’d had a meal at church. Admittedly, walking in snow is tiring, but we’d had no problem in the Peak District. Maybe moving furniture took more out of me than I thought. We bade farewell to Matthew at church today. He is off to London this week. However, more things are now happening at church, and I’m optimistic about it.
Last Friday we had an evening meal with the Kibbles. Rod is a nice guy who goes into things in great depth. I try to keep up. Next day (yesterday) Dot got a ticket from Jonathan to watch Norwich beat Bolton 2-0. Lucy is out of hospital, but far from well.
We left Norwich just after 11am on Friday, and despite a blockage on the A146 that we avoided by driving down country lanes, we arrived at the Ferini Gallery in Lowestoft in good time for the Arts and Eats session. Ian Fosten eventually put in an appearance, and Dot and I helped with some food-and-furniture-fetching from his house, taking the opportunity to say hello to his wife Bridget. Lovely weather: quite warm in a cold sort of way.
The session went well. I gave Lynn Mummery a bit of encouragement, and Ian didn’t need any, providing about as many poems as Lynn and myself put together. Good response generally. Unfortunately Dot and I had to rush away at the end to get on the road to Nottingham – a four-hour journey. That went reasonably well, largely because Dave E warned us of a huge delay on the M1. As a result we went up the A1 and into Nottingham from the east.
Evening meal with Evetts at an Italian restaurant in Stapleford. Julia coping with ankle injury very well. Left for Buxton after leisurely breakfast on Saturday, and after going wrong in Derby got on to the right road and went via the A38 to the A6. On Dave’s advice stopped at Monsal Head for a snack and a look at the stunning view (as advertised). As we approached Buxton we could see snow on the hills, and in town there was even snow on the streets. Went badly wrong on entering town (after getting petrol at Morrisons) and spent some time orienting ourselves before finding the hotel. Excellent meal after stroll into town to find station.
On Saturday we climbed through Buxton Country Park to Grin Low. Lots of snow at the top. Misty outlook: very atmospheric. On return had guided tour of Poole’s Cavern, which was impressive. Then back to the hotel to change (walk = just under five miles) and then drive to see Gareth near Belper. Drive not much fun – well over an hour, or more than an hour longer than Adrian’s estimate of 10 minutes. Lovely to see Gareth, Nicky, Grace and Max. House very impressive. Easier drive back. Another superb meal in hotel. Bad night, though.
Much nicer day on Monday: sunny and still. Through lack of adequate prep, drove to Whaley Bridge then back along Taxal Ridge, stopping at Windgather Rocks, which we climbed on to. Then down to Goyt Valley, from where we walked up past Errwood Hall ruins to Foxley Edge (diversion from main route). Afterwards drove along Goyt Valley – icy roads – and up to near Cat and Fiddle, then back to hotel, where we relaxed in room awaiting arrival of Barbara.
She arrived about 30 minutes late after missing her intended connection at Stockport. Another good meal at the hotel ensued, and I collapsed afterwards and went to sleep fully clothed, then again in pyjamas. Had quite a good night this time, and enjoyed another full English in the company of the waitress who recognised us from previous years. Left for Ilkley shortly before 11am: first part of journey was horrendous, along the A6 with numerous delays until we hit the M60 after a couple of attempts. Then much better, though even on the motorway the ubiquitous speed cameras made life difficult (long stretches where lights were being upgraded and a speed limit of 50 was enforced by average speed cameras).
Then another slow stretch round the outskirts of Bradford and along the A65 to Ilkley, which is a very pleasant town and a vast improvement on anything we had encountered on the journey. Arrived about 1pm and had lunch in a lovely little cafe run by an Italian. Then walked up to Information centre and dropped in at a clothes shop where I bought laces for my shoes and some thermal underwear. Eventually dropped Barbara and Dot off at school just after 3pm, which left me two and a half hours in which to amuse myself.
Ice on a pool at the summit of the Cow and Calf Rocks, near Ilkley
Started by going up to the cow and calf rocks and climbing up them (well, not the calf, obviously). Bitterly cold, so didn’t hang about, except to take a few photos. Then drove further up into the moor before returning to town. Called in at museum that I had looked up on the web, but it was half closed – the art gallery half – which was disappointing. Returned to original cafe and had a cup of tea and a muffin, then read a while before getting some fuel and returning to the school. I was on time, but Dot and Barbara did not emerge until 30 minutes later, by which time I was getting a mite chilly.
Set off for home about 6.30pm, and again the first part of the 230-mile journey was tiresome – very slow and visibility bad because of our faulty lights. After we hit the A1, however it was very straightforward: we drove all the way down to Huntingdon and then down the A14 as far as the Cambridge services, where we got a little food and Dot took over the driving. Home without further incidents. Weather conditions good, though cold.
Cold again today. I made a small attempt at catching up, then had to go out to North Walsham for a Paston session in the library, Discovered the librarian, Sue Lawrence, was the daughter of Mrs Hicks, mayor of Little London in my EDP column and a good friend of Mrs Cousens. She seemed pleased to see me. Jo and Rob also there for another researching local history session with Richard Hoggett. Refuelled the car in Norwich afterwards, refilled the screenwashers and watched a bit of TV. Now it’s started to snow, and more is forecast.
Only the year is different: Jessie celebrates last year at the Banningham Crown. This year same Jessie, same place, same pavlova.
Jessie is having her bathroom noisily rebuilt – to a plan by Roger – and so we took her out yesterday to lunch at the Gunton Arms (Elderton Grange reincarnated in more pubby but still upmarket mode). More accurately, as it turned out, she took us out for lunch, but as it was a snack and a drink, I decided to allow it. My smoked salmon pate and toast was delicious; Jessie had a venison sausage roll and Dot a smoked salmon and cream cheese bagel. All very good, with deer in the background and a touch of sun – which was a change from yesterday, when it hardly got light at all.
This was the second meal out with Jessie in less than week. As I mentioned last time, we went for an evening meal to the Banningham Crown last Saturday with Jessie, Roger and Liz, and that was excellent too. I had a game pie, followed by an impressive pavlova. If you had a league table of service standards, the Crown would be at the top: welcoming, efficient and very friendly throughout. Food is good too. Not entirely convinced that the garage has fixed my lights – in fact pretty sure it hasn’t, but I really can’t be bothered to go back. They will have to sort them out when they do the service in the middle of February.
After preaching on the wedding at Cana on Sunday I watched Senna, a film that David had got me for Apple TV. It was excellent: Senna himself came over very well, and the ending was particularly poignant, with an inevitability about it. Funny how all this background story totally passes you by at the time.
On Monday evening we went to a planning meeting at the vicarage. Nicholas has an idea about introducing a monthly Sunday evening service aimed at people who are turned off by “church”. It’s a communion service, but much simpler and with no hymns. Obviously. I managed to avoid getting too involved, although I’m in favour of it. I have enough to do at St Augustine’s at the moment – as well as organising the services, I’ve been dealing with the accounts this week, trying to get the to balance as near as I can. Hard to do it when the start point is so obscure.
Before seeing Jessie yesterday I had a visit from Rob: we had a discussion about various Paston futures. Lucy is in Papworth again with a worsening prognosis, and I’m not sure when she’ll emerge. I’ve spoken to her on the phone a couple of times, and she seems remarkably cheerful.
At the end of a damp and gloomy week, there is a touch of sun in the sky. And there is some sense of achievement too, as I’ve finished and sent off the five poems to Ian Fosten. All I have to do now is turn up on Friday and say something about why I wrote them. “Because you asked me to” will not be an adequate answer. Dot has decided to come too, so I will have moral support. From there we will head north and stay the night at Toton by invitation, going on to Buxton the following day. I have also finished a sermon for Sunday, based fairly tightly on one I wrote exactly ten years ago.
On the subject of poems, Oliver sent me a brilliant one that he wrote at school. It’s about the moon, and called God’s eye, and has rhymes and similes and everything. Exceptionally good, IMHO, and he was sent to show it to the headmaster. Spoke to him and to Amy last night on the phone: Amy seemed to like the story I wrote for her and found it “very funny”. She thinks it’s my function to be funny, and she’s probably right. I must write her a really funny story.
Speaking of funny stories, I have just finished the current Booker prize winner, The Sense of an Ending, and it’s not funny at all. In fact it was rather disappointing, the plot depending on one character not revealing something that they had no real reason not to reveal and that was not too hard to guess anyway. I suppose it had some interest philosophically, but it belongs to a category that I find increasingly frustrating: well written but basically pessimistic and lacking in any trace of redemption. On a brighter note, I’ve now finished two of Kate Atkinson’s Brodie novels, which were unusual in combining good writing, murder and humour.
Going back in time – while Dot had a long lie-in, not knowing I’d left the house, I spent all of a chilly Tuesday morning in the garage showroom at Wrights, while a man did his best to disguise some scratches on the car caused by a vandal a few weeks ago, and another man tried to correct a problem with the direction of the lights. I think the latter was successful, but I haven’t really been able to try it out yet. Should find out this evening, when we eat at the Banningham Crown with Jessie and Roger.
I did go out to Mundesley library on Wednesday for a Paston-related Reading the Landscape session, during which Dr Richard Hoggett gave half a dozen of us some pointers on how to use computers to research local history. Difficult to pitch, you might think – and indeed one lady (out of an initial company of eight) left almost immediately after discovering it involved computers at a level beyond her expertise. Not sure what her expertise was. Rob had always intended to leave early, but another two also fell by the wayside after getting the direction they required. I could have left then too, but felt I should stay on as the only PHS representative, so I lingered. However, after 90 minutes I departed as well.
On Thursday Dot discovered she had a Nafpht meeting at Thurton, which interrupted our “day off” together. However it gave me a chance to finish off my poems. By way of compensation we went for lunch to Frankie & Benny’s, which seemed to be making an attempt on the Three Horseshoes slow service record until I complained, when the main course miraculously appeared. Staff were very apologetic, and the food, to be fair, was excellent. In the evening we went to the cinema to see The Iron Lady, which featured a tremendous performance by Meryl Streep as Mrs Thatcher but in the end I think got the balance slightly wrong: too much dementia and not enough time given to her earlier life. Still compelling, though.
A less than brilliant picture of Dot and Kristine crossing London Bridge in late afternoon
Surprisingly, I finished Amy’s story shortly after my last post: it all came to me in a flash, just before Tuesday Group. I posted it off the next day, together with the last Little story in booklet form. I’ve also managed to write nearly two poems for Ian Fosten, so things are looking up. However, I’ve not been feeling good for a while: intermittent bursts of feeling quite peculiar, involving head and stomach and chills. Have managed to keep going with paracetamol, and much of the time I’m OK. But it keeps coming back. Not for long, I hope.
Happily Dot’s dizziness has gone. We suspect that the doctor got rid of it when she did the famous manoeuvre early last week. When Dot returned on Friday, she did it again and found that the revealing eye-fluttering had gone and she was OK – just in time for a full weekend, that started with a meal at the Robinsons in their shiny new reconstructed house.
I see I have got all out of order here. Back to Wednesday, when we had our hair done and I went to the dentist for a filling, then headed straight to Jessie’s with Dot. Last of the mince pies – or so I thought. The following day we depended on the weather forecast and were rewarded. Despite a heavy grey sky and some rain we drove to Bodham, where we had a drink at the Red Hart before heading off across the fields to Baconsthorpe Castle on one of the Coast Partnership’s trial walks. The sky quickly cleared and became bright blue, which compensated for the chill in the air.
At the castle we managed to go wrong – mainly because we’d been there before and didn’t read the directions very carefully. We reached the village by the wrong path and headed into uncharted territory – uncharted by us or the Coast Partnership, that is. We couldn’t make sense of the instructions, but relied on our sense of direction and found an alternative footpath that took us back to the castle, where it became apparent what had happened. Now on the right track, we proceeded wearily back to Bodham – 5-6 miles in all.
We spent the weekend with David and Kristine, arriving just before noon at Leyton after a smooth journey. Kristine produced a delicious Spanish crumble with chorizo sausages that would probably have been enough for the rest of the day; however, we went to Baharat Indian restaurant in the evening and had another large meal. In between, we took the tube to Bank, discovered the Northern Line was shut and spent some time walking in Bank station before we could find the way out on to the street. (Several other people were having the same problem – signs were hopeless.) Eventually we made it out and walked past Monument and across London Bridge before visiting a bookstore near David’s office.
Lovely area of London that we hadn’t visited before. We proceeded on to Tower Bridge and had tea/coffee in a busy place much frequented by David before heading for home by crossing Tower Bridge and catching the tube outside the Tower of London. Lovely day, and a beautiful, busy evening. Didn’t sleep all that well, however.
The next day we drove up to Spellbrook Three Horseshoes and experienced the slowest service anywhere in the world (possibly). Arriving just before 1pm, we met Phil, Jane, Lydia and Alistair, and then David, who had driven up from Caddington. It reached 2.30pm before our main course was served. We abandoned the potential dessert and drove to Phil Coomes’ house for Christmas cake and mince pie.
Today was Frank Mason’s funeral, and David had another long drive to arrive in good time to get to St Faith’s Crematorium with us. Nice service: afterwards most of the attendees joined Jessie and Roger at Elm Tree Farm for refreshments. Teresa was there, as were all the usual suspects. Afterwards we drove David back to ours for his return journey before joining Jessie and Liz at Roger’s for a chat and the odd drink. Later Liz left for another appointment (her daughter’s birthday celebration, I think), and the four of us ended up at Oaklands Hotel for a carvery. That wasn’t our intention, but the “proper” restaurant opened an hour later than its website promised. Nice rhubarb crumble to finish. Pretty tired now.
