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Sweet birthday candle for Jessie

Jessie with her becandled birthday meringue

Feeling pretty tired: not sure if this is a combination of a continued infection (if that’s what it is) and the stronger antibiotics that the doctor gave me or just the result of a packed few days. Because of the tiredness it’s hard to tell if I’m actually feeling better, but I think I am: I don’t have the nauseous feeling any more, and the strange headiness is much diminished, but the heaviness in my abdomen is no better. The doctor wants me to get this looked at by insertion of what he calls a telescope into my nether regions. The letter for me to book an appointment has arrived, but when I tried to book, neither Norwich nor Cromer had any appointments available. I am resisting the massively uncompelling lure of Gorleston and Bury St Edmunds.

Dot meanwhile still has a back problem: she is under the chiropractor and feeling a bit better, but nervous of doing any stretching at all. Walking is a bit painful after a while. Meanwhile my brother Phil tells me that he and Joy are both suffering severe leg pains. Nevertheless he came with me this afternoon to John Lewis (before he told me about his legs) to buy a television/DVD player for Andrew. A quick operation: I had gone home for the car and returned to pick it up within half an hour. Just hope Andrew will be able to use it. I’m dropping it off on the way to Derbyshire on Friday.

Yesterday I had a bit of déjà vu at Wicklewood, where I had been invited to talk about journalism for a modest fee. Year 6 class and teacher proved very amenable once I had managed to find the way into the school, and it all came back to me. Seemed to go well: I enjoyed it anyway. Afterwards I met Dot at Park Farm for lunch. In the evening I played Steve Crane at chess and won on time after seeing a winning combination earlier and wrongly dismissing it. Made hard work of the whole thing.

I made my first tentative stabs at being church treasurer last Thursday, when I called round Vicky’s for an explanation of how it worked. Seemed reasonably straightforward (hah!), but she is hanging on to the accounts until she finishes them off for last year and reconciles a discrepancy on the statement.

The next day we went to the Banningham Crown for a birthday lunch with Jessie. Also present: Roger, Jude and Philip; Janet and Ray and their daughter Judy and her husband Don. Meal and service were first-class; they even lit a birthday candle for Jessie and stuck it in her sweet. Went back to Jessie’s for tea and coffee and suddenly realised it was 5.45pm, and we were supposed to be helping to set up St Luke’s for Robert Beckford at 6.30pm. Well, we were a bit late, but there were plenty of helpers. RB is a theologian who makes documentaries for Channel 4, and he was very challenging on “picking a fight” with people who were persecuting the poor. He highlighted the USA’s exploitation of Ghana by dumping subsidised rice there and ruining the local farmers, with appalling results (teenage girls leaving the villages and working in town brothels). Hard to understand how people can do this and still sleep at night.

Dot has just returned from visiting another school (Wreningham) and the odd shop on the way back. She heard a story on the radio about headlines, which included one about a road crash on the Azores, where there were only two roads and only one crossroads on the island. Azores a first time. Olé.

High quality exhibition

Flooding on Carey's Meadow at the bottom of Harvey Lane, where I went for a walk a couple of days ago

I’ve been feeling a bit rough this past week, off and on. Not sure if it’s the antibiotics or an infection. Yesterday was bad; today is a bit better. I’m seeing the doctor this afternoon on what I believe is known as an unrelated matter – results of recent blood test – so I will mention it to him. Meanwhile Dot’s back is not much better, and she is seeing the chiropractor tomorrow. We’re going to Derbyshire the weekend after next, and it would be nice if she was fit enough to walk in the hills. It would be nice if I was too.

On Sunday after church we went to a big exhibition by Martin Laurance at Mandell’s Gallery in Elm Hill. As expected, very high quality, but nothing actually screamed “Buy me” at us. Even if it had, we probably wouldn’t have been able to afford it. Many of the usual crowd were there: Annette, Mike, Teri, Caroline, Hilary Mellon among others. Had a quick chat with Martin too. Very pleasant hour: we parked in the Monastery car park, which I think was full of exhibition-goers’ cars. It’s normally empty on a Sunday. We only drove there because we had to go somewhere else first (he hastened to add).

Yesterday Dot had lunch with Anne and was in the city till late afternoon. Much of the time she spent at the exhibition I went to last week. I meanwhile was stocking up at the supermarket in preparation for a large Tuesday Group: 12, if you count month-old George. Just about capacity, I think. We started watching The Nativity, but TM only managed about three minutes, saying it was too Anglicised. Not sure what that meant. He started trying to explain afterwards, but his argument was rather weakened by his only having seen about three minutes of it.

Today Barbara is here, working with Dot on their Philosophy4Children days at Dudley next month. I spoke to Maryta on the phone and discovered she had to cancel her holiday because of her back, which is still far from good. She finds any kind of travel by car difficult; needless to say, she’s still going in to work, mainly by rail. At least there’s no snow to stop her: it’s turned colder again, but blue sky the last couple of days.

OK, I’ve been to the doctor now, and he was ecstatic about my blood. I don’t think  he’s a vampire: it was more that the PSA level was about as low as it can be, which is very good news. He also gave me some stronger antibiotics for the urinary tract infection, and I’ve going to have a something-oscopy to see if my bowel is OK – mainly because I still have this tight, heavy feeling in my lower abdomen. We both think it’s scar tissue, but he wants to be sure. Sorry if that’s too much information.

We’ve just heard that Rosemary has gone into hospital for tests after having severe vomiting. OK, enough information.

I’ve just read Natural Mechanical, by J O Morgan, which I got for Christmas. It’s an extended poem about a lad from Skye who is a kind of naive genius at living off nature, but also brilliant with anything mechanical. Beautifully written, with elements of Dylan Thomas but also very distinctively different. I heard the author read at Aldeburgh and was much taken by it: the book sold out at the festival shop almost immediately, so others must have been taken by it too. Some lovely touches.

Startling red

Dramatic sky over Thorpe Road offices

Feeling woozy and a bit achy this morning, but I don’t think it’s flu: I think it’s the antibiotics I’m on for a UT infection. I’m about to have my hair cut, so monitoring the effects of that should be interesting. Our hairdresser Linda, normally blonde, has arrived with startling red hair, so I shall have to keep my eye on her. The weather has turned much milder, but there’s been a fair bit of rain, with the usual flooding in the Tas valley.

The recycling stuff hasn’t been collected since before Christmas, so yesterday Dot and I went to the tip and were strangely exhilarated by getting rid of a carload. Later, and coincidentally, a council guy came round and explained the new system; happily, he also noticed the mounds of uncollected rubbish in the street and made inquiries. He was told it had been collected, which must be one of the least convincing lies ever told.

The week began, as I mentioned last time, with Dot and Barbara doing a philosophy session at Dulwich College prep school: very good result – both of them extremely impressed with the school and hoping for a return match. In the evening I got a good result myself, winning quite a good game against a player ranked higher than me. It was in fact the return match of our club A and B teams, and the B team won 2½-1½. (Burrows ½, Moore 1, Tuffin 0, Lenton 1)

Apart from my annoying UT infection, Dot managed to injure her back and was incapacitated for a couple of days. She’s still pretty stiff. Both feeling our age for a while, but no doubt it will pass, though of course there will come a time when it doesn’t. Meanwhile I’ve been landed with the job of DCC treasurer, at least on a temporary basis, and am going for a clarification session with our current treasurer, Vicky, next week. Vicky has recently given birth to George, who isn’t quite ready to take the job over yet.

As I was in the city a couple of days ago and feeling rather below par I decided to go and see the Art of Faith exhibition at the Castle Museum. It occurred to me that if I was getting flu (for example) it would be closed before I recovered. Dot obviously wants to see it too, but she was happy that I went. Sometimes you miss things simply because you can’t co-ordinate as a couple. Still, we did get together to go to the cinema last night for The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, the latest Narnia film, in 3D. Pretty spectacular and nicely done, I thought, justifying its good reviews. The exhibition was also good, though I don’t get as blown away as some people by artefacts and the guesses as to their functions. Some nice artwork, though, and interesting links to the Paston period, including Oxburgh Hall. I did enjoy the exhibition film Something Understood, which cut the practising of different faiths with shots of the Norfolk countryside; and a stunning painting by a Baha’i artist.

On leaving, and after buying the catalogue book for Dot, I was accosted by a woman doing market research about my museum experience and was reminded how useless such research is (How many times have you been to a museum in the last year? I have no idea; let’s say four.) The woman was interesting, though: on  hearing I was a writer, she revealed that she’s written a book called I’m a Street Girl Now which, in case you were wondering, is about her market research experiences. Not often you come across a marker research person with a sense of humour.

I’ve just finished Freedom, by Jonathan Franzen – a quite long American novel given to me (together with four others) by David Coomes. I quite enjoyed it: it was witty and you got involved with the characters, though you never really liked any of them. At least, I didn’t. It did have some striking things to say – by implication– on the nature of freedom, though you did wonder if it would all have worked out so nicely if one of the main characters hadn’t been killed in a road accident.

OK, I’ve had my haircut now and am reminded of some lines from once-Poet Laureate Alfred Austin on the medical condition of the King at the time: Across the wires the electric message came / He is no better, he is much the same.

Philosophical encounter

Temperatures are up a bit, but it’s turning windy and, after today, wet, we are told. Yesterday I went for a 3.5-mile walk round the outskirts of the city centre, as it were. Felt very cold and rather unwell at first, but things improved. Dot had just left for South London for her philosophical encounter with Dulwich College Prep School. She picked up Barbara on the way and then drove to the Hendersons’, where they stayed the night, before arising at some unearthly hour to drive to the prep school. Although this is only seven or eight miles, it took them an hour,  mainly along the South Circular. Rumour has it that the session went well, but they are not back yet. Afterwards they had something to eat and then spoke to the head of the junior section of Eltham College, with a view to philosophical activity there in the future.

Ironically, in view of her picture two posts back, Maryta is now in quite bad pain after a fall from a horse – so bad in fact that she is considering cancelling her horse-riding holiday. To anyone who knows Maryta, that means it must be very bad indeed, but not of course bad enough to stop her going into work. That requires death, or at least unconsciousness.

Things have been quiet here, especially after I tidied the house up. Earlier this afternoon I went to the supermarket in the MX5 and deposited some recyclable stuff that the council persistently declines to collect. This morning I went to the Post Office and submitted applications for our new passports. We both look miserable, of course. This is partly because you mustn’t smile in a passport photo, but also because we’re never quite sure the machine is working properly.

Room at the village inn


Rather pleased with the quality of this iPhone picture taken near Carrow Bridge a couple of days ago.

Snow has returned, but not for us. Quite severe in the Midlands, but we have a grey, wet and thoroughly uninviting day, and Dot is about to go into the city to lunch with Anne, who is celebrating her retirement. In view of the rain, I shall probably drive her up there.

Things have been quiet after the excitement of Christmas and New Year. For me, that is. Dot has been busy: first, preparing for and then delivering her presentation on the distinctiveness of a church school to staff from Easton, Hockering and Great Witchingham. The event was held at Ringland – not on the hills but at the village inn – and went very well. Since then she has been preparing for her Philosophy4Children event at Dulwich College Prep School, who have just rung up to check what she needs in the way of IT support and accommodation. Refreshingly professional of them, and reassuring for Dot.

As for me, I have managed a walk or two – the longer of them yesterday, when I paid in church collection money before calling at Phyllis Seaman’s to check that she was OK: she’s normally a regular at church but hasn’t been seen since the Sunday before Christmas, when she had a bad cold. She’s in her 80s and has no phone, so it’s hard to contact her. She was out when I called, but a neighbour said he’d seen her shopping recently, so she must be well enough to get around.

Yesterday, on twelfth night, we took down the Christmas decorations and deposited them in the loft. The house looked very bare without them, but at the same time tidier.

Last night England won the final test match against Australia, which meant they won the series 3-1. A historic achievement, especially as their victories were all by an innings. Makes you wonder how they managed to lose in Perth. Lots of Australian jokes going round, many of them weak, along the lines of What do you call an Australian with 100 against his name? A bowler. I think it was Graham Swann who said that over-the-top celebrations were out of order. Quite right: things can change so quickly in cricket, and there is a huge amount of luck involved. This does not stop me being delighted, however.

Had my six-monthly blood test the other day. Always a time for holding my breath, but I feel OK.

What have I let myself in for?

Brilliantly exposed shot catching the speed at which Maryta demonstrates how to bend, or possibly how not to.

So here we are in 2011, and here too is my 500th post. The year hasn’t shown any very promising signs yet, and some might say the same about the blog. I suppose it’s more a diary than a blog, but it’s a way of keeping track. Aiming to keep on the path less travelled, but tending to drift. The weather is a bit milder, but damp and grey, rather like a slight hangover.

Things have gone quiet with the departure of David, Oliver and Amy, two of whom have now transferred to Nottingham for a few days. Dot is revelling in her new MacBook Air (after we sorted out one or two issues), and I am just revelling, in a quiet way. The real extrovert revelling was on New Year’s Eve, led by Amy, who was surprisingly resistant to falling asleep and stayed up, with Oliver, until midnight. A born organiser, she made sure we played games and had fun, and didn’t doze off. Oliver was also lively right up to the wire. Where they get the energy from, I have no idea, unless they are extracting it from me in some way. I did manage to create a New Year Quiz, which David won despite disputing some of the answers.

Dot cooked a lovely Greek lamb and garlic meal, and I did sausages for the children, with pasta for Amy and potatoes for Oliver. We were joined by Anne and Philip, who survived the experience remarkably well and seemed to have a good time.

David and the children packed and departed by just after noon on New Year’s Day, which left us just about time to clear up before the arrival of Paul and Maryta for afternoon tea. During this Dot was offered a job as consultant, which may prove interesting.

Yesterday I preached at St Augustine’s on Epiphany – seeing the light. As usual I didn’t feel it came out quite right, but several people said they liked it. Howard led, and Vicky M brought her new baby, George, who is only a couple of weeks old and looked gorgeous, but with a slight air of “what have I let myself in for?” I guess most babies have that, with every justification. I suspect babies know more than they are telling.

Afterwards we went to see A Ethel, who has not been well over Christmas. She looked very frail. Dot made her a cup of tea and promised to return today, which she did, preparing her a little bit of lunch. Hard being alone in your late 80s when you’re not mobile. Dot is now preparing for a session she’s doing tomorrow on “The distinctiveness of a church school” for some staff in the Ringland area. At least, that’s where she’s doing it. I don’t know where the staff are from.

In the loft with the children

Andrew playing on the giant wooden xylophone at Dunston Common, where we went for a walk on Boxing Day.

This will have to be a quick one. Dot is in the loft with the children, and David has gone into the city. I haven’t finished preparing the New Year quiz, and I’m sure I’ll be in demand very soon. Hold on – yes, Amy wanted to come out of the loft. Now she’s gone up again.

We’ve had a pretty busy Christmas, which I suppose goes without saying. I fetched Andrew from Coventry on Christmas Eve and took him back on the 27th – two drives of nearly 300 miles, which was tiring, although road conditions were good each time. David arrived in Norwich on Christmas Eve – about an hour after I got back with Andrew – then went back for the children on Boxing Day, then left again on Wednesday to visit the Coomes at Bishop’s Stortford and go on to Caddington before returning here with the children yesterday afternoon. They are staying until tomorrow. Are you following this?

The cold weather has thankfully abated, to leave a murky greyness, which is not exactly thrilling but doesn’t obstruct the traffic. Dot and I went to Christmas Eve Midnight Communion and led Silent Night on guitar; we also did a couple of readings and I assisted with the chalice (slightly unnecessarily). The church was warmer than I expected, and I took the collection away in the absence of treasurer Vicky, looking after her new baby, George.

Jessie, Roger and Philip joined us for Christmas Day, which went well, with the help of a lovely bird from Morrisons and some of Jessie’s scrumptious mince pies. Andrew seemed to enjoy himself. Phil, Joy, Sam and Lucy came round on the morning of the 27th, and I took Andrew over to Clarke’s to get some new shoes. The planned new TV/DVD player will have to wait till things calm down. Andrew seemed short of clothes when I fetched him, and I meant to give him some of mine, but forgot at the last minute. I will probably send him a parcel.

On the 28th David, Oliver and I went into the city, and I bought Dot a new MacBook Air, which David has now set up for her. I also got a cover for my iPhone, and Oliver one for his iPod. Apple seems to work on a different price structure to everything else on the planet, but we go on buying from them, because their stuff is so good. A lesson for others? Or not?

Now Dot and the children are at the shops, buying prizes for tonight’s New Year quiz. So I’d better work on some questions. Should just mention that among many other brilliant presents (some solid reading and watching ahead) David and Bridget came round last night to bring us a voucher for afternoon tea at the Assembly House. Must lose weight.

Worst-case scenario

Dot walking up the drive to Buck Brigg

Intended to pick up Andrew from Coventry, but worst-case scenario materialised: no, not wall-to-wall snowdrifts, but uncertainty about the drive back. Sleet and snow was predicted for the entire route, so discretion won out over valour, and I postponed the attempt until tomorrow. Not sure if this was the right decision, but it did enable me to finish off my pre-Christmas tasks: lots of cardboard and other rubbish to the tip; hit-and-run card to Phyllis Todd (car park crammed); old books to charity shop; cheque paid in; and took bus to see Kathleen with card and book on Zimbabwe (The Last Resort) that I thought she might like to read. I was picked up from Kathleen’s by Dot, which gave her the chance to bring her a plant. All good.

The haircuts passed off without incident on Thursday, and were followed by a present-bearing trip out to North-East Norfolk, starting at Aunt Sheila’s and continuing at Sainsbury’s and then a bitterly cold cemetery. We went on to make a brave foray out to Buck Brigg on less-than-ideal roads. This went smoothly on the outward journey, but on the way back we had trouble emerging up a slope on to the Hanworth Road and I had to take a run at it, with Dot keeping a lookout for oncoming traffic. Then I skidded impressively turning the corner in Swafield in an attempt to get some momentum for the upcoming hill. Managed to recover and make it up the hill, thanks to nothing coming the other way. Roads very slushy. Temperature hovering around freezing, but main roads just wet – until we reached Aspland Road, which mysteriously had a covering of snow. After Buck Brigg we had mince pies at Jessie’s. She does make a good mince pie.

Couple of cancellations on Monday and Tuesday. Didn’t make it to the chess tournament on Monday; instead did some work on the loft door to make it shut properly – as well as wrapping some presents. Or was that Tuesday? I think it was, because most of Monday afternoon (after Lucy called round for my signature on a Paston document) was spent at Joe and Birgit’s. We thought it was just for drinks, but it turned out to be proper sit-down party food, and very nice too.

On Tuesday I was in and out of some shops, I seem to remember. We also had to cancel the Tuesday Group too after the Archers had some kind of stomach bug. But on the plus side, Julia and Allan called round in the morning after their return from the South-West – a journey  which turned out not to be as bad as expected. There has been some really bad weather in places, but not everywhere – or at least not everywhere at the same time. It all reminds me of 1963: very cold, and snow lying on the ground, but not an awful lot falling. That’s in Norfolk, anyway.

Brave lads beaten by snow

Wintry glimpse through our front door at night

And so the new cold-type winter continues. Dashed out to A Ethel’s on Thursday to fetch forgotten item to be relayed elsewhere, and got back just in time to enable Dot to take the front-wheel-drive car to Thurton for a farewell do at the school. Snow was forecast, and there was sleet on the bypass, so it seemed sensible not to take the MX5, but in the event she was able to get there and back fairly easily. I gather she spent much of the time with one of her old admirers, who is rather well known around Norwich, so I had better not reveal his name. She has so many old admirers, unsurprisingly.

Snow overnight put the Archant Christmas Lunch at risk, and the brave lads from EDP subs all declined to risk the journey. So I found myself on a table dominated by Evening News subs, which was a bit unnerving. But I had my former training colleague Frances Burrows to my right, together with ex-electronics engineer Ken Prentice, who is quite a talker. So we held fast, even during a speech by Archant Norfolk chief executive Stephan Phillips which didn’t quite catch the mood, although I thought it was amusing.

Very cold on Saturday, so Dot and I walked to Morrisons and found that walking on packed snow was relatively easy. However, we didn’t fancy taking the car to Menita’s in the evening for her annual Christmas party, which consisted largely of sweet and sticky Euro-cake, mulled wine and the Italian version of tombola. So we got an A2B taxi, which didn’t fancy coming up our hill, so we met it at the bottom. Pleasant couple of hours in a multi-national way: sat next to Italian woman with almost perfect English. France and Germany were also represented.  Eugenia was away in Italy with Francesca, so her husband Roberto stood in. He is from South America and speaks Portuguese. Needless to say everyone could speak English, and did. Taxi took us home by about 11.30 and although tired, we watched highlights of Norwich City’s win earlier in the day before going to bed.

Today was hectic: our St Augustine’s alternative carol service, followed by  Christmas lunch. Unloading the car at the outset took an age, because Dot was supplying some of the food, plus table dressings, and then there were the musical instruments, stands and a few presents and cards. Nicholas was already there with Harriet, so the place was warm.

I was slightly panicky about the organisation of the service, which was in my hands as usual. Because it’s impossible to get anyone to rehearse, we had to plunge right into it, and I was leading, playing music, singing (sometimes) and taking part in the drama. My guitar playing wasn’t up to much, but we got through, and everyone seemed to think it had gone well, to my amazement. I used a couple of my songs, a couple of my poems and a new drama I’d written. It’s nice to have the opportunity, but I do wonder sometimes if I’m monopolising the whole thing. The fact is that they seem to like my getting on with it, because it means no-one else has to worry.

The lunch was a joint effort because Vicky had just produced a baby boy, George, and is in no position… It all went very well; too many cooks did not spoil the broth, and the food was delicious. Very nice to have the two Green girls, Anandi and Bethany, there. Had quite a long chat with Beth, who is thinking of applying to Oxbridge to read geography, but a bit worried about the work involved.

Spent much of the afternoon and early evening wrapping presents. Still very cold outside. Our haircuts have been postponed until Wednesday. What kind of margin for error does that leave us?

Cold and misty landscape

The stunning village of Kersey, in Suffolk

Lots going on, as you might expect for the time of year, and more travelling too. Last Saturday Dot and I went with Phil to watch Norwich City lose 2-0 to Portsmouth. Actually, that’s not why we went – we went to see them win, but I suppose our run of seeing only victories had to end some time. Phil came because Jonathan had three spare tickets. Quite a pleasant day, but it got cold rapidly after darkness fell.

Huge amounts to to take to church on Sunday, what with Christmas presents and music stands, and it was one of those mornings where things did not run smoothly. Nevertheless, an excellent talk from Mark Heybourne and a good atmosphere, with Howard leading. Dot was playing at a Julian Window music and meditation event later, and I picked her up so that she could come home and change before going (driven by Heather Cracknell) to an evening meal (cheeses,quince jelly, beef wellington) with the Archers at the home of the Greens, who must come close to being the perfect hosts. Lovely food and intelligent conversation, with plenty of humour.  And Bridget drove us home, so I didn’t have to watch my wine consumption too carefully.

Highlight of Monday was my chess win for Dons B against a player ranked well above me. I didn’t play the opening well and got into a position where I had to sacrifice the exchange for a pawn to avoid losing my queen. But after that he played too passively and got into bad time trouble: I got a really nice attack and sacrificed a knight which won against anything really, but with seconds left he played the worst line, and walked into a mate. Satisfying, but not the prefect game by any means. We lost the match 3-1.

On Tuesday Dot and I ventured into Suffolk again. Dot left fairly early for Metfield, where she spent much of the day planning for a P4C event at Dulwich College Prep School in January. After rushing around preparing in various ways for Christmas, I joined her late in the afternoon, after nearly losing the MX5 in a skid on mud near Harleston. I would say it was beautifully controlled, but there was nothing very beautiful about it: I just reacted instinctively and apparently did the right thing, since I was still on the road at the end of it. We left the MX5 at Metfield and drove to Little Waldingfield, near Sudbury, after a tortuous, dark drive down the A143 in a tail behind a huge lorry doing a constant 40mph. In the end we took an alternative route and heard on the radio immediately afterwards that we had avoided a big hold-up. Still not easy, though, and even after we got to Little Waldingfield (after taking the wrong road out of Lavenham because of a misleading map) we took ages to find the B&B. I walked up and down the main street, then we looked at the directions and found that the place was far from where the computer postcode-generated map indicated it would be. All got a bit tense, but the place itself was fine, though not nearly as grand as it seemed on the web.

Our B&B at Little Waldingfield: hard to find, but a nice breakfast

The following day there was ice on the windscreen, and after an excellent breakfast I had to scrape around before dropping Dot at Great Waldingfield School, which left me about seven hours to fill. I returned to the B&B for a bath and cup of tea, then ventured out into a cold, misty landscape that had nothing very appealing about it at first. First stop was Lavenham Church, where I talked to a couple of people, including a guy burning solidified candle wax off a candle holder. The previous night we had dined at the Swan Inn (excellent fish and chips, ate too much) and met another guy who was staying at our B&B. He had mentioned the window at Lavenham Church and told us about a man who had shown him the sunset through it, which he describesad an unforgettable experience – “as if it was on fire”. It turned out that the candle-burning guy was the man he had met. What are the chances of that happening? Well, reasonably high, because he was the verger, but still unexpected.

After this I drove into the middle of Lavenham and walked briefly, but it was very cold. So I drove to Kersey, a village recommended on a leaflet I’d bought at the church. It was truly stunning: a long narrow street running down steeply on both sides into a valley, with a ford running through. I drove right through and up to the church, where I stopped briefly. Very nice feeling to the whole area. Not far away I stopped at the 13th century St James’s Chapel, which was bare and cold, but atmospheric. Wanting to warm up I drove into Sudbury, then back to Lavenham, where I bought a cheese baguette and took it back to a viewpoint not far from the chapel, where I ate and read for a while. Afterwards I drove on again through beautiful countryside (despite the damp and mucky weather) and even found Kettlebaston, home of one of Dot’s college friends. Unfortunately I also found lots of mud, stemming from the sugar beet harvesting going on nearby. When we got home later I had to get the car cleaned, as well as checking the tyres and replenishing the screen-wash.

After hearing from Dot that she would be finished by 4pm, I paid a brief visit to Long Melford, but it was getting too dark to see much, so I returned to wait for Dot, who had unsurprisingly found the school outstanding. We drove home by the normal route, but it was tiring, because of the diversion to pick up the MX5 at Metfield, and it was over two hours before we arrived in Norwich.

Today it is raining steadily and we are awaiting icy conditions again, with a threat of a white Christmas on the horizon. I say “threat” because of the difficulty it might cause with travelling for David, the grandchildren and myself. Dot is out doing a bit of essential shopping: picking up some table coverings for church, mainly. I’ve just finished another poem, which I’m quite pleased with. After a period of writing nothing much, I’ve written several in the past few weeks. Quite exciting. For me, not for anyone else.