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Unsticking the pump

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The Thames at Henley, from a couple of weeks back

Feeling shattered this morning after a terrible night. Dot woke me in the early hours to say the central heating had failed to switch off again: I managed to unstick the pump valve by hitting it (yes, that is the approved method), but by then I was too awake to go back to sleep, and very little sleep followed at all, despite a busy day yesterday.

I had taken an hour to get out to Paston after getting stuck behind a very slow-moving convoy of agricultural vehicles on a road (Salhouse-Wroxham) where there was no alternative route. Went on and on, and when there was an alternative, leaving Wroxham, I found myself in tiny lanes behind another vehicle (a car this time) travelling less than 20mph! I was not in a good mood by the time I arrived for the Paston Heritage Society trustees’ meeting (Lucy, Jo and me), which lasted for nearly two hours. Journey back was much easier, but after a brief meal I was out again, this time with Dot, to the First Thursdays Ambient Wonder meeting at the Workshop cafe. Can’t pretend I enjoyed this – noisy discussions are not my forte – but Dot had a good time, I think. This morning she is at a Diocesan team-building meeting at the King of Hearts, where I delivered her shortly after 9am. When I pick her up at about 3.30pm, we will be off for a weekend at Aldeburgh. Feel more like a weekend in bed.

British Summer Time is over, and the weather turned wintry immediately, though it’s now milder. Dark early evenings are not much fun. On the bright side, David came up on Monday and stayed the night. He went to two meetings – one with NAfPHT and one with Howard’s company to chat about making a website tender. (I have been doing more work for Howard too.) David not only gave me his old iPhone as a late birthday present but kindly queued up at the O2 shop to sort out a sim card for me. I am now technologically at the cutting edge, or at least slightly nearer to it. Sadly I was pre-booked for a chess match at Lowestoft on the Monday evening, so I had to leave mother and son alone together, which I’m sure was nice for them. Despite knowing Lowestoft quite well, I managed to get lost while trying to find the venue and arrived late; on the plus side I won the game, and we drew the match 2-2.

Last weekend Dot and I took sandwiches to church and ate them with a cup of tea before shooting off to Wroxham to visit her Uncle Frank, who seemed physically in quite good shape. Afterwards we took Jessie home and stayed for tea and delicious mince pies. You don’t get shortcrust pastry like that just anywhere.

Digging for water

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Tackling a leak outside our house.

Fortunately for Norwich City manager Paul Lambert, his team won last Saturday (1-0 against Middlesbrough). Dot was in the stands, so I wouldn’t have liked to be in his shoes if they’d lost. She doesn’t go often, but Jonathan had a spare ticket. I didn’t go, because I had a poetry reading at Cromer, as part of the COAST festival. The Paston travelling exhibition had a small room in the Garden Gallery, next to Mary Jane’s renowned fish and chip shop, which was unfortunately a bigger attraction, especially as the weather was cold, wet and windy. Still, we had a good time: I read a couple of poems, and Jo did a really lively talk in the absence of Lucy (in hospital again with a serious infection). Caroline was also there. She has just won the EDP-Jarrolds East Anglian Book Award for poetry, which is well-deserved. She’s a very deep writer. I myself have just entered another couple of competitions and am getting back into the habit of writing poems, which must be good.

On Monday I performed my first function as a Paston Heritage Society trustee and attended a meeting in the parish church between the PCC and PHS members. Very strange atmosphere and extremely cold too. I had my maximum winter clothing on, and it’s still October. The meeting went off well, though, and there was a general feeling of agreement about the way things would go – except of course for the pews. I sometimes feel that removal of pews is the main theological issue facing churches in the 21st century. Someone is always against it. OK, it’s not theological. I don’t know what it is.

The cold weather continued into Tuesday, when we had to host the Tuesday Group at the last moment because Vicky wasn’t too well: she’s having a hard time (baby due early December). Small group but a good discussion on using our gifts. People who don’t normally say much had an opportunity to speak because people who normally do weren’t there. Not Vicky, since you ask.

Weather turned warm suddenly on Wednesday, which was good timing as we had our hair cut. Huge difference in temperature: both Dot and I went out with too many clothes on and got back sweating, if you’ll pardon the expression. Yesterday and today a bit chillier. Sue and Roger came round for lunch yesterday and we had a great time putting the world to rights, talking until about 6pm. Recommended David’s website expertise, and showed off our Apple TV, which Sue was much taken with.

In the evening I finally booked a man to put in a couple of radiators in mid-November, though I’m still a little uneasy, as I always am when we have something big done. As I speak, May Gurney on behalf of Anglian Water are digging up the road outside, which doesn’t comfort me at all. And as usual the recycling stuff hasn’t been collected. Dot is probably en route from Beccles having given a lift to one of our carless church members to visit her niece, who coincidentally is the former head teacher of David’s primary school. Who’d have thought it?

Amy reaches half a dozen

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Amy in Lion Wood
Six-year-old Amy pathfinding in Lion Wood.

Colin has just finished cutting our hedge – very bravely without the use of an aqualung. It tipped down for the first couple of hours, but it has now finished, and it’s bright but a little windy. Later today Dot is going to the football match, courtesy of Jonathan’s spare ticket, and I shall be off later in the afternoon to Cromer for a poetry reading.

Yesterday the grandchildren returned home with their father after staying with us for a couple of action-packed days. We travelled down in very cold weather (2C) to Caddington on Wednesday afternoon for Amy’s sixth birthday, and after birthday tea we brought them home and put them to bed. No sign of dozing off in the car nowadays. The next day we had to wake early for the piano tuner, and Oliver took a keen interest in what was going on. Later we went for a walk in Lion Wood, where they enjoyed the hills, and ended up in Pilling Park. Oliver was very tired because he’d slept badly, so we returned to the car and drove round to pick Dot and Amy up. However, they’d found a high wire and no children around, so Amy had been whizzing up and down, as had Flopsy. Oliver then had a resurgence of energy and had several goes on the wire and on other equipment. Afterwards drove to Venta Icenorum, because Oliver is doing a school project on Boudicca. Eventually found a Boudicca’s Way sign for him to photograph with his iPod. Most signs were either falling apart or vandalised. Early night for both as they were exhausted and Dot was off to a DCC meeting that I was quite relieved to avoid. I read them a book and they were both reading in bed on their own before going to sleep. Oliver was interested in the Children’s Bible that he found.

Yesterday we took them up to the Castle Museum to view the Boudicca Room. Amy wasn’t keen on Boudicca, or on stuffed animals, as she’s quite a sensitive little soul, but Oliver took some more pictures of coins, pots and notices. We paid a visit to the shop and then had a snack in the cafe before I returned home to dress in a suit for a special Archant reception at the Cathedral Hostry to mark 140 years of the EDP. Just a snack, wine and a chat really, but it was good to reminisce with so many former colleagues for 90 minutes or so. I shall name as many as I can here, starting with the ones I spoke to (more than 20): Keith Skipper, Biddy Collyer, Roy Strowger, Grace Corne and Rex Hancey (columnists); Ian Collins, Rosemary Dixon and Annette Hudson (who had put the exhibition together); Bill Smith (photographer); John Cushion, Richard Batson, Ian Clarke and Alison Croose (current and former chief reporters); current editor Pete Waters and his PA Sandra Mackay; former editor Peter Franzen with his wife Kathy; leader writer Colin Chinery; features editor Sarah Hardy; feature writers Steve Snelling and Angie Kennedy; plus training school head David Paull and David Newham, with whom I had a long chat about writing and putting on plays. Also glimpsed in distance: Peter Hannam, Trevor Burton’s father, Richard Bond and Jacqui Meadows. Notable absentees: Martin Throssell and Paul Durrant. Wine good quality, sandwiches quite acceptable, considering they were taken from packs bought from local supermarket. Afterwards returned home to find kitchen dominated by two dens. Oliver completed his five facts about Boudicca very quickly, and has his pictures in reserve. He then beat me at Tri-Tactics. Still, I had won my chess game on Monday, so I could take it without whimpering.

David arrived around 5.30pm, and at 6 we went to Prezzo’s for a meal. Children both quite tired, but ate fairly well, though Amy found it hard to stay upright. They left not long afterwards, leaving behind only a giant ladybird, a homework book and the melody line to Let it Be. Of course we didn’t know that till afterwards.

Sing what you always sing

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Vicki and Dot
Another picture from the recent celebration of Joan's 70th birthday: Vicki Ellis and Dot

Have seen quite a lot of my family recently. Last Thursday Dot and I called in to see Aunt Josephine, who was her usual lively self and revealed that my mother once heard a talk she gave and asked her: “Did Frank write it?” This received the indignation it deserved, because Josephine is still talented and much in demand in the talks department, but it does reveal my mother’s attitude, which is typical of her generation, that the men were top dogs. Sad, because she herself was talented both academically and in sports when she was younger. And from what I know of my father, he wouldn’t have dominated her in any way, except possibly to assume that the man is responsible for the family.

The next day we had an evening meal (fish pie) at Joe and Birgit’s, which is a hard thing to write as I am very hungry at the moment, and my lunch pie has half an hour to cook. Dot is at Stibbard, doing a church school inspection. We had a good evening at Joe’s (or should I say Birgit’s? ;-)) and then I saw them again the next day as I had taken away Joe’s anorak instead of mine by mistake, so had to drive round and exchange them. And yet again on Sunday, when we were at Phil and Joy’s preparing to listen to a CD by Eleanor Mumford that came highly recommended by Phil. It was good too, but there was definite sense of déjà vu about it. Or déjà écouté, possibly. Joe and Birgit called round and listened too.

Another family connection: my cousin Pat, who lives in Stamford, wrote out of the blue inquiring about our ancestors. (Strange that Phil is not in the least interested in where he came from.) I was able to answer one question in the negative and confirm the preponderance of Lentons in the Yaxley area, near Peterborough, going back to before 1840 and possibly into the 18th century. Am now working on a theory about how my paternal grandparents met. It hinges on my grandmother’s mother dying shortly after she was born, but this is far from certain. Very difficult to track down her parents in census returns , which suggests that something odd may have happened.

On the literary side, I’ve reworked a TV play I once wrote for a competition (unsuccessful) and entered it as a stage play for another competition. We’ve also done a bit of shopping, mainly for Amy’s birthday: she’s six on Wednesday. Dot and I scoured the toy shops (well, looked in a couple) for zhu zhus, which are toy hamsters with accessories. We bought a couple of accessories, only to find that she was getting one of them from someone else (my fault: David had said) and so I returned it today. Bought a few other things too. On the way back from the original trip, on Saturday, we called in at Dipples, which has been revamped, and spoke to both Rodney and his son Chris. We have earmarked a bracelet that Dot wants for her birthday. We also called in at the Cathedral Hostry, which is hosting a quite small exhibition on the EDP’s first 140 years, which end this year. Some speculation among the usual suspects as to why they are making such a fuss of the 140th, and we’ve concluded that there is a risk that it might not reach 150. However, I feel this is unduly pessimistic.

Just realised we’re going to be away every weekend in November, which sounds exciting. I have recently finished reading The Last Resort, by Douglas Rogers, which was recommended to me by Sandra, my cousin in Cape Town. It’s an account of the recent years in Zimbabwe – much of it quite chilling and tragic but with many humorous elements, as well as some heart-warming accounts of friendship between black and white Zimbabweans. Made the whole situation much clearer and revealed just why the country seems doomed. Many of the white Zimbabweans have been in Africa for generations. Loved the bit where someone representing a black choir rang up another black guy to ask what they should sing at the funeral of a white farmer’s wife. He said: “She’s an African. Sing what you always sing.”

Married at Mansfield

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dotsy and babs
Dot and Barbara exit the Maltsters Arms prepared to deliver P4C to 45 teachers

Did a bit more family tree research today, and discovered my grandparents on my father’s side were married at Mansfield towards the end of 1905. Not many people know that. Also discovered my great-grandfather was a cordwainer, as indeed was his father: I have come from a long line of shoemakers. Well, up to a point. My grandfather was a window-cleaner and a railway lampman, among many other things. My great-great grandfather had more children than I thought too. Yes, I’ve been on Genes Reunited.

Yesterday we visited our friend Phyllis Todd, in hospital, recovering from a sprained muscle in her back. She’s 100, which is a bit much if you ask me. Very lively, given that she has a sprained back.

On Monday drove over 300 miles, taking Dot and Barbara to Henley for a P4C event. They were speaking to 45 teachers from six schools and had to cram it into half an hour less than they thought. We had a delicious lunch at the Maltsters Arms pub in Rotherfield Grays and while the girls were talking I drove into Henley and strolled briefly by the river before returning to Harpsden (near the school) for a woodland walk. Also finished Kate Atkinson’s Behind the Scenes at the Museum, which is a brilliant novel. Have also recently read Zima Blue, by Alastair Reynolds – a collection of short stories with some exceptional ideas. He handles huge time and distance really well, though I’m not so keen on the alternative worlds ones, because I don’t believe that if something is 1000-1 against, it will happen at the 1000th opportunity. I think it’s still 1000-1 against. But I expect that’s just me.

Drove home afterwards by way of  Caddington and knocked on David’s door, but he was out swimming. Got home around 10pm after dropping Barbara at Scole, to be picked up by Andy. Weather has been dry and bright, but now it’s getting noticeably colder.

Top table

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Amanda, Joan, Angela, Vicki, Rodney, Rosie, Peter and Dot outside the White Lodge at Attleborough

Earlier today, when we were on our way to church, it was 10.10 on 10.10.10, and there were rumours of computer bugs going round. But nothing happened (as far as I know), and it turned out to be a lovely day: blanket blue sky and quite warm too. After church, where I preached on thankfulness and praise (I was thanked and praised afterwards), Dot and I went to the White Lodge at Attleborough for a birthday lunch for Joan (Beales). Quite a large company attended from as far afield as Tewkesbury, and we somehow got to sit on the top table with Peter and Joan and Rosie and Roger. Nice pub Sunday lunch (roast beef) and good company too. Spent quite a time at the end talking to Rodney, Angela and Vicki. Rodney asked me about switching to Apple, and I was enthusiastic. Being such a computer expert – or at least the father of one – obviously gives my words added weight.

Yesterday we were supposed to go out for a meal with friends, but the friends were ill, so we went to Prezzos, which was pleasant and pretty full, which is somehow reassuring. I had earlier done a walk of about three-miles-plus, around the Hall road area mainly, and ended up feeling a bit tired. Don’t think I’ve quite got rid of whatever it was I had a couple of weeks ago, but paracetamol works well. Have written a couple of poems over the last two days – one new one called Cold Comfort and one reworked one called Days of Innocence. I’ve entered the latter, with an earlier one called This is Not Home, in the Troubadour Poetry Competition.

Just call me McDowell

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Dot and Tim on Waxham beach (by Elvira)

Monday night turned out very well. Not only did I avoid hearing the Ryder Cup result and was able to watch the tightest of finishes without knowing that Europe won by a single point, but I won my chess game too. That match was also a tight affair: my team beat King’s Lynn 2½-1½, and I won the deciding game. Just call me McDowell. That meant we went through to the next round of the Williamson Cup, where we will almost certainly lose to hot favourites Norfolk and Norwich. Ho hum. It must all mean something.

I continued my winning ways by beating my nephew Joe 3-o at rapid chess on Wednesday, which is better than I usually do. Meanwhile I had been working on my course for church magazine editors, which after seeing Parish Pump editor Anne Coomes today I am still not sure will happen. She is very keen, but it is hard to pin down exactly what’s required. I picked her up from Belsey Bridge (formerly Ditchingham) conference centre just before noon and we had lunch at the White Horse in Trowse. Good fish and chips. We then spent the rest of the afternoon discussing the course, what would and what wouldn’t work, plus other more personal matters before I dropped her off at the airport just after 5pm for her trip back to Manchester and home.

Dot meanwhile had spent a sparkling sunny day at Diocesan House followed by a visit to a school at Carbrooke. She is now at the new-look Ambient Wonder event – First Thursdays – mainly in order to get a video from Matt. I was excused on the grounds of looking tired. And feeling tired actually: Anne had what she described as the end of a cold, and I am a bit nervous about being exposed, especially as I have to drive the P4C stars to Henley on Monday.

Before that I have to write and deliver a sermon. I am now officially a trustee of the Paston Heritage Society, having been voted in by Lucy and Jo. Lucy has to spend some days in Papworth with a chest infection, so I am suddenly 50% of active trustees. I ought to know more about it than I do. Today was National Poetry Day. That ought to rhyme, but it doesn’t. Typical.

Real work

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Another wedding picture: bride Charlotte and mother Anne.

The start of another week, and I’ve actually been doing some real work: editing a few articles for Howard, and improving some of my journalism training articles for use with church magazine editors – a project that may or may not happen, but Anne C is arriving this week to talk about it. The weather has been pretty miserable, although I was reminded by someone this week that it is people who are miserable and not the weather. All I can say is that the weather doesn’t look very happy.

This weekend was the Norfolk Chess Championship, which I refrained from entering because I didn’t think I had the stamina. Popped over to Horstead to see the last round and was delighted to find that my friend Chris Tuffin had won the Challengers. The championship itself was headed by two Norfolk and Norwich Club stalwarts, Mike Gough and Stephen Orton. Mike took it on tie-break. It was raining then, and has been raining quite a lot, though I have been out walking in between showers. Not today, though.

Had the Robinsons and Kibbles round for a meal on Friday night, and yesterday drove out to North Walsham on the spur of the moment to visit the cemetery and Jessie, who we found working in the garden, planting bulbs. Afterwards we drove home by a circuitous route that included Trunch, where Dot had seen a house she fancied. We tracked it down very close to where the Cares used to live. The huge garden of their house has been sold for housing. Looks quite attractive, but you can’t play football on it.

Church lunch yesterday, followed by watching the Ryder Cup, which was swamped with rain and is being finished off today. Am tryiing not to find out the score until I see the highlights, but I can see that going badly wrong, as I can’t see the highlights till I’ve played chess tonight against King’s Lynn. Cup match, at home, fortunately. Don’t feel much like driving to West Norfolk. Still feeling considerably less than 100 per cent but am trying to ignore it.

Changing the channel

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Dot with umbrella
Dot taking precautions in Yelverton churchyard, following the wedding of Charlotte and Chris last weekend

Here I am back in the study, and the computer is working fine. It did fail again, but this time I was able to access the wireless settings and change the channel successfully. I feel as if someone ought to change my channel, though I’m actually feeling a good bit better. Went to the hospital today to see a nurse (as you do), and after a chat we agreed I was probably OK really, at least as far as the urology department was concerned. Good to have a lengthy discussion with her.

Afterwards Dot and I went to Waitrose to buy some food for tomorrow and ran into Heather Vesey, who is a nice person to run into. Following that we visited my aunt Kathleen, who is back at her flat after having a broken hip fixed. She’s surprisingly sprightly, though of course there’s plenty of stuff she can’t do yet. Also today completed a writing task for Howard, which may be the first of several. Had a bit of a struggle getting to grips with the health service structure involved, but it came out all right in the end.

Meanwhile, Alan picked up the old computer, and Rupert called for his picture. Dot spent a couple of days at a South Norfolk school advising on the selection of a new head teacher. I played a good game of chess on Monday night against a fellow-club member but just failed to hold it together at the end. Oh yes, and I’ve booked a cottage at Aldeburgh for three nights over the weekend of the poetry festival. Hope the weather is better than is predicted for the coming weekend (and tomorrow), which is wet, very wet, windy and very windy. Joy. Still, it was very pleasant today: I think they call it a window.

Dodging the raindrops

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wedding
Charlotte and Chris with her parents plus bridesmaids Louise and Sophie, and Sophie's husband Richard

After the internet connection worked fine all weekend, with everything relocated to the kitchen table, I moved the computer back into the study this morning, and it immediately stopped working again. I am now in a secure unit – no, wait, I’m back in the kitchen again, and it’s working again. You may think this is a location problem, but I don’t think it is. I managed to reset the wireless channel, and I am more confident now that it will continue to work. No thanks to BT, though, who made me do the pointless resetting in the first place. As a safety precaution I am staying in the kitchen for a while.

The accountant duly came on Friday morning, and immediately after he left we went for lunch with the Higbees at Newton Flotman. Stopped to buy flowers on the way, which was clearly the wrong thing to do because it triggered a huge downpour, which continued all the way to Newton Flotman and into the afternoon. Very nice lunch and subsequent conversation, although I was feeling well below par, as I have been all weekend. I suspect some kind of food poisoning dating back into midweek, but I don’t know where it came from. Occasional diarrhoea, aches and pains in peculiar places, slight headache and so on. All the things you like to read about. But it didn’t prevent us fulfilling our multiplicity of engagements over a very, very wet weekend.

The most prominent of these engagements was Charlotte Robinson’s wedding to Chris Wickham on Saturday. It was the least wet of three wet days, in that there were occasional dry periods, which enabled the photographer to function outside for a while. Quite chilly, though. The wedding service was at Yelverton Church – very familiar ground, yards from our home for 12 years in Church Road. Nice to be back: we met the mother of the bride with the bridesmaids at the gate, all looking stunning. Uplifting service, and a pleasant reception afterwards at King’s Church in Norwich, where the food and everything was provided to an extremely professional level by church members. Lovely meal, and I was able to hear all the speeches before I had to make a rapid exit as one aspect of my below-parness asserted itself. Pity, I would have liked to chat with people, but they you are. What can you do? I’d recovered enough to meet Dot as she walked home about an hour later.

Felt pretty rough and had a less than perfect night, but was well enough to go to church on Sunday morning, which on this occasion was followed by a meal at Vicky and Jared’s. I was a bit worried about this for obvious reasons, but in fact my condition gradually improved and I was able to enjoy more splendid food, including a quince crumble, which you don’t come across every day of the week. Plus some really good conversation with our hosts and with Howard and Anna, David and Bridget and Helen and Rob, who brought delightful little Florence (2). Amy (3) showed prowess at jigsaws and elsewhere and took a motherly interest in Florence.

Got home (after transporting Howard and Anna) just after 5pm and surprisingly felt well enough to drive to Lowestoft with Dot to read some poetry as part of a New Words, Fresh Voices evening hosted by Ian Fosten, an old friend who used to be a governor at Tuckswood School when Dot was deputy there, and later lived on Lindisfarne as the URC minister. He is now remarried and owns the Seagull Theatre. Lovely setting in a very basic way and an unusual evening, opened by a three-strong band of youngsters who could go far. Called Hilltop Mile: remember, you read it here first. Chatted to one of them – a very likeable lad. The rest of the performers were much older: the poets were mainly women of a certain age, plus me and another man of similar age. The cast was completed by an acoustic guitarist who was good in a very straightforward sort of way. To be honest, some of the poetry wasn’t very good, but it all had redeeming features. I read two poems in the first half and three in the second. They seemed to go down well, but everybody was being nice to each other. The audience was about 20-25, many of them quite young.

We got home about 10.40pm, and it was still raining. Today is different only in that the rain is closer to a drizzle. The sky is still grey, and the lights are on. Margaret Malt has just called for one of her pictures, which I brought from Oxburgh Hall for her, and I am expecting Alan Higbee later, to pick up my old computer. I think I’ll have some lunch.