Fraught couple of days after a good start to the week, when I won a pleasing game of chess against Greg to make it quite a reasonable beginning to the season. On Tuesday morning, however, my computer’s internet connection reduced to a crawl, making it impossible to use. This made me surprisingly depressed – partly because I was already very tired after the hectic weekend – and I found it difficult to handle. When I contacted BT, the woman I spoke to (after half an hour’s wait) said there was a nationwide network problem, which there patently wasn’t, and proceeded to try out various things like resetting the router, none of which was the slightest use.
I was then told to wait for 24 hours (why?) so I left it till this morning, then had a similarly fruitless conversation with another woman – or possibly the same one – trying to persuade her to put me on to someone who knew about Macs. After a long time, this happened, but although he made more sense, we didn’t really make any progress. In the end he left me with instructions on how to change the wireless channel after I found the ethernet connection. After much searching I did find the cable, but connecting it didn’t seem to make much difference, and when I tried to change the wireless channel, I kept getting shunted back to the page I’d just come from, and the Wireless option never appeared. Despairing, I moved the computer and the hub as near as I could get them to the phone in preparation for ringing BT again. When I set up, I found that I had a connection, and now (10.50pm on Thursday), I still have it. I am still nervous, however, because I don’t know why I have it. A totally frustrating experience that has left me exhausted.
Warm weather for the first three days of the week has now turned to something truly autumnal: damp and much cooler, just in time for us to have our hair cut, which happened today. Tomorrow the accountant comes and we’re out for lunch afterwards. Saturday is Charlotte’s wedding. Hope it’s a bit more summery then – and that my computer connection continues to work.
The leaders in the Tour of Britain sweep into Riverside Road
Feeling rather battered. No, Dot hasn’t taken to beating me up: I’ve just spent three days doing largely physical work, which is pretty unusual, and my body is feeling the effects. It’s 5pm, and I already feel ready for bed. Not that I shall go to bed, of course. That would be ridiculous. Anyway, the physical work is over for a while.
It started on Thursday, when I was called on to go to Oxburgh Hall, to help take the Paston exhibition down. Lucy was so ill that she had to go to bed, and Jo Berry was concerned that she and her husband would have to do it all on their own. I, meanwhile, had been intending to help Dot set up St Luke’s for the visit of John Bell, from Iona, who was coming down for a two-day event. I also wanted to see the Tour of Britain sweep through Norwich, so it seemed impossible to fit everything in, as the artists who might have helped at Oxburgh (Annette, Mike, Martin) were down in Brighton for an exhibition there. In the end, Dot said she could manage without me in the morning, and I drove to Oxburgh (about an hour away), arriving about 10.30am. I took all the pictures down and cleared the screens before anyone else arrived, and we managed to get everything done by noon, when Teri arrived with help to take away her heavy stained glass piece.
After a cup of tea I made the journey home, arriving just after 1pm, in time for a quick lunch before walking with Dot down to Riverside Road to take up position for the ToB cyclists to arrive. We were there for about half an hour with nothing much happening, but then a squadron of motor cycles swept through, clearing vehicles out of the way ruthlessly, and the first two cyclists arrived rather suddenly. I just had time to snatch a picture before they were away. It was another five minutes before the peloton came through and I got some more pictures. They were followed by all the team cars, having a great time screeching around the Foundry Bridge corner.Then they were gone, and things returned to normal. Amazing organisation really. There was a King of the Mountains section on Mousehold, which must have been more King of the Molehill, I should imagine. The two leaders seemed far out of reach of the others, but by the time they reached Yarmouth they had been caught, and the stage was won by a sprinter.
In the afternoon, Dot and I returned to St Luke’s to finish setting up, then went to Morrisons to get extra provisions. The next day these proved woefully insufficient, and I went first to Lidls and then to Spar to supplement what we had. Even that was not enough: more milk was obtained by Anna later in the day: we used about 35 pints of milk each day for the 140 people attending the event. And that was just in tea and coffee. No food was supplied.
Anyway, back to Thursday evening. Dot and I got to the cathedral early to distribute leaflets, which proved quite wearing on the back, as there were about 450 chairs to cover, and four leaflets per chair. The session led by John Bell (Different Voices, Same Song – exploring the nature of harmony in community, using music as a metaphor) was brilliant. Despite bring very tired, I was completely captivated and surprised how soon it ended: it was in fact about 90 minutes.
He was also superb in a different way at St Luke’s. Very easy to listen to: he has a relaxed style and a Scottish accent, with a great sense of humour. He spoke mainly using stories, which as one or two people remarked was rather like the parabolic method of Jesus. Quite radical, but compelling in what he said because his aim was not to provide convincing arguments, but to express a point of view which we might be interested in. As a result, we were. His sane comments about caring for the earth, equality for everyone, generosity and concern for exploitation of people in other parts of the world were mixed with amusing stories about the nature of Christianity and the need to avoid confrontation over issues of theology and who is right. A very likeable man, without any pretensions, and also a gifted musician who could get everyone singing using only his voice (and an occasional burst on piano). On a very superficial level reminded me a bit of Denis Lawson in Local Hero.
Being helpers proved quite demanding, but we managed to hear a lot of what he said, and he was the sort of man you wished everyone could hear. Dot and I had to pay another visit to Morrisons for provisions on the Friday evening, and we followed this by having a meal at Prezzo’s, since that involved little effort. The clearing up on the Saturday was particularly tiring, as many of the helpers had to leave early and there was a lot of furniture moving to accomplish. Did I mention Dot was in charge of all this? She got a public thank-you and two bottles of rather pleasant red wine, one of which we sampled today.
Birthday boy Oliver, 8
Of course the previous Saturday was even more significant, as it was Oliver’s eighth birthday. What a star! Dot and I drove down in the morning and met David, Oliver and Amy at the Harvester on the A5 – a favourite eating place of the children. They didn’t know we were coming and were pleased to see our car in the car park. Nice moment. Pleasant meal, and then back to the house for the afternoon, until Vicky arrived to pick them up about 5pm. We stayed for a few hours for tea with David , and then drove home. It was good to see Oliver on his birthday. He got an iPod Touch from his Dad and a variety of things from us. He is growing up fast, as children do.
A couple of other things last week: I performed badly in our pre-season chess tournament, scoring only 2/6 in a rapid-play event, and then visited Kathleen on Tuesday at Dereham Hospital, where she was sent for rehabilitation. She is doing very well. I managed to get in touch with her stepdaughter after failing at first on the number she’d given me. I used the mobile number Paul obtained from Kathleen later in the week. I now have her e-mail address. Hope I’ve got that right.
Among the people at the John Bell event were Claire, nee Osborne, daughter of Andy and niece of Lily from Surrey Chapel days; Di Barrell and her husband, parents of former EDP trainee Nicky and friends of Marion WIlliams; and Bridget Fosten, second wife of Ian Fosten, who we knew as governor of Tuckswood and from visiting him in Lindisfarne many, many years ago.
Loose ends: I did visit Kathleen, and she proved surprisingly perky, chatting for well over an hour. I did deliver part of a poetry and art workshop at Oxburgh Hall on a lovely sunny day, and it went very well – the only problem being that I could not see the screen of Dot’s laptop in the marquee. It was too bright. After some while I gave up and took the laptop into the armoury, where I completed typing the workshoppers’ poems before returning to the marquee to print them out. Dot arrived late morning and joined in, and we had five others, including Paston artist Kit Price-Moss. All produced good poems, plus some lively artwork with the assistance of Annette. All middle-aged women, interestingly. The day before I had helped to set up the Paston exhibition, again in very nice weather.
After Communion on Sunday we had lunch at home and then set off for Scarborough by the direct route. Quite a straightforward journey, except that we were stopped by the police on the A17 as part of a random sample for a little lecture on road safety. This centred, needless to say, on speed, and might have been suitable for a class of teenagers thinking about driving. The lecture was given by a female member of the local safety partnership, and I would have loved to give her a few arguments, but I didn’t want to delay our journey in order to do so, so I satisfied myself by suggesting the “Fatal Four” were lion, elephant, rhinoceros and hippo when she was angling for speed (hah!), seat belts, drink and mobile phones. It did inspire me to write a piece on the dangers of driving slowly, which will soon appear on my website.
We arrived safely at Scarborough around the estimated time – 6pm – and enjoyed an evening meal with Dave and Julia. We then spent three days with them without going anywhere near Scarborough town or beach. The weather was good on the Monday, so we drove to Goathland, home of the TV series Heartbeat, where we parked and walked to Grosmont, just under four miles away along the line of an old railway track. Mostly downhill, with a brisk wind behind, and very pleasant. Had a snack in Grosmont and then caught a North Moors Railway train back. In the evening we went to the Stephen Joseph theatre and saw a remarkable Alan Ayckbourn play based, surprisingly, on a time travel device. It worked very well, although Julia really didn’t like it at half-time. Most enjoyable and very clever, I thought. Communicating Doors starred Liza Goddard and Laura Doddington.
Helmsley Castle
Next day was supposed to be rainy, so we headed for Nunnington Hall. In fact it didn’t rain at all and was less windy and therefore even nicer than the day before. Nevertheless we enjoyed the hall and a brief trip into Helmsley afterwards. In the evening we had a very good meal at Tuscany Too, a restaurant half a mile down the road from the Evetts’ apartment. So good in fact that the richness of the food meant I had trouble sleeping that night.
Cliffs near Flamborough Head
On Wednesday we travelled in two cars down to Flamborough Head, so that we could continue on to Norwich afterwards. An impressive spot with a smattering of twitchers, but we walked along the cliffs, which were dramatic: could have stayed much longer. As it was we climbed the lighthouse, then had lunch (fish and chips for Dot and me) and set off for home about 3pm, following Dave and Julia until they turned off for Hornsea and Tracy Savage. We continued into Hull (probably a mistake) but emerged unscathed ono to the A63 and headed for the A1, where we stopped for refreshments at Blyth (nice one) before heading for Peterborough and home along the A47. No real traffic problems, and we got home just before 8pm. This was a longer route, but more relaxing to drive. The A17 and A15 are all right if you don’t mind travelling in a 45mph convoy all the time.
Yesterday I went to the dentist to check that his treatment of my sensitive teeth had worked – and it had, so that didn’t take long. Bought some presents for Oliver and an iPod for his Dad to give him, then ran into Martin Laurance. Dot was taking a head out to lunch, so I spent the rest of the day writing Oliver’s latest Little story – Little and the steps too far. Today I finished it off (with pictures) and am now catching up with various other things, like paying bills, writing e-mails and choosing hymns.
I forgot to mention that last Thursday we went for a meal with Ruth and Steve. Finding their home in Hethersett was a bit of a challenge, despite stopping and phoning them from the end of their drive. Ruth’s directions persuaded me that it wasn’t their house, but eventually Steve came out and guided us in. Very pleasant evening.
Three in a bed, and the little one hid up. Dot and grandchildren in the West Runton caravan.
As waste disposal lorries queue up in the street outside, the Oxburgh Hall exhibition approaches rapidly. Rupert Mallin has just appeared with his print, which I will transport to the Hall tomorrow, together with Martin Laurance’s pictures, which he delivered last night. Rupert is happy with his new teaching schedule at City College, but most full-time employees have to reapply for their jobs. This has always seemed an iniquitous device. If your job is no longer there, you are redundant and entitled to compensation; if your job is there, then there should be no legal way to remove you from it unless you’re dishonest or incompetent. Changing the job description slightly is in reality ending one job (redundancy) and introducing a new one.
Happily I am unlikely ever again to be in such a position, though I suppose Dot could change my job description. Would I have to reapply? The suspense is killing me. Have just heard my aunt Kathleen is in hospital with a broken hip after a fall, so will probably pay her a visit this afternoon. That will teach her.
Yesterday was a lovely warm day. Dot went merrily and with memory lapse to Swaffham with her P4C hat on, leaving her colleague waiting for her at the Park and Ride in Norwich. Numerous phone calls later (neither Barbara nor I knew which school they were going to, and Dot had her mobile phone off) the pair were reunited just in time. I have been preparing my poetry workshop for Oxburgh, but in the afternoon delivered a chess game to Mike Read (my rather exciting loss on Monday to Jon Burrows), walking to Knowsley Road by way of Mousehold Heath. Met up successfully with Dot at Phil and Joy’s to deliver Joy’s birthday present and have a long discussion on miracles. At least, that’s what happened.
On Sunday I led the service and preached, with Dot doing the prayers. Everyone else who does that kind of thing was away, either at Greenbelt or elsewhere, so there wasn’t much choice. Afterwards Vicky M said she had been completely healed of a back problem after we’d prayed for her on the Tuesday last week. This Tuesday we had a large gathering for the meal (no connection between last two statements) when we’d been expecting very few. Dot’s friend Carrie came, which was nice. Had a good discussion about prayer, miracles and what we should or could be doing.
Went to see June W earlier in the day. Her problems are still proving recalcitrant, but she was cheerful, and we had a good time with her. Her house and garden are so beautifully organised, sand she’s brave enough to use bright colours on wall and furniture. Her son William is a brilliant artist in leather – produces wonderful things.
Somewhere in the middle of all that (Saturday, actually) we had our hair cut. Thought I’d better mention that.
Granddaughter Amy being attacked by a bear but retaining her appetite
One of those weeks where you seem to have plenty of time to do stuff, and so you fritter most of it away. Weather has not been brilliant – wet and dull all day yesterday – but at the moment the rain has relented, which pleases Dot, as she’s scheduled to have lunch in the city with Anne a bit later. It’s a bit autumnal: cooler without being anywhere near cold. I’ve had my second ear-syringe (note the hyphen) which seems to have cleared all the wax, though the ears (and head) are still strangely crackly. On the plus side, I can hear better. The sound of the rain on the car roof as I returned from my appointment with Martine (we name the guilty nurse) was strangely loud. I’ve also had my teeth cleaned by a hygienist, who is so highly skilled that it doesn’t really hurt at all. So I should be in good shape.
I’ve managed to write a Paston poem, linking the last Margaret with the first of the family who arrived at Paston from France. Think it just about works. Need to speak to Annette in more detail about the workshop. The church magazine editors’ training plans have been laid aside temporarily, because one of the key guys is too busy and Anne’s dog is not well. Not sure if it will ever happen. However, I have written most of my sermon for Sunday. Most of the church will be either at Greenbelt or some other holiday venue, so I am prepared for a very small congregation.
Played my first chess game of the new season on Monday, after negotiating quite deep flooding on the road approaching the club. Hesitated to go through at first, but saw a bus a negotiate it, so followed. When I reached the club several other people were there, so I felt a bit of a wimp. However, recovered enough to draw a tight game against Jon Burrows, who’s graded about 30 points higher than me. As it was a knockout competition game, I have to play him again – probably on Monday.
Another Monday. Where did the week go? Seven days ago I was rather dreading a visit to the dentist, but it turned out well: sensitivity proved less serious than I thought. Still, I have to see the hygienist this week…
On Tuesday things turned exciting. I was informed by my son on Monday evening that Oliver was expecting us at about 10am the following morning; after an initial hollow laugh we decided to see what we could do and ended up leaving the house at 8.15am. Despite heavy traffic, and to everyone’s astonishment, we got to Caddington just after 10.15am, and an hour or so later we were Norwich-bound with grandchildren loaded. We stopped at Cambridge Services for lunch, just in time to stop Amy dying of hunger, and got home mid-afternoon.
We were fortunate to get the loan of Fred and Sue’s caravan at Beeston Regis (West Runton) for a night (or more, if we’d wanted to), and so we left fairly early the next morning, arriving at about 11.30 and in good time for the Red Arrows display at Cromer Carnival. Happily we didn’t have to leave the site: there was a great view from the cliffs, and I took many pictures, of which a surprising proportion turned out quite well. The sky was completely clear while this went on, but as soon as the Hawks disappeared into the distance, clouds started to come over. Still it remained dry and reasonably warm, but as the tide was right in we decided to go and visit Aunt Jessie. This was followed by a visit to Sainsburys for food and a few small items of clothing for the children, and on our return we went down the new steps to the beach: extremely steep, but a great improvement on having to walk all the way to West Runton to gain access to the sand. The tide was still quite a way in, but there were some pools round the groynes on which we sailed a couple of boats and looked unsuccessfully for crabs. Both children were quite successful at getting pretty wet.
"Ginormous" crab in the net
On Thursday we got down to the beach by 9.30 to catch the low tide. It was already coming in, but had a long way to travel, so we were able to do a bit of crabbing in the rock pools. We managed to catch three smallish ones, and then Amy spotted one that was officially described as “ginormous”, and we managed to get it into our net. We were all a bit nervous about it until a boy wandered past, had a look and nonchalantly picked it up. I guess you either have it or you don’t. Eventually all crabs were returned to the wild, and as the tide came in, there was some sandcastling, game-playing and even clay-pot-making – Oliver being inspired by some pots Sue had made and left in the caravan.
After lunch we packed up and drove home by way of the Wizard Maze at Metton. We hadn’t been sure whether to stop or not, but it was a huge success. First we tried to find a number of letter clues in the maze, splitting up on gender lines. Oliver and I found all but two or three, slightly more than the girls, who left the maze early for Amy to play on the varied items in the play area: bouncy pillow, swings, pedal-karts, bales of hay etc. When Oliver and I joined them Dot managed to work out the magic words from the letters we had, and so we won the prize of an activity book and pencil for each of the children. When Oliver got the play area he joined in enthusiastically, and was particularly good on the quad bike. Amy typically made a friend, named Emily, and she had a brother named Barney who was a year older than Oliver. All four had fun on the hay bales before we left quite late for home. Very warm. We were lucky with the weather: we only had the caravan because Fred’s daughter decided not to use it because of the unsettled forecast.
Much quieter day on Friday, which was very warm indeed, making bus drivers very tetchy. Nevertheless we took a bus into the city, where the Norwich City shop was obligingly shut for a refit. I managed to get Oliver a scarf somewhere else in the Mall, and followed up this coup by buying him a casual jacket which he picked out. Meanwhile Dot was buying hair slides for Amy. We walked round a bit in search of the open-top bus tour, but failed to find it. However, we did buy hats for the children from the market, as I was worried about the sun on their heads, and then got a bus home. Not content with this, we then drove to see Auntie Ethel, who gave Oliver a radio and Amy a necklace. After this we went to Prezzo’s for supper; the children were understandably very tired by the end of the day, and we got them into bed quite early, though not before an extremely elaborate car-and-brick construction spread across the floor in the kitchen. David arrived around 10pm, just after we finished watching the cricket.
Oliver prepared to support those Yellows
On Saturday David and I took Oliver to see Norwich City beat Swansea 2-0 in a game they had looked like losing. Ruddy saved a penalty and we then got an own goal, followed up at the death by a brilliant volley from new player Simeon Jackson, who’s Canadian. Meanwhile Dot took Amy to buy flowers and then drop in on a party for Phyllis Todd, who was 100 yesterday. We had originally thought the party was taking place on the Sunday and had kept it clear, but the best laid plans… David and the children departed about 7pm, and we flopped out on the sofa.
Communion service at church yesterday was followed by very little activity from us. We ended up watching four episodes of Battlestar Galactica back-to-back; in our defence the second, third and fourth were actually one story. It really is very good. I’ve finished Avilion, which turned out very well, though you wanted it to continue. Heavy rain and high winds were forecast overnight, but I slept through most of it, and the weather had improved a lot by the time Dot left at 9am to present her Philosophy 4Children to a summer school in Suffolk.
Fred, Dot and Sue on the path between Blakeney and Morston
And so it goes on. The ear syringe turned out to be inconclusive, and I have another appointment in two weeks’ time. Meanwhile, my hearing is not as good as it was before. Something going on in there, obviously. And the weather is pretty up and down too. We put the heating on because we were cold, and the system took revenge by getting hotter and hotter and ignoring all my efforts to turn it off. In the end I turned it completely off at the power switch in the garage, expecting to have to call British Gas on Saturday morning. But no, when I turned it on again, it behaved perfectly normally. And when I went out for a walk the weather was quite warm too. Some rain, admittedly, but I avoided it.
We were lucky, too, with our visit to West Runton on Thursday to see Fred (my best man) and Sue at their caravan. Quite a pleasant afternoon: we had a surprisingly good lunch at Wiveton Fruit Fram followed by tea and scones at the Blakeney Hotel before walking to Morston. From there we caught the Coasthopper bus. Dot and Sue stayed on it right back to West Runton, while Fred and I alighted at Blakeney to pick up the car, cheekily parked at the Manor Hotel, our regular reunion venue. New steps down the cliff at WR, so we popped down to look in the rock pools, revealed by a very low tide.
Friday saw more travelling, this time to Beccles for an evening private view of prints, mainly by Annette and her students. Annette’s mother and sister were there, but we just missed Lucy. Very odd weather. It was cool before we left, so we put on some autumnal clothes. But the gallery was warm verging on very warm, so by the time we left we were boiling. And when we reached Norwich it was pouring with rain, so we were cold, warm, hot and wet in the space of two or three hours. Then very hot when the heating refused to turn itself off…
Saturday was again mixed, but I managed to get out for a three-mile walk in the afternoon. Then out of the blue we went to Godfreys and bought two sorts of hedge cutters and a saw – and not only that but actually cut a few branches off our overgrown hedge. And more today! However, today’s surprise purchase was a windbreak, which we bought at Waxham after seeing what it was like on the beach. This was a joint day out for the two churches or, as it turned out, a very few people from the two churches. It wasn’t cold, but you had to get out of the wind, which was blowing sand everywhere, specifically into the picnic. Dot and I took both our cars so we could give lifts to Phyllis, Elvira, Pepukai, Richard and Allanah, which is a good cross-section not only in age but also culturally, taking in Africa and South America. Quite a good time, but no-one stayed very long after lunch.
I’m getting through Avilion, which is both excellent and mysterious, as Robert Holdstock always is. And we have at last started watching Series 2 of Battlestar Galactica, which is brilliant. Eight episodes down.
Busy, busy. That may be why I feel heavy and listless. Have just been to Carrow Road with Dot to book tickets for the Swansea match for David, Oliver and myself. Only a mile and a-half there and back, and I feel exhausted. Am having my ears syringed shortly, but somehow I suspect that may not have any effect on the exhaustion. Haven’t been sleeping too well and have been having rather unsettling dreams, which is very unusual for me. Weather is still fairly warm, but not without some cloud and rain.
My eye test on Thursday went well: seeing is not a problem, and no new glasses necessary. No explanation as to why I have this burning sensation in my eyes in the evenings sometimes. Jennie arrived on Thursday afternoon: first time we’ve seen her for a while. Her arrival was somewhat marred by an event in the city shortly before her arrival: Dot was stung by a wasp. She was a bit worried at first because of Roger’s anaphylactic near-death experience, but was reassured by a pharmacist. However, the sting did become infected and turned quite unpleasant: swollen arm, very hot, very itchy. Had a bad night and went to see a nurse practitioner on Friday morning, just after I left for Coventry with Phil to take Andrew out on his birthday. Periodic phone calls revealed that she was not at all a happy bunny, and so it was fortunate that Jennie was there to keep an eye on her. The area of infection spread up her arm, and in the evening she called the emergency number, only to be reassured that the penicillin would not have kicked in yet. So a second sleepless night followed, and it was not until Saturday that the infection stopped spreading. It has still not quite subsided, and she is still taking the pills.
Meanwhile, Phil and I had a difficult drive to Coventry, having to take a diversion to avoid a huge hold-up on the A14 between Cambridge and Huntingdon – my least favourite stretch of road in the country and yet another example of short-sighted planning by the highway authorities. It’s the place where all the traffic going from the east to the Midlands and from London to the North-East has to share a two-lane dual carriageway. Who would have guessed that wasn’t enough road space? Not the highway planners, of course.
Andrew, however, was very well, and we took him for an excellent meal to Friday’s before driving to Corley Rocks, which we reached successfully despite Andrew’s directions or, in one case, because of them. One of Andrew’s favourite spots, it’s a bit tired but has potential. Unfortunately its potential is unlikely to be realised. The journey home was much easier.
On Saturday Dot and I took Jennie for a drive round north Norfolk. Jennie had a bad foot and Dot was still feeling groggy and very uncomfortable, so the ride was about the only option. We started by having a look at Paston Church, then lunched at the Ship in Mundesley (excellent again, with the waitress taking an interest in Dot’s arm and providing a welcome bag of ice. I had fish and chips again, and the other two had an imaginative starter followed by something sweet. We went on to Blakeney, where we decided we were not hungry or thirsty enough to take in any more and headed for home, just as it started to rain hard. Went via Holt and across country to Aylsham. Interesting. On Sunday we all went to church and tried out Nicholas’s new liturgy. Jennie returned home in the afternoon.
Annette at Oxburgh Hall
Monday was a beautiful warm and sunny day, and I drove to Oxburgh Hall to reconnoitre for the art/poetry Paston workshop in early September. I met Annette there, and we spoke to the NT’s top woman on site, who was very helpful. Annette and I had lunch in the cafe, which was a cut above, then looked at the nearby church. All fascinating stuff, and useful insofar as we now have a clearer idea of what we’re doing. Not clear, but clearer. Quite a pleasant journey there and back on the Watton road.
Tuesday started rainy for the visit of Pat and Barry Clayton and a couple of their friends. Pat was a college friend of Dot’s, and it was a very long time since we’d seen her. After an expansive cold lunch the rain had stopped (as forecast) and we all walked round the riverside path to the Playhouse, and then back down Elm Hill and through the Cathedral. A pleasant enough stroll, but again I felt very tired at the end. They left at about 6pm to return to their holiday address in the Harleston area, and Dot and I went to Vicky’s for Tuesday group. Tried to pick up Harriet, but she was in considerable pain in her legs, and Dot stayed with her while she rang the doctor. Also called in on the way back: the doctor hadn’t yet arrived, but she was resting and feeling a bit better.
Have finished reading a book by someone who visited the highest points of all the counties in the UK. Not nearly as good as it might have been, unfortunately. Now I’m on to Robert Holdstock’s Avilion, sequel to the wonderful Mythago Wood. Now he is a good writer. Even David Gemmell says so (on the cover).
Old family picture shown to Sam, featuring (left to right) myself, Sam's father, Andrew and our cousin Adrian. Taken at Dovercourt, I believe.
Annoying day yesterday. It looked very much as if it was going to rain, so I kept putting off going for my usual walk. Then it didn’t rain, but it kept looking as if it were going to. The people of Norwich should thank me for not going for a walk, because if I had, it would certainly have rained. Annoying element of day part two: my printer went missing. Not literally. It’s still upstairs, attached to my wife’s computer, but now my computer can’t find it. It’s looking for it, it keeps assuring me. It just can’t find it. It has the right name, and when I don’t want to use it, it tells me it’s ready, but when I try and print something, it just looks for the printer. So everything I want printed has to be e-mailed to Dot first, which is tiresome. Checked on Google for solutions, but they were either incomprehensible or didn’t work. One was so silly even I knew it wouldn’t work, and it didn’t.
Still, by way of compensation, I did get a few things done. Nicholas came round in the morning to talk to Dot about organisation of the John Bell visit while I had a look at the draft of his book (in which I figure among the thanks). After that we discussed changing the liturgy as the first stage in a consultative process which may or may not turn out to be interesting. Later, in the evening, nephew Sam came round and we had a catch-up chat. Also showed him some photos of Wales and some old family pictures, which I’m sure he found rather more compelling. Lucy had been out all day with her mother at Norjam, which is not a new local preserve for spreading on toast but a gathering of Guides, and she didn’t get back in time, so I took Sam home around 11pm.
Oh, and I updated my website, partially rejigging it at the same time.
On Monday we went to Hempnall for lunch at Sue and Roger’s. Lovely house and lovely meal. Made the mistake of rearranging carpet cleaning man for 4pm and had to leave earlier than we would have done. Got back just in time, largely because there were no vehicles on the road between Hempnall and Stoke Holy Cross – a rare phenomenon – and I was able to eat up the miles in the MX5. Nice to drive that for a change.
Tuesday started with a trip to the surgery to get my blood tested. Waiting room packed, which meant of course that when the first name was called, no-one responded. Why does this always happen? Got in 20 minutes late and blood was removed. Now the wait to see if it’s behaving itself. As I had predicted, I was a bit late returning to get my hair cut by Linda, but no-one seemed to mind. In the evening the Tuesday Group was down to five, and knowing that our resident vegetarian was going to be absent, I cooked chili con carne, which I have to say tasted pretty good.
Today is bright, and I shall be going out shortly to see if I can get my eyes tested (get it?). Dot has already been to Park Farm, and she is following this up by shopping at Morrisons in preparation for our friend Jennie’s arrival this afternoon. She will complete the morning with a visit to the dentist, which sounds like fun. I have just rung the hospital in Coventry to confirm that Andrew is Ok to go out for a meal tomorrow, and it seems he is doing well.
Queen Amy processes down the castle steps during our holiday in Llanberis.
The time is just flashing by. Probably something to do with my being 65. It looked as if it was going to be a quiet week, but something happened every day, which I guess is better than the alternative. Tuesday was our 42nd wedding anniversary, and we celebrated with lunch at Caffee Uno (during which it poured with rain outside) and champagne at Tuesday Group. On Wednesday, Dot and I met Jessie at Jarrold’s, had a meal with her and then brought her home to look at our Welsh pictures on Apple TV. To make up for it, we took her home afterwards. On Thursday I went to the hospital while Dot was at Ethel’s. I received a certain amount of reassurance concerning rehabilitation from my operations; I had been feeling a bit down about it. Actually my health is quite good, and I walked halfway home afterwards. It was a bit muggy, so I took a bus the rest of the way: in fact the mugginess has been a constant over the last few days.
On Friday I drove over to Paston while Dot carried through the second stage of a mammoth house-cleaning project, and met with Lucy and Annette to discuss taking the Paston project to Oxburgh Hall. Annette and I will be offering a workshop, if we can work out how to organise it. Every sign that the Paston thing will extend some way into the future, and that there will be more poems and artwork to come from it. Maybe a second book, though it will different from the first – no more copies of which can be printed because several of the plates have unbelievably collapsed or gone missing. I have to write the words for a flyer and a press release, and later this month will be going to Oxburgh Hall with Annette to reconnoitre. After the discussion Annette and I were treated by Lucy to lunch at the Ship in Mundesley: we all went for the fish and chips, and were not disappointed. Good service: according to Lucy, they only employ graduates. That must be illegal, because it works so well.
In the evening we were given a lift by Vicky and Jared to Roger’s birthday do in Thorpe. As none of us knew anyone else there (except Roger’s son Philip) we spent most of the evening talking to each other and had a good time. Met Roger’s new girlfriend, who seemed extremely nice. We had a little too much to drink, but survived without medical help. Ho, ho.
David came up on Saturday to accompany us to the friendly match between Norwich City and Everton, which ended 2-4. Quite encouraged by the performance of the new Canaries, especially Andrew Crofts. Norwich gave away a couple of soft goals, but weren’t hopelessly outclassed. It was 2-2 for a while. Well, about a minute, I think. Although it was raining when David arrived shortly before 2pm I successfully predicted no more rain after about 2.15pm, after consulting three different forecasts. So we bravely managed without umbrellas. Still very warm, as it is today. Afterwards I showed David our Welsh photos, and then we watched the European Athletics championships, at which we did quite well. Appropriately, a Welsh one-two in the 400m hurdles. England also doing quite well against Pakistan in the test match. David stayed overnight, and left about 10 this morning.
Today Ruth was taking the service for the first time, and I gave Steve a hand with the music. We had originally intended to be in London with the Coomes’, but Maurice has been very ill, and David and Kristine are up in Yorkshire. Ruth and Steve did really well, and I’m trying to persuade Ruth to do it on a regular basis (and Steve to join the music group). Good sermon by Margaret.
Have done a bit of work in the garden, but not as much as Dot, obviously. I’ve cut back some roses from above the potatoes, and we’ve tidied up at the front too. Our brown bin runneth over.
