Had intended to spend some time in London over the weekend, but received a phone call on Friday to say David C was ill, so we had some time at home instead. This was disappointing, but it did give us some extra time to play with – particularly useful as Dot was doing an inspection at Swaffham all day Friday, and we had been intending to travel down to Leyton directly afterwards, returning late on Saturday because I had to preach a sermon yesterday morning. Not the most relaxed of schedules. Instead I managed to start clearing out my filing cabinet, and this took longer than I had thought, mainly because of the amount of paper that needed to be shredded. My minuscule shredder was unable to deal with it, and I spent about as much time digging compacted paper out of that as I did on the filing cabinet itself, eventually ending up with a sackload of shredded paper late on Sunday afternoon. I also have a shredder that needs dismantling. And that’s just the first of four drawers – six if I decide to tackle the small cabinet as well. At least the other drawers don’t contain much paper that will need shredding.

Really good morning service – even the sermon wasn’t too bad – and the Ambient Wonder event in the evening was nothing if not ambitious, consisting largely of an enormous white womb space that people sat in. Theme: you guessed it – the Annunciation and pregnancy of Mary. Some quite inventive stuff. My Mary monologue was dusted off, and Dot played an angel. More type-casting.

Other than Christmas-card writing (mainly me) and present-wrapping (mainly Dot) we also managed to fit in a Thursday evening meal with two couples from church: the Kerrisons and the Roberts. There was a vegetarian among us, so Dot did a nut loaf which was the best veggie meal I’ve ever tasted.  Great evening altogether.

That week went by pretty quickly. Perhaps because the weather was so awful much of the time. Very, very wet: not in a Cockermouth way, but persistently precipitating enough to really irritate. To be fair, there were some bright spells in between. Yesterday I went to the funeral of David Wright, a co-member of a Christian Writers’ group I used to belong to. Absolutely packed church, with a couple of dozen standing, and afterwards stunning afternoon sun over Mulbarton common. Lots of hymns – he was something of a hymns fanatic, though a bit of a polymath really. He and his wife wrote the Philip’s Children’s Atlas, which has sold millions. I quite enjoy funerals: there’s something uplifting about them. OK, I am weird.

The wheels are back on Dot’s car. Wicked Wheels returned them early – on Tuesday instead of Wednesday – and they did a great job. Really look like new. Quite a relief to have the car mobile again, and not looking as if it’s been vandalised.

Busy day yesterday: Dot was up at the surgery twice, seeing two different nurses about the skin on her arm. It turns out to be not serious: probably a fungal infection. Meanwhile I was seeing a physiotherapist – a former Norwich City FC physiotherapist, in fact, called Tim Sheppard. He gave my ankle a very thorough examination, and thinks the problem is that the muscle in my right leg is much weaker than the one in my left, possibly the result of my breaking the ankle while playing badminton centuries ago. Anyway, I have a series of exercises which should build it up and stop me falling over. After this I went to Mulbarton for the funeral while Dot went into the city. We got together again just after 3pm to visit her cousin Roger in his new place on the Heartsease estate. Really liked his house. Being an architect, he has managed to introduce some lovely touches. Then back home for supper before emerging again to go to the Bally Art Fair. Bought a few things as presents – some from Rupert, who seemed in good form. Mike’s big drawings were on show and looked terrific. Met Ali Whittle, and a few other people we know.

On Wednesday we went out to North Norfolk, first to visit Lucy at Paston, then on to the cemetery and later picking up  Jessie from the bus stop before having afternoon tea and mice pies (and sausage rolls) at hers. Lucy is much better in between chemo. Her father had a heart attack which alarmed everyone, but he is now recovering, it seems. Very resilient guy. Bet he makes it to 100.

This morning there was a mysterious crash as I was about to get out of bed. It appeared to have been caused by a large bird hitting the kitchen window, though no sign of an injured or dead bird outside. I took a picture of the imprint on the window, which came out quite well. Of course it could have been a small angel, though I suspect an angel would have seen the window and avoided it – or maybe just passed through.

The wind has returned, but accompanied today by quite mild temperatures. I have just been outside clearing up leaves, with other leaves dancing around me. Quite fun. Meanwhile Dot has gone off to make a delivery at a school in Horsford, followed by a visit to the NYFC Christmas sale in Cringleford. Not sure what the latter is, exactly, but Dot feels she has to go, as she’s a trustee. Last night the Archers hosted the Tuesday Group, and we gave Matt a lift. He lent me The Defense, by Vladimir Nabokov, which I would already have started if Joy had not sent me The Chymical Wedding, which I am enjoying. Nice to have a good novel on the go and another waiting. Wrote a poem yesterday, but I’m not too sure about it.

On Monday I scored the second luckiest win of my chess career when I avoided a perpetual check because I thought I saw a win, and was then totally lost. I set one last trap, and for once my opponent fell into it. I am playing again this evening – at Diss, for the B team, and I don’t think my luck can continue much longer. I have won four games in a row.

Ventured out into soggy but mild morning so that the dentist could clean my teeth – which with the advance in dentistry is now more painful than root canal work. Not that I want root canal work… Happily my teeth seem to be OK, and so do Dot’s. She went earlier in the week. We’re both feeling quite a bit better, despite having a very late night last night. Sue, Roger, Julia and Allan came round for a truly delicious meal prepared by my talented wife, who also cleaned the house from top to bottom. Literally. I always feel uneasy when this happens: I’m not sure it’s because I suspect I might be cleaned up or because I feel guilty about not working as hard as she is. Not that I ever do. She has 75% of the energy in this house. In addition to all the above, she also spent most of the morning at a school in Horsford, while I wandered up to the city to buy her a birthday present, pay the newspaper bill and get a couple of keys cut. Had lengthy chat with Big Issue seller who has just obtained a place in a hostel at Wymondham, away from people who are a bad influence on him. Hope it works out.

Poet Joy has sent me a copy of  The Chymical Wedding, which looks interesting. Paul phoned me up about an angler named Paul Lenton who appeared in the newspaper, having caught something fishy at Doddington. He seemed quite interested when I suggested we could go and look at the Lenton / Archer graves at Yaxley and in Northamptonshire. He also told me Thelma’s maiden name: Harrop.