Much windier today, and a bit cooler. Yesterday David and Oliver went for a long walk with Barbara; Roger did some photography on the beach; and Dot, Amy and I explored in the cove at very low tide, discovering new routes among the rocks and getting further along the beach amid a moon-type landscape.
Amy showed herself very adept at scrambling: as the rocks were sharp and high, this was quite alarming at times, but she seemed to have good judgement of what she was capable of. Later, we all went out for another walk: I took a slightly different route and took some photographs by the harbour wall, where the sea was rolling in.
After a Lighthouse breakfast with mimosas, the keener among us are off for a walk to the craft shop, and Roger and I are holding the fort.
Halfway through our week at Daymer Cottage. The Murrays and Dot have just left for Barnstaple to do more food shopping, and David and Oliver are playing a card game that Amy has invented. It’s intricate, but it works. I spent an hour playing it with her yesterday. Amazing creativity.
It’s overcast again, but we’ve had some very good weather as well as some rain. We discovered that we were entitled to the use of a beach hut at Woolacombe, which is a huge sandy beach beset by much surfing. We drove there down narrow lanes late on Saturday and managed to park solely because so many people were leaving. Dot obtained the beach hut key from the shop and we found the hut – Number 43, Myrtle – a bit of a trudge down the beach.
We returned yesterday for most of the day (parking £7 per car), and the children enjoyed it very much. It was warm, and the tide was exceptionally low: quite an expedition to reach it. Loads of surfing going on, and the children were able to use the board we found at the house. There were so many people on the beach that we kept losing each other, but the children were quite capable of finding the hut on their own. During the day we bought ice cream, and then chips, from stalls on the beach.
Sunday started grey, but became warm and sunny. We spent most of it down at Lee Bay, which expands dramatically when the tide is out. Loads of rocks and rock pools, and the children especially enjoyed a river that channels down across the beach. Oliver and I (with Roger) had reconnoitred the previous day and found a path to another cove: now the tide was far enough out to reach it across the rocks.
We found a cave and Oliver did much climbing on the rocks. The more vigorous among us decided we would all climb the steps up to the cliff at the far end and walk back round by the road: quite strenuous, but different. Back at the cove Dot and I stayed for an hour or so as the tide came in, until the small space remaining was overrun by dogs.
The house is delightful, with great views of the Bristol Channel and, in clear conditions, Wales. A few boats and kayaks pass at low tide.
Sitting in our lounge at Daymer Cottage, Lee, North Devon. It’s getting dark, the children and the Murrays have gone to bed, and the lights are coming on in what I suppose must be Wales. Amazing clifftop situation with a great view.
We arrived at about 3.30pm after a rather fraught journey from Lulworth Cove, using lesser roads to avoid traffic but thereby lengthening the journey. Dot felt ill after much delicate navigating, so we resorted to the main roads around Axminster and made reasonable progress north-westwards, though the traffic remained heavy. Meanwhile the Murrays and David had an even harder time of it, with David badly delayed by full motorways.
Our welcome supper arrived just after 6pm. Oliver and I took some photographs outside (rather nice setting sun), while Amy posed.
We had spent a couple of nights at Lulworth, where I had booked bed and breakfast at the Lulworth Mill House. We found ourselves in an annexe called the Boat House, with a fantastic view of the cove. I suspected this was a mistake, and so it proved, but we were able to keep the room (though it wasn’t cleaned on the Thursday, for which we got a £20 reduction). Two good meals too, in the Dandelion bistro, which turned out to be the same place.
Had to park quite a way from the hotel, but we did get a season ticket for the main parking area at Lulworth Cove, so that wasn’t too bad. Spectacular coastline. On the Thursday the weather was fine enough for us to walk the very steep hill path to Durdle Door, where we lingered awhile and saw a snake.
We returned to Lulworth for a cream tea (forgetting that I hate clotted cream) before driving via Weymouth to Portland for a great view of Chesil beach and the Olympic marina as it began to rain. Drove on to Portland Bill and the lighthouse, monolith and Pulpit Rock, where I took some nice pictures during a lull in precipitation. Very good day altogether, marred only slightly by dozy Dorset drivers.
Weather has been rather better than anticipated. Missed most of the heavy rain, and it remains warm.
Not an Australian poet, but Andrew on the beach at Winterton
A quiet few days in terms of getting out of the house, but of course the Olympics were coming to a climax and Dot was also – well – reaching the apogee of her house-cleaning programme preparatory to welcoming the Murrays when we return from Devon. The house now looks terrific and I am beginning to relax a bit. The weather has been good.
Have been out a bit, though. Yesterday, after our regular haircut, I rendezvoused with Lisa D’Onofrio and had a late lunchlet at Waterstone’s. As literature development officer back in 2003, she opened the door for me to take part in a poetry project which eventually turned into InPrint, and so changed my life, transforming me from a closet poet into a real one. She is a really good poet in her own right, but she is now living in Australia, her home country. We had a good 90 minutes of reminiscence and catching-up, following which I bought a new pair of trainers.
On Sunday Dot and I went to see Jessie after visiting the cemetery at North Walsham. It was actually a bit warm to sit in her summerhouse, so we moved indoors for scones and strawberries. She seems very well, apart from family worrries.
Last night I had my second game of chess this calendar year – a bizarre affair in the first round of the club knockout tournament. I got a clear advantage fairly early on and should have won, but I was too timid, blundered and then he was clearly winning. But he dropped a piece, and I got the advantage again, but couldn’t make anything of an extra pawn in a queen ending. So we have to play again in September. Not a classic. However, I picked up my prize for best game played at the club last season, which turned out to be a£25 John Lewis voucher – more than 100% larger than I thought it would be.
The Olympics has now ended, but it lingers on in the newspapers and on TV. After a brilliant opening ceremony, the closing ceremony was very poor musically (two songs from George Michael and Russell Brand singing a Beatles song – is that the best we can do?) though it did end with The Who, bringing a bit of belated class to the proceedings. Someone said that before the Olympics, everyone thought we were poor at sport but brilliant at music: now…
The Olympics are almost over, which means I shall be able to get back to a more ordered lifestyle, whatever that is. Keep popping upstairs to just miss crucial moments, and then sit on sofa for hours while nothing much happens. Watched open-water swimming yesterday, and now feel much more favourably towards the synchronised stuff. At least you know what’s going on, even if you don’t want to.
Some good moments, though. Mo Farah and Jessica Ennis, for instance. But I find myself really interested in people who do well but don’t win the gold, like the American Rupp, who finished second in the 10,000 metres and Yohan Blake in the 100m and 200m; and I’ve never felt so impressed by someone who finished last as by Andrew Osagie in the 800m, whose time would have won gold in any other Olympics.
Anyway. We now have a date for the work to be done in the living room – it will happen in the week after we return from holiday. The only thing that hasn’t been confirmed yet is the furniture removal on the Monday. But at least two people apart from me are pushing the insurance company to arrange it. The living room has remained watertight, and the sheet is still in place. Mr Bunn the Builder hasn’t given me a date yet for the roof work, but the timing there is not critical.
Various redecoration and replacement work is still in progress. The new curtains for the living room and the bedroom were put up yesterday and look excellent. Dot is now painting a wall of the cloakroom and I have put a couple of certificates up on the wall of the study. Meanwhile Andrew has been to stay with us.
Phil and I picked him up on Monday, which was his 64th birthday, and got him to Norwich in time for a birthday meal. Joy and Phil joined us, so there were five of us at Rushcutters for excellent food and a very efficient waitress, too. As we arrived back home for coffee, the Robinsons were driving down the road – returned to pick up their car after watching boxing at the Olympics – and so we invited them to join us, which rounded off the evening nicely. Andrew spent some time talking to Philip R towards the end…
Tuesday turned out fine and mild, so I took Andrew for a tour of the coast. We had a walk at Winterton (beach out, valley in), then some food in the cafe. We then drove up via Sea Palling and Hempstead (where Dot’s mum was born) to Happisburgh, where we parked on the new car park and went to the new loos. Andrew was a bit too tired to walk down the ramp to the beach, so we continued to Mundesley, where I drove to the cliff edge, then back to Stow windmill. Looked round the mill and climbed to the top, which Andrew quite enjoyed, I think.
On Wednesday it turned out that Andrew needed some new shoes, so we went to Clarke’s and bought him a pair for best and one for everyday. The iconic wherry Albion was moored at riverside, so we took a look. Philip called just before lunch with Andrew’s present. Following the remains of the roast chicken I had cooked the previous day, the two of us left for Coventry at 2.15pm in good weather. We called at Folksworth on the way to see our great-great-grandparents’ grave, and I noticed that the owners of an adjacent grave were probably our great-great-great-great-grandparents. The latter would have been born around 1760.
Straightforward journey, despite the lorry irritation factor. Called at Cambridge Services on the way back to find that they had deteriorated to such an extent, and so quickly, that the toilets were unusable. Sad. They started so well.
I have omitted Sunday, which was a full day. I dropped some stuff off at the Vicarage at about 11am, then picked up Phil at 11.45, packing all our instruments in the car with him and Dot. Quite a tight fit. We then proceeded to Potter Heigham, where we embarked on a church boat trip (six boats) to St Benet’s Abbey. I was a bit worried about sinking, as we had the massive Ian in our boat, but it turned out all right, once he had managed to board it. Sadly conditions at St Benet’s Abbey were such that he (wisely) didn’t try to make it to the field where the annual service was taking place and remained in the boat. There was torrential rain just after we arrived, but by the time those of us who could get out of the boat did so, it had slackened off, and there was only the occasional drop during the service itself, at which the Bishop preached (very well, as always). Afterwards we made a quick getaway and had a really nice sail back to Potter Heigham in sunshine and sudden warmth.
Dot needed a cup of teat at Potter Heigham, and so we crossed the bridge and found a pub at which there were only to good things: the tea and the barmaid. No ambience to speak of, and a noisy crowd of young men buying lots of lager. But the barmaid was pleasant and intelligent, so that was all good.
Potter Heigham to Lowestoft took longer than I thought it would, but we arrived at the Seagull in good time to rehearse our songs, and the evening went well. I was particularly pleased with our second set of two, ending on my new song, Feel Like I’m Falling Apart, which I like a lot. And if I don’t who else is going to? (Well, Andrew said he liked it when I played it to him on CD.) In the absence of Ian Fosten, Ivor compered very well indeed, ending with a poem incorporating all the acts. We got home about 10.30pm, having missed Usain Bolt’s first gold, but I think we all thought it was worth it. Which is quite remarkable, really.
Have managed to reach Friday in a rather stressful week. The roof has been fixed temporarily, and the ceiling has a tasteful white sheet covering the holes and the damp section. It stayed up at the second attempt. The second surveyor (for the builders) said the asbestos positive meant the whole ceiling would have to be removed and reinstated, which would involve moving all the furniture out and making good afterwards. Haven’t heard the insurance company’s reaction to this, but it leaves us still in limbo, which I hate. I am not good at waiting.
Meanwhile Dot has finished the wall-painting, and I have painted the trapdoor to the loft, because I am taller. Well, to be more accurate, I have painted it once, and I am about to paint it again. Dot is now immersed in improving the look of the garden, and keeps arriving home with a car full of plants. Keep catching bits of the Olympics, but not always the right bits. Happily the BBC website is quite good on videos of bits you miss. I am as pro-Team GB as anyone, but I did rather enjoy those South African rowers who came from miles back to snatch the gold.
Two further sources of stress: intermittent Broadband connection at the beginning of the week for no apparent reason; and the unexpected difficulty of finding transport for church members without cars who want to go on a boat trip to St Benet’s Abbey on Sunday for the afternoon service. This would have been difficult enough anyway, but Dot and I are taking Phil and going on to Lowestoft afterwards for our third Seagull gig, so couldn’t take anyone. One of our members with a car didn’t know if she was going until Thursday, another (understandably) didn’t want to come into the city to collect people, and the two people at St Luke’s who might have helped were unreachable by phone or email. Howard could borrow a people carrier but couldn’t drive it because he had no insurance. Aargh! In the end I gatecrashed the Vicarage and spoke to Heather, with the result that Nicholas is going to drive the people carrier.
Our church is full of people who can’t drive or don’t have a car, or both. On Thursday Ian asked me to pick him up from the City College midway through the evening, which I did, of course.
Tuesday was kind of a highlight, because I had tea with Lord and Lady Walpole at Mannington Hall. Also present were Lucy, Jo and John, and we were discussing the Paston event at the Hall in October (weekend of 27–28). As Chronicle, the four of us – Caroline, Rob, Kay and I – are going to do two half-hour slots, but we will have to rework The Heroine of Hungate to introduce a Mannington connection. This is not quite as obscure as I thought it was (there is a 15th century marriage), but it will take a bit of working out. Afterwards Jo and John paid for lunch for Lucy and myself (and them) at the Saracen’s Head. Very impressive spot for lunch. Excellent food. Probably the fist gooseberry compote with mackerel I have ever had.
In the evening Tuesday Group was at the Archers, and another excellent repast – this time sausages and mashed potatoes – was followed by a very tasty video by Rob Bell. This was almost matched culturally on Thursday by a second attempt at a poetry group at the Narthex at St John’s Roman Catholic Cathedral, led by Hilary Mellon. Ten of us present, and it worked much better than the one on Betjeman. We looked closely at three of six Larkin poems that he had read out electronically and without hiccoughs at the start. Found myself liking his work a lot, though not his rather dour philosophy.
Have just made a list of areas for which I am responsible, in an attempt to work out why I never have time to do anything. I am up to 24 at the moment.
And so the excitement continues. On Tuesday Dot and I picked up Oliver and Amy from Caddington and brought them back to Norwich for a few days, with fine weather forecast. Wednesday dawned fine and very warm, and so we headed to Winterton with an amazing amount of equipment and camped on a surprisingly crowded beach. Locals with dog were heard to ask “where all these people were in the winter” and add: “We want our beach back.” I didn’t point out that we came to Winterton at all times of the year; anyway they weren’t talking to me. There was a certain amount of paddling done, some frisbee throwing, some picnicking and some dashing about in the dunes. All in pretty warm weather.
On Thursday Amy and Dot did some shopping in the morning, and we had lunch at Prezzos. In the afternoon we drove to Mundesley. When we arrived (4pm) it was a bit chilly, with one of those misty things off the sea, but the longer we stayed, the brighter and warmer it became. Amy did some swimming in the sea, and even Oliver and Dot went a fair way in. Astonishingly, I paddled a bit too. By the time we left, just after 7pm, the beach was near-deserted and looked stunning in the evening sunshine. An idyllic couple of hours.
Oliver had heard someone mention fish and chips, so decided we should get some, and we drove to Bacton, where the chip shop was still open after its stated closing time, so we bought some fish and chips and ate it at the table outside. Embarrassingly late home.
Friday was warm again, and we took the City Sightseeing bus around the city, which was a bit expensive but good fun. David had phoned saying he was coming to stay the night, so we decided to go to Winterton again and have some games in the dunes, followed by tea and cakes in the excellent cafe. I impressed Oliver by my speed off the mark and my death-defying leap to reach the hide-and-seek base. Ended up aching all over, which was not so impressive. Got home shortly before David arrived, and we had an evening meal of chicken, some of which I had purchased earlier, at the same time as filling the car up with petrol (well, not exactly the same time, obviously).
Friday was also our 44th wedding anniversary and the opening of the London Olympics. We had prosecco to celebrate (provided by Dot) and then we all stayed up to watch the Olympics opening ceremony, which I thought celebrated our anniversary very well. We didn’t watch it all because it went on very late, but we recorded it, and Dot and I watched the ending today. I have to say I was greatly impressed.
Colin came on Saturday and finished off some stuff in the garden. He was going to do a temporary repair to the living room ceiling, but the company who are going to fix it wanted to see it as it was; so instead he’s left us a board to screw in after they come tomorrow. Meanwhile it rained heavily today, and water started flowing through one of the holes again. I rang up the roofer, who has promised to come tomorrow morning.
I preached at St Luke’s this morning and then went down to St Augustine’s to sort out various money matters and to get shown how our new heating system works. Stayed on to rehearse some songs for Lowestoft next week.
At last summer has arrived, and we are bathed in warm sunshine. Yesterday Adrian and Clarissa arrived in their Potter Heigham boat, Gliding Light, and moored at the bottom of the road. We joined them for a drink in the Compleat Angler (bottom deck), and later they came up to ours for a kind of high tea in the garden – sitting outside till about 10pm! They had their friends Brian and Celia with them, and we had a good evening. The weather is set to continue as we pick up Oliver and Amy later today.
An eventful few days, it must be said, starting last Thursday with a haircut and visit to a poetry session on John Betjeman in the Narthex at St John’s RC Cathedral. Still cool and wet then, and the session was not brilliant. The members of the group were less than inspiring, and leader Hilary M was not at her best, feeling the effects of blood sugar loss and having problems with the equipment.
Friday was brilliant, however. The surveyor eventually turned up and didn’t inspire an awful lot of confidence. We decided to let the insurers supply a builder for the ceiling repairs (skimming, replacing some plasterboard, and making the ceiling good), but the roof is not covered (if you see what I mean). So I have contacted Mr Bunn the Builder – well, he’s a roofer, actually. He came this morning and did inspire confidence. He’s going to make the roof watertight in the next couple of days and do a complete job on the “valley” and tiles a couple of weeks later. Needless to say the roof featured things he had never seen before.
But that’s not why Friday was brilliant. That was down to Anandi’s wedding at the Cathedral, which was a one-off. Not that it was perfect: the sermon was too long, we couldn’t see clearly, and we had difficulty hearing the speeches at the reception because Blackfriars Hall has lousy acoustics. But it was a fine day and it all had a lovely naturalness and simplicity – for instance, the bride and groom walked from the cathedral to Blackfriars. After the service we had champagne and nibbles in the cloisters for quite a long time: lots of people from St Augustine’s were there, but only Dot and I (plus the vicar and his wife) were invited to the reception. In the cloisters we had music from an a cappella group which had appeared on TV but which was composed mainly of friends of the groom – who sang a little bit as a tribute to his wife! Both Anandi and her new husband Dave are so likeable it’s frightening.
Debbie and Neil with (the Rev) Heather Cracknell, who took the service
On Saturday another “wedding”: this time a renewal of vows after 25 years by Debbie and Neil, two friends from St Luke’s. By now the weather was stunning, and the setting – Ranworth Church on the Broads – was equally gorgeous. Debbie went the whole hog with a white dress, bridesmaids and all the trimmings – we think because their actual wedding had been a registry office affair and very low-key. Cake and tea afterwards in the church grounds (it has a church hall cafe) completed the picture, together with a trip up the church tower, with its spectacular views.
Earlier in the day Colin came round and cut the hedge, and I went to the launch of Joe’s book, Journeying with Abraham, at St Andrew’s Church, Eaton. Couple of dozen people there, which was encouraging for him, and I had a chat with both him and Birgit. Then at the end of a very packed day, Dot and I went round to the Higbees for a meal, which was very relaxing. As a result of that, Alan H came round yesterday to put right a problem with the lighting in the loft that he had installed.
Bright day on Sunday: after a nice service at church, with Geoff debuting as preacher, we relaxed. Dot spent a lot of time gardening, and I watched quite a bit of the Open and saw the end of the Tour de France, with Wiggins in yellow, Froome second and Cavendish winning the final sprint. Which is about as perfect as it gets in the world of cycling.
Dot and Julia, shopping in hand, approach a cafe in Villers
I think we can say it hasn’t worked – in spades. But at least it’s stopped raining for the moment. That means there’s no water entering the roof space and finding its way down into the living room, via the piece of insulation that soaks it up and redistributes it through one of the two large holes in the ceiling, created when I placed my hand on it (very gently) from above.
I was trying to identify the source of the dampness and perhaps move some stuff to prevent it getting worse, but the smallest pressure on the ceiling was enough to thwart that plan. Now we are awaiting a phone call from the insurer’s surveyor to make an appointment to come and look at the damage. This is likely to involve some quite drastic work in the living room, and a bit on the roof too. I suspect that water had been getting inside and being soaked up for some time. The surveyor seems reluctant to ring: I reported it all 24 hours ago. But at least the water has stopped dripping through, and the room is usable.
The chaos is exacerbated by the fact that Dot is in the midst of redecoration in preparation for new curtains. She has nearly finished our bedroom (a new pole was fitted yesterday), and once that is done she will probably have to abandon painting the living room until we find out what needs to be done, and when. We managed to have our usual Tuesday Group meal and meeting last night, but Dot and I were totally shattered at the end of it. This morning she is visiting a school, but she should be back soon.
Not much has changed: it’s still raining. It’s like living under a giant sponge: you can feel the weight of it, and now it’s coming through the roof. Since my last post, however, we have been to France, where things were much different: they spoke French. It was still raining, though.
Despite that, we had plenty of memorable moments and a few dry ones. The journey both ways was extremely straightforward despite my habitual fears about what might go wrong. Eurotunnel’s system is little short of miraculous. You drive up to a machine that knows who you are and welcomes you. You then touch the screen to choose a train– which for us in both cases was scheduled at least an hour earlier than the one we booked for. It’s a bit slow going through customs, but the train is quite quick, and getting out of it even quicker.
Stayed with Julia and Dave at their second apartment in Villers sur Mer on the Normandy coast. Total drive from Norwich just over 370 miles. Dot drove to Folkestone through a lot of rain (quelle surprise), and I drove the rest. We left Norwich about 1.30pm after I had led the service at St Augustine’s, and arrived at Villers, following Dave’s impeccable instructions, just before night fell. No e-mail reception throughout holiday.
On arrival I fell over in the car park – backwards over one of those metal things – and injured my arm rather painfully, though I could still do most things without any trouble. Not sure what it is (muscle tear?) but I now have extensive bruising on the inside of the arm near the elbow.
On the Monday we walked into town and looked at a historical exhibition of illustrated cards and letters and had coffee at a cafe. Back at the apartment we had lunch in the garden (the only time we were able to do this), and in the afternoon did a hilly walk round the “back of Villers”, initially past a parked vehicle containing a circus lion. Nearly six miles in all, and topped off with an ice cream back in town, followed by an evening meal with the Evetts. Cloudy day, but mainly dry. Yes, dry.
On the cliffs at Etretat
Tuesday was also mainly dry, though cloudy. Dave drove us to Etretat via le Pont de Tancarville, which is cheaper than le Pont de Normandie, but not so pretty. Etretat was wonderful, though: amazing cliffs. Had lunch in different restaurant from last time: moules marinieres et frites and some wonderful cidre brut. Then on to Fecamp, where we visited the Benedictine palace/distillery, with free sample at end: I had Benedictine and Brandy cocktail, or B & B, as it’s sometimes known, followed by a swift crepe. Walked about three miles altogether. Salady meal with the Evetts in evening.
The castle at Falaise
Started cloudy on Wednesday, with rain threatening. Bit of rain later, but also some sun. Drove to Cambremer (i.e. Dave drove: my car was in garage throughout), where we stopped for coffee, and Dot bought me a bracelet. Village is known for its scarecrows. Then on to Falaise, where we had lunch at a lovely restaurant in town (omelette and frites) before visiting William the Conqueror’s amazing castle and finding out a lot more about him than I knew. There was an audio tour with chess featured at the outset as symbolic of the court system, and much more besides. Technology was a bit intermittent, but it was interesting hearing about it all from the French side.
Drove back through Breuvons en Auge but resisted the famous crepes as we were eating a proper meal with Dave and Julia when we got back.
Thursday was my birthday – and for the third year running I was not at home. I was 67, and it was the worst day of the holiday for weather. We took the bus to Honfleur and had a nice birthday meal in a restaurant there, sitting next to the guy who created fruits de mer. Entertaining, but I had duck. It started raining while we were eating, and didn’t stop. Afterwards we wondered round the harbour, and Dot bought a top, then Dave and I walked up by the harbour and towards the sea, then through the Garden of Personalities (busts of Francoise Sagain and others) while Dot and Julia continued shopping.
Julia and Dot get down to some serious wildflower identification at Cabourg
Next day was Friday the 13th, but despite that it was a much better day – dry till evening. Went into Villers in the morning, and Dave and I had a brief walk in a muddy wood (part). Dot bought a waterproof jacket in the market and we got some wonderful Normandy pâté, which we had for lunch. In the afternoon we drove to Cabourg, where we had a lovely walk along the spit of land at the side of the estuary – mainly dunes featuring wildflowers that fascinated Julia and Dot. They had a book.
Then back to the prom, which we walked down to the Grand Hotel, then Duponts for tea and cake. In all we walked about 8½ miles during the day. Seafood meal with Dave and Julia in the evening to round off the holiday.
Wrote no poetry in France for some reason, but did finish off a song that I’m rather pleased with, called I feel like I’m falling apart.
The journey back on Saturday was smooth. We stopped again at the Aire de la Baie de Somme, which was very busy. Got to the tunnel about 90 minutes early, but were put on a train immediately. As we emerged into England, there was a massive downpour, and the first miles up the M20 were very difficult. We stopped at Maidstone services, but then I continued driving all the way home (Julia had made us sandwiches). Strangely, didn’t feel tired until the next day.
Got home to find e-mail from Stuart warning that the church hall wasn’t finished and we probably wouldn’t be able to have service.Called the cleaner, Sophie, who wasn’t quite so alarmist, and when we eventually got there on Sunday morning, it was fine, though a bit smokey. Howard had been there earlier and put the chairs out. The radiators weren’t complete, but it looks good. Ruth led, and I preached a sermon I’d written before we went on holiday. Went surprisingly well. The rest of the day we gradually got back to normal.
Today I walked into town to pay in some money for St Augustine’s, and got fairly wet. Dot painted a wall in the bedroom, then noticed a damp patch on the ceiling in the living room. So in a brief respite from the rain we got out the ladder and I climbed up to the top gutter to remove some plant and earth debris there. Little bit precarious, but I didn’t look down. Will have to wait and see if it’s worked.
