Monthly Archives: March 2008

30 March 2008

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Yesterday we swapped the new sidelights for the sitting room, which had proved to clash with the new paint, and decided to go for a walk. Earlier it had been bright and promising, but by the time we reached Hemsby it had grown rather dull, and it was very windy. We negotiated quite deep water at the entrance to the car park and then walked along the valley and up into the dunes, where I took this picture with my mobile phone. I hadn’t really gone prepared: I think I thought we’d be going home before walking, so I had no camera and the wrong shoes. We walked back along the valley, and not long after we got back to the car it started raining.

As it was a day for taking things back, we called at Sainsbury’s and swapped a bright blue bath mat for something browner.

I had been feeling pretty brown the previous day – very down, in fact. It had rained all day and been extremely grey. Several things got on top of me, and it just felt like a wasted day – not part of real life. Strange, because the previous evening we had had a lovely time, going out for a birthday curry with Heather and Sam, who was 14, and some of their friends. Excellent food and company, and the weather had been good enough to walk to and from Ali Tandoori’s on Magdalen Street.

Today the weather was much improved. It could almost be described as warm, which was appropriate as it was the first day of British Summer Time. Happily I remembered to put the clocks forward, unlike LD, who arrived at church with her guitar and looked astonished to find that the service was well under way. It’s always nice when someone does that (he said sadistically). One day I will do it myself. Anyway, we decided to go for another walk – down by the river beyond Heigham Street – a path I’d discovered a couple of weeks ago after visiting the chiropractor. Quite a pleasant three-mile walk (back along Marriott’s Way) but although the river level has dropped dramatically, the edges and fields are still very wet.

In the evening almost forgot to go to Ambient Wonder, but made it in time. Seemed to go well: Annette liked my poems, which is always nice.

26 March 2008

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As well as snow over Easter, we had flooding too. Here is Oliver at Pull’s Ferry in Norwich, where the River Wensum came over the pathway.

I stopped writing yesterday before I’d quite finished, because we had to dash out to a meeting of our church ministry team – beautifully chaired by Bridget, who not only created an agenda on the spot but got through it in good time. The lunch at the Red Lion on Sunday was good, although hardly anyone got through it, except Joe and Ilona, who devoured some very English fish and chips. They were on good form and clearly enjoying their holiday despite the weather – or maybe because of it: Joe said it was colder in Germany. Afterwards our family went to St Augustine’s, where I had promised to clear up, but found it had been done. Instead the grandchildren got a lot of pleasure out of running up and down the hall. Clearly what we need is a running service. I must suggest it to the vicar.

Monday was the snowiest day, and Oliver and Amy had fun outside with Nana (see yesterday’s picture) before (a) it melted (b) they got so cold they had to come in. Later we debated what kind of expedition we might try, but ended up with a short walk up to the Red Lion and back on the Riverside Path (see today’s picture). The wind was bitterly cold, and we were glad to get back.

Over the weekend Oliver showed off his expertise on the computer. He now has an account on mine and can initiate chats and send e-mails, among other things. When they all went home they encountered a blizzard on the A11 just outside Norwich and nearly turned back (about 7pm), but carried on and found much calmer weather beyond Thetford, arriving safely. Oliver, who fell over and banged his head before Easter, is still feeling a bit fragile, which is probably the result of mild concussion.

On Tuesday I cooked a chili con carne for Ruth and Steve, two friends who have a new baby. We took it round, admired their house and baby, and then visited the nearby lighting store, where we bought four sidelights and two other hanging lights – one for the study and one for the kitchen. On unpacking them today, Dot has decided the sidelights are wrong (blueish and not white, as we thought), and so they will go back. Ho, hum. They were the only ones I felt sure about.

The weather is still unpleasant – grey, cold and damp. Dot is about to go in the city to meet some friends. I decided to stay in and get some stuff done for Sunday’s Ambient Wonder. Besides, the vicar is coming at 2pm to discuss the church website.

25 March 2008

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Grandchildren Oliver and Amy gang up on Dot outside our house over the Easter weekend, which was very cold indeed. Snow came and went, there was high wind and it was generally unpleasant. Nevertheless, it was full of pleasant things.

On Maundy Thursday Dot and I went to a meal at St Luke’s which was combined with a kind of meditation event afterwards. About 50 present, and food by Suzanne and Ali – therefore excellent. No-one was allowed to help themselves, so those who had perfected the art of looking hungry, or were sitting next to a generous and perceptive person, did best.

On Good Friday our family came to visit for an extended weekend. In the evening Julia and Barbara, a couple of friends, came round to share a meal with us, and on the Saturday I was involved with the Paston Medieval Fair and Open Day in St Margaret’s Church, sharing responsibility for a poetry and print workshop with Annette Rolston on behalf of InPrint. Had to get there by 9am. As I passed through Walcott, the sea was very, very rough and spraying the road. Chaos at the church as cars and vans unloaded in a situation that was totally unsuited – pretty medieval in fact. Added to the mix were mud and a gale-force, bitter wind.

Despite the conditions, visitors numbered over 500 – possibly 800, someone said. Annette and I were constantly busy, mainly with children wh0 wanted to print themselves a bookmark or letter/poem. Rupert turned up at the outset and helped us set up; Caroline and Lisa, with her family, came at the end. Mid-afternoon Dot turned up with the rest of our family – extremely brave of them – and Oliver and Amy printed some pictures – or at least Oliver did, and Amy chose some shapes to go on a bookmark, which Annette printed for her later. While all this was going on strange medieval events were taking place inside and outside the church – dancing and rabbit-skinning, to name but two. One particularly brave medieval group pitched camp in the graveyard.

Packing up took for ever, with a bit of hassle from the locals, who wanted their groundsheet back and their table in the vestry. But in the end I got back to Norwich before the others, who had been visiting Jessie in North Walsham.

No rest on Easter Sunday, when I organised our church service. Went quite well, but overran badly, which made us a little late for the second major event of the day – a family meal at the Red Lion in Eaton (a few yards from where my mother was born, as it happens). As well as the six of us there were Phil and Joy, Birgit and Joe, and Birgit’s brother Joe and his wife Ilona, together with her mother – these last three on holiday from Germany.

19 March 2008

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This is a picture just received of three of my cousin Howard’s four daughters: they are Beverley, Charmaine and Jeanette, and the picture was taken at the engagement party for Bev’s son Leonard (named after his grandfather, presumably) and his girlfriend Lauren in South Africa. I’ve met Bev recently, of course, and am e-mailing Jeanette on a regular basis. Nice to keep in touch with a branch of the family I’ve known little about.

The hectic life continues. On Monday I took Andrew back to Coventry (about 300 miles round trip), with some heavy traffic entailing two diversions. Then in the evening I played chess and got a good draw against our B team’s top board, which was quite pleasing.

The weather’s turned quite cold, and I’ve been busy preparing for the Easter weekend and for the Paston open day on Saturday, which promises to be Siberian, given that the church it will be held in is icy at the best of times. The forecast indicates that the best of times weatherwise is not any time soon: there is even a risk of snow. Ho, hum. Despite all this, I’ve managed a couple of nice walks in the last couple of days. Yesterday, after visiting the chiropractor for a cursory look at my back, which has been good for some time now, I walked along Heigham Street and found a path by the river leading out to Sweet Briar Lane. I never knew this existed, and in the circumstances it was quite enchanting. The river (Wensum) was very high, with some flooding which no doubt covered a multitude of sins. Some lovely shades of green, swirling water, and nobody about. There was a conserved marsh – unfortunately too muddy to walk round – and the sun kept peeping through, glinting off the water. After reaching the ring road, I walked up it, looking for the long-distance footpath that I knew was there. When I found it there was no access, but I scrambled down a steep back on to it, and followed it back to my starting point. Just when you think you know the city, it reveals something unexpected.

Today we had our hair cut at Reepham, and I walked nearly to Salle and back, then revisited it while Dot was being seen to and spent some time looking round Salle Church, which is huge. I then drove a circle of a few miles through delightful countryside – again rather unexpected, as it isn’t on the coast or near a river. But it was very open, with long views, and quiet. Even the huge ploughed fields had a strange kind of beauty. Good walking country. We both said we wouldn’t mind living in the area. I met Dot for lunch in our usual spot – Kerri’s Barn, and then drove back into Norwich, where I continued with my preparations while Dot did a big shop for what promises to be a very busy weekend. She still hasn’t quite finished her inspection report and has just shot off to Gillingham, for a governors’ committee meeting.

16 March 2008

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Andrew taking a look at our parents’ new gravestone on Saturday morning. An unusual aspect of the picture is that it shows the Rosary open to High Green following the demolition of the fence by high winds. We had a good look round the cemetery and found several friends’ graves.

After lunch we drove to Hemsby, which we found shrouded by a thick mist. There can’t be a village anywhere more totally desecrated by cheap and tatty holiday development, but still you can walk along the valley toward Winterton and find yourself quite isolated in an area of wild beauty. The feeling of isolation was heightened by the mist, and as it was not at all cold, the walk we did was very pleasant. We climbed over on to the beach to find that what used to be gentle dunes had become a sand cliff practically all along the beach between the two villages. I still find the area magical, including the Glebe area behind the second row of dunes where we used to holiday when I was a child. We looked for the two bungalows we used to stay in, and may have found them – but there have been quite substantial changes, including a tarmac road where there used to be an earth track. I remember the greengrocer’s truck coming round regularly.

In the evening we went down to the Nelson for a meal, which was very pleasant, though I think the restaurant is aimed at a somewhat younger clientele – and of course at the residents at the Premier Inn, which adjoins it. Not much we could do today outside because of the abysmally wet and unpleasant weather, so we watched a couple of videos. Norwich and Spurs both lost this weekend, and Wales deservedly won the rugby grand slam. Delighted to see Hamilton took the Australian grand prix.

Last week Dot did a school inspection at Eccles, near Attleborough, and the governors took her for lunch – at her cousin’s restaurant: Peter Beales Bistro. I’ve been busy devising and writing invitations to a party we’re holding in August to mark our ruby wedding anniversary – this one for friends rather than relatives. Also writing an Easter Communion service. All very hectic. Oh, yes – I also went for a pre-op check-up at the hospital and found I was probably fit enough to withstand general anaesthetic. Of course by the time they actually administer it – April 16, incidentally, and not the 17th as previously reported – it could be a different matter.

Ruth and Steve have had a baby girl – Beatrice Norah.

11 March 2008

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A rather nice picture of Dot – one of many I took in the garden the other day. Is it surprising that the woman in the bank today asked if we were over 50? Well yes, it’s extremely surprising in my case, but she was trying to persuade us to open a new account. Not so surprising in Dot’s case.

A very busy few days. What happened to those long hours of relaxation that retirement was supposed to provide? On Saturday we had two social events – the first at Hingham, where a former EDP colleague was bidding farewell to a few friends before departing to do some work in the Seychelles. Disappointingly good buffet, so I couldn’t sit back and ignore it. Ralph and Lynne were the hosts, and most of the guests were sub-editors or former sub-editors (or their spouses): Graham and Glenys Bradshaw, now resident in Leicestershire; Bruce and Cynthia Robinson (Sheringham), Robin and Shelagh Limmer (Denton), Brian Caldecott and Tricia (Old Catton); Simon and Anna Procter (Hockham); Tracey Bagshaw (Ormesby); and two of Lynne’s friends. Really enjoyable afternoon. In the evening we were at Menita and Regis’ home in Norwich, with a cosmopolitan bunch including three French, two Italians and a Brazilian, plus someone born in Glasgow (hang on, that was Dot). Excellent continental food, as you might expect, and some nice wine, as you also might expect, but I had to restrict myself severely, as I was driving. I could pick up quite a bit of the French, but when Menita started talking to her Italian friend, and I had to give up. Interesting listening to a conversation where you can’t understand a single word. Regis’ sister, who came from Lyon with her husband Gilles, wanted advice on what to call her upmarket interior design company. Apparently it’s quite chic in France to have an English name, which has to be the height of irony, since the opposite is the case here.

There was another meal at church on Sunday, but I managed to resist the trifle, largely because trifle is not high on my list of favourite foods. Watched too much television again, taking in the odd FA Cup tie and some rugby, in which Scotland beat England in a less than enthralling game (I actually didn’t watch that till yesterday) and Ireland lost to Wales.

There was quite a storm on Sunday night, though it was less severe here than in the south-west. Still, extremely wet and windy: not the sort of weather you’d want to be out in. It lingered a bit into Monday, but I braved the elements to get some website training at the vicarage. Most of it was pretty straightforward, but I was hampered a bit by the fact that the system involved didn’t run very well on either Safari or Firefox, which is not too impressive for a system nowadays. There were four of us learning it, including the vicar, who is clearly happier training than being trained! I think I’m going to be moderating the site when it goes live, though it’s going to be difficult keeping any sort of control.

In the afternoon we eventually managed to bring the motor insurance horror to an end by visiting a local broker, telling the story and showing him the documents. He fixed us up with a new policy at quite a reasonable price: it was such a relief to be able to talk to someone face to face. I wrote letters to Direct Line, who had cancelled our policy, and to Zurich, who had messed us about for two or three weeks and caused the problem in the first place. I hope that will be the end of it.

An amazing number of friends and relatives have been having problems recently. Must be something in the air. I had a really bad night again last night, for no apparent reason. I now have a date for my biopsy – April 17 which, coincidentally, is my father’s birthday. Tomorrow I have to go to the hospital to check if I am healthy enough to lose consciousness.

We went up into the city earlier today to switch Dot’s ISA to online and, as I anticipated, couldn’t avoid opening a current account there after the adviser told us how wonderful it was. I try to keep financial matters as simple as possible, but it’s getting more and more difficult to do so.

The weather improved for a while earlier today, but it’s now got worse again, and gales are threatened in a different part of the country. We may get away with it a second time.

7 March 2008

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A close-up of my parents’ grave, with the marble refurbished and new headstone. Hope Andrew likes it, as he’s been wanting it done for a long time. He’s due to come to Norwich next weekend, so we shall find out. I think it looks pretty good. Next week sees the anniversary of both their deaths – mum on the 11th and Dad on the 13th – his 52nd and her 14th. Sandwiched neatly in between is Phil’s birthday, something he is not going to forget.

Today the weather is bright, but still blustery. Quite a bit milder. Dot has just gone up to see the nurse for a routine check-up. Tuesday evening went well, with a rather splendid salmon dish for eight cooked entirely by Dot. Afterwards we listened to a tape by a guy who was really too laid back for that late in the evening and spoke very slowly. So although what he said was good, people started falling asleep. One of the things he said was that if God stopped loving us we would cease to exist. The same goes for everything created. I rather like that.

Wednesday was very stressful for various reasons, mainly to do with the insurance company but partly because I got the results of my blood test, which were not as good as I had hoped they would be. So it seems likely that I will have to have the mammoth 20-strike prostate biopsy, which involves general anaesthetic but is only a day procedure. Ironically I feel fine and the symptoms are much less than they were a year or two ago, but you can’t argue with PSA levels. Apparently. I spoke to the consultant’s secretary, but although she said she’d get back to me, she hasn’t. Is this a good sign or just normal incompetence?

In the evening I played chess at Diss, which involved picking up two team members – one from the other side of the city – and driving there, which took a total of about an hour each way. We lost 3-1, but I managed a draw on Board Two, though I was disappointed to miss what might have been a win earlier in the game. We had a strong guest player on Board One, but he lost to Mike Harris, as most people do.

Very poor night’s sleep on Wednesday – about four hours – and I had to get up early yesterday to give a talk on poetry at Costessey Junior School for Sheila Greenacre, who’s a friend and the assistant head. Managed to get there in good time, and the session went very well, partly because Sheila is a very good teacher, partly because they were an excellent set of children. Used quite a few of my poems, but also a couple of others – notably W B Yeats’ He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven (Yeats is a brilliant poet who never quite got the hang of titles). One of my favourites, and they seemed to appreciate it. I thought of doing it as I was lying in bed at about 5am, trying to sleep.

Afterwards we went to Dunston Hall for a bar meal and to make arrangements for our ruby wedding do in August. All went well, but by the time I got home I was pretty well shattered, and we plonked in front of the TV and did some more catching up. While Dot did some work preparing for next inspection I watched Van Helsing – a horror film that’s surprisingly good. I don’t normally watch horror films, but I’d heard it was exceptional, and it is.

In the evening I took the momentous decision to stop watching or recording Torchwood after viewing a particularly tedious episode about someone who is supposed to be walking around dead but acting normally. I love Dr Who, but this spin-off totally fails. The lead character is supposed to be charismatic, but is a smug bit of nothing with no redeeming features. No-one is interesting, the scripts are wooden, and the direction lacks any spark at all. You just hang on waiting for the one new idea to come along, and too often it doesn’t. There’s also a nihilistic background philosophy, which grates. It’s very unusual for us to stop watching a series we’ve started, but last night’s episode was just too appalling. There was no reason to go on, and if you lived in the Torchwood world, it would be hard to see why you would want to. No motivation, either for the viewer or the cast. I have stopped loving Torchwood. It has ceased to exist.

4 March 2008

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Granddaughter Amy turns on the charm – something she’s extremely good at. Meanwhile her brother Oliver has learned to swim underwater. I personally have no problem getting under water, but I can’t swim there. I can sink quite well. Oliver has also started e-mailing us, so it’s clearly just a question of time before he has his own website.

Dot has pretty much finished the living room, and all the pictures have been rearranged, because some of the frames didn’t suit the new paint. All looks good, I have to say. We’re just back from the city, where we ordered new insides for our sofa cushions to try to stop them falling forward. I wonder if I would stop falling forward if I had new insides. We also put some money in Dot’s ISA, so of course we got the hard sell about switching to an online one. I really can’t be bothered arguing any more, so we’re going to do that. Needless to say, we’ve heard nothing from the insurance company. What would it take to get them to react? A pile of manure on their doorstep? No, I’m not going to do that. Oh, I don’t know. It’s an idea.

Bought some food from M&S and then had a look at some lights in John Lewis. Weather is very cold and windy, as it was on Sunday (Mother’s Day), when we went to North Walsham cemetery and also to the Rosary, where we found that my parents’ grave had been totally refurbished, with a new headstone and words. Looks really terrific. I haven’t had the bill yet.

It was cold yesterday too, when I played for my club’s A team at The Goat, Skeyton, which is so in the middle of nowhere that I suspect the home team were hoping to pick up a few points from defaults when opposing players couldn’t find it. Well, we all found it (I know it well, of course), but we might as well not have done because only our captain managed to avoid losing. I played weakly again after my momentary resurgence in February.

Saw the nurse again this morning, who repeated her usual mantra that my blood pressure was just below the level where they would start prescribing things. I’m amazed it’s not higher after this last week, but even if they do prescribe things, I have no intention of taking them.
Instead I have an olive oil spray to get rid of some of the wax in my ears. How romantic is that?

I’ve submitted a couple of poems and short piece of fiction for the Fish competitions. I think the piece of fiction is really quite good, so it clearly has no chance. That’s the way competitions work.

1 March 2008

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Another picture from last weekend, showing grandson Oliver shortly after an attack by a giant ball, which he eventually defeated. It’s roughly how I feel at the end of a week when I’ve slept badly for three nights and failed to get anywhere with the insurance company. I’ve now written to the chief executive (recorded delivery), but no response yet. Feeling so out of sorts that I had a go at the guy in the building society yesterday when he suggested I wouldn’t have to queue for the one till that was open if I had a different account. On the plus side, I didn’t punch him in the mouth.

March has come in like a lion, with huge storms last night – hail battering at the windows and high winds from the north. It’s calmed down a bit this morning, and the sun is out, but it’s still turbulent, and colder weather is promised for next week. Despite this, it will turn out to be a warmer month than normal. It always does.

On Thursday it was calm and sunny, and while Dot visited her aunt in Hethersett, I went for a four-mile walk from Hethersett to Ketteringham Hall and back. This was a delightful walk over open country that’s quite high for Norfolk, but it did have the drawback of crossing the A11 dual carriageway – and we’re not talking bridge here. I resisted the temptation to thrown myself in front of a truck (not very strong, actually) and was patient enough to cross quite safely. Not something I’d like to do with my grand-daughter Amy, though. Oliver is a different matter: he would be very careful and do exactly what I said. Still, a bit hairy standing in the central reservation waiting for a gap.

Afterwards had lunch at Park Farm with Dot: extremely civilised, with lots of well-behaved elderly people like us (!) . The ancient gentleman before me at the counter had trouble ordering two drinks: he got two halves of lager and then decided he really wanted one half of lager and a glass of wine, which turned out to be white when he wanted red. He was then asked what food he wanted, which threw him completely, and he started looking vaguely towards the restaurant section and muttering to himself. Fortunately, someone else served me at this point, or we might have had the first ever incident of Park Farm screaming.

Dot has been painting a lot over the last week, and is still doing it as I write. The ceiling in the living room is finished, and so are a few walls – I’m not sure how many. I have been trying to get some stuff ready for Paston, but have found it hard to concentrate. Yesterday I went up to have a blood test and forgot the paperwork, which is very unlike me. Happily I knew what the test was for (PSA, of course), and she did the test, allowing me to return later with the correct form.

Lack of social events in the past three days has enabled us to catch up a little with a huge backlog of recorded TV, but we’ve really been sitting in front of the screen too much. Still, my weight is down to under 12 stone, which is encouraging.