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

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

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

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

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