Monthly Archives: February 2011

Perfectly positioned in the middle of nowhere

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Yes, it's another flower picture: the legendary snowdrop walk at Walsingham

On an uncharacteristically springlike day last Thursday, Dot and I decided to go to Walsingham for the snowdrop walk. As she needed to go to the chemist first to obtain relief for persistent mouth ulcers, we took a somewhat unusual route, crossing to Aylsham and then taking the road past Blickling Hall to Saxthorpe (near Little London) and then on through Melton Constable, the only Midland coal-mining town in Norfolk. Not really coal-mining, of course: it just looks like it. The railway is really to blame: oddly, Melton Constable used to be the hub of Norfolk’s railway system. Perfectly positioned in the middle of nowhere. What were they thinking?

From there a beautiful high road (high for Norfolk, that is) stretches across to the main Cromer-Lynn road and from there it was a short distance north to Walsingham, via Great Snoring. Now that’s what I call a Norfolk village. Negotiating the maze that is Walsingham, we found the car park and had a lunchtime snack – deliberately small to make up for the lovely but substantial meal we had enjoyed the previous evening at Cafe Rouge in Norwich, where I at last managed to make use of my Gourmet Society card. I do like Cafe Rouge: the food is always good, and the service friendly.

Walsingham was pretty crowded for February – it was half-term, after all – but the walk in the priory grounds (they call it an Abbey, but technically it isn’t) was very pleasant, despite some slight muddiness. The temperature was mild enough for me to leave my anorak in the car, and I was glad I did. Short look round the museum and old courthouse afterwards, and of course we had to pop into the shop, where I unexpectedly bought a book critiquing Stephen Hawking’s theory that we don’t need God any more. I’ve already read it (it was very short), and found it lucid, convincing and surprisingly funny.

I’ve also finished another couple of books recently: Surface Detail by Iain M Banks, and The Lost Honour of Katharina Blum, by Heinrich Böll (translated from the German). I love Banks’ SF Culture novels, and this was up to par, though unnecessarily gruesome in places. The Culture civilisation itself is a wonderful idea, which I just tried to describe here, but have deleted my description on the grounds that it sounds silly when the Culture is in fact marvellous. I like to think of them as angels, but when they are in fact massive ships with lightning-fast Minds, they’re probably not everyone’s idea of an angel. Take it from me, they’re a lot better than they sound.

I’ve always liked Böll, and this short novel is typically crisp and typically Continental, in a good way. It’s about the way the media can distort and destroy someone who is basically innocent, but done in a deadpan, unemotional style. I’m not sure any modern European newspaper would sink to the the depths portrayed here, but the warning note is true.

Very wet journey to Martham on Friday night, standing in as a guest for our chess C-team, who often seem to run out of players. Odd game: missed a move early on that would have given me a big advantage, then nothing much happened for a long time until I recklessly broke through and gave him some play as a result. Then made a very bad move that accidentally turned out much better than it should have, and I would almost certainly have won in a complex position, but I was very short of time. I think I was right to accept his offer of a draw, because I would almost certainly have lost on time otherwise. On the way home in pouring rain I almost aquaplaned off the A47, but just held it on the road. So I nearly lost twice.

On Saturday we met Heather Savigny and Simon for lunch at Bishop’s, which is quite a high-class restaurant run by the father of one of Sam’s friends. Excellent meal of the Green-Inn type. Planning to take the Higbees there as a thank-you for Allan lighting up our loft. Spent a lot of time discussing Heather’s fight for equal rights at the university, which is apparently run by intransigent white males. Surprising: I had thought UEA was more radical.

I did sermon at church yesterday on part of Romans 8, and the process going on in creation. Paul writing about entropy roughly 1800 years before it was discovered (or given a name, anyway). Today Dot is en route to Eltham College for a P4C session with Barbara. I should get a lot done, or, if previous experience is anything to go by, not much.

Lighting in the loft

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Spring flowers in the Rosary, pictured on iPhone during my walk yesterday

Rainy and miserable today, with Dot off into North-East Norfolk for a meeting with a friend. Yesterday Allan H was round all day, mostly in the loft, installing lighting so that Dot can spend even longer up there than she does now. Unsurprisingly, it proved a longer job than expected, but it seems to have worked. While clearing up afterwards, Dot produced a suitcase of old paperwork which proved to be mainly her letters to me before we married, plus some rather bad short stories and poems I wrote in the same era, and a few photographs. Also my mother’s handbag and some letters she’d written to me. No doubt I will be leafing through it all some time in the near future.

While this was going on I walked up to the Rosary on the way to the supermarket (trying to get some exercise) and became rather melancholy for no apparent reason. Envisaged David and Oliver coming to see my grave and Amy asking Dot: “Why did Grandad die?” I do tend to be a bit morbid nowadays. Snapped out of it fairly quickly on reaching the supermarket, which was overrun by half-term families. Dearth of rice, for some reason, but managed to get some for Tuesday Group meal, which featured Matt on curry. Dot had to run the gauntlet of football traffic to fetch him, but I devised a cunning route for her that worked a treat. Didn’t work quite so well when I took him home afterwards, but you can’t have everything. Even Norwich City managed to thrown away a win, and Spurs went one worse by losing 3-1 to Blackpool. Meanwhile in New Zealand a huge earthquake devastated Christchurch: Louise Robinson came round in the afternoon (when I was out, annoyingly) to reassure us that her parents were not involved, but in fact Anne had texted us in the night with just that message. Christchurch is part of their itinerary, but at the moment they are in Auckland. Very thoughtful of Louise to realise we might be worried.

Last Saturday was probably my most energetic day  for years. We spent most of it painting a couple of walls in the living room – a process that also included going to the shop for extra paint; touching up two coats all round the room where the skirting heating had been; glossing the skirting board; moving three bookcases to different levels; hoovering the entire house; and, mysteriously, sorting out my tools drawer and stumbling across 28 screwdrivers. Quite enough for one day, you might think. But in the evening we had the Greenacres round for a meal: Sheila is a teacher I’ve worked with a number of times over the years and her husband David, who we’d never met, is an ex-police officer.  Dot and Sheila had never met either. As Dot had done most of the painting, I cooked the main meal and purchased most of the starter from the supermarket. Something must have gone right, because we had a really good time.

Other things going right: I managed to draw a difficult chess game against Yarmouth on Monday. I played a German dentist who had no local grade but seemed pretty strong to me. Was pleased to hold a tricky bishop-and-pawns ending. Sadly, our captain lost a won game and we are now probably heading for the dreaded drop. Felt for him, as he is very keen and an excellent captain, as well as being a nice bloke. And on Sunday at close to 11am we were staring at a congregation of about five for Communion, but we ended up with around 20. Don’t know why that happens. Scarily, David Coomes is threatening to come to our service on April 10 when they are visiting and I’m leading.

Blunder after the sandwich break

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Amy with picnic in the living room

Very little time in the past week to do anything very constructive in the way of writing. Not sure why that should be, since Dot was away for a day and a half at Dudley, doing her P4C thing. I did manage to write a poem, just in time to make the deadline for entry to the Norwich Writers’ Circle competition, which I won last year. In fact I entered seven poems and walked them up to the secretary’s house the other side of Colman Road to make sure they got there in time. It was also an excuse for a decent walk, and happily the weather was sunny, though cold. Managed a similar-length walk (just under four miles) the next day – Tuesday – after I dropped the car off for £500 worth of work (service, brakes, bodywork, MOT, European Assistance).

The following day Dot and I had a lie-in, watching a tape that Phil had lent me some time ago. During this I began to feel pretty ill, with a bad headache and sore eye, plus tiredness. Strange. Took several doses of paracetamol, which meant I had recovered sufficiently to drive to Diss in the evening for a chess match. Got a good position but blundered and lost following the sandwich break. Together with my draw on Monday, this brought to an end my unlikely run of five wins. Sad, but not as sad as the death of Phyllis Todd, the oldest member of our congregation, who was 100. Glad I saw her last week.

Oliver entirely without picnic in the living room

Happier times earlier in the past week, when David and the children came up to see us on Saturday and stayed overnight. The children came to church with us, and Oliver sat next to me and took it all in – or as much of it as he could. Not a tremendously child-friendly sermon, and he was the only child there, apart from Amy, who was upstairs with Dot. Afterwards we went to Prezzos for lunch. And the previous day we had a visit from Glenda and Peter, with whom we shared the train holiday in Switzerland two years ago. Lovely to see them again. Apparently not one of the four of us had changed a bit.

Later that day I went to a Paston trustees’ meeting at which it was decided – with some prompting from me and Jonathan – to demand an answer from the PCC and Trunch team about our potential lease of the church. They have spent huge amounts of time contradicting each other and dithering. We are now threatening to withdraw, which we hope will concentrate their minds.

Yesterday Dot and I went to the Assembly House for afternoon tea – a Christmas present bought for us by the Archers. Lovely food in a nice setting, though the service was a little slow and there was a great deal of rearranging the room while we were eating. Still, we really enjoyed it. I had previously visited our financial advisers to sign papers for a surrender of a policy which I thought I’d already surrendered, which means we will receive some unexpected money. Not a huge amount, but worth having.

Today we bought some paint and have spent time painting one of the walls in preparation for the new bookcase. Hope to finish tomorrow – in fact will have to, because I’ve just remembered we’re having people round for a meal tomorrow evening, a fact that had somehow got omitted from my diary, otherwise we probably wouldn’t have started on the painting. Ho hum. Wish I felt a bit more lively.

Someone in line for big fat bonus

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Dot, Julia and Dave taking a quiet moment by the canal: another picture from our weekend walk

Euro-cheque epic continues. Secretary at St Augustine’s Primary School rang to ask if I was Vicky Myers (no) and to say that they had been mysteriously sent a letter from Lloyds Bank concerning said cheque. The letter should have gone to Vicky, who is still nominally church treasurer and who admittedly does live in Costessey. Still… Whoever is organising the cashing of euro cheques should clearly get a big fat bonus. As for us, we have a new kettle. I was pleased to find how little it cost, but I suppose there’s not much to kettles really. This one is really basic, but it works.

I have at last written a poem, having been “dry” all through January. I think it’s quite good, but it required a lot of editing. I shall probably enter it for the Norwich Writers’ Circle competition, which I won last year. I know what they say about lightning, but it’s worth a shot.

Have been doing a lot of walking this week and have been lucky with the weather. Mileage has been roughly 2, 4, 4, 4, 2, but I’m not sure about today’s. I suspect the GPS malfunctioned for some reason: it suggested 3.5 miles, which can’t be right. Perhaps the fault occurred because I had Communion with Phyllis Todd (aged 100) at Doughty’s Hospital in the middle of it and forgot to turn it off. Nicholas was there (you can’t have Communion without a vicar, for some reason). Phyllis did not seem at all well, though apparently she was better than yesterday. Weather not so good today: light rain. But on Tuesday Dot and I walked a couple of miles in bright sunshine near Whitlingham Broad (after I’d walked a couple of miles to get there, having been dropped on the Lowestoft road while Dot made an abortive visit to Thurton School).

Last night we took Phil and Joy to a healing meeting led by Roy Todd at Open on Bank Plain and at the last moment decided to stay on instead of dropping them off. In fact, I brought the car home and walked back. Very loud and enthusiastic meeting, reflecting the sort of thing we used to go to back in the 1980s. Unless everyone was lying, which they weren’t, quite a large number of people were healed, including Joy, who lost the severe pain in her legs. I never feel at ease in this kind of meeting, but I don’t doubt its authenticity.

Went to the dentist yesterday and discovered I needed some filling repairs, which will cost a bit. Still, there is definitely something wrong, and it would be nice if there weren’t. Meanwhile my cousin’s son Bruce is becoming active on the Internet. I see he has become friends with Vicki Ellis, which is a pretty remote connection (father’s cousin’s wife’s cousin’s daughter). Where will it all lead?

Chopping up vegetables

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Julia and Dot tackle a steep section towards the end of last Saturday's walk in Lyme Park

All is well again. Van man with fan turned up again and fixed the boiler, which is now running smoothly, and I think whatever was wrong with me has probably gone away. It’s also a beautiful sunny winter’s day, and I intend to go out for a walk this afternoon in an attempt to get some weight off. Did a couple of miles on Sunday and nearly four yesterday. Admittedly, the kettle is broken, but you can’t have everything.

Had a really good lunch at the Ship Inn, Mundesley, on Saturday to celebrate Jo Berry’s birthday. She didn’t say which one, and it would be rude to guess. There were about 40 people there, including Jonathan and Lucy; Rob Knee and his wife Penny; and unexpectedly Richard Batson, chief reporter at Cromer, and his wife Angie. Excellent food, and some good conversation, but the weather was pretty dull: grey and spattering with cold rain, carried on an enthusiastic wind. Turns out Jo is local correspondent for the EDP/North Norfolk News. Her husband John is a steam train enthusiast.

Spent much of the previous day chopping up vegetables: Dot was providing the soup for church lunch on Sunday – it could have been easy, but she likes to choose interesting recipes, and an alternative. I have to say the result was excellent, despite a minor panic on the day, when the soup refused to warm up as quickly as one might have liked. One being Dot, in this case.

Won another chess game last night, making five in a row. This one was particularly lucky, as my opponent, Steve Crane, overlooked a very promising sequence that I had calculated the wrong way round. He then went on to lose on time, as usual. If there were no time limit, his playing strength would soar. Earlier I took some cheques to pay in, in my new role as church treasurer-elect: these included a €55 one from Ireland, which called forth a staggering amount of paperwork and a £5 fee. You might think that in this day and age there might be a smoother system for coping with euros.

Look East last night poured all their immense resources (very little) into covering the English Defence League march in Luton, which managed to shut the town down without doing anything much at all. To be more accurate, the police shut the town down. Newsman Stewart meanwhile did the usual appalling job of interviewing the EDL leader, generating about ten times as much heat as light and refusing to let him answer any questions without interruption. I’m sure this generates more sympathy for extreme groups than exposing them by letting them speak. I ended up wanting to kick Stewart, which poses some interesting questions about what exactly provokes violence.

Cold, cold, cold – and that’s just indoors

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Dot surveys a spectacular icefall in the Goyt Valley last weekend

Beginning to get a true appreciation of what it is like to feel cold. Our central heating has now been off for 48 hours, and as the fault is in the boiler, we have no hot water either. The engineer came at lunchtime yesterday and diagnosed a broken fan, but needless to say he did not “have one on the van” (man, van, no fan), so said he would return at 3.30pm today – about 15 minutes ago, in fact. No sign as yet, and no comforting phone call to say he’s on the way. We have had an open fire going in the lounge and, since this morning, a fan heater in my study, but nothing can disguise the fact that the house is, on average, very, very cold. I have five layers on, and Dot has gone to the shops. I would quite like to go out for a walk, because it’s a beautiful day (though cold), but I have to wait for the British Gas man with van and fan.

Yesterday, after the engineer’s visit, we went to the cinema to see Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 1, which was pretty good actually, and the cinema was warm. Not the sort of film I would want my grandchildren to see. They would be totally terrified, but I was only mildly frightened. Besides, it was warm. We locked ourselves in the lounge for the rest of the evening and watched TV. I know doing something physical would have made more sense, but somehow being cold puts you off doing anything constructive. I suppose it’s like wanting to lie down when you have hypothermia, though we have not quite reached that stage yet.

The heating failed before the Tuesday Group came round, but happily the house had not lost much heat by that time, and we were relatively comfortable. Just as well, because the group included George Myers, aged about six weeks, who had some unusual theological and prophetic insights but is a bit sensitive on environmental issues.

One good thing: I am now feeling quite a lot better and am hoping that whatever it was has gone away permanently, rather than slipped off for reinforcements. Dot still has some back pain and visiting the chiropractor twice a week. On Monday I managed another win at chess after trying an unusual gambit – knocking my opponent’s drink over while he was out of the room, and having to clear up the broken glass while he tried to concentrate on the game. Fortunately he is a nice bloke, and I stopped his clock for a while, so he wasn’t abusive when I won.