Monthly Archives: January 2012

Eating out with Jessie

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Only the year is different: Jessie celebrates last year at the Banningham Crown. This year same Jessie, same place, same pavlova.

Jessie is having her bathroom noisily rebuilt – to a plan by Roger – and so we took her out yesterday to lunch at the Gunton Arms (Elderton Grange reincarnated in more pubby but still upmarket mode). More accurately, as it turned out, she took us out for lunch, but as it was a snack and a drink, I decided to allow it. My smoked salmon pate and toast was delicious; Jessie had a venison sausage roll and Dot a smoked salmon and cream cheese bagel. All very good, with deer in the background and a touch of sun – which was a change from yesterday, when it hardly got light at all.

This was the second meal out with Jessie in less than week. As I mentioned last time, we went for an evening meal to the Banningham Crown last Saturday with Jessie, Roger and Liz, and that was excellent too. I had a game pie, followed by an impressive pavlova. If you had a league table of service standards, the Crown would be at the top: welcoming, efficient and very friendly throughout. Food is good too. Not entirely convinced that the garage has fixed my lights – in fact pretty sure it hasn’t, but I really can’t be bothered to go back. They will have to sort them out when they do the service in the middle of February.

After preaching on the wedding at Cana on Sunday I watched Senna, a film that David had got me for Apple TV. It was excellent: Senna himself came over very well, and the ending was particularly poignant, with an inevitability about it. Funny how all this background story totally passes you by at the time.

On Monday evening we went to a planning meeting at the vicarage. Nicholas has an idea about introducing a monthly Sunday evening service aimed at people who are turned off by “church”. It’s a communion service, but much simpler and with no hymns. Obviously. I managed to avoid getting too involved, although I’m in favour of it. I have enough to do at St Augustine’s at the moment – as well as organising the services, I’ve been dealing with the accounts this week, trying to get the to balance as near as I can. Hard to do it when the start point is so obscure.

Before seeing Jessie yesterday I had a visit from Rob: we had a discussion about various Paston futures. Lucy is in Papworth again with a worsening prognosis, and I’m not sure when she’ll emerge. I’ve spoken to her on the phone a couple of times, and she seems remarkably cheerful.

Local history difficult to pitch

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Dot by the Tower of London as daylight fails

At the end of a damp and gloomy week, there is a touch of sun in the sky. And there is some sense of achievement too, as I’ve finished and sent off the five poems to Ian Fosten. All I have to do now is turn up on Friday and say something about why I wrote them. “Because you asked me to” will not be an adequate answer. Dot has decided to come too, so I will have moral support. From there we will head north and stay the night at Toton by invitation, going on to Buxton the following day. I have also finished a sermon for Sunday, based fairly tightly on one I wrote exactly ten years ago.

On the subject of poems, Oliver sent me a brilliant one that he wrote at school. It’s about the moon, and called God’s eye, and has rhymes and similes and everything. Exceptionally good, IMHO, and he was sent to show it to the headmaster. Spoke to him and to Amy last night on the phone: Amy seemed to like the story I wrote for her and found it “very funny”. She thinks it’s my function to be funny, and she’s probably right. I must write her a really funny story.

Speaking of funny stories, I have just finished the current Booker prize winner, The Sense of an Ending, and it’s not funny at all. In fact it was rather disappointing, the plot depending on one character not revealing something that they had no real reason not to reveal and that was not too hard to guess anyway. I suppose it had some interest philosophically, but it belongs to a category that I find increasingly frustrating: well written but basically pessimistic and lacking in any trace of redemption. On a brighter note, I’ve now finished two of Kate Atkinson’s Brodie novels, which were unusual in combining good writing, murder and humour.

Going back in time – while Dot had a long lie-in, not knowing I’d left the house, I spent all of a chilly Tuesday morning in the garage showroom at Wrights, while a man did his best to disguise some scratches on the car caused by a vandal a few weeks ago, and another man tried to correct a problem with the direction of the lights. I think the latter was successful, but I haven’t really been able to try it out yet. Should find out this evening, when we eat at the Banningham Crown with Jessie and Roger.

I did go out to Mundesley library on Wednesday for a Paston-related Reading the Landscape session, during which Dr Richard Hoggett gave half a dozen of us some pointers on how to use computers to research local history. Difficult to pitch, you might think – and indeed one lady (out of an initial company of eight) left almost immediately after discovering it involved computers at a level beyond her expertise. Not sure what her expertise was. Rob had always intended to leave early, but another two also fell by the wayside after getting the direction they required. I could have left then too, but felt I should stay on as the only PHS representative, so I lingered. However, after 90 minutes I departed as well.

On Thursday Dot discovered she had a Nafpht meeting at Thurton, which interrupted our “day off” together. However it gave me a chance to finish off my poems. By way of compensation we went for lunch to Frankie & Benny’s, which seemed to be making an attempt on the Three Horseshoes slow service record until I complained, when the main course miraculously appeared. Staff were very apologetic, and the food, to be fair, was excellent. In the evening we went to the cinema to see The Iron Lady, which featured a tremendous performance by Meryl Streep as Mrs Thatcher but in the end I think got the balance slightly wrong: too much dementia and not enough time given to her earlier life. Still compelling, though.

Walking in uncharted territory

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A less than brilliant picture of Dot and Kristine crossing London Bridge in late afternoon

Surprisingly, I finished Amy’s story shortly after my last post: it all came to me in a flash, just before Tuesday Group. I posted it off the next day, together with the last Little story in booklet form. I’ve also managed to write nearly two poems for Ian Fosten, so things are looking up. However, I’ve not been feeling good for a while: intermittent bursts of feeling quite peculiar, involving head and stomach and chills. Have managed to keep going with paracetamol, and much of the time I’m OK. But it keeps coming back. Not for long, I hope.

Happily Dot’s dizziness has gone. We suspect that the doctor got rid of it when she did the famous manoeuvre early last week. When Dot returned on Friday, she did it again and found that the revealing eye-fluttering had gone and she was OK – just in time for a full weekend, that started with a meal at the Robinsons in their shiny new reconstructed house.

I see I have got all out of order here. Back to Wednesday, when we had our hair done and I went to the dentist for a filling, then headed straight to Jessie’s with Dot. Last of the mince pies – or so I thought. The following day we depended on the weather forecast and were rewarded. Despite a heavy grey sky and some rain we drove to Bodham, where we had a drink at the Red Hart before heading off across the fields to Baconsthorpe Castle on one of the Coast Partnership’s trial walks. The sky quickly cleared and became bright blue, which compensated for the chill in the air.

At the castle we managed to go wrong –  mainly because we’d been there before and didn’t read the directions very carefully. We reached the village by the wrong path and headed into uncharted territory – uncharted by us or the Coast Partnership, that is. We couldn’t make sense of the instructions, but relied on our sense of direction and found an alternative footpath that took us back to the castle, where it became apparent what had happened. Now on the right track, we proceeded wearily back to Bodham – 5-6 miles in all.

We spent the weekend with David and Kristine, arriving just before noon at Leyton after a smooth journey. Kristine produced a delicious Spanish crumble with chorizo sausages that would probably have been enough for the rest of the day; however, we went to Baharat Indian restaurant in the evening and had another large meal. In between, we took the tube to Bank, discovered the Northern Line was shut and spent some time walking in Bank station before we could find the way out on to the street. (Several other people were having the same problem – signs were hopeless.) Eventually we made it out and walked past Monument and across London Bridge before visiting a bookstore near David’s office.

Lovely area of London that we hadn’t visited before. We proceeded on to Tower Bridge and had tea/coffee in a busy place much frequented by David before heading for home by crossing Tower Bridge and catching the tube outside the Tower of London. Lovely day, and a beautiful, busy evening. Didn’t sleep all that well, however.

The next day we drove up to Spellbrook Three Horseshoes and experienced the slowest service anywhere in the world (possibly). Arriving just before 1pm, we met Phil, Jane, Lydia and Alistair, and then David, who had driven up from Caddington. It reached 2.30pm before our main course was served. We abandoned the potential dessert and drove to Phil Coomes’ house for Christmas cake and mince pie.

Today was Frank Mason’s funeral, and David had another long drive to arrive in good time to get to St Faith’s Crematorium with us. Nice service: afterwards most of the attendees joined Jessie and Roger at Elm Tree Farm for refreshments. Teresa was there, as were all the usual suspects. Afterwards we drove David back to ours for his return journey before joining Jessie and Liz at Roger’s for a chat and the odd drink. Later Liz left for another appointment (her daughter’s birthday celebration, I think), and the four of us ended up at Oaklands Hotel for a carvery. That wasn’t our intention, but the “proper” restaurant opened an hour later than its website promised. Nice rhubarb crumble to finish. Pretty tired now.

Sometimes the sacrifices work

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A rather bad picture of Amy having a larger-than-life experience in the Cathedral

Dot’s dizziness persists, and after trying fewer tablets with poor results, she made a late decision to go to the doctor’s this morning. By chance she got a woman doctor who was very thorough and knew exactly what was going on – apparently. Now Dot is going back on Thursday for the doctor to do a manoeuvre  with her neck which should shift some crystals that are causing the problem.

After this encouraging news we went up to the garage to get a quote on fixing some scratches on the car, apparently caused deliberately by some merry passer-by. We decided on the cheaper option, which will be accomplished next Tuesday. I’ve also booked the car in for a service, which will not be cheap.

Yesterday I met with Caroline and Rob at Fakenham to discuss forming a new PHS offshoot (us) to arrange arts-related events.  We’re concentrating on the COAST festival at the end of the year, but hope to fix up some lesser performances before that. Rob is drawing up a structure, but the performance will include readings, narrative, possibly monologues and hopefully yet-to-be-written songs. Quite exciting, and it might enable us to sell some of the recently published books.

After this I drove to Aylsham to return a book of vinyl samples, since we had decided to go with John Lewis on the grounds that it’s much more expensive. No, that can’t be right. It’s on the grounds that they’re very thorough and have a much wider range of possibilities. While I was out, a JL man came and measured the space with a tape measure. I mention this because it seems so low-tech. We had earlier (on Saturday) borrowed two vinyl samples in order to decide between them – this proved unexpectedly difficult, but we eventually made a choice. The man (another man) came to pick them up on his way home and, having seen the house, immediately plumped for the one we’d decided on. Needless to say, it was not the one that was on special offer.

My sermon on Sunday seemed to go down well, though I had a lot of trouble preparing it. Surprising how often that happens. In other news we attended the opening of Harriet’s brother’s shop last Friday, which was amazing in the sense that no effort at all had been made to make it look appealing. The shop front was just empty. One or two people were mooching around, and there was good wine and Sri Lankan food on offer (we bought some for the freezer), but although H’s brother Francis was charming, it was hard to see how it was all going to come together. Maybe it will become a cult food shop and go nationwide. And maybe not.

I’m making some progress with Amy’s story but am not entirely sure where it’s going. I have turned the last Little story into a booklet, ready to be posted to Oliver, but I’d like to finish Amy’s story first. Must try harder. Have made no progress at all on the five poems I have to write for Ian Fosten, and a couple of CDs have arrived from the King Street project that I’m supposed to listen to and be inspired by. Have read a Kate Atkinson book I was given for Christmas and started on the second. Not bad.

Last night I was called in as an emergency reserve for my chess team (I am having a chess sabbatical, but they were desperate), and while Dot was at a Norwich Youth for Christ meeting, resigning as a trustee, I managed a presentable win against Jim McAvoy featuring a rather nice sacrificial attack. Sometimes they work; sometimes they don’t. Here it is (for chess lovers):

1 c4 f5 2 g3 Nf6 3 Nf3 e6 4 Bg2 c6 5 0-0 d5 6 d3 Bd6 7 Nc3 0-0 8 e4 d4 9 Nxd4 Bxg3 10 hg Qxd4 11 Be3 Qd7 12 Bc5 Rd8 13 Qb3 b6 14 Be3 Ng4 15 Bg5 Re8 16 ef Qxd3 17 Be4 Qd7 18 fe Qxe6 19 Rae1 Qf7 20 Nb5!? Qh5 21 Bh4 g5 22 Nc7 gh 23 c5+ Kf8 24 Bg6(!) Qxg6 25 Rxe8+ Qxe8 26 Nxe8 Kxe8 27 Qg8+ 1-0

I don’t really have time for this

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Dot pauses by Shrieking Pits on the way to Hungry Hill, between Northrepps and Overtsrand

The old joke is that this doesn’t seem like a new year – it seems like one we’ve used before. But of course it is new, and everything in it is new, which I suppose is reassuring. Today is bright and still after severe storms, and I’ve just returned from the doctor, who told me my blood test results were A1 and my PSA level below 0.1, though I do have slightly high blood pressure. Well, who doesn’t?

Poor old Julia is in much worse condition, having broken and dislocated her ankle in a restaurant fall in Lapland before breakfast on New Year’s Eve. Very painful, and hard for everyone, with clinic visit, ankle manipulation and making sure she was fit enough to travel home the next day. She had an operation in hospital at Nottingham and will be in plaster for six weeks; it will be a year before she’s fully recovered. The word “fully” is flexible, since it covers a plate and screws in her ankle. We were due to be walking together in Derbyshire at the end of this month: that clearly won’t happen; we’ll have to wait and see whether we meet there or not. I suspect not.

Reverting to much more trivial matters, Dot and I used the Robinsons’ tickets to go to Carrow Road on New Year’s Eve and saw Norwich score in the last minute to draw 1-1 with Fulham. Not the best game ever, but much excitement at the death! Happily the weather was relatively mild at the time, but it’s been much colder and wilder since.

After Communion the next day we went out to see Jessie, who invited us to stay for high tea. This worked well, since we had been cancelled the second night in succession, with Anna suffering from migraine. Would have been awkward if we’d been committed to the Greens’ and offered tea by Jessie as well, with the table already set! Roger and his girlfriend Liz arrived later in the afternoon (we’d got there before 3pm) and we had a very pleasant time – Liz is in PR and publishing, and so we had much in common.

Our third evening booking in succession did survive: we met Heather, Simon and Sam in the Plough on St Benedict’s on Monday and later moved to the Clipper Indian restaurant for an excellent meal. Had a great time with them, as always.

Dot and I have decided to book ourselves a day a week together, and the first occurred on Wednesday, when we started off in Aylsham, looking at some vinyl flooring which may have been superseded by John Lewis (we’ll see), had lunch at the Old Tea Rooms in the town and then drove to Overstrand, where we tackled one of the walks the Coast Partnership had sent me for checking. It turned out to be one we’d done some years ago, but it was very enjoyable despite the cold weather: about four miles inland and then back to the coast. To complete a very full day, I went to a long meeting of the Paston trustees in the evening and was so late back that Dot had begun to worry about my safety – by this time the winds were very strong, and they continued strong through yesterday, which included the John Lewis visit.

In the midst of all this busyness – I still have to write a sermon, choose some hymns, turn my latest Little story into a book and write a new story for Amy, among other things – I have managed to write a poem. Unfortunately, it is not one of the five poems I have to write in response to pictures Ian sent me. I don’t really have time to write this blog. Oh dear, too late not to.