Monthly Archives: March 2012

Wind from the north ends warm spell

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View of the Wensum from the Jarrold Bridge while the sun was still warm.

Spots of rain on the window this morning, and now a decidedly cold wind from the north. Our early summer is apparently over. And we have a fuel crisis to go with the cold wind. Or should I say a “fuel crisis”, because it’s entirely created by a stupid announcement from the government that it might be a good idea to stock up in case there was a tanker drivers’ strike. So of course the usual suspects queued at petrol stations to put in £2 worth while those who genuinely needed it for things like travelling were given unwanted deliveries of stress and frustration.

No, this is not the anger of a man with an empty tank, surrounded by closed petrol stations. As it happens, I’m not in dire need at the moment. But I do sometimes despair at how stupidity seems to thrive in this country, at every level.

Nor is a lack of fuel the reason Dot and I took another long bus ride this week – travelling to Cromer in the sun on Thursday for lunch at the Rocket Cafe and a visit to the town museum (travel and museum both free). We did venture briefly on to the beach, but despite the sun the first signs of returning chill were already evident, and although we succumbed to an ice cream, we had to find a warm spot out of the wind to eat it in. The journey was very easy and pleasant, and I suspect more bus trips may be in the offing. We have also renewed our railcards…

We resorted to the car last night, however, for the annual meeting of the Paston Heritage Society, held at the Ship Inn in Mundesley with chips and chippolatas, plus a talk from Dr Richard Hoggett and a few remarks from myself on the future events we have planned. A convivial and quite brief occasion: we were home by 9.15pm. Good to see all the supporters out, and Brigette and Ruth resplendent in something other than medieval dress.

On Tuesday we did a little bit to support Norwich Christian Resource Centre, which is at risk of closing. The Tuesday Group (or six of us) went up to one of their evening events instead of having our usual meal and heard a story of how one woman escaped from the genocide in Rwanda, and the unexpected forgiveness she subsequently felt. We bought her book (Miracle in Kingali), published by Anthony Gray, who had himself been held hostage in China. Strangely I had heard Robin Limmer speak about him quite often: I think he formerly worked for the EDP.

Trying to help CRC again by donating secondhand books, but Joy is coming round this afternoon to see if she wants any of them. Having quite a clearout: our friend Carrie has just collected my big old desk to give to a family of asylum seekers from Egypt, and she has also taken one or two other things, including a camp bed and some bookshelves. Dot has managed – with a little bit of help from me – to lay our old kitchen carpet in the garage and get things much clearer in there for when the grandchildren join us next week.

I was the only St Augustine’s representative at the PCC on Wednesday, which I suspect just about kept it legal, and I put forward a motion (passed unanimously) to enable us to obtain cash from a charity which has been lying dormant for years and use it to pay for hall repairs. Now I just await the minutes to carry it all through. I hope. Dot, incidentally, was at Hopton, helping on behalf of the diocese with shortlisting for a head’s post. She is keeping pretty busy, so I have tentatively arranged some time in Scotland in France, in addition to our Devon holiday later this year.

Number crunching

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No, I'm over here

As we move into summer (or at least BST), the air gets cooler, but the sunny skies remain. Friday and Saturday last week were quite warm – the sort of weather that tempts you outdoors, and so of course we were indoors most of the time, at an Enneagram workshop at St Luke’s. The ideas behind the enneagram are fascinating (click here), but the practice turned out to be a bit tricky because of the size of the group, which reached the 100 mark. A lot of time was spent on panels featuring the various personality types, and as there were eight out of nine that weren’t you, attention tended to flag. Some sections of the group resorted to setting up a new enneagram, which began 8 = irritating, 9 = boring, 1 = impossible. Of course this referred entirely to the panellists: I know some lovely 8s, 9s and 1s. Where were they? Obviously I can’t reveal my personality type, but it came between 4 and 7. Yes, you’re right: it was 5½. Which doesn’t exist. Ho, hum.

All very mathematical and probably not essential to life as we know it. Last week we had a bit of social interaction, starting at the Castle Museum on Tuesday. Because of a miscalculation, we arrived on time, but the lecture hall was still packed. Fascinating talk on Ovid and his effect on medieval painters, which is a lot more fun than it sounds. For one thing we saw some great pictures; and for another the speaker was a witch. Of course I didn’t know that till afterwards. She certainly spoke entertainingly and triumphed over a stutter that would have defeated a lesser person. An elf, for instance.

On Wednesday we entertained the Higbees, which is always good. They appear to have sold their place in Italy, which is frustrating for Dot, who never got to see it, but probably good for them, though they put a lot into the place and will undoubtedly miss it. On Friday it was the Eagles: as a bit of a challenge, Dot invited them on the evening of the Enneagram event so that she had plenty of time to prepare. Or not, as the case may be. Nevertheless we did a quick shop and it was all very nice. Another entertaining evening, which didn’t end till nearly 1am. Sue and Roger are off to Hong Kong now. We may not go very far, but we have friends who do.

In between these two social whirls Dot and I visited my aunt Josephine, who is still languishing in Cromwell House on Cecil Road, which she admits is very nice, but wants to be elsewhere – preferably at home, looking after herself. She doesn’t react well to being looked after. I ought to know what personality type that is, but I don’t. To be more precise, she would rather be in her own little place in Hethersett, because she admits the house she shared with people who are now dead (her father, Joyce, Frank) might be hard to live in. She is very entertaining and a lovely person, but I think it might be hard to take care of her.

Ethel is in Hethersett of course, and Marion Roberts Court might suit Josephine. One day last week (I don’t remember which) Dot went to see her and dropped me halfway there so that I could get some exercise. I walked 2½ miles and had a cup of tea. It was warm (the weather, that is: the tea was very hot). Ruth is in Hethersett too; so are Joe and Birgit. It’s very popular. I don’t know what number it is. Countries have numbers too, apparently. England is 6.

Titian, Ovid and the Shrew

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Dot and Tim on Stapleford HIll, just above the Hemlock Stone

Our Nottingham visit concluded (as it were) with a visit to the Theatre Royal to see an RSC version of The Taming of the Shrew which turned out to be both unnecessarily coarse and strangely compelling. This is a play that could never be written today, and despite my natural political incorrectness, I found myself recoiling at the treatment of women in it, much more than at the coarseness. Beautifully acted, though, and a good evening.

The next day found us on the road home, with the mist gradually lifting to reveal the promised blue sky. We stopped at Cambridge Services for a quick lunch at Costa Coffee, then again at Elveden to buy some food for the following day, when Audrey and Bent came for lunch. Astonishingly, it was four years since we’d seen them, and so there was much catching up to do. At table all afternoon, and when they left I travelled with them to Martineau Lane for guidance, then walked home. (I didn’t get any guidance.)

On Saturday Dot and I were at Framingham Earl High School for an informal evening concert in aid of a Malawi schools link, organised by Sue Eagle, who did some singing. A variety of differing acts of varying quality – some of them surprisingly good. On Sunday we spent far too much time watching Battleship Galactica, but Norwich had lost 1-0 to Newcastle, so we had to do something to distract ourselves. On the plus side, Jensen Button won the first F1 grand prix of the season.

Yesterday Dot did some DSSO stuff and ended up at North Walsham with some belated mother’s day flowers for the cemetery. I was in Norwich paying in some church money when it occurred to me that I could get a bus out to North Walsham for free, so I did – meeting Dot at Jessie’s for a cup of tea. Quite a quick journey in lovely bright weather.

Today we went up to the Castle Museum to see Diana in action – sorry, that should read Diana & Acteon (ho, ho), a painting by Titian which is being lent to the museum for a couple of weeks. Also an hour-long talk by an expert on Ovid’s influence on medieval painters: impressive. The picture itself was pretty good, though I have to say I think Diana’s head is too small. Perhaps she was famous for having a small head, though you would expect a goddess to sort that kind of thing out. Otherwise, a magnificent piece of work. No doubt Titian, were he alive, would be gratified to hear me say so.

The Lawrence experience

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Julia, Dave and Dot view the Hemlock Stone on Stapleford Hill

Just back from Eastwood, a few miles from Nottingham and the birthplace of D H Lawrence. It’s been a misty day, quite cool, and at 4.15pm the sun is only just breaking through. We visited the birthplace museum, where Janice gave us a thorough and interesting tour, and then the heritage centre, which was showing an exhibition of Lawrence’s first novel, The White Peacock. Interestingly at neither place was this novel on sale, which is not the greatest marketing achievement I have ever come across.

In passing, I should note that Eastwood is also quite close to Mansfield, early home of my paternal grandparents and birthplace of the eldest three of my uncles. Why they ended up there is a bit of a mystery.

This is the third day of our visit to Toton. Julia is seeming a lot better, although her ankle still looks rather forbidding, and she manages to get around very well. Yesterday she spent some time shopping in the Westfield Centre at Derby with Dot, while Dave and I walked across town to the Silk Mill – the first factory anywhere, apparently, and now hosting a photographic exhibition and a number of aero engines, about which Dave was able to enlighten me. We had sandwiches in a nearby pub and then met up with Dot and Julia again in M&S, to discover Dot had bought me a shirt and two trousers. That’s good, obviously. I was able to wear the shirt and one pair of trousers to a meal at Creme in Stapleford with Alan and Rosemary the same evening: amazingly we had run into them at Westfield (Thorntons cafe) earlier in the day. Just a coincidence – the (excellent) evening meal had already been arranged.

We got to Toton for lunch on Monday after a straightforward journey. In the afternoon we walked to the Hemlock Stone on Stapleford Hill, which I found quite haunting.

One or two other highlights from the past few days. On Friday Dot and I went up to Mousehold to play pitch and putt, only to find that the course was not yet open. The weather was very pleasant, so we went for a three-mile walk on the heath instead. Then I went to the doctor’s to have my blood pressure checked and found that it had improved markedly. Of course I still need to take the tablets, and will have it checked again in a couple of months.

On Saturday evening we went to the annual celebration of Norwich Youth for Christ, which was unexpectedly enjoyable. It was at Eaton Church, and Heather and Paul Cracknell were there. Mark Tuma’s final event for NYFC, and one of Dot’s final appearances as a trustee.

On Sunday I preached (not terribly well, I suspect) on the Ten Commandments and then we took Joy and Phil for the latter’s birthday lunch at Joe’s. We supplied pavlova and wine, plus transport, and the fun lingered on until dark. Phil is 60, and we had a good look at his new bike as well as a tour of Joe and Birgit’s new house.

TV breakthrough and owl at Paston

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Owl of anguish: beautiful bird that was a big hit at the Paston weekend

Seem to have spent the first three days of the week dealing with money, one way or another. Partly our own (lots of outgoing at this time of year) but mainly the church. Don’t know why everything seems to be happening at once there, but think I may have caught up with it at last. I have just filled in Gift Aid claim forms to be sent off tomorrow. The weather recently has been pretty awful, with high winds and huge amounts of rain, and I’ve been feeling below par: my entire head seems to be silting up. Still, not bad enough to actually stop me.

The big Paston weekend was an unqualified success, despite appalling weather on the Sunday. Richard Hoggett dug his hole, and the church received well over 150 visitors to see the re-enactors and an exhibition of maps and photographs which certainly impressed me. No idea where they all came from. There was an owl and a falcon too, and rather lovely refreshments from Ruth and Brigitte. What more could you ask for? TV coverage?

Well, we had that too. Shortly after my tardy arrival on the Sunday, following Communion and lunch at church, I was seized upon by a camera crew putting together a series for the BBC on local history: apparently it will be in eight parts and broadcast around May/June time. I was interviewed together with Lucy and Rob, and had to think up a “favourite Paston letter” on the spot. I think I was just about coherent. Dot arrived a bit later and was also involved, probably because of her photogenic qualities. She was asked to read out some excerpts from the letters. One or two others also took part, and no doubt it will all be edited out, but it was fun at the time.

Dot and I then called in to see Jessie before hastening onwards to a new evening Communion service at St Luke’s. This is a brainchild of Nicholas’s and involved drumming and much striking of the gong, but despite that it was pretty good. Nearly 50 people there (no small feat) and a good atmosphere. Had a chat with Annette Vergette of blessed memory and her friend the spiritual healer, plus the Barrells and Val Kibble. So busy chatting in fact that I didn’t get to the cup of tea. Oh, well.

Out again in the biting rain on Monday night to Dragon Hall for the official culmination of the King Street Community Voices project, to which I had contributed a few poems which seemed to have vanished. Well, they may have been there somewhere. I bumped into Suzi Heybourne and a much older colleague from the Magdalene Project, so the evening wasn’t entirely wasted. There was quite an interesting film and lots of old people – former inhabitants of the street.

Another voice from the past last night, in the middle of a depleted Tuesday Group meal. Pauline Oldroyd, a former Alpington friend, rang from Wales to say she knew my aunt, and was I aware of her situation?  I was, of course, but it was a surprise to discover that Pauline knew her so well (from the time she taught at City College). Had quite a long chat, in a nostalgic sort of way.

And today we had our hair cut.

Working up a head of steam

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Our Sudbury hotel bedroom (open window), with getaway boat

Paston is working up a head of steam leading to the Big Weekend atarting at 10.30 tomorrow. On Leap Day (Feb 29) I attended the last library session and was astonished to find 18 people attending – far more than the other three sessions put together. I didn’t hang around for long – just checked with Lucy that the quiz and survey I had put together for this weekend were OK.

Then yesterday evening it was out to Dayspring again for a trustees’ meeting with an additional member – Rebecca Matthews – who I believe is from the local tourist organisation and who might become a trustee. She certainly knows a lot about funding. We discussed forthcoming events for the year, which left me feeling rather exhausted. I need to get writing monologues, dialogues, songs and poems. Meanwhile we have to hope the weather tomorrow and Sunday is as good as it has been these last few days.

Yesterday I visited my aunt Josephine in her temporary abode at Cromwell Court on Cecil Road, and after taking her for a short walk we sat on a seat in the sun for a while. She’s keen to get home and independent again, though it will be difficult for her. The sudden loss of her friend Joyce means that she’ll be on her own for more or less the first time in her life. She’s a strong woman, though, and good to talk to.

Today I made my second visit to Sudbury in a week because my brother Phil wanted to pick up a bike he’s ordered online from Halfords. He doesn’t like driving on his own. Took us some time to find the shop, because it was wrongly marked on the map, but we eventually tracked it down. Not too bad a trip really, though I’m not feeling 100 per cent. Think I may have a slight infection. Again.