Monthly Archives: January 2013

Gentleman rose grower Peter Beales dies

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Peter Beales and his sister Rosie earlier on in his career

Another busy week, despite the snow restricting our movements. Now, at last, the white stuff has gone and been replaced by rainy but much warmer weather. Today is around 10C or more and Dot was “sweltered” on returning from a brief foray to buy a frame for a photo of Ethel (for her birthday later this week, when she is 89, and not 90, whatever she says).

It is a week, however, that will be remembered mainly for the death of Peter Beales, rose grower supreme, Dot’s cousin and all-round gentleman. He succumbed to pneumonia on Saturday afternoon (26 Jan), while Norwich City were going out of the F A Cup to non-League Luton Town. It is four months since his wife died. A sad loss, and a shattering blow to his children, Richard and Amanda.

We received the news from Amanda in the evening. Earlier we had been at Jessie’s after visiting the cemetery (Dot’s Mum’s birthday is also this week). While there we listened to the Norwich City debacle on radio. Later Dot was in deep telephonic conversation with Angela about how to break the news about Peter to Ethel, but in the event she took it without flinching. We visited her yesterday after a drop-in at the supermarket, and she was in good form.

Last Wednesday, with plenty of snow still on the ground, I met Elizabeth McDonald at the Cathedral Refectory to discuss her contribution to the Paston event at Dragon Hall in May. She’s doing a PhD on Books the Pastons Read,  and so will fit in well with the literary theme. Later I drove up to the doctor’s in Dot’s car (because she was using mine) and almost got it stuck outside the house, such is the unsuitability of rear-wheel drive to snowy conditions. Strangely when I returned it shot up the hill with no trouble.

I had had to pick up pills from the chemist as well as call in to the doctor’s to register myself for making online appointments – the latter prompted by my having to cancel Thursday’s appointment, when I accompanied Rob to the Norfolk Record Office in place of the injured Lucy.  But I leap ahead. Also on the Wednesday I went to a meeting of the King Street Cultural Quarter, with whom we’re collaborating slightly on Dragon Hall. Quite amusing to witness the same kind of meeting the PHS has, but without the need to get involved. They are in fact in a worse state following the sudden resignation of their chairman and the reluctance of anyone to take over.

The meeting at the NRO next day was far more civilised – although Dr John Alban, the curator with whom we have been dealing, is also stepping down (retiring) at the end of March. We managed to get a clearish picture of what we’re doing, and it all seems very promising. The result should be a three-month exhibition on the Pastons at NRO starting in mid-October, with some talks by prominent people in the Paston world. Rob gave me a lift, and afterwards we called in at the ABC Wharf in King Street to view the venue for a possible photo exhibition. I think it can best be described as esoteric: a massive warehouse-type  space overlooking the river. Impressive but very, very cold.

Caroline with her book and the singer

After  church on Sunday, where the improved weather attracted a single-figure congregation, Dot and I drove to Fakenham for the launch of Caroline Gilfillan’s new poetry book, Pepys. As you might guess, it is all about the famous diarist, and part of the launch consisted of Caroline, in period costume together with three friends, performing some of the poems, excerpts from the diaries and a couple of songs. On approaching the house we encountered Rob and Penny, with whom we enjoyed the afternoon. Fortuitous, as we knew no-one else except Caroline. Obviously we bought the book. And ate the food.

Big Day survives winter’s tail

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Jessie cuts the cake

The snow is still with us, though it has stopped falling from the sky for a while. Some intrepid guy has spread sand on Aspland Road up to halfway, so there is no problem reaching the top. In fact we have been able to reach the top right through the current cold spell – though admittedly we haven’t been out much in the car.

Yesterday we did, though – because it was the Big Day, Jessie’s 80th, and a gathering had been scheduled to take place at the Wayford Bridge Inn for lunch. There had been a lot of snow late on Sunday, and I was a bit worried about emerging in view of the whiteness of the road; I took it very, very slowly down and reached the bottom with no problem. After that it was plain sailing. We picked Jude up from her house on Riverside Road, and the main roads in the county were more or less clear.

In fact the roads were so clear that, much to Jessie’s delight (and ours), David made a last-minute decision to come from Caddington and arrived in time – before some people who had come from North Walsham! The only person who didn’t make it, I think, was a friend who couldn’t get out of her drive in Acle. The Wayford Bridge Inn was excellent: staff very attentive and a first-class meal. I had one of the best steaks I’ve had for a very long time.

Amazing

There were 14 of us – Jessie; Dot, David and myself; Janet and Ray with Judy and her husband from St Albans; Roger, Liz and Philip; Jude; and George and Fiona. Afterwards David returned to Caddington and arrived in time for his swimming lesson in the evening. The rest of us went back to Jessie’s for the amazing cake that was our present to her – baked, of course, by the equally amazing Marion Sturgeon from Alburgh.

We headed for home just before 6pm, as it started to snow slightly. No real problems getting back. After we dropped Jude I was about to turn into Aspland Road when I noticed a car doing a three-point turn (!!) so continued right up Prince of Wales Road and turned round to approach from the other – and preferable – direction. This time a car was stuck two thirds of the way up; so I reversed to the bottom, and when he had finished slithering around and being pushed to the side of the road, I took a run at it and made the top easily.

Since last Thursday we had two lots of visitors who were not deterred by the weather: on Thursday the Kibbles and on Saturday the Robinsons, who decided to park outside the sorting office and walk through. Not necessarily a good idea: Philip fell over while pushing a car that was sliding around while turning at the top and coming to rest in the gutter (the car, not Philip). He was OK, though, and we had a good evening: Dot cooked some delicious steak and ale.

On Sunday we emerged for church and had no real problems, arriving very early – but not before Geoff Saunders, who was leading the service. Eventually we had 17, which is pretty good and no different from a normal Sunday, though it was quite  treacherous underfoot. Afterwards Dot and I parked near Fye Bridge and walked up to Mandells Gallery for Martin Laurance’s private view. Brilliant exhibition as always; we almost bought a painting, but by the time we got round to it, someone else had bought it. Damn spot.

Spoke briefly to Martin and at greater length to his partner Val; then to Annette and Mike, and Rupert. Several familiar faces from the Norfolk art world. Martin is quite interested in collaborating on some poetry-and-art project, which would be great if it came off. Have spoken to several people about possible book projects recently, but nothing definite. Still, it’s good to have irons in the fire. The tanka collaboration continues.

Meanwhile, Lucy has managed to fall over in the snow and injure her shoulder, as if she didn’t have enough problems. She is in hospital at Cromer, and so Rob and I have to represent her at the Norfolk Record Office on Thursday, which means I shall have to cancel a doctor’s appointment. Annoying, when they are so hard to come by. At present I am trying to make up my mind whether to have a Tuesday Group meeting tonight. No snow is forecast for today, so it should be possible, but there is still a lot of snow up here, and if certain people fell over, we would never be able to get them up again.

 

Catching the start of a blizzard

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Narnia-like view at the top of the road. That witch again…

Woke up this morning to bright sunshine and a temperature of -11C. Between us we had three meetings today, all of which have been cancelled, largely because of the travel problems. It hasn’t snowed in Norwich today, but more is apparently on the way. We have had a fair wedge of it, but things were quiet as we set off for London on Saturday morning, and the roads were good.

Arrived at the Coomes’ residence in Leyton about 12.30 as scheduled and spent much of the hours before evening eating and drinking. Then we went out for a meal – our third visit to Baharat at Woodford, where we had a good Indian meal. On Sunday we went to Tate Britain for a noon start to see the Pre-Raphaelites. It was an excellent exhibition, though a bit crowded, possibly because it was the last day – though you had to book in advance. On the way out we saw Howard waiting to go in.

Afterwards we had a snack at Pimlico Village, an unpretentious cafe, before making our way home by Tube. It was very cold out. We had a meal in and stayed the night, so that Dot could do Philosophy at a nearby school the next day.

David and Kristine left by 7am, but we woke much later to find a smattering of snow on the ground. Because of a very bad forecast, I was uncertain what to do, but eventually I left shortly after 1pm and took the M11 – a good decision, because although it was snowing all the way up, it wasn’t lying on the ground, and I made good progress. After Newmarket the snow stopped and the roads were dry. I arrived in Norwich not long after 3pm and went to Morrisons for a bit of shopping and some petrol.

Meanwhile Barbara had arrived to pick up Dot, and their session at the school went very well. They too decided on the M11 and had an even better experience than me, stopping at the Services for something to eat while I had steak at home. I was intending to meet them at Scole, but by this time it had been snowing hard in Norwich for some while. Nevertheless I set out mid-evening for Scole, but the roads were treacherous, and it was snowing so hard it was difficult to see the edges of the road. So after making it on to the southern bypass and the A140 roundabout, I decided to turn back. Right decision, I think.

Dot and Barbara saw no snow until they reached Scole, but it then started and there was quite a lot on the road, so the last section to Metfield was the hardest. Dot stayed the night, of course. I was going to pick her up the next day, which dawned bright and cold, but it transpired that Barbara was coming in to Norwich for a course at Wensum Lodge; so Dot came with her. Unfortunately they were just late enough to catch the start of a huge blizzard. I waited for them at Morrisons, but because they had been held up Barbara drove straight to Wensum Lodge, so I drove there, transferring Dot’s stuff to our car before driving home.

That was the tricky bit. The roads were covered with snow, and it was coming down very hard indeed. II followed a guy who was all over the place, but we eventually made it to the bottom of our road. As I turned in I saw a van parked in the middle of the road, but I plugged on, and happily he pulled into the side as I approached, and surprisingly we just reached our driveway. After all that, we spent the rest of the day slumped on the sofa catching up on TV programmes we had missed.

Today we did venture out, walking to Morrisons to pick up a few items. We almost went by car, but just as we were scraping it, an ambulance decided to park at the bottom, blocking the main bit of road. Apparently if you’re an emergency vehicle you can do that, even if you don’t need to. Anyway, it worked out all right, despite the slipperiness of the pavements. Since we got back Dot has been cleaning the house and I’ve been catching up on e-mails, tanka-writing and blogging, among other things. Time passes quickly when it’s cold and white outside.

Walking in the city

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Dot and Barbara discuss the next Philosophy4Children session

Another longish walk today, as the air gradually gets colder and the weather people warn us of a weekend of snow and ice. Dot really wanted to walk on the beach, but was dissuaded by tales of bitter winds retailed by her aunt Jess who, at North Walsham, is more than halfway there. To the coast, I mean.

So instead we walked into the city, had lunch at the Forget-me-Not Cafe (pâté and toast) and then proceeded to the bank to pay in a cheque, then on to St John Maddermarket, where we happend to meet Kevin Maddams driving a van – a coincidence made sharper by the fact that I had a cheque for him from St Augustine’s (for a Developing Consciousness ad in his magazine, Outline).

After a spot of reminiscing Dot and I proceeded up the hill to Pottergate and on thence by an unusual but interesting route to The Avenues, where I put a cheque for St Luke’s through Nik Vitkovitch’s door. By this time Dot was showing signs of tiredness, so we made for Unthank Road, and a bus home. About four miles’ walking in all.

For those worrying about my eye (see last post) I can reveal that the sore has miraculously vanished, or dropped off, as we light sleepers tend to put it. Meanwhile Dot is in the midst of Philosophy work. Last Sunday she and Barbara drove to Dudley, stayed the night and then put on a session for a local primary school, from which the feedback was uniformly brilliant. They got back to Norwich at around 7pm on Monday, and by tracking them I had managed to cook them a meal which was almost on time.

Barbara stayed the night, and the next day they were off again, this time to Thurton (a bit nearer home) for one of a series of sessions there. Our weekend with the Coomes will extend to Monday because they are meeting in North London to do another session at a school in Leyton. I will probably leave for Norwich earlier in the day and then pick Dot up from Metfield in the evening, snow permitting.

I have been slightly less mobile, managing only a trip to Paston to look at Pater Stibbons’ new (supplementary) Paston website and learn how to work it. Lucy took notes which she was going to send me but hasn’t yet, perhaps mainly because she has been to Papworth today for a technical medical problem. Instead her daughter Naomi has been in touch, asking if we know anyone who could accommodate a friend at UEA. I passed it on to Nicholas to announce at church on Sunday.

At a smaller-than-usual Tuesday Group I assayed toad in the hole, which was very well received. I quite liked it myself. Meanwhile I have written to Maureen Basford, keeper of the Harlestone burial records, giving her more details of the Archer family. She seemed interested. I must get back into looking at my family history and sorting out what I’ve discovered, which I believe is quite a lot more than I remember.

I should also mention that I have now responded to all the Christmas messages I can find, be they small remarks on cards or parts of much longer and more detailed epistles (with pictures, in some cases). I am also participating with Joy McCall in a tanka series, which is not so full of liquid as you might imagine.

Kingsize duvet and epiphanies

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Maryta, Amy and the Henderson dog

Yes, we made it into a new year. Oliver and Amy survived well, right up to midnight, with the help of various games and quizzes. I felt surprisingly coherent the next morning, and we were all up and about when Paul and Maryta Henderson arrived not long after 11am, staying for a light lunch of salmon and new potatoes before heading to darkest Suffolk and leaving Paul’s glasses behind.

David and the children left at about the same time, heading in their case for the M1, where Vicky was meeting them to transfer the children and take  them to Nottingham. We tracked David’s car on a convenient App. The house seemed very quiet when we had cleared up.

During the next two days we were recovering, and in my case working on the church accounts and returning Paul’s glasses to him, which prompted a phone call from him praising our grandchildren, which is only right; eventually the weather changed, becoming dry. I was developing a rather sore growth on my eye – or to be more accurate, the small growth on my eye had become sore, probably because I had damaged it while rubbing my eyes.

On Friday I went to the dentist and got a clean bill of health as far as my teeth were concerned. I then popped in to John Lewis’s, where Dot and Anne were having tea and scones. Dot and I then ordered a kingsize duvet because she hasn’t been sleeping too well and suspects duvet slippage. This of course also involved new pillowslips and duvet cover. These we took away with us, but the duvet cover had to be ordered online and delivered to the shop. We ordered it online at home and picked it up yesterday afternoon before going for a healthy walk around Whitlingham Broad. One way or another, Dot was determined to get a good night’s sleep – and did.

Between the scones and the duvet on Friday Dot and I ran into Rita, of Al and Rita fame, who we hadn’t seen for years. Unsurprisingly, they have just been converting a barn, but it will probably be their last one. She was in fine form.

Today I preached again at church – this time on epiphany and epiphanies – with Liz Day leading. All went well until Judy noticed that the collection box was missing. We could only assume that a man who had been loitering in the doorway had snatched it while we were praying. Nicholas wanted me to tell the police, but instead I put a notice on Streetlife (a local online site) and warned Carrie that there might be a thief about.

Dot and Barbara left for Dudley just before 3.30pm, and as I write are in the Birmingham area. I walked up to the church to make a thorough search, but without success. I then called in to see Phil and Joy and return Joy’s glove, which we found in our car. (We had found the other one a couple of weeks ago, but this one suddenly materialised.) I used Walkmeter to measure my walk, and the other App to track Dot and Barbara. Isn’t technology wonderful? Until someone starts tracking me, of course.

The sore growth on my eye seemed to crack in the night and spill blood. It’s much better now. Don’t read that last bit if you’re squeamish, like Dot.