The sigmoidoscopy went well, apart from the hanging about. I was offered the choice of sedation or gas and air and selected the latter with some trepidation. It had served me well when I was in a lot of pain before my emergency operation. As it happened, though, I didn’t need it. The procedure, by a woman doctor, went without any pain, though some discomfort. My nurse, Katie, was lovely – very friendly, relaxed and very good at distracting me with questions about what I did in my spare time. I had a mug of black tea and some bourbons afterwards, and felt fine.
I have to admit the preparations were not something I’d want to do every day. It seemed to go all right, and I was just near enough the loo. There wasn’t the anxiety about getting to the hospital without wanting to go again, though I was nervous. Dot said I looked terrible, but that’s probably normal.
Afterwards we were both very tired and watched quite a bit of TV before going to bed relatively early. Today I went for a walk of just over two miles as well as writing up the PHS minutes, writing several letters and e-mails and selecting pictures for a book on Scotland. And so ends November. We are waiting for the Robinsons, with whom we are having a meal at Prezzo.
Oh, I should have mentioned, the sigmoidoscopy showed nothing abnormal. Apparently I need to drink more water, though.
Here I am waiting to have a sigmoidoscopy. It doesn’t happen till early this afternoon, but already my stomach is churning (actually it’s being doing it for days). Not sure if it’s foreboding or an actual stomach upset. The operation is minor, of course, but it’s the bit before and after I’m not keen on. I’ll keep you posted if I survive.
Dot is out visiting a school but will be back to accompany me to the hospital, in case I need sedation, which I am much in favour of. I am totally against unnecessary pain, and I’m not all that much in favour of necessary pain.
Happily our heating is back on. The boiler fan broke on Tuesday, leaving us with an electrically powered group meal in the evening. Quite cosy in fact, but the rest of the house was decidedly chilly. The gas man turned up the next day at 10am, at precisely the same time as our hairdresser, who had been rescheduled from Monday. He took some time to work out the problem, but then happily was able to fix it.
Meanwhile Dot was rather nervously having her hair cut short: it looks good. Mine is pretty short too, but it pales into insignificance beside Dot’s. Hair and boiler were both sorted in time for Dot and I to drive to the NRO to hear Anna’s “Paston Treasure” talk, which as very good. Judy was also there and so, surprisingly, was Lucy, rising from her sickbed and driven by Diana.
In the evening, while Dot was at orchestra, I walked up to the Maddermarket and got a ticket to see The Seagull, in which two of my former colleagues at ECN were performing. The theatre was sparsely populated, but the acting was good, though I think the guy who shot himself at the end (spoiler alert) should have done it much earlier. Trevor Burton was excellent, as was David Newham. The older woman/famous actress didn’t help the plot by being clearly more attractive than the young Nina who was supposed to be luring Trevor away from her.
I nearly missed the opportunity of seeing the play because I was unexpectedly asked to play chess for the A team in the evening, but this proved to be a false alarm: one of the regular players recovered from a bad back and beat the Norfolk champion. So that was all good.
Yesterday I called on the parish treasurer, Susannah, who lives in a house overlooking Carey’s Meadow in Thorpe. A totally stunning view. We had a conversation about splitting the parish share, which we agreed should be 70-30. I have no idea whether this is right or not. I suspect not. (Definitely not. – Ed. mf)
Later, while Dot was shopping after lunch with Sue Eagle and friends, I drove to Paston for a meeting of the trustees. A painfully slow process – and that was just getting there. The meeting itself was OK, though I was surprised to hear that Lucy was disputing the bill from the UEA, although she’d told me she was paying it. I am having nothing more to do with it.
Dot, Julia and Dave getting properly shod in Trowse for our walk to Whitlingham
A very full week, starting last Tuesday with another visit to the Norfolk Record Office to hear the latest talk, The Fall of the House of Paston: a fine title and a brilliant lecture to a standing-room-only audience. I bought the book by the speaker (Jean Agnew) and walked home with Rob Knee.
Dave and Julia arrived around lunchtime the next day, and in the afternoon we took them to the Masterpieces exhibition, where Dot and I saw the bits we missed at the weekend, including the Rennie Mackintosh pictures and the Lotus F1 car in the restaurant. We got the X25 bus home (express route via Newmarket Road), and Dot cooked a brace of rather nice pheasant in the evening.
Our compulsory walk the following day was in two parts, because the cafe at Whitlingham Broad was helpfully closed. So after walking there from Trowse via Whitlingham Hall we walked back to Trowse along the road and had garlic bread and tea in the River Garden Cafe. We then drove back to the closed cafe and walked round the Broad, pausing only to shelter from a shower.
Later we walked up to the city to look at the Christmas stalls and witness the Christmas lights turn-on, all of which was OK, but not as spectacular as one might have expected. We returned home and had supper at Prezzo – as usual a very good meal with excellent service. Free bottle of Prosecco for the birthday girl. According to my app, I had walked a record 8.6 miles that day.
The peripatetic Evetts set off for Salisbury at about 11 on Friday, which was Dot’s actual birthday. I gave her a new violin case, a book and tickets for the ballet next February! Well, you have to book in advance. In the evening, although Dot was feeling a little under the weather, we drove to Metfield for a performance of the Fitzrovia Radio Hour, which I have to say was brilliant: a supposed radio performance in which we were the studio audience. The sound effects were the highlight, but the actors were brilliant in every respect. If you get the chance, go for it.
On Saturday yet another highlight: we drove to Caddington, arriving at almost the precise time that Elliott James Lenton was born in Southampton. Blissfully ignorant of this, we had a great time with the Coomes family – adults in the kitchen and children all on gadgets in the living room, playing a joint game, I believe. Excellent buffet food from David. After the Coomes left I got involved in a football game on the landing with Oliver, David and Amy (in goal), from which I miraculously emerged with no broken bones. Reminded me of The Christian, only more violent.
Also played a game of Mastermind with the children, in which you have to work out the position of four coloured pegs in a row. Oliver is very good at this, but I did manage to work one sequence out. I believe we played a version of this when David was young, or even earlier. Also played chess with Oliver. Like his father, he has the potential.
Meanwhile Magnus Carlsen was winning the world championship in India by defeating Viswanathan Anand without losing a game. Quite a feat.
We left quite late and as a result had a clear run home. The next day Dot was shattered and had mouth ulcers, so stayed in bed while I went to Communion. We spent most of the rest of the day watching television, which is never good. The weather has been cold, with quite a lot of rain.
The Coomes arrived a little late on Saturday, which unexpectedly put us on a tight schedule for the rest of the day. After a light lunch we caught a bus to the UEA. This took longer than usual because it was late, and therefore there was a queue at every bus stop. Nevertheless we did make it to the Sainsbury Centre, which was surprisingly open. We viewed most of the Masterpieces exhibition, which turned out to be very good, including a Turner, a couple of Colin Selfs and other good things. Consulting the programme afterwards, however, I discovered we had missed three Rennie Mackintoshes. We shall have to go back.
Happily on leaving we caught the bus back just right and did the journey in about half the time of the outward leg. This was just as well, as we had only a quarter of an hour to change for the evening meal at St Benedict’s Restaurant. We went by taxi, which unhelpfully arrived early. The meal, however, was excellent, as was the service.
As usual when I have an excellent meal, i had a bad night afterwards, but with the help of a few pills I was OK by the time we left for church, where Liz joined us in the music group and Howard was preaching (not at the same time). I managed to have quite a long chat with Anna about the UEA fiasco, and it seems to be sorting itself out. I keep getting e-mails from the UEA advertising their internship service, and I have so far restrained myself from replying with the immortal phrase, You Must Be Joking.
In true afternoon we went for a short walk, but it started raining: the kind of light, insistent, drizzly rain that soaks into you and has no compensating element to it. So we returned home, and Kristine tried to teach Dot how to make use of Linked In for her business. However, for some reason Linked In shut Dot out of her account, and while trying to help I mistakenly sent invitations to most of my address book. Most of them appear to have ignored it, happily.
The Coomes left at around 5pm, and we watched TV till Dot’s cousin Roger arrived around 8pm with her present from Jessie. He revealed that Ray, who has been on the brink of death for a long time, had finally succumbed. And so time marches on.
Today is not much more inspiring than yesterday, though I worked in a short walk while posting Bridget’s birthday card. We had met her (and her mum) in Pottergate while walking home from St Benedict’s Restaurant on Saturday. Small town. Earlier today Barbara and mutt came round to meet the accountant. This was followed by a FaceTime session with a representative of Sapere, who want them to do some Philosophy training work, though without paying all that much.
Meanwhile the new neighbour has moved in, replacing Anton and Ailsa. He has been very quiet so far. Which is good, obviously.
We are all ready for the Coomes, who are undoubtedly held up somewhere between Leytonstone and Riverside. It is a sad and damp day, and I have already driven up to the chemist to collect my prescription: one item to protect my upper respiratory tract, one to keep my blood pressure down and one to prevent acid reflux. Isn’t the pharmaceutical industry marvellous?
But I am not yet on my last legs. Yesterday I walked over six miles, which my app tells me is an all-time record. Little does it know: it has not been around long. I walked to Morrisons, and then into the city. Then, later from the car valeting place on Aylsham Road to Constitution Hill, where I dropped off a CD for my prospective publisher. I was picked up by Dot in my valeted car, and later walked to Morrisons again to pick up a few last-minute groceries. Quite a bit of housework too. Very tired at the end of the day, but for some reason I slept very badly.
I have bought Dot’s birthday presents, but I cannot reveal what they are in case she reads this. Not likely, admittedly, but still…
Claire Carrington came round on Thursday to discuss a project involving inviting everyone in church round for a meal and chat. I say everyone – the idea is probably three at a time, and not just us hosting. Not sure if this will work, but we had a good talk anyway, and divided the church up into possible groups of invitees.
Dot was out a lot this week, so I was able to catch up with various things, and I think I have more or less completed the plan for this year’s Alternative Carol Service. It consists largely of debunking Christmas myths and reading poems. I have written four new ones for it. Mostly though it will be carols and readings, plus a Communion. We don’t want to alarm the Bishop and anyway, that’s what we like.
The problem with the Paston Heritage Society’s UEA intern seems to be over, but not before I refused to have anything more to do with it. Lucy now says she will pay the bill. I haven’t heard from Anna.
I am now backed up. I have an external hard drive . If only that were true: in fact it is the computer that is backed up, now being linked to Time Machine, as it was designed to be. I myself am struggling along with the same old operating system that is showing signs of wear and tear. And I can’t get back to what I used to do.
I can’t even see very well, because I have new varifocal glasses that are designed to be clear in three different ways, but are in fact unclear in at least three, probably more. This morning I had to put my old reading glasses on to read the paper.
Oh, well. I’ve managed to walk about four miles today – mainly to the Norfolk Record Office to hear a talk by Elizabeth McDonald on “Books the Pastons Read”. Similar to the one she did at Dragon Hall, but not the same. Quite interesting, as Stephen Fry might say.
Last night we had a mammoth PCC meeting to discuss the increase in the parish share and how we were going to meet it. One of those dreadful meetings where you wish you were somewhere else. If church is about raising money, I’m not interested. I have a meeting scheduled with the new treasurer for the parish, one Susannah McGuire. I was relieved to find that she probably knows less about church accounting than I do. Sadly, that is not much. I warmed to her.
Earlier, before I got my non-focal glasses, I had a visit from Adrian Bell, the potential publisher of our tanka book. He seemed reasonably impressed. It’s just about done; I’m now waiting to hear from him what other information he needs to go in it, such as price, and whether it should have a spine – which is about as ironic as you can get.
After the piano tuner left (see last post) I went out to Rockland to see Geoff. The weather was pretty cold, but dry, and he was keen to walk in the garden. So we did it. A little unsteady, but in the circumstances remarkable. He had his carer, Lisa, with him, and she was lovely – made tea and provided (Sophie’s) fruit cake.
Next day (Friday) I went out to see Lucy, who continues to recover slowly from her cracked ribs. She has a personal assistant (carer) called Priscilla, who is also lovely. The two of us tried to put up a washing line in the garden: she was much better at it than me. She is also gradually organising the house, which will be interesting. Meanwhile the kitten and the rabbit have a peculiar relationship: the kitten puts its paw through the bars of the rabbit cage and touches the rabbit, which ignores it. Doesn’t try to get out of the way – just ignores it.
Which is what I wish I’d done with the idea to employ a UEA intern for the Paston Heritage Society. This has now reached a ridiculous stage, with the lad doing very little work but clocking up huge numbers of hours. We received a bill from the UEA which Lucy is refusing to pay. Anna is very worried. I am now retiring from the conflict and letting them get on with it, which is a pity, as they’re both friends. At the moment.
On Saturday it was still cold , but Dot and I had tickets for Norwich v West Ham. In fact we had three tickets, so we invited Phil, who called round by chance the previous afternoon. City played very badly in the first half, so at half time I predicted we would win 3-1. Amazingly, we did. I am now regarded as a prophet. I am without honour in my own country, of course.
Norwich City eventually lost 7-0, but we don’t need to dwell on that. After all, Manchester City put five past a Champions League team a few days later. Just hope we do a bit better against West Ham on Saturday – Dot and I have tickets.
The weather has been a bit mixed, and we’ve reached that stage in the autumn when the ground never seems to get dry. The last two days have been wet and lethargic, but today looks brighter. I hope to go and see Geoff this afternoon, but at the moment I’m waiting for the piano tuner and his football commentary. Dot is on her way to a school at Bradwell after Mary next door came round for a few signatures. She is applying for a new job. Ex-head teachers rank way above ex-journalists and poets on the respectability scale.
Rather disappointingly, I failed to register in the winners’ list at the Seagull poetry competition, but Rob Knee was joint first (and had another commended). He and Penny were at the NRO yesterday for a talk by Anthony Smith on how Fastolf got on in 1450 (I paraphrase). A dense but interesting 50 minutes, especially after they got the microphone working. I wrote a piece for my website based on it.
Penny’s mother has just died, and I was able to commiserate. This meant, however, that I missed chatting with Judy, who was also there.
Because of the damp weather I drove to the NRO, thus failing at the second fence in my bid to walk to all of the talks. The tanka book is now finished, and I have only to establish some sort of meaningful dialogue with the publisher. However, Joy is in a bad state again. We need to get it published for her.
Still in the middle of “discussions” with UEA over the PHS intern who claims to have done over 80 hours’ work but has produced very little. Mistakes on all sides, I think. He should have been much more closely monitored.
Dropped in at the Forum on Monday to look at a display of Holocaust poetry that featured a translation by Kristine – oddly, from English into German. Adjacent to the small exhibition was a circular table, around which a number of earnest middle-aged academic-looking people were holding a discussion group. Each had a pot of tea. I wrote a poem about it called The Holocaust Discussion Group.
In the evening we had a meal at Prezzo with Angela and Rodney, followed by coffee at home. The meal was courtesy of Auntie Ethel, whose house is now cleared out and all-but forgotten. She herself seems physically well and enjoying the home.
I have now booked the hotel for Florida and the seating for all the flights. But I haven’t managed to persuade Coventry City Council to tell me how much they’re paying towards Andrew’s accommodation. It will be nice when that’s sorted.
On Tuesday we had nine for our regular Group, and we celebrated November 5th with sparklers in the garden afterwards. The piano tuner seems to be getting on well.
I am writing this while listening to Norwich City getting hammered by Manchester City: 4-0 down after about half an hour and apparently unable to get the ball in their possession at all. Bit worried about Dot’s mental state.
Earlier in the week things went rather better for her. On Tuesday she went to an orchestra party and had a great time playing some tunes by sight. Meanwhile I was cooking for seven. I say cooking: it was soup from a container, but it went Ok, with the help of a pineapple from Judy and an upside-down apple cake from Bridget.
On Wednesday we had our hair cut, just in time for me to walk to the Norfolk Record Office to hear Dr John Alban speak on the Fastolf letter. Very good stuff. Saw Judy and her friend there and said hello to a couple of NRO staff. Got back just as Dot’s accountant was preparing to leave.
On Thursday we were determined to have some time to ourselves; so after an eye test at Boots (varifocal glasses on order) we went to Presto for lunch then deposited some cheques in two banks before getting a bus to the UEA to see the Masterpieces exhibition at the Sainsbury Centre. However, strike action by university unions had led to the closure of the centre. Not sure what I’ve done to hurt the university unions, but then strikes rarely affect the people they’re supposed to. Instead, we went for a brief walk in the university grounds and over to the hospital before getting another bus home (from the university).
Yesterday turned out better than expected, so we drove to Cromer to have lunch at the Bella Vista restaurant – which did indeed have a beautiful view of the pier and seashore. The food was pretty good too. Before reaching the restaurant we ran into Rupert and Shirley in the car park, where we bought some flowers on the way back – after a walk along the front.
From Cromer we drove to North Walsham cemetery, catching a glimpse of Jessie on the way (Dot got out of the car and had quite a long chat). Got home in good time for tea and watched four episodes of Breathless on TV. After two good nights, I had a very bad one.
