Monthly Archives: October 2014

Turner, but not Burma

Uncategorized, , , , , , , ,
Poppies at the Tower of London: you can almost see them flowing out of the window.
Poppies at the Tower of London: you can almost see them flowing out of the window.

Quiet week last week, or maybe my memory’s gone. I see to recall attending a private view at the Theatre Royal for Martin Laurance and a couple of other artists (ML impressive as always), but the only person there I knew apart from Martin was Hilary Mellon. Dot was working hard at home: she has quite a lot on at the moment.

We were due to spend the weekend with the Coomes in London, but David was taken ill on the Thursday night with a bad bout of nocturnal epilepsy, which left him in a lot of pain. So instead we arranged to go down on the train for Saturday only and meet Kristine at Liverpool Street. The train was full and we eventually found ourselves sitting next to a very pleasant and interesting couple: the husband was an aerial photographer, and we learnt some intriguing things about CGI and created landscapes. He also showed us some pictures he’d taken from a helicopter of the 800,000 poppies at the Tower of London.

After meeting Kristine we took a tube to Victoria and eventually found a pub-restaurant she’d booked called The Phoenix, which was terrific, and took us although we were 15 minutes late. The food was first-class. We all had sea bass, and Dot and I shared some chips. Afterwards we tubed to Pimlico and walked to the Tate, arriving just before our allotted time of 3pm.

Not sure why galleries have to be so hot. After reaching the second room (of six) I had to go to the loo and take all my clothes off, but I did put my shirt back on again. Extensive show of late Turner paintings, and as I love Turner I could have stayed all day – but it was tiring, and we eventually repaired to the shop and then the cafe.

Kristine stayed on the tube while we changed for London Bridge, where we found it hard to find the river and ended up in the back streets of Bermondsey surrounded by massive construction works. But after inquiring of a construction guy we eventually hit the river by HMS Belfast, where we had a very expensive glass of wine (over £15 for two) on the upper deck of the cafe (not the ship). Still, no doubt we were paying for the view, which was superb.

Afterwards we proceeded to Tower Bridge and walked over it to the Tower of London and its poppies, which even in the dark of early evening were more than impressive. From there we intended to take the tube from Tower Hill to Liverpool Street, but the tube station  was closed, and a notice informed us it was a short walk – which, compared to the West Highland Way, it certainly is. I am used to walking between Liverpool Street and London Bridge, but wasn’t at all sure of myself here, and we had to ask a couple of people, both of whom were extremely helpful.

London seems to be covered by construction work at the moment. However, we made it in time for the 8.30pm train, which again was packed, and we dozed most of the way home.

Our unexpected availability on the Sunday meant we could not only go to church, but also re-insert an abandoned meal with the Greens and Barbara Vidion at our house, during which the visiting trio majored on Burma, where the Greens had just been, and which Barbara was due to travel to. Nothing that was said would have enticed me to visit Burma, but this is no doubt a deficiency on my part.

However, the feeling is shared by Julia Higbee, as was revealed when we visited her and Allan for lunch yesterday at Newton Flotman. Dot drove; so I was able to indulge more than usual, and we had a lovely meal and conversation. Autumn is drawing on, but the weather is good at the moment: crisp and mainly dry, with plenty of sun.

I should mention that on Monday I obtained £300 in dollars as a gift for Nicholas from St Augustine’s congregation. Dot and I delivered it to him in the afternoon, and he was effusively grateful. He is already looking American. While on the theme of travel, Dot and I have just committed to a week in the South of France with Fred and Sue next May, travelling from Luton airport. Fred is making all the arrangements; so I am quietly confident.

Here and there in Herts (and Beds and Bucks)

Uncategorized, , , , , , , , ,
Sunset from Dunstable Downs.
Sunset from Dunstable Downs.

Back in Norwich, with plenty of sleep to catch up on. Not Amy’s fault: she was a model child, and could probably have looked after herself if she could drive. It was the early mornings and the multiple journeys: I seem to have covered a good chunk of Hertfordshire, plus pieces of neighbouring counties.

Friday was an interesting day. The journey to school was smooth, with none of the problems of the previous day. Dot settled down to cleaning limescale off the shower, and I did a bit of reading. We picked up Amy at 4.15pm, and I saw Becky (Amelie’s mother) arrive and meet her parents, who appeared to be taking Amelie’s brother Sebastian somewhere while Becky waited for the girls. We decided to take Amy home and collect a change of clothes (as a precaution) before heading towards Felden, just the other side of Hemel Hempstead.

The M1 was fine, but the bits before and after were crowded, and we seemed to take an age getting through Hemel Hempstead with its famously weird (but efficient) roundabout. Amy was worried about being late, but in fact we arrived ten minutes before Becky and the other girls and chatted to Becky’s parents or sat quietly in the car, depending on who we were.

Not wanting to go back on to the M1 on  a Friday evening in rush hour, we reset the satnav for “shortest” instead of “fastest” and ruled out motorways. At first this backfired badly, as it kept returning us to where we started, but in the end it guided us through some side streets and on to the Leighton Buzzard road, when we arrived quickly and surprisingly at Water End, not far from Beechwood Park. Dot started on cooking the lasagne, and we decided it was best if I picked up Oliver from the Travellers’ Rest.

This went well, and I delivered him back to Caddington for his meal. I had a bite or two before setting off for Felden again, using the new route, which again worked well. I was only a minute or two late to pick up Amy at just after 8.30pm. I was invited in: the house was beautiful and in a lovely setting on Felden ridge. Becky chatted for a while about schools and other things, and then Amy and I drove back again to Caddington, where I fell upon my lasagne and, shortly afterwards, into bed.

Not quite such an early start on Saturday. We were at Dunstable Leisure Centre in good time for Amy’s swimming lesson at 9am, followed by Oliver’s at 9.30. We met Claire, a chartered surveyor, whose son James is in Oliver’s group, and enjoyed a  hot drink. Afterwards we returned to Caddington, where Amy unwrapped her presents and got a visit from Grace. Amy seemed to like her sponsored snow leopard. I found that Grace had also sponsored one; so snow leopards are safe in Caddington.

Next up was the birthday lunch at Flamstead Harvester. Very pleasant, though it’s hard to resist eating too much of the free salad. The waitress was excellent. Returning to the house, Grace came round again, before heading off to Dubai. Amazing. The four of us then set off for Aylesbury, following the satnav route until it was overruled by Oliver directing us to his school, which we caught a glimpse of as we turned back to Vicky’s house.

We found this with the combined help of Oliver and the satnav, and Vicky invited us in for a cup of tea. The children invited us to look round the house, and then we had a viewing of the rather frightening video of Oliver driving a Ferrari at 100mph. It was nice to see where the children spent half their time.

Heading back to Caddington, we had to divert when police blocked the Whipsnade road where, it transpired later, a motorcyclist had been killed in a crash. This just put us back on to the road over Dunstable Downs, where I got some quite nice pictures of the sunset.

We set off for home just before 7pm and had an easy journey – Dot driving – arriving about 9.15pm after calling in at the Hitchin garage for petrol, food and flowers (a bouquet for Heather the next day). Both totally shattered when we got to Norwich: watched a bit of TV and didn’t unpack till today…

…missing out Sunday completely. But we still had to get up reasonably early to reach St Luke’s by 9.30am for a rehearsal with their worship band (four guitars, keyboards, flute, violin, viola – and that was without Phil, who didn’t make it). This Communion service was the final appearance by Nicholas before his departure for Aspen at the beginning of next month, and included a bring-and-share lunch, for which Nicholas sat me next to Stuart, presumably so that I could talk to him. Other than playing our instruments, we didn’t take any leading role in the service, but being in such a big music group was fun.

Afterwards, with autumn hastening on, we more or less collapsed into the sofa and watched lots of television. Today we were late up and have been slowly unravelling. Although it was tiring, we loved being with Amy and being part of her routine, and spending a day with Oliver too.

It’s now raining, and there is the promise of strong winds later. I got out just in time to pay in some church cheques, and Dot picked up her pills. David no doubt is recovering from his journey. We spoke at length on FaceTime yesterday, and he seemed pretty well. Today is Amy’s birthday, but we have been unable to contact her yet.

Hockey near Otterspool

Uncategorized, , , , , , ,

And here we are in Caddington. Amy is programming something on Google, Oliver is on Facetime from Aylesbury and Dot is cooking fajitas. I have just finished a John Le Carre book, which ended up in a predictably depressing way that I guess is realistic as far as the Congo is concerned. I picked it up at Edingthorpe Church while showing Dave and Julia one of the Paston walks.

We drove down here yesterday, stopping off to see Aunt Ethel on the way. She was healthy enough but a bit concerned that she and John were being asked to take on the running of the home following their arranged marriage. Interesting idea.

We arrived in plenty of time to have a bite to eat and then drive down to Aldenham to watch Amy playing hockey at Edge Grove School. We met Emma and had a chat, than after the game – in which Amy looked pretty good to me – all the parents / grandparents were invited for  a match tea: sandwiches, cakelets and hot drinks. Very civilised.

On the way home we drove in to neighbouring Wall Hall College, which is now private roads and pricey dwellings for the super-rich. Once back on the M1 we could catch a glimpse of Otterspool, which I understand has suffered much the same fate.

We got home to Caddington around 4.45pm, and Dot cooked chicken chasseur with pasta. Then, following a plan we had only just found out about, I drove to the Travellers’ Rest at Edlesborough to meet Vicky (and Oliver) and take delivery of various bags of clothing and other items. By now it was raining hard as forecast, but this had dispersed by the time we woke up this morning, shortly before 7am.

We were more or less spectators as Amy got herself breakfast, and we left around 7.40pm. Despite being held up by a rear-end shunt (not us), a traffic jam on the A505 and a bin lorry in the narrow streets of Markyate, we made it to school in good time, and Amy disappeared in search of her school shoes which she – in common, it turned out, with several other girls – had left behind when setting off for her hockey match the day before. These duly turned up, but she is now minus a sock.

We turned up early to meet Amy out of school, and the journey both out and in was uneventful. Grace popped round for a bit, then Amy went to hers, then Grace came back … and eventually was fetched by her father. Amy had a bath and we watched some catch-up TV on Dot’s laptop; then had an early night. Earlier in the day we had visited Sainsburys and spoke to a woman who had to get up at 5am to get her granddaughter to school. Going a bit far, in several ways.

Before our journey south, on Monday we were given a lift by the Archers to Judy’s for our occasional cake and compline. In a later e-mail David A said he had felt “below par” and thought I was too. I didn’t know that.

Answering sculpture call

Uncategorized, , , , , , ,
Organ recital at Paston Church, with just a hint of medieval wall painting in the background (right).
Organ recital at Paston Church, with just a hint of medieval wall painting in the background (right).

The scaffolding has departed, the roof seems secure, and a cheque for over £2000 will shortly be winging its way to the builder. So that’s all right. Meanwhile, David is in Canada for Thanksgiving, and I have written three more Iona poems in the hope of getting a book together and keeping Joy happy: she wants me to publish a book of photographs and poems.

On Wednesday I went to see the doctor, who seemed fairly happy with me and in a bit of a hurry for a training session. He is going to book me in for an ultrasound check on my upper stomach/large bowel, but he says my other symptoms (virtually none) make it unlikely that it’s anything too serious. This is not as reassuring as he might have intended it to be.

I left my glasses behind, which he didn’t notice as he flew out of the room, but when I got home, I realised what I’d done. I rang the surgery, to be told it was closed for training. I drove back anyway and found it was indeed closed, which is a rare example of joined-up thinking at Thorpewood. So I had to do without my glasses until the following  morning, when I picked them up from reception.

Later that day, we had our hair cut after a postponement from last week. This is normal – even more normal that postponing a meeting with the Coomes.

Yesterday was the much-heralded Open Day at Paston Church, organised largely by the PCC but partly by the Paston Heritage Society. Dot and I drove out, enjoyed an organ recital, and I took Penny back to North Walsham so that Rob could continue in role as John Paston in a funny hat. On my return there was a talk on medieval wall paintings, which was more interesting than it sounds. Peter was there showing an updated version of the DVD in which Rob appears with animation of a reconstruction of Paston Hall. Impressive, actually. Lucy was there for quite a while, feeling considerably better than of late. Refreshments were superb as usual, despite Brigette being called away because her no-longer-secret barn had flooded.

We called in on Jessie on the way back, adding to our refreshment, and after our return tho Norwich (through a considerable thunderstorm) we got a call from the Hendersons halfway through our mussels. As a result recalled round for champagne and a view (through the darkness) of the new sculpture, which was nicely placed and looking good. We took some cakes, which turned out to be mouldy. Ah well.

Today was Nicholas’ last communion at St Augustine’s, which attracted a motley crew of more than 30 people, including Vicky and Amy and others less distinguished. All very jolly, with excellent cake from Anna and apparently some wine, though this did not reach me. I had a nice cup of tea, though.

Karen and Julia at UEA

Uncategorized, , , , , ,
Dave, Dot and Julia at the start of the walk, near Paston Great Barn
Dave, Dot and Julia at the start of the walk, near Paston Great Barn

The roof has been restored – we hope. It’s raining today, and it rained more on Saturday: no evidence of water getting in, but we’ve had nothing like the downpours that caused the original problem.

Builder Bert finished on Thursday – earlier than we thought and his departure coincided  with the appearance of the window cleaner; so I didn’t have a proper discussion with him. Later I noticed that some leading around the chimney was loose; so I contacted the scaffolders, who I thought were going to remove the scaffolding on Friday. They said they weren’t, and  they’d get Bert to ring me, but nothing happened.

I rang them again on the Saturday morning and left a message asking for Bert’s phone number (which I’d lost). They rang back with it, and I was eventually able to speak to him. He came round on Sunday morning and repaired the leading – all of this fitting in neatly with our other weekend activities centring on the visit of the Evetts. The scaffolding is still there, but it should go tomorrow. The Evetts are in St Albans, on their way to pick up Amy.

Before they got here, on the Wednesday, when it was still warm, I visited the dentist, who cleared me at a cost of £98, and then Geoff Saunders, who had had a recent seizure problem resulting in a sudden visit to hospital. This turned out to be more spectacular than serious, and he was quite chirpy. His right side had improved a lot, and he said his feet were getting better. HIs carer, Lisa, was there, and we all had a cup of tea and biscuits.

In the evening, while Dot was at orchestra, I visited the Arts Centre for a performance of The Shipwrecked House by poet Claire Trévien. It opened with some new poems from Martin Figura, and I found myself seated next to his wife, Helen Ivory; so I couldn’t heckle. As if: one or two of the poems, on politicians and machines, were quite good. The main event was disappointing, despite its glowing reviews. I probably should have read the book before I went, because it was hard to make out what was going on, and she wasn’t easy to hear in the face of the sound effects (sea, storm etc). 

The next day I was picked up fairly early by Rob Knee, and we visited Karen Smyth at UEA to talk about a big research project relating to the Pastons that Karen would like to get money for. In the afternoon Dot and I were supposed to have our hair cut, but when it became apparent that Linda wasn’t coming, Dot rang her, and she said she’d sent me a message on Facebook. I then discovered that she had, but for some reason it hadn’t reached my e-mail inbox. Ho hum.

Dave and Julia arrived about 1.30pm on Friday. We had lunch and then walked the riverside path up to the art school, followed by tea and coffee at Costa’s in London Street. It was warm enough to sit outside, and it was still pretty warm the next morning when Julia went off to a conference at which she was speaking at UEA and we took Dave (via bus and the rail bridge) to walk round the new broad at Whitlingham, plus a bit of Thorpe Green.

After lunch we took the bus again – this time to the Sainsbury Centre for a superb exhibition entitled Reality. Some really mesmerising  paintings, including a couple by Kate Coleman. Particularly liked Clive Head and John Keane. During this the forecast rain arrived, and the temperature fell. Julia emerged from her conference and joined us for a drink in the restaurant, and then we took the bus home – a 70-minute marathon during which we waited interminably on Foundry Bridge to turn right into a road packed with stationary cars. The bus was jammed, but at least the rain was stopping.

In the evening we walked up to Jamie’s for an excellent meal: our waiter was Steve, who we had had before. He was first class.

On Sunday it was dry, but with some chilliness in the air. After Bert fixed the leading round the chimney, we drove to Mundesley for scones and tea, and then did a shortened version of one of the Paston walks, starting at the church and visiting Edingthorpe after doing a bit of blackberry picking on the way (crumble for supper later); then completing the circle. Just over four miles, and we popped into the recently repaired church before we returned to Mundesley for tea and cake.

In the evening we watched the Japanese grand prix, the result of which we had been keeping from Dave all day.