If I thought it was cold last time, today must be Arctic. We’ve just been to the shop, and I practically froze during the short distance between car and shop. It snowed this morning, and more is forecast. Apparently it’s chaotic in Aberdeenshire.

This week has been hectic, largely because Dot’s shoulder injury – now re-diagnosed as a neck injury – has meant she can’t drive, or play the violin. The former has had more impact on me, because I have had to drive her everywhere. It’s not that I mind driving her everywhere (I like driving), but it cuts down dramatically on the time I have available to do the various tasks I have before me. I have however managed to complete the Paston magazine (Ed 5) and it went off to the printer today.

Yesterday was a bit of a tour-de-force. Dot had fixed up an appointment with a physio at Little Plumstead at noon. We had intended to come home after that and then drive to see Jessie. Fortunately Dot had the foresight to take with us to the physio the plant and other stuff we were going to take to Jessie – just in case the appointment lasted longer than half an hour.

It lasted over 90 minutes, during which I braved a chilly wind and a little rain to walk my daily quota round the village. So when Dot emerged with her new diagnosis, a well-massaged neck and a series of exercises to do, we were able to drive straight to North Walsham and get there almost exactly on time (2pm).

We stayed for about 90 minutes, during which a couple of nurses dropped in to give Jessie an injection and we had a cup of tea and a few biscuits (we’d missed lunch). I had to be at a Paston meeting at Mundesley at 7pm, so we started preparing supper almost immediately we got home, which was when the phone rang. It was M, whose husband is in Australia.

Dot invited her round at about 6pm, when I was due to leave for Mundesley. She arrived at 5pm, before we’d prepared supper, which is about par for the course. (She was ready; so she came.) But that wasn’t the strange bit. We finished cooking the meal (Hello Fresh for 2) and  asked her if she wanted anything to eat or drink. She said no. So we put our food on the table. She sat down in front of Dot’s meal. Dot said no, it was her meal;  so she sat down in front of mine. Eventually we ended up giving her bits of our own meals.

I left while she was discussing politics with Dot, drove to Mundesley in Dot’s car and attended a meeting with Lucy, Rob, Penny and all the re-enactors. I even took the minutes. Quite a tiring day, really. Very wet in the end.

Earlier in the week (Sunday, in fact) we had attended an unusual event at Mangreen. It started in Hempnall, at the home of Roger and Sue Eagle and with Helen “Sugar” Lamb and her husband Chris, plus one or two others. Hefty nibbles and then on to Mangreen, where there was a concert by the Norwich Community Choir (or portion of), interspersed with stories by master storyteller Paul Jackson. Quit effective, all in all. Mince pies afterwards.

On Monday I drove Dot to a Diocesan House event, then fetched her (after a gap). Also did some work on the Paston mag. On Tuesday I met Carrie Sant at the bank so that she could identify herself as the next step in changing signatories for the church account. This has been going on for about 18 months. Afterwards we had a cup of tea and Carrie filled me in on the difficulties faced by (and sometimes surmounted by) refugees and asylum seekers. Apparently the system suits anyone who’s prepared to be dishonest.

In the evening, on the spur of the moment, we went to see Paddington 2, which is a wonderful film. A triumph for love, innocence and sheer goodness.

Some wintry weather this week. Today it’s very cold indeed, and Dot is at Carrow Road, watching City trying to win for the first time in half a dozen matches (and failing: another   1-1 draw). The Evetts departed after breakfast, having been with us since Dot’s birthday on Wednesday.

They arrived quite late, and we barely had time to walk into the city and wander round before returning for the evening’s events. Howard was supposed to come round with some “surprise” champagne, but got the time wrong; so we drank pink fizzy supplied by the Evetts. Philip and Anne had also come round early for the “surprise”; so that went well.

We walked up to Bishop’s for 7pm and had the customary excellent meal. Food, service and conversation were all really good.

On Thursday we braved very strong wind under a blue sky to travel to the UEA by bus. Went to an exhibition by Roger Law, which was excellent – not so much for the Spitting Image puppets as for his drawings and much later ceramics, which he created in China. I’ve never been much for ceramics, but these were superb.

We had lunch in the restaurant before venturing out to tour the trail of sculpted figures round the campus that included Moores and Gormleys, some of which were quite hard to find. Again, impressive, but the very cold and blustery wind persuaded us to abandon our plans to walk up to Cringleford, and we had another hot drink and caught the bus home.

The next day we went to Wymondham Abbey, had a hot drink there and then walked by the river and eventually to the railway station where we had lunch at the Station Bistro, which was very good indeed. I had left the car in a car park and time was running out; so I walked back to fetch it and picked the others up at the station before parking on the street near the Abbey and doing a little bit of shopping in town, much of it a lovely shop called Ebony. Julia also bought a jewellery tree, which made quite a lot of itself.

In the evening we went to Prezzos and got a free bottle of Prosecco as well as reduction on the price of the meal because Julia has  a Gourmet card. Again, a very nice meal and good service. Again, weather cold, though not quite so windy.

At the beginning of the week Dot injured her shoulder by slipping off the stairs while holding the banister. She consulted a chemist, but was told that rest was probably best. It has varied in pain since then, and I had to drive her to Diocesan House on Monday; she would not have been able to play violin on Wednesday, but the Evetts were here then anyway: we’re still not sure if she’ll be OK by this Wednesday. Hope so.

After taking Dot to Diocesan House I had my blood test, but haven’t really had time to get the results yet. I have booked an appointment with the doctor, though. Later I picked Dot up from Diocesan House and went with Dot to see Jessie in hospital. She seemed surprisingly well, considering. We’ve just heard she came out of hospital today.

On Tuesday we went to Cake and Compline at Judy’s, and  Judy made Dot a cake. Another nice evening.

Jessie is in hospital, having had one of her lungs removed to get rid of her lung cancer. This was a bit more drastic than we had anticipated, but according to Roger she’s in good spirits. We will probably visit her on Monday. We did see her on Tuesday before she went into hospital, taking a trip out to North Walsham after Dot had been to the dentist to have her implant completed, at a mere snip (£1900). That’s not the total cost; it’s the last instalment. We shall not be having much dental work done in the near future.

On Thursday we went to London to see the Coomes. Kristine seemed perky, but David is deteriorating visibly, and is having more trouble with his speech, though he appears to be in reasonable spirits – at least for the 150 minutes we were with them. When we left we were forced into a detour by a road closure and followed the satnav until we were about to get on to the A12 – which would have been disastrous, because we needed petrol. Eventually I found a way back to a petrol station. We lost about 15-20 minutes, I should think.

Yesterday we had our hair cut by Linda, and in the evening I went to Pinky’s at Halesworth, again being hampered by a road closure. I made it in time, but the room was really crowded with a record attendance. I read three of my recent poems: Somewhere to Fall, Family Tree and Clouds of Glory.

Today the Hendersons came round for coffee at about 11am, because Maryta was collecting cash for Age UK before the match. Paul and I walked her down to the meeting point – Carrow Park – and killed some time in Morrisons because she was too early. Dot is at the match as I write (we are drawing 1-1), and I have just driven Maryta home. She seemed very positive about her bucket work, but cold. I gave her some coffee.

The weather has turned pretty cold. At the weekend we were at Little Gidding on a retreat, staying at Ferrar House, which is owned by the Little Gidding Trust and run by Sue, who did not seem to be into silent meditation but was both welcoming and full of information about the place.

We travelled with Judy in the back seat and took the route across the Fens and through Ramsey, leaving around 10am on Saturday. This got us to Little Gidding, which is in beautiful countryside between Huntingdon and Peterborough, just after midday and in good time for lunch at 12.30pm. David and Bridget brought Claire (Carrington) and got there about a minute before the meal was due, which is pretty good for them.

We had a double room with an excellent view, which compensated for the shower having no hot water (according to my informant) and the bath running very slowly and then leaking through the plughole. On the plus side, the food was good (especially the Stilton and broccoli soup for lunch) and the house full of information about  both T S Eliot and the Ferrars and the religious community they had set up there. The latter seemed to inspire Eliot when he wrote the poem (last of the Four Quartets), although he apparently only spent an afternoon there.

I led a longish session on the poem (noting the allusions to Lady Julian), and after evening meal we had an entertainment, during which Dot and I sang a few songs (Feel Like I’m Falling Apart, Man in the Mask, Sunset Woman and I’m Going Down to Babylon), Judy read a couple of Eliot’s cat poems, and David played the flute. He also tried to teach us a song, but that didn’t work too well.

Yesterday we made our own breakfast and then read right through Little Gidding before having a short service, for which we were joined by Bridget’s friend Mary. We sung my All will be well song and I read the Lord’s Prayer in haiku. Bridget read John 1 in everyone’s least favourite version, the New English Bible, which appears to have been translated by people who don’t speak English or don’t understand poetry, or both.

Afterwards we walked up to Steeple Gidding in a rather chilly wind and enough mud to persuade Claire to turn back halfway. Lovely walk with good views and an enchanting church without pews in the traditional style. The previous night we had had a look through Little Gidding Church, which is almost next to the house use stayed in. Also impressive and atmospheric.

While we were at Little Gidding I witnessed my first Hunt, which gathered in the field opposite, with the sheep huddled in the corner as if knowing what was going on. It all seemed very disorganised, but later on I saw a fox streaking across the field about 200 yards away, followed eventually by the horsemen. Not sure what happened in the end. Dogs killing foxes is actually illegal, but there were plenty of dogs around – sometimes in the garden of our house. The next day Mary told us that some of the hunts took an eagle with them in a cage and released it at the end to kill the fox. Apparently the eagle is called Loophole, for obvious reasons. I have to admit I saw no eagle, although there were plenty of red kite in the area. Stunning birds.

Sue got some old silver out to show us before we left, which made us a bit late for our planned meal at the Fox at Folksworth. Nevertheless the meal was first class, and no problem. They even managed to split the bill four ways, which is no mean feat (Mary was joined by her partner, Brian). Folksworth happens to be one of the places my ancestors come from, and afterwards Dot and I and Judy went for a quick look at the churchyard (where I had been before). We found a couple of tombstones with Lenton on them, but didn’t stay long because of the biting wind.

Afterwards Dot drove home – this time by the standard route down the M11, A14 and A11, which turned out to be OK. The sky tuned very black near Norwich, and it was raining as we unpacked. Judy left quickly to put the cat out, though if the cat had any sense it would have wanted to stay inside.

Earlier in the week (Thursday) I went to see Dr Carlile, who impressed me by taking my symptoms seriously – although she still wanted to put my blood pressure pills up. I am having my blood thoroughly tested: it must be urgent, because this will be as soon as November 20. Felt pretty rough when we got to Little Gidding, but I had had a very bad night.

The piano tuner came on Friday. I may have to cut down on his frequency, because he charges a lot (£88), but we’ve had him for years and he’s a nice bloke.

In the evening we had a meal with a couple we haven’t seen for about 45 years. Cathy Songer used to teach with Dot in Muswell Hill, and we played badminton with her and her husband Chris on a couple of occasions. He is now very large (to put it mildly), but she has grown old gracefully. They now live in Lowestoft, having moved there from St Albans. The meal (at the Nelson) was very nice, and Chris insisted on paying. He also ordered an extra bottle of wine. He’s a take-charge guy. I left the tip. We invited them back for coffee, but Chris couldn’t walk that far. It wasn’t the wine; it was his hips – and his weight, it has to be said.

What a busy November it’s turning out to be. If I had been at Mundesley now (as I would have been if I had not discovered that Lucy has a bad cold),  I would have been out every day for one reason or another.

On the second day of the month I went to see Andrew at Coventry. I went by train and all the connections worked well. I was with him for about an hour and a half: he started off very down but perked up quickly. I tried to fix his new video player and managed to extract a jammed disk, but it still wouldn’t work. He accompanied me part of the way back to the station, but soon wanted to go back. Three days later he was taken to Hearsall Baptist Church by Mrs Baxi (I was rung for permission) and apparently it went well. So that’s all good.

On Friday we took advantage of Norwich Restaurant Week by walking up to a new Norwich restaurant, the Orford Flat Iron, with neighbours Des and Chris and having a very good lunch. I had a top-class steak followed by a top-class creme brûlée. The waitress came from Hamilton, Ontario, and the chef was French.

I spent most of Saturday at Blofield Church, where they were holding a History Day which included input from the Paston Heritage Society. I had put together a leaflet for them on how the Blofield Pastons fitted in with the rest of the family. During its creation I had got immersed in several fascinating  byways, but it turned out all right. At least, they seemed to like it. The re-enactors were present. Afterwards I went for a short walk through the churchyard and up a hill so that I maintained my record of doing at least two miles a day where possible. This is working quite well at the moment.

On Sunday, in addition to leading the service, I went to St Luke’s to assist in interviewing the three candidates for the treasurer’s job. This was not too difficult, as Simon Snell did all the heavy lifting (Tony Barton also assisted), but it dragged on a bit, and I didn’t get home till well after 5pm. We were all agreed on the choice.

I spent much of Monday and yesterday putting together some stuff for our upcoming weekend retreat at Little Gidding, but had to break off for a couple of things. On Monday it was the PCC meeting, which lasted till 10pm and featured the odd disagreement, mainly because the vicar tends to run the church like a business and tends not to listen to what people are saying. However, we got an absolutely full turnout, which I don’t think has happened before.

Yesterday Dot and I went to the Archant coffee morning. The usual suspects attended, except the Hendersons. Paul was up north for an uncle’s funeral, and Maryta doesn’t tend to come on her own. In the evening we went to the beautiful Oxnead Hall for a talk by Rob Knee for the Bure Navigation Conservation Trust. This was basically the standard Paston talk with brief references to the Bure (on whose banks Oxnead Hall stands), but it was enjoyable. I think I could probably have given it myself, though I would have lacked the status. Also present: Rob’s wife Penny, Liz and a friend from UEA, and the Aspinalls, who own the Hall and are both rich and supportive of the PHS – a good combination.

We’ve made it to November without being ambushed by Hallowe’en. The last couple of days have been clear and quite pleasant, though definitely autumnal. I have maintained a good walking record during October, but will start this month badly, as I shall not do 5000 steps today, barring unforeseen circumstances.

On Sunday we got to church at the right time, namely an hour later than usual after reconnecting with GMT. I led the prayers. We didn’t go out to see Jessie afterwards, as she needed a rest following her exploratory operation earlier in the week. No diagnosis yet. I am surrounded by people in poor health; my poet friend Joy has heart failure (broken mitral valve), which doesn’t sound good, and our friend Naomi is in hospital with severe Crohn’s disease and possibly appendicitis (they removed the appendix anyway). I got a text from her pleading for a visit, so I bussed up there yesterday and arrived just before her mum left. She is pretty depressed about the prognosis, unsurprisingly, as the prognosis is that no-one really knows what they can do about it.

Then today I drove over to see my cousin Stephen, who has multiple sclerosis and can only get around with the aid of a four-legged support. I went to see him because I had the wrong phone number and I had to ask him about an acquaintance of his father’s named Janet Mann.

Someone in Africa had been asking another cousin, Ann (Rumsby), about her, and I expected to find Paul at Stephen’s. Sadly, though, his dementia has worsened and he is in a care home at Horsford. On the plus side, Stephen knew Janet, and I was able to give her a ring later, asking if she minded my giving Ann her number. She didn’t, and with any luck she’ll be connected with the friend in Africa (Anna Smidt).

Apparently Stephen has little or no contact with his brother, who lives only two or three miles away from him. On the other hand, Stephen has a dog. He sees his sister Pat about every five or six weeks, when she comes down from Stamford to see Paul.

The last few days I’ve been very busy putting together a leaflet for the Blofield/Paston event on Saturday. It involves quite a bit of research into family trees which, though fascinating, soon becomes all-consuming and frustrating in equal measure. I managed to end up with something that I think is mainly right, and I am getting it printed by Nick Gorvin for £90, payable by PHS. I hope.

While I was visiting Naomi – or more accurately, just after I got back – Dot went to St Augustine’s to help with a “Hallowe’en” party that apparently went down very well with the local families. Meanwhile I made the evening meal, so that she could eat it before going off to watch Norwich City lose again (2-1 against Wolves).

Today (or possibly yesterday, or both) Dot got into a conversation with Des about the Norfolk Restaurant Week. As  a result the four of us are going out to lunch at one of said restaurants on Friday at lunchtime. Before that I shall be travelling to Coventry tomorrow to see Andrew who, I’m told, is doing well. I hope I don’t set him back.