Yet again, it’s wet. This time it’s very, very wet. And cold, and windy. I am looking for a slightly less wet moment to pop over to the station and buy tickets to Nottingham, where we’re heading tomorrow.

Well, that didn’t work. Got to the station, but got wet as well. Dark grey sky. Horrible. Greyness slightly alleviated by woman in ticket office called Kristine, who had diamonds on her eyelashes. On the minus side, she got the ticket date wrong and had to put it through again.

Yesterday was slightly less grey, especially when we got away from Norwich and nearer to London, where we were visiting the Coomes. We had been to church first: Dot had cooked a birthday cake for Phyllis, who claims she is 89, and bought some flowers for Christine, who is retiring as coffee-person after 28 years. The journey to and from London was quite straightforward, and Kristine had her hair back, though the texture had changed following chemotherapy. She looked good as ever, though. David, sadly, was noticeably weaker and a bit more difficult to understand. Still, his sense of humour has not deserted him.

On Saturday we had more rain, which dissuaded us from going to the theatre in the evening as we had intended. Dot had been to Carrow Road to see the last home match of the season and Wes Hoolihan’s last after ten years. Fittingly he was captain and scored, albeit via a big deflection, and City beat Leeds 2-1. Dot stayed behind for the celebrations, and I cooked the Hello Fresh! meal.

On Friday it was raining as Anne and Dot departed for the city, and continued to rain when they got back and Dot departed for her massage while I went to Mundesley to pick up Roger’s framed picture. It was raining there too.

On Thursday, happily, it was not raining as I went to Brundall and did a three-mile walk in the company of David Pilch, who I was in the same class with at school and who is also the husband of the Blofield hub co-ordinator for the Paston Footprints project. I was pretty exhausted by the end of it (he walks pretty fast), but I was given a cup of tea in the church by his wife Barbara, and we had a useful talk about prospects for Blofield in 2019.

In the evening we were at Mundesley Manor Hotel for the PHS annual meeting, which we managed to get through without discussing the fact that Lucy had resigned, and the resulting problems with the re-enactors. This rumbles on, and today e-mails were flying backwards and forwards. I’m hoping that by the time I get back from Nottingham, something will have been sorted out.

Back in the distant past, last Wednesday, we had the HIgbees for lunch, which was very pleasant as always. If I remember rightly, it wasn’t raining.

We have reverted to rain again, but at least it’s fairly warm. I thought twice, but eventually walked up to the Assembly House for the Archant agm and arrived just in time. Had a chat with Doug Bird and Adam Aiken and squeezed into a seat next to Mike Almond and Kevin Maddams. Lengthy speeches, and no dividend, but there seems to be a ray of digital hope through a link-up with an American company.

Long queue for food afterwards but eventually grabbed a chair and sat with Ivor Harvey, Mike and Peter March for a convivial lunch and much reminiscence. No-one present from EDP subs, needless to say. Meanwhile Dot was at the Cathedral for a Head Teachers’ Conference.

Last night another annual meeting – this time the parish one.  The St Augustine’s table was seven strong and fairly merry. Anna brought several half-empty bottles of wine. Obviously I  could only drink a limited amount as I was driving. The meeting itself was a trifle boring and predictable, but hey, aren’t they all? The Rev Simon Stokes tried to be reassuring.

Earlier in the day Dot her annual session with the diabetes nurse, which turned out to be a counselling session in which Dot tried to make the nurse feel better. She’s good at that – and her non-diabetes was fine too. Later she went to the shop, and timed her absence to coincide with Roger Mason’s unexpected visit.

The previous day we called to see his mother after I led a service at church. Dot dropped me off at Rob’s to discuss the Lucy situation with him and Peter. This gave me a new perspective on what was at the nub of it – the cause of Lucy’s resignation from Footprints and as trustee of the PHS. This is not the place to go into it, but it’s really a clash of ways of working, which I guess is nobody’s fault but might have been anticipated. Lots of problems as a result, of course.

Jessie seemed pretty well, but sadly the bird’s nest in her box has been destroyed by a bumble bee. Something else you don’t expect.

The previous day Des and Chris arrived home after their long holiday in New Zealand, and we had a prossecco in the garden. It was still pretty hot, but there were a few drops of rain from a clear sky.

Two meals out the previous two days – on Thursday with Eleanor at Eaton, foolishly arranged for 6pm, which meant that getting across the city was horrendous. Almost hit a couple of cyclists when emerging from Branksome Road on to Newmarket Road; they were travelling towards each other on the path, meeting as I emerged into a line of traffic. Completely mad. Other than that, it was a lovely evening, and we ate in the conservatory with the doors open.

On Friday we went to the Eagles’ for a meal, and had an amazing lamb and filo pastry concoction that’s pictured above, with a yoghurt sauce. I had eaten too much starter and couldn’t finish it, but it was pretty impressive. Another nice evening.

How quickly things change. A few days ago I was bemoaning the lack of heat, and the failure of the sun to put in an appearance. Today it is undeniably hot, with a clear blue sky.

Yesterday, I’m happy to say, it was slightly less hot, and my train journey to Coventry was quite pleasant. Once there, I took Andrew to Memorial Park, had an ice cream (me; piece of cake, him) and walked back to Minster Lodge. Not too far, but it exhausted Andrew, and I was quite tired too. Other than that he seemed quite well, apart from his usual failure to place things correctly in time and space.

I picked up Andrew’s Christmas presents for us (a little late) and was a bit worried about their weight, but in fact they weren’t too cumbersome on the journey home, which was awkward in other ways. First, I had to wait about an hour at Coventry station because the ticket lady had booked me onto a specific train, which turned out to be 12 minutes late. This introduced a worry about catching the connection to Norwich, which rapidly accelerated (the worry, not the train) when I reached the platform at Euston Square underground and heard conflicting announcements about the length of delays for trains on that line. Eventually the loudspeaker said there would be no more trains because of a signal failure, but at precisely that point the board said there was one arriving in two minutes. My faith in inanimate objects was rewarded when it duly turned up and took me to Liverpool Street.

I was still on the brink when I rushed on to the station concourse and saw that the Norwich train had been cancelled. However, a replacement had miraculously been scheduled for five minutes later, and I hurtled on to this, only to find my allotted seat was occupied and to be told by the rather surly woman occupying it that all reservations were void. Thank you, Greater Anglia. Happily, an adjacent seat was vacant and amazingly, the train made good time to Norwich.

Point of interest for first-class rail travellers. On Greater Anglia you get free tea and coffee, plus free biscuits or crisps, if you go to the buffet car with your ticket. On Virgin, you are no sooner seated than you are offered tea, coffee and all kinds of alcoholic beverages at your seat, plus sandwiches  or onion bhajis and a myriad other snacks – all free. Just in case you should be wondering about whether to travel to Coventry or Norwich.

This morning Dot and I went to see Lucy, who is upset at certain things happening within and to the Paston Heritage Society that I am not yet at liberty to divulge. Our discussion was quite revealing, and I found myself in sympathy with much of what she said. Her new house is still choc-a-block, and while we were there she took delivery of a heavy cabinet  and something else weighty. Two men also came uproot her tree stumps. Naomi was also there.

Earlier in the week I managed to clean my parents’ grave with some magic spray I got online. We also had the house alarm serviced by a nice young lad who admired our garage floor.

On Tuesday I went to Jurnet’s poetry evening and read three poems. Not particularly inspiring as an evening, but they seemed to like the poems – The Daffodils are Dead, Angel’s Wings and White Hut. Hilary was there, but not Rupert.

Last Sunday was the vicar’s last, and I couldn’t face going to the “joint” service at St Luke’s; so as penance we went and had coffee with the Hendersons. In the afternoon we had our usual good time with Jessie. I was later astonished to discover that some of St Luke’s congregation are coming to us on April 29, because they don’t have anyone to lead their service. Apparently this is because those who would be involved are going to Oldham for David’s installation. Totally gobsmacked.

David arrived back from Canada yesterday, while I was en route to Coventry, and Des and Chris at No 11 arrive back from New Zealand tomorrow, after overnighting somewhere near the airport. All very reassuring.

I seem to remember we used to have a yellow thing in the sky that gave off a certain amount of heat. No sign of it since I last posted here, and for a while before that. Gloomy, grey and damp weather persists. Of course there could be something else in the sky soon, because the US, UK and France have just attacked targets in Syria. Expect a backlash any time.

Not a particularly happy week in other ways. Spent ages trying to help Debbie with getting a group e-mail sent out via mailchimp, which I had to pick up as I went along. All seemed to be well in the end, but Debbie then got in touch to say it hadn’t gone, which meant the involvement of the dreaded Liz D, as mailchimp expert. Eventually it turned out that mailchimp couldn’t cope with having copy pasted into it from Word, which seems a pretty big deficiency to me, especially as there’s nothing to say there’s anything wrong.

Then yesterday our church treasurer rang to say the bank wouldn’t deal with her and would I, as a former treasurer and signatory, ring them to sort it out. I made the mistake of saying yes, and then had the usual trouble with TSB, who wanted memorable information that I had forgotten years ago. I got very angry and could actually feel my blood pressure rising. In the end I referred the treasurer to Howard, who lives close to a TSB branch and is also a signatory, but I felt bad for the rest of the day. In fact, I still haven’t completely recovered.

This set me up well for the ceilidh at St Luke’s in the evening, which was a farewell gathering for the vicar. Dot went early for a practice (she’s in the ceilidh band with Anna, Howard and Phil), and I was going to give the whole thing a miss for obvious reasons, but Sophie rang and asked if I could give Phyllis a lift; so I did. As I arrived Howard was filling in bank forms, which made me feel bad, especially as he’s leaving for Nepal today and hadn’t packed yet. I hung around for a while and talked to various people, but eventually had to leave, before the vicar arrived.

Some good things happened. Amy sent us lots of pictures from Cornwall, and I wrote a poem about the Maids Head. On Thursday we went for meal at Prezzo with Angela and Rodney, partly to discuss arrangements for our golden wedding do. It was a nice meal, but that branch of Prezzo is closing in a month, which is very annoying. We know the staff, it’s close to us and we like the food. Afterwards A & R came back for a drink, and we chatted for quite a while.

Earlier in the week Dot rang up Colin Wright about cutting down the trees in our front garden, which were beginning to look pretty ugly. As it happened, he was in Norwich and came round to have a look, then said he could do them the next day. He arrived at 9am, half an hour early, took down the trees and installed some trellis work in that corner of the garden. Dot and I moved some  plants to make it look less stark, and I’m sure in due course it will be very attractive. As I write, Dot is trying to train the ivy across some wire to form an arch.

Astonishingly the following day (Thursday) my brother Phil walked the mile from his house to mine and arrived unexpectedly with a belated Easter card from his son Sam. He stayed for a cup of tea, and then Dot drove him back on the way to the shops. Well, not really on the way, but out there somewhere. Phil seems a lot better recently, but of course he still has the Parkinson’s. My ankle has improved a lot, but I’m still not walking any great distances.

Just back from a meeting at the Maid’s Head with Rob and Georgina X (no-one knows her surname, but she’s in charge of sales at the hotel while her colleague is on maternity leave). We discussed the two major events relating to the Pastons and the hotel, namely Norfolk Day, when I shall be in Canada (It’s also our golden wedding day) and Founders’ Day, which is Dot’s birthday.  You see how it all ties in?

We also talked about other methods of involving the hotel in the Paston extravaganza, which means I’ll be doing quit a bit of work, such as writing a poem about the Maid’s Head and devising a leaflet for their use. Matt would have been at the meeting, but he has a stomach upset.

Yesterday Dot and I neatly avoided the annual meeting of the DCC by travelling to Ashtead, in Surrey, for Bob and Susan Bushell’s golden wedding celebrations. They used to be Sue and Robert, but then Anne used to be Ruthie. What can you do? The only other Wallhallians there were Pat and Barry, and we sat with them for the afternoon tea. Barry does small acting jobs in films, and is entertaining on the subject (and various other subjects). Pat is a bit quieter.

The tea was delicious, and the talk by four grandchildren was extremely well done. Bob (Robert), a former banker, got quite emotional. All in all a good afternoon, and the drive there and back, though very wet, was not too bad. We stopped at Birchanger Services on the M11 going and coming, and shared the driving of course. It all took about the same time as David’s flight to Toronto. He is spending ten days or so there.

The previous day Dot went to Carrow Road to watch Norwich City play Aston Villa, and I watched it on Now TV, having been alerted by David. Good thing, too, because they won 3-1, with a superb goal by Murphy at the end of the first half.

Apart from having our hair cut, the only other thing worth of note in the last week was a  visit to the Undercroft to see an exhibition by cross-generational artists. I’m not sure what that means: I presume it’s younger ones pretending to be older, and vice versa. Anyway it included an inventive section by Rupert Mallin, who I had a long chat with. I had thought I was going to the PV, but apparently that was later in the day. I was too tired to go back.

After the Undercroft, Dot and I called in at Jarrolds and saw Anna drinking a cup of tea. She had been quite ill after seeing her granddaughter, and has not yet recovered. Dot and I had wine and cheese at the Jarrolds wine bar, and by the time we got home I had to lie down. Dot has managed to get a bit of gardening done, but generally it’s been pretty wet and gloomy over the last few pseudo-spring days.

Dot and I are alone again, following a lovely weekend with David, Oliver and Amy. well, the weekend wasn’t lovely in terms of weather – it was largely cold and wet – but it was lovely having them with us. We didn’t get out much, but there was plenty of Easter-egg hunting and table tennis.

We did get to see Ready Player One at the cinema – a really good film about virtual and real worlds, based on a book that four of us had read and enjoyed. And yesterday, when the rain eventually stopped, we took a bus up to the UEA and, while David and Amy looked round the Superstructures exhibition, Dot, Oliver and I walked round the campus, partly looking for the sculptures in the outdoor exhibition and partly talking about the UEA and universities in general. Oliver clearly liked the UEA layout and halls of residence, but he has his heart set on either  Oxford or Cambridge – quite rightly.

After a drink in the cafe we took a bus back into the city and had a lovely lunch at Presto, chatting to Roberto and Kathy and our waitress, Charlotte, who used to work at Sasses as a girl and now has children, returning to work after time off. The family left for Caddington around 5.30pm.

Of course Dot and I left the house at other times. Around midnight on Friday we had to go and lock the church hall gates ( so that the path through didn’t become a right of way), and slightly earlier on Saturday we went and opened them, which was somewhat easier. I made a mental note to stop doing this: I’ve been doing it for years, and it’s very inconvenient. This year there was also hassle from the vicar and Stuart about the date chosen – as if there was a date that wouldn’t be inconvenient for local residents. The vicar suggested some time in the Low Season. In The Lathes they speak of little but the Low Season.

We also went to church on Easter Sunday, of course. Our offer to take any one else who was interested was declined, but we had a really good service with Liz Cannon and Howard.

Before David, Oliver and Amy’s arrival there were a couple of items of note. On the Wednesday there was a meeting about the interregnum led by the Archdeacon and Rural Dean. I was very disappointed by this, but my disappointment was reduced somewhat by a very nice e-mail from the Rural Dean (via Carrie) afterwards.

On the Thursday I went to Hellesdon library to hear a costumed talk by Rob (as Richard Calle) to the local history group. I arrived at the same time as Rob and Penny, and so was able to keep Penny company in the audience. Rob was good as always, despite his feeling under the weather. His research is impressive.

Have been having trouble sleeping recently. This morning I must have woken not much after 5am. It is now just after 8am. I am hoping Dot is still asleep.