The weather has turned more appealing – mainly dry and a nice degree of warmth, though it’s rather dull today.  Elsewhere – the West Midlands, Kent and East London, for example – there has been a huge amount of rain and flash flooding, which just goes to show. Dot is upstairs practising religiously for her concert this Saturday, to which an unprecedented number of friends are coming. Phil and Joy are in Southampton, which also goes to show.

On Saturday we travelled widely – well, we took a train to Stowmarket, where I participated in the Suffolk Poetry Festival, reading for Pinky’s. I read Angel’s Wings, Layers, Aldeburgh and Beyond the Stars, though not particularly well. We were on first, and people hadn’t settled down; so there was not much audience response. I was also aware that time was limited, and we had started late. Ah, well. Stayed to listen to some other poems, some of which were very good. Caught the 15.55 back to Norwich in order to have something to eat before walking up to Hungate for the launch party at 6pm.

Quite a good attendance, though I suspect that most were from the UEA. I didn’t know most of them, but @littlemsautumn was there, as was Karen, and of course Rob and Penny, plus Dale, the Pilches, Sophie and of course the project manager, who was serving drinks but no nibbles. The place looked pretty good, but there were one or two errors on the boards, which I didn’t mention to Matt (the project manager).

On Sunday I preached at church, and we spent most of the afternoon watching the Monaco grand prix, not because it was exciting, but because we wanted Ricciardo to hang on and win with his underpowered car. He did.

We spent much of the rest of the weekend and Monday morning sorting out pictures to be used in our Golden Wedding celebration at Angela’s. In the afternoon we went to Angela’s and discussed details, then went for a meal at the George. We all had fish and chips, which I paid for. Delicious meal, but with repercussions, namely a bad night. Still don’t really know what’s wrong with my throat.

Dot spent most of yesterday in the city choosing a dress for the Golden Wedding. In the end she bought two – very nice, IMHO. Meanwhile I was attempting to sort out the rest of the photographs (limited success) and choose some music for the Golden Wedding. I also walked up to Phil’s to water his flowers, and spoke to Des and Mary. In the evening Bridget drove us to Cake and Compline at Jude’s. David turned up late on his scooter, having prioritised his choir; Vicky was in Spain; and Claire was somewhere else. Everybody has to be somewhere (Spike Milligan).

On Monday we had a DCC meeting at our house, at which we were told that Anna would like to join. Later I learnt via e-mail from Howard that Elwira was already a member, though no-one knew anything about it, and she wasn’t on the list approved at the annual parochial church meeting – thus she didn’t know about Monday’s meeting. Later still I discovered (again via Howard) that Debbie also wants to be a member. I think I may come off the DCC, because non-members are soon going to be the more select group, and it will be less hassle.

On Tuesday Dot and I went to hear Barb Jungr sing some Bob Dylan songs. She sounds German but is in fact English and has a superb voice, as well as a good stage presence. She was supported by keyboard and bass, and there was a strong jazz feel to the evening – which started at 10pm and took place in the Spiegeltent on Chapelfield Gardens. The Spiegeltent is a feature of the Norfolk and Norwich Festival and is half large tent, half pub. We managed to get seats by a small table and bought a half of cider each.

The set lasted about 75 minutes and was really enjoyable, starting with a great version of Times Have Changed and ending with an even more brilliant version of Chimes of Freedom. Pleasant walk home through an empty city.

Yesterday the weather broke and it rained, though paradoxically it was probably warmer. Before it rained I walked up to see Phil and Joy, because they are off for a week with Sam and Lucy (travelling as I write) and wanted me to water their flowers. Later we went to our third Festival event – this time walking up in the company of Des and Chris until we lost them in the Cathedral.

This time it was a Three Choirs event, with the choirs from Ely, Peterborough and Norwich cathedrals performing a number of items that all sounded very similar but extremely well done, accompanied mainly by an organ and a harp. I think Dot liked it, but for me this is the kind of music that is enjoyed mainly by the people producing it – and of course by the parents whose children were in the choirs. We had a couple of them in front of us: the woman tried various positions to get a good view of her son, including two different chairs and the stones by one of the fonts. I don’t blame her – she was quite fun to watch, and you couldn’t see much of what was happening at the front.

More chilly wind – this time at Cromer. No rest for my respiratory tract, which shows little sign of getting its act together. We popped down to the resort after church to put in an appearance at the Crab and Lobster Festival, not through any great love of shellfish but because there was a Paston tent. Most of the action there had been yesterday, but we did manage to catch Peter Stibbons (alias Admiral Clement Paston) in full costume, plus Pat Dawson in a calf-length robe which didn’t seem quite right somehow. Still, because she is from Yorkshire she managed to pull it off – if you see what I mean.

While we were there we made a length of rope (you never know when a length of rope is going to come in handy), bought a driftwood owl and a few other items and had a chat with Keith Skipper and his wife. Amazing how often Keith and I run into one another, given that he lives in Cromer and I don’t. The sun was warm, but the north-east wind was very cold. On the way back we found a restaurant called Rocky Bottoms which has been on Dot’s mind for some time after someone recommended it to her, and we had a brief meal (whitebait and goat’s cheese) before heading home.

Earlier Chris Denton had called into church after the service to talk about Anne’s funeral, and this continued for some while, including a visit to the old church with Howard and Carrie. Anne has left us a gift of a painting of St Augustine’s Church which is really rather good.

On Saturday we drove to Caddington to celebrate David’s 46th birthday. Amy and Oliver are engaged in revision for exams, but we manage to distract Amy slightly with the Royal Wedding (brilliant sermon) while David was fetching Oliver from football practice. He was wearing his Norwich City kit and had scored a few goals – he seems to be a bit of a star. We knew that, of course. Later we watched the Cup Final, much to Amy’s disgust, but before that I went for a walk on my own and discovered a path over a field and into Folly Wood. Quite enjoyable. Lovely food supplied by David; cake by Dot.

Friday was actually David’s birthday. Joe Logan came round and tuned the piano (£88), and later I went to Halesworth. A bit earlier than usual, so that I could pop in and catch Sarah Cannell’s PV at Halesworth Gallery. Very colourful, and she seemed pleased to see me. I emerged to find a crowd gathered outside Pinky’s that turned out to consist entirely of poets wanting to get in. However, for reasons unknown the proprietor failed to turn up, and eventually Sue (not the one in the picture) popped into the Swan Inn round the corner and arranged a room there for us to meet in.

This worked quite well – a bit more spacious – though there were several complaints from the usual suspects about the light not being good enough. Fate decreed that I was positioned, for the second time in five days, to follow the Beowulf lady, who does about ten or twelve minutes of Anglo-Saxon poetry to the beat of a drum. Better than it sounds, actually. I did three poems – From a Distance, Before and After, and Black Cat – which were quite well received, especially the first and last.

The previous day Dot and I went to hear Mary Chapin Carpenter and her band at the Theatre Royal – part of the Norfolk and Norwich Festival. She was on top form, and was preceded by Emily Barker, who was equally brilliant, though without The Red Clay Halo. Instead she had Lukas Drinkwater on bass and a number of other instruments, though not simultaneously. Worth a watch here for a flavour. Great evening, made greater by running into James and Anne Knox Whittet in the bar.

Seems a long time ago, but last Tuesday we had the Eagles and Howard round for a meal. We had intended to have Anna too, and had indeed invited her, but at a fairly late date she discovered she was booked into Belper. At the last minute I discovered that Mary next door was on her own, so invited her to make up the six, and it worked pretty well. The Eagles and Howard were able to talk about India together (the original idea, as they had just returned from the sub-continent, as they say on Test Match Special), while – as well as joining in – we were able to talk to Mary about various other things.

Less rain nowadays, but the past couple of days have featured a chilly wind from the north, which is not what you want at Great Yarmouth. I found myself there yesterday after late arrangements saw me dropping off the new PHS magazine at Rob’s and chatting with Penny; having tea and a roll with Jessie; giving Jessie a list to the hairdresser’s; visiting Sainsbury’s and the cemetery; picking up Jessie from the hairdresser’s; and driving to Yarmouth and dropping off Dot at the school she was visiting.

While she was visiting I went for a chilly stroll on North Denes, called in briefly at Caister Castle before calculating that I didn’t really have time to go in, and then returned to the North Denes before picking Dot up at a pre-arranged spot at 3pm. (Yarmouth has very limited pick-up parking.)

The previous day we were on the coast again – this time at Lowestoft, for the poetry cafe at the Seagull theatre. I read a bit from Isaiah 6, which as far as I’m concerned is a poem, then two poems – Send Someone Else and Not Syria. Dot and I also did a couple of songs – Here I am and The Sands of Luskentyre. Dot discovered that taking one of her air travel pills before performing removed the tension, and she was much more relaxed, and very good. Nice evening.

Earlier in the day we were torn between a talk at the Julian Centre and a tour of the Bishop’s Garden, but because the service ran late, we did neither. Carrie announced that our new interim vicar had been named –the Rev Sarah Quantrill, from Oulton Broad. Her CV etc sounded ideal; so I’m very hopeful. Happily LD’s attempt to start a discussion were thwarted, and a later convoluted e-mail from DH was widely ignored. General feeling among the congregation was very good.

Anne Travis died on Sunday morning at 4am – just reaching her 97th birthday. She had been in hospital for a few days, and her heart was failing. I had been in touch with her daughter Chris, who is  lovely person, and on Saturday afternoon she asked both of us to pray with Anne over the phone, using What’s App on speaker. Apparently this works really well in hospitals. Anne had not been responding and her eyes were closed, but the nurses said she could hear what was going on; so it was quite a privilege.

We always got on really well with Anne, who was a former theatre sister and very welcoming, usually with a joke and a story about her son Andy, who had been a choirboy in the old church.

On Saturday – just after the prayers with Anne – we went to Liz Cannon’s house on Colney Lane for her presentation about Palestine, which was very interesting, though we knew most of it. Met her sisters and cousin who, apart from her husband David and Elvira and Eleanor from church, were the only ones there. Very pleasant couple of hours.

After several attempts Naomi came round for a meal on Thursday evening. She asked me to pick her up because she was feeling a bit vague – a result of her drugs – so I put the time back because I didn’t want to be driving through the city at 6pm. All worked well, though, and we had a good meal and chat. She bought excellent chocolates.

In the event Dot was feeling better by the time we got to the restaurant. We had arrived at Hungate at 6pm for the launch party, only to discover that it was shut, and nothing was happening. This is pretty much par for the course in the Paston Footprints world: on Tuesday I had a meeting with the two other trustees, Peter and Rob, about the lack of information (among other things) and what had actually happened to make Lucy resign.

In the end Peter and I got enough information to satisfy us, though by no means all of it. I think I now have a fair idea of what is happening. However on the Saturday we played it by ear, having a drink at Cinema City and then making our way slowly up the hill to the Italian restaurant near the top of St Giles, where we awaited the Robinsons.

We had a quite pleasant, but not exceptional, meal and really average wine. Philip and Anne then gave us a lift back to our house for coffee and a chat.

On Sunday we had a joint service at St Luke’s, and Dot and I did the music with Nicky Burr. Happily I only called her “him” once, and she didn’t take offence. Really nice person, and we got on well. The Dean was less well received as she spoke about the hostility between the two churches, when there really isn’t any. She was surrounded by an angry group of women afterwards, including Dot and Anna. Suddenly, there was hostility! There was quite a lot of hostility from Dot later, when Norwich managed to lose their final match 5-1 to Sheffield Wednesday at Hillsborough.

On Bank Holiday Monday we decided on the spur of the moment to go to Blofield in the afternoon, to deliver some leaflets and go for a short walk. Very pleasant indeed: warm, but not uncomfortable.

Yesterday was a horrendously busy day, especially for Dot, who had three meetings, including an intervention board and a governors’ meeting to look at head teacher applications, which she had to chair. Both went well, although she got a bit lost on the way from Brooke to Long Stratton. She made it to Fleggburgh all right this morning and has since been painting the wall.

Yesterday I had the aforementioned meeting with Rob and Peter, following which we went and looked at the store. I had delivered Lucy’s gazebo, but that went with Rob back to his place. Glad to get rid of it. Afterwards I observed Rob being videoed for Hungate (I think).

In the evening Dot and I went (late) to Liz’s much-feared Talking Circle, which turned out to be not as bad as it might have been.

Returned yesterday from Nottingham, where we spent a few days with the Evetts. Happily the weather improved enough for us to enjoy some outings, and today we have full-on sun.  Dot has gone into the city to buy a birthday present for Anne, but she is not feeling 100%, which is a pity as we are having a meal out with the Robinsons this evening.

We travelled by train to Nottingham, and after a coffee-starved journey (I spilt Dot’s Starbucks cup while getting into our seats, and the promised trolley did not materialise) we transferred to a tram and were met by Dave at Toton Lane. Happily he had the car and was able to convey us quickly to Katherine Close, where coffee was quickly made available.

Later on we walked round the Attenborough nature reserve, where was saw something that looked like a Puna teal but may have been a ruddy duck. Afterwards we popped into a new M&S outlet to get some wine for our hosts.

On Wednesday it rained in the morning, but we trusted the forecast and travelled to Sudbury Hall, where there is a Childhood Museum. Happily, the rain stopped by the time we got there, and the museum was extremely interesting: nostalgia field day.  We walked round the grounds despite the chilly wind and ended up in the cafe next door, where I had a small apple crumble with summer fruits ice cream, which was delicious. The others had cake. Let them eat it, I say.

In the evening Julia cooked an interesting main course of chicken with tomatoes, which tasted as good as it looked.

The next day we drove to Carsington Water and after tea in the cafe walked to Carsington village (about two miles plus), where we had a baguette lunch in the Miners Arms which, to its credit, does not allow dogs in. We walked back to the car, feeling ever warmer, and then drove to Allestree, home of Alan and Rosemary, where we had tea and cake. Both of them looked rather frail, and in fact Rosemary is weakening, and Alan’s cancer has returned after a long gap. They have accepted our invitation to the golden wedding celebration at Dereham in June; I hope they will be able to make it.

In the evening we went to a posh restaurant called La Rock and had a very pleasant if expensive meal. As usual the amuse-bouches were best, but the wine was good too, as was my fillet of beef.

Yesterday we walked up to the garden centre by a circuitous route to get our steps up, and had a tea in the coffee house. Dot admired the olive trees. After lunch back at the house, we were driven to the tram stop, and Dave and Julia accompanied us all the way to the platform at Nottingham Station. We had half an hour to spare, during which they moved the train to a different platform. A fellow-traveller felt it was fortunate they did not have a brewery. Ho, ho.

Very crowded train from Nottingham, but Dot snatched us a couple of seats, and a lot of people got off at Grantham, after which there was more space. Spent a lot of time reading a book that David Coomes had given me: Whisky in Small Glasses, by Denzil Meyrick, which is a thriller set in Scotland. In the adjacent seat a young male dancer spent a great deal of time telling a mature lady all about his (exhausting) life so far.

We got into Norwich not long after 6pm and discovered we were both very tired. I unpacked my car, but Dot sat down, mainly.