Back in Norwich with much less snow than forecast – almost none, in fact. Nevertheless, we have put the MX5 in the garage to protect its battery, and Dot will travel to Sutton for an Ofsted feedback this afternoon in the better equipped car. The temperature is quite low, and there is an ice warning.

What do I mean by back in Norwich? Well, at 4am on Monday I was woken by a call from Walsgrave Hospital in Coventry. Andrew had been admitted with some kind of infection, and they were worried about him – largely, I think, because he was very agitated. I rang the hospital back in the morning and got very little further, having been passed backwards and forwards between A&E, switchboard and Ward 12.

The journey was pretty straightforward, apart from the usual crawl on the A14 near Cambridge, and I was at the hospital, managing to park, by just after 2pm. At last I found out where he actually was – Ward 12 – and found him in a four-bedded room, very agitated and with diarrhoea as well as pneumonia and probably UTI, not to mention borderline sepsis. They were having quite a bit off difficulty with him, but I managed to help a little bit, mainly by calling a nurse when necessary.

I stayed for about 90 minutes or more and then left to book a room at a nearby Premier Inn, because he didn’t seem at all well, and I thought there was a real risk he could die overnight. One of the doctors asked me about resuscitation. Got a hotel room OK and then managed to lose the door key. I still don’t know where it is, but fortunately the woman at reception was having a cigarette round the back while I was looking for it, and she said it happened all the time and gave me another one. Key card, not cigarette.

Dot had packed me a picnic lunch, which proved enough for that day. I returned to the hospital, found it much easier to park but just as hard to pay for (which is another story) and returned to Andrew, who seemed even worse. He had pulled out his cannula, and his diarrhoea was worse; so he kept trying to get out of bed.

This was not my idea of a good time. The nurses did what they could but were short-staffed. Eventually I returned to the hotel and to Lorna (the receptionist), who had to help me get through the entrance door; so you can tell I was not myself. I also had a bad knee and sore back. I don’t know why, but I was hobbling about. I tried to get a good night’s sleep, but of course didn’t, really.

Very cold the next morning, and I had a surprisingly warm bath and then went over to the Brewer’s Fayre for breakfast, which was quite acceptable. Just before 9am, and only a couple of us were partaking. The tea was good too, once I could get the hot water to work.

I had been told that hospital visiting hours started at 11am; so I thought arriving at 10.30 would mean parking was easy. How wrong I was. I did a complete tour of the car park and campus before striking lucky at the second attempt, managing to edge in rather untidily. I went up to Ward 12, where Andrew had been moved into a side room and was very quiet, presumably because he had been sedated. He was able to speak, though, and seemed pleased to see me.

I spoke to a nurse, who promised to tell a doctor I was there, but then Helen from Minster Lodge arrived, with Claire (a new carer), who were both all over Andrew. As I was worried about the snow forecast for later in the day, I left him in their hands. They promised to keep an eye on him while he was in there, and they are lovely. So they will.

The drive back went very well. I stopped at Cambridge Services, which requires quite a large diversion at the moment, and still got home in not much more than 2 hours and 30 minutes – including getting petrol from Morrisons when I arrived. I got home just before Dot, who had been to see her aunt and visit the cemetery (it was her mum’s birthday).

Felt pretty exhausted and with a very sore back. Watched some TV, spoke to Phil on the phone, ate a lovely meal cooked by Dot and watched some TV before going to bed. This morning got up late. The forecast snow had not appeared.

Compared to all that, the weekend was almost sedentary. I fasted till 6pm in solidarity with the “prayer and fasting for Britain” event at Wembley arena. Watched a bit of this (it was streamed on YouTube), but can’t say I was terribly impressed. That’s probably my fault.

In the evening we had a lovely time at Des and Chris’s with Sean, Ciara, Freddie and Phoebe; John, Daniel and Sophia from no 15; and Luke and Michelle. Good wine, food and conversation. Nice service at church on Sunday: put up a picture and fixed the caption for Ann Travis’s photo. Sarah asked me if I wanted to be an authorised worship assistant; and I said yes if she thought so. She did.

My article for the Diocesan Magazine is now done and dusted, and I think, approved, though I got into some confusion with the editor this morning about ear syringing. It turned out to be an unrelated query. Interestingly, the only person who wanted to change what I wrote about them was Liz, who asked me to alter the bit about her “work for Palestinians” into “work for Palestinians and Israelis”, which rather removed the controversial element. I decided to keep her quotes in, though.

Found myself in a meeting at Blofield Rectory last Thursday, having been invited by Barbara Pilch. Also there were Matt, Rob, the Rector and both the PIlches, and we discussed how Footprints and Blofield could help each other. Will be looking at my leaflet again to alter it to fit Footprints style, and am also involved in wording a display board inside the church, underneath the Edward Paston monument.

The meeting happened after Linda cut our hair (postponed for two days).

The next day Dot and I went to see Jessie, and I cancelled a projected visit to Halesworth poets because things had got a bit late for it to work (we hadn’t finished our evening meal in time). Instead I watched Norwich City play Birmingham on NOW TV while Dot went to see it in person. It was pretty cold: I walked there with her and ran into electrician Luke on the way back. We had a brief discussion about him fixing our kitchen lights, and as a result I feel confident that it will happen. Of course it would have happened anyway, but now it might be sooner. Norwich won 3-1 – all the goals coming in the first 20 minutes or so. The second half was pretty boring, actually.

On Sunday our son departed for three weeks in Canada, arriving at an exciting -20C. It wasn’t quite that cold here, but we have been scraping windows and feeling the chill. I led the service, and in the evening we went to the Seagull, where I did a new song, Passing Through, and an old one, The Rolling Hills of Pakefield, both with Dot on violin. Kaaren read a poem about Dot, which rather embarrassed her, but it was quite a compliment, because she loves Dot’s violin playing. I also read three poems – Climber, Epiphany and I will not write a poem. The last is about Jessie, who we went to see again yesterday, on her 86th birthday. Still frail, but clinging on.

Before visiting Jessie I went to see Dr Hampsheir, who explained the advantages of a lesser-strength statin in a non-pressing way. Turns out that if I took it, my cholesterol would reduce and I would have a 23% chance of dying in the next ten years, instead of 30%, as I have now. I’m thinking about it, but not much.

After returning from North Walsham I walked up to Boots to have my eyes tested. The optometrist was pretty thorough, and it seems I’m Ok. He suggested I could get some slightly improved lenses if I wanted to, and today I met Dot out of Presto (where she was lunching with Sue Eagle and Pam) and went and chose some frames, with help from Amy, an assistant who was as lovely as her name suggests, although not quite as stunning as my granddaughter.

After that I got some petrol, then drove Dot up to the Julian Hospital to see Maryta, where she managed to gain entrance at the third attempt. Maryta was not too bad. While they talked I was walking round the cemetery and making an amazing discovery: that it was not a separate cemetery but the back of the Earlham Crematorium. You would have to know the road set-up and the size of it all to understand why this was not obvious, but I felt sadly diminished, because my sense of direction is usually one of my strong points, and this had never occurred to me.

Dismal morning – very dull indeed, cold and with drizzle in the air. Got up anyway and finished my article for the Diocesan Magazine. Have now sent out quotes to four people for approval, though I don’t really have any doubt that I quoted them accurately. Some people get worried when they see themselves in print and decide they meant something a little different, which can be awkward. Still, I aim to please.

Yesterday was quite busy: as well as writing more of the article, I interviewed a professor from UEA who was born on July 12 1948 and with whom I must therefore have much in common (mustn’t I?). She gave me some fairly high-powered quotes, which fitted the article nicely. Earlier in the day, after our haircuts had been postponed (to tomorrow), Dot and I went to see Stan and Ollie, which was excellent after a slowish start. Steve Coogan was particularly good, but I also liked the wives (“almost a double double act”, as one of the characters said.

While we were eating steak in front of Pointless, M decided to come round and tell us about the visit of the Dementia Support Team, which she felt was also pointless, though I’m not sure how much credence can be placed on her report. In the evening we took Judy to the Archers for Cake and Compline, which went so well we didn’t leave till 10.40, and David was still awake.

The day before we had visited Jessie. Having heard from Roger on the Sunday that she was now in bed and unlikely to be very responsive, we anticipated a brief visit, but it didn’t turn out like that. When we arrived we met Freda, who was also just arriving to visit her. We offered to go to Sainsburys first (we had planned to go afterwards) and so did our shopping before returning to see Jessie, who had another visitor – Jackie – who said Jessie had “sent Freda packing” because she didn’t want her to see her like that.

Jackie left shortly afterwards, and Jessie turned out to be surprisingly alert, though we had to take a break while she was taken to the loo after eating a fig we’d brought her (not sure there was any connection). We stayed for about 90 minutes before taking flowers to the cemetery and then driving home so that I could call another contributor to my article – a Green Party guy.

On Sunday I had interviewed Liz Cannon on the spur of the moment and got a couple of good quotes from her. This was after a nice Communion service led by Phil and with a good sermon from Sarah – inspired by our PCC Awayday at Thorpe Hamlet parish church on Saturday, which ended up on a very positive note with both churches finding they had more in common than they had thought. Dot had an inspired moment that brought tears to Sarah’s eyes – in a good way.

I walked up there and walked back through the cemetery. I am determined to keep my steps up. It was quite a pleasant day – not too cold, and fairly still.

Last Saturday David brought Oliver and his friend Cameron up to watch Norwich play Portsmouth in the FA Cup third round. David, Dot and I sat together not far from where Dot usually sits, and the boys sat in the middle of the Barclay end, which was a bit of a risk, but it turned out OK.

Norwich evened things up by getting a man (Hanley) sent off early in the first half, but after that it could have gone either way. In the end Norwich got a taste of their own medicine, with Portsmouth scoring the only goal in the 95th minute. No complaints, really. D, O and C returned to Caddington immediately afterwards, taking in a McDonald’s at Thickthorn on the way. O and C thence progressed to Aylesbury (presumably via a lift from Cameron’s father or mother).

On Sunday I did an Epiphany sermon that seemed quite well received, despite my pointing out that the wise men had very little to do with Christmas. Liz Cannon seems fully recovered after her pre-Christmas drama (see earlier post), but Christine doesn’t seem well. Phil Kerrison’s mother-in-law at Cambridge has died.

On Monday I just remembered to go for a blood test at the surgery. The results came back very quickly, and yesterday morning I got a text asking me to make an appointment at the surgery. Bit worrying, but in fact it turned out to be just a bit too much cholesterol, probably a bad reading because I hadn’t fasted as I was apparently supposed to. Don’t remember this being mentioned until shortly before my arm was pierced. I declined an appointment with Dr R, whose sole aim in life is to dispense pills, and am now trying to get one with Dr Carlile, who sent me for the blood test in the first place. This of course is easier said than done.

In the car park I was hailed by a cheery Bridget, who seemed very pleased to see me. But then she is like that: a really nice person.

Later that day we went to see Jessie and found her asleep as usual. When she woke she was pretty alert mentally, but she is getting frailer and frailer and needs a lot of help going to the loo, for instance. Her hearing is really bad; so Dot has started writing down what she wants to say, and this worked pretty well.

Tuesday was busy, and cold. In fact the past week has been very chilly, and now the wind has got up, with some flooding and erosion at Walcott and Winterton. Dot and I made it to the Archant coffee morning, where we spoke mainly to Tricia and Brian – Robin being absent with depression. Afterwards we bought a mattress cover from John Lewis and then walked down to Pottergate, where we had lunch in the Iron House with Paul, at his invitation (and expense). I had a pleasant cheese omelette, and we discussed the recent exploits of M, who seems to have given up calling on us.

In the afternoon Dot went with Carrie to Ditchingham and bought a sideboard from Emmaus for the church hall. It will be delivered later in the month. I made a start on my article for the Diocesan Magazine, and when Dot returned we went to see The Favourite, billed as a comedy about Queen Anne but in fact more of a tragedy with funny moments. This had won a Golden Globe for Norfolk-born Olivia Colman, who was brilliant, but we both felt the film itself was not outstanding, though good.  It also made Dot look up stuff about Queen Anne, which proved interesting.

There was rain, too. Not forecast, and no apology from the weather person on Look East.

Yesterday Dot went up to pay a cheque into the bank, and I went with her in case of technical difficulties, but it proved straightforward. Afterwards she did a bit of shopping (bought me some new pyjamas) and I took a long way home and posted her DNA at the sorting office. Am managing to keep my steps up this week, but today may prove problematical. Yesterday I wrote more of my article for the Mag and e-mailed requests for a couple of potential quotes. Dot was back at orchestra after the winter break.

It has got a lot colder. I am just back from a walk up in the Riverside area to drag my steps total up towards respectability. This was after completing my sermon this morning.

Dot meanwhile spent the night near Pangbourne in Berkshire, close to what I am assured by Phil Kerrison is a nice chalk stream. Her main reason for being there was P4C, however. After sleeping at Heron Farm, she and Barbara spent this morning delivering their training to 46 teachers at St Andrew’s private school. As I write, she is on the M25 and appears to be heading for the M11, which means she’ll be home in a couple of hours. There was a chance that she’d call in to see David, but the traffic is apparently not as bad as expected.

While she was tucking in to lasagne and chips at the local pub last night, I was at Howard’s for a DCC meeting, which again dragged on. I walked there and was given a lift home by Judy, who almost dropped me next to a prostitute on Rosary Road but thought better of it. It was 10.30pm. I went straight to bed. Earlier I had taken Dot’s car for a drive to the survey (where I dropped off my blood pressure chart) and Morrison’s.

The previous day the two of us made it out to North Walsham to see Jessie, who had been suffering from shingles, which was apparently so painful that she hardly noticed we hadn’t been to see her for a while. In fact both Dot and I were slightly less than 100% over Christmas, but thankfully not so bad that it marred our enjoyment of the family. While we were with Jessie, Roger and Debbie turned up, which was nice. I popped out for a few minutes to deliver a cheque for signing by Rob: Peter had left it very late to sign off the accounts, and letters and e-mails were flying backwards and forwards.

Back to New Year’s Day, where we woke fairly late. There was some uncertainty about when David, Oliver and Amy were going home (we originally thought it was after breakfast, but it turned out to be nearly 8pm); so there were a couple of rather makeshift meals which turned out to be nice. Amazingly, during the morning the 1000-word puzzle was completed, to much celebration. I was pretty impressed. During the rest of the day there was too much football on TV and radio for Amy’s liking. I could see her point.