It’s getting warmer, and I’ve been doing some work on the Paston Timeline, which unexpectedly proved quite interesting. This is half-term week, which means there have been a lot of children around, and on Tuesday Dot and I went to see Endgame, the last of the Avengers series, to find that the cinema was packed. Happily, we were early enough to get reasonable seats.

The film itself was very good in parts, but slow in others, especially near the beginning. It ran to over three hours and could easily have been edited. I liked the angel but still don’t really get the point of Captain America. The whole thing is very US-centered of course: there are six hidden stones, and three of them are in New York. Really?

On a slightly different level, we went to St Andrew’s Hall last Saturday to hear the Britten Sinfonia perform Beethoven’s Ninth. I drove Dot up because her feet were hurting, then took the car home and walked back. We walked home together, and she was OK. The evening started with a modern piece featuring the most amazing performance by a soprano I’ve ever heard. Excellent evening altogether.

The next day I went into church early while Dot parked the car – probably not a good idea as I got into a discussion about thermostats. People don’t seem to realise that if you turn the thermostat down (and open the windows), it may mean that the heat is reduced to a more comfortable level immediately, but by halfway through it is decidedly chilly, because the thermostat doesn’t miraculously turn itself up again.

Afterwards Dot and I went to Mannington Hall for the launch of the Paston cycle route. It had turned very rainy, though not cold, and the open gardens that were part of the event were a bit of a washout. Not a good day for Lord and Lady Walpole, because they had been involved in a car crash earlier and had serious injuries. Dot found this out in a talk with their son Henry, who was standing in as host as well as being very worried about his parents. Also present: Matt and Rebecca, Rob (as John Fenn) and Penny, Carole and her husband, and Peter Stibbons with his siege engines.

One of the reasons we were there was to pick up the display boards to transport them eventually to Lucy, who wants them for an event in June. I hadn’t quite grasped that we would have to wait till the end, because the boards were in use, but fortunately the rain forced an early finish, and we were able to get away before 4pm. Since then I’ve mended the boxes they’re in with duck tape and packed them ready for taking to Lucy in ten days’ time.

On bank holiday Monday were were invited to a barbecue at Luke and Michelle’s new home on Reepham Road. We took Des and Chris, and to our surprise there were only five other people there: Luke, Michelle, her mother (who also lives there), and two of Luke’s mates from work. The barbecue was very good, despite the intermittent rain, and afterwards we watched the Championship play-off final between Aston Villa and Derby – won 2-1 by Villa.

The next day the plumber came round, and the two small jobs both turned out to be very difficult. Dot and I made an unsuccessful trip to the plumbers’ merchants on Kett’s Hill, and eventually the kitchen tap was put together again with no change – but it doesn’t drip so much. If we decide to buy new bits online, the plumber will put them in for free. He didn’t have much more luck with the sink in the shower room, eventually ending up with an old-fashioned plug because the original was not mendable.

On Wednesday we combined collecting my pills with going to the charity shop, Morrisons, and the Norwich City shop. While at the latter we noticed that some big event was looming at Carrow Road. It turned out to be a Take That concert, which I blame for blocking our Netflix the following evening. The next day Anne and Dot went into the city, and I did more work on the Timeline, as well as writing an article for my website.

This morning I woke up late and was fetching a cup of tea for Dot when I was interrupted by the window cleaner. He was profusely apologetic. I’m not sure what for.

Back from four-day excursion to Toton, where the weather was reasonably warm (occasionally very warm), ideal for walking. We travelled up on Monday, curious to see if any progress had been made on the A14. In fact there was a slight improvement at the Cambridge end, but a big hold-up where it crossed the A1, caused partly by a convoluted temporary road and partly by the fact that a lorry had come off it, blocking one lane.

We made an unprecedented stop at the service station in the middle of it, which had an extremely complicated layout causing us to travel against a one-way sign to find the bit we wanted, which in this case happened to be a Starbucks where Dot found she liked my mint tea blend, and we had a sandwich and a muffin.

More confusion as we neared Toton, when Dot thought she’d put in satnav directions to Katherine Drive. Not sure what actually happened, but it took us off the motorway a junction early (we thought there might be a hold-up ahead) and then by a tortuous route into Nottingham and a mysterious unknown “destination”. At this point we gave up and I followed signs to the A52, which obviously worked.

On arrival we walked up to the garden centre by the usual circuitous route and had a cup of tea, then returned for an evening meal.

The next tea we drove to Derby for a cup of tea with Alan and Rosemary, then accompanied them to the Cock Inn at Mugginton for a very nice meal of fish and chips. Beautiful situation with a lovely view. Afterwards A & R went home and the remaining four of us went to Kedleston Hall (NT), where we enjoyed a lovely walk in the grounds and ended up inevitably at the cafe, outside.

On Wednesday our goal was a little further away – Clumber Park (NT). There we walked round the walled garden and greenhouses and discovered that they grew 130 varieties of rhubarb and 150 types of apple. The prospects for crumble were almost limitless. Afterwards we had a snack in the Tea Garden cafe, which was very nice but took an awful long time to arrive. Undeterred, we proceeded on a walk along the side of the lake, intending to circumnavigate it, but it proved too big. We took some picture at a beautiful spot at one end , then returned to the pleasure gardens , where there were a large number of geese with goslings, both Canada and Greylag. Also some fairly bold squirrels.

After more tea in the main cafe we visited a small museum and then the shop before heading home. In the evening we took a taxi to Vivo, an Italian restaurant in a run-down part of Stapleford, where we had a stunning meal, both Dot and I pronouncing the sauce the best we had ever tasted. And it was different sauce! Mine was on fillet steak wrapped in parma ham and hers was on fish.

We returned home on Thursday, but not before going to Attenborough, where we viewed sand martins at close quarters and then had a drink outside, where it proved too hot for both Dot and myself: we moved inside. Then we took a short walk down to the river and back (a scenario Julia rarely entertains) before having lunch at Katherine Drive and then heading home.

We called in to see Andrew, who seemed remarkably well, and then proceeded home by way of our new favourite services, Brampton Hut Starbucks. This time we were not confused, and the traffic was not a problem. Amazing how things change. We were home by about 7.30 after filling up with petrol and then voting.

We slept late yesterday, and I contacted a plumber, who came round just as we wanted to leave to visit Maryta on our Paul-in-Israel schedule. But it worked out all right: the journey through the city was surprisingly easy, and we got there before her carer David arrived back with her from Allison’s. Dot took her for a very short walk in Tyrrels Wood (her feet are hurting) while I did some walking in the sun in her garden, and then wrote a poem. We ate fish and chips with her and stayed till just after 7.30pm.

Weather has taken a turn for the worse over the last week, with quite a bit of rain and not much heat. But there have been brighter intervals. It started in darkness, when Tenebrae (get it?) put on a choral concert at the Cathedral on Monday as part of the Norfolk and Norwich Festival. Beautifully done, but a bit like prog-rock in that the precision and excellent technique come at the expense of being not very interesting. Very few words were audible, and it all sounded a bit the same. I felt it could have done with a film in front of it.

On Tuesday we were expecting the gas man to come and service our boiler and radiators, but it turned out to be a woman – Lucy from Yorkshire, who combined being shy with being talkative – no mean feat. Gave her a cup of tea and had a chat. She admired our old boiler, as most gas persons do.

Dot was in the city at the time. Later we went out to North Walsham to take Rob’s projector back and put some flowers in the cemetery ( it was Dot’s father’s birthday). Later still we walked up to the church hall with four bottles of wine for a birthday party for Carrie, Judy, Sophie and Martin Wyatt. They are not quadruplets, but were all born around the same time. Anna organised it, and it went remarkably well considering that Carrie, Judy and Sophie are the people who usually organise parties. Martin and Matt (Williams) both brought their wives, who we did not know. Vicky came, and the Archers would have come, but they were too late leaving Cambridge. Chris Denton also came, and Dot and I spent quite a bit of time talking to her: she didn’t know many other people, but it was also the anniversary (roughly) of her mother’s death and – coincidentally – her mother’s funeral. Her mother was Anne Travis, who had been our longest-serving member.

On Friday we went round to see Maryta and Joe – her son – who had come to keep an eye on her while Paul is in Israel with Holly. Maryta was her usual self but Joe was amazingly laid back. We were allowed three-quarters of an hour before Maryta decided they ought to take the dog for a walk.

We were back in good time to have our hair cut by Linda (a rearranged appointment), and later still I drove to Halesworth for a poetry reading at the Swan. I left Norwich early – fortunately, as the road was closed again and I had to negotiate an alternative route. Quite a good evening – about 18 people there – and I read my poem about birdwatching in Costa Rica, which was based on an excursion by one of the other poets, who maybe fortunately wasn’t there! Drove home on the main road, which I normally avoid because of the ludicrous speed limit. No, I mean really ludicrous. At Halesworth it was dry, but by the time I got home, it was very wet again.

Saturday was the highlight of the week, because we celebrated another birthday – David’s – by driving to Caddington, having a delicious lunch prepared by Amy and then (after champagne) all going to Spice, the Indian restaurant. In between we saw the first half of the Cup Final, which Manchester City won 6-0, and played an ingenious geographical game invented by Amy. Oliver is about a third of the way through his GCSEs, but showing no signs of tension. Dot drove down and I drove back, arriving just after 11pm. The house in Caddington looked terrific. The garden has been done, and the oven cleaned. We brought DavId’s training bicycle home, left it in the car overnight and put it in the garage this morning, after church.

I had preached at church on love , and although I didn’t feel as confident as I sometimes do, everyone seemed to like it. I even read one of my poems at the beginning of it. The rest of the day we have, one way or another, been preparing to go to Nottingham tomorrow. We cleaned the car inside and out. Still spots of rain, but the forecast is much better.

Yet another busy few days, as winter turns reluctantly into spring, rather too late for my liking. Last Tuesday we started with the wild excitement of the Paston annual meeting, for which we had a not-so-grand total of ten people, three of whom were the trustees, two their wives, and another couple of married couples. The re-enactors are falling by the wayside at an alarming rate, with only Diana hanging on grimly.

The meeting this year was at the chilly St Nicholas Room, North Walsham, with only an echo of our usual hotel refreshments (though to be fair, the hotel in question recently got an extremely low hygiene rating, which probably meant they hadn’t filled the right forms in). Not much business, except to report on the über-project.

On Wednesday Dot and I got up ludicrously early to get to Swaffham for a Mothers’ Union meeting, at which I spoke about the Pastons, using a projector I had borrowed from Rob. Despite my misgivings, it went extremely well, and the feedback was really good. Afterwards Julia and Allan stood us lunch at the George nearby, which consisted of a very pleasant fish and chips. Dot got so excited she left her umbrella behind, and Julia retrieved it and brought it into Norwich the next day (she was coming anyway with her friend from Crete, who had been at the talk).

The next day we had another excellent meal, this time at the Ivy, to mark Philip’s 79th birthday. Anne and Philip were also there, of course. I had a minute steak and an excellent strawberry sundae. Meanwhile the Norfolk and Norwich Festival was being launched by a man walking a high wire across the market place. We missed it.

The weather had been pretty cold, and there had been plenty of rain, but we managed to avoid most of it. It was still spotting as we set out for Duck End on Saturday for another Otterspool reunion. Dot drove, and we had a little trouble finding the entrance to Pete and Liz’s house as usual, but it’s a really brilliant spot: a rambling old house and an equally rambling garden which is a lot of fun to explore and must take them all their time to look after. Pete also has a Lagonda, an E-type and another classic car.

We took the cheese, plus some champagne to celebrate our 50th – rather belatedly. But it seemed appreciated, and we had a great afternoon. Unusual to have a group of friends stretching back over 50 years who rarely see each other but get on really well when they do. Present: Liz and Pete, Dot and Tim, Jan and Alan, Jacqui and Brian, Bob and Sue, Ruth, Jeannie, Christine. Ruth and Jeannie left their husbands at home, and Christine’s is dead, as are two of the girls: Jan Kidd and Liz Coxon.

Yesterday, another gathering of family and friends, this time to celebrate David Archer’s birthday. His wife Bridget had booked a tour round the gardens of Oxnead Hall, and we gave a lift there to Howard, Anna and Judy after church, which I led in the absence of Phil. We had to work hard to get there by 2.30pm, but some were later. The tour was led by Beverly Aspinall, the owner, and she did it very well after recognising me and apologising for any Paston historical mistakes in advance! She was pretty good, except for the 15C, when the Pastons didn’t really live at Oxnead very much .

There were well over 30 of us: unsurprisingly, Bridget had been not entirely precise in her booking, and so the tea in the orangery was a bit short on chairs and place settings, but the cake and tea were first class. We only lost one child in the lake, and he was pulled out by his father. Howard, not untypically, brought with him the mammoth catalogue published by the Castle Museum to go with its exhibition, and carted it all round the gardens with him, despite its weight. Anna is keen to book Oxnead Hall for Bethany’s wedding. Not sure what Bethany thinks.

The weather was perfect: sunny and not too hot, as it is today. I have popped over to Blofield to find a memorial stone that I had lost track of (Colonel John), and later we are going to the Cathedral for a concert. Earlier this morning Paul came round with Maryta, who was her normal (ill) ratty self. Holly has returned safely from the Himalayas, where she had a good time (Paul) / bad time (Maryta).

Harry and Meghan’s attempt to upstage Norwich City’s stunning Championship-winning achievement by producing a royal baby yesterday fell sadly short. About 20,000 people attended Carrow Road in the afternoon for the testimonial match of Russell Martin and Wes Houlihan, which took place large in persistent rain, and for some reason I was one of them. OK, it was to support my wife. Since you ask, Wes’s team beat Russell’s team 7-4.

The first team and hangers-on did a tour of the ground first, but by the time we’d found our way in we just caught the end of it. This didn’t matter too much, as Dot had walked into the city earlier to see the Norwich City bus as it reached Tombland. It wasn’t raining then, but I was in North Walsham to pick up a projector from Rob for my talk at Swaffham on Thursday.

Inside Carrow Road, hardly anyone mentioned the royal baby.

The Canaries’ Championship triumph had been confirmed the previous day, not long after my sermon at St Augustine’s. The day and time of the key final match away to Aston Villa had been switched to lunchtime on Sunday, but I had already booked us into a concert at Orford Church at 4pm. The match started at 12.30pm; so Norwich scored the first goal – and Villa replied – while we were still at church, though after the service. After a quick lunch we drove south, listening to the second half on Radio Norfolk and wondering when it would fade out. We stopped just short of the Waveney Valley to listen to the last five minutes, and as we did so Vrancic scored for Norwich. Since Sheffield United were drawing with Stoke, this meant the Championship was virtually certain, and so it proved.

This put us in a good mood, of course, and we got to Orford in plenty of time, eventually parking by the side of the road in the village. The concert, by the Prometheus Orchestra, was in St Bartholomew’s Church, and because we were early we got a front-row seat, despite our lack of an upper-class accent.

The first piece was Vaughan Williams’ Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis, which is the main reason I’d booked, because Dot is a Vaughan Williams fanatic as well as a Norwich City fanatic. It was beautifully played, with the orchestra split. This was followed by a flute concerto by Damase, which was pretty amazing: the flautist was Anna Noakes – a larger-than-life character in every sense, including the shiny golden dress. She also gave a witty introduction. After the interval, during which I wandered outside for a bit, we had Mendelssohn’s fourth Symphony – also excellent: I particularly like the way he used the cellos in the second movement.

Afterwards the sun came out and we wandered round the village and then drove on to the quay, where the view was stunning, especially as the weather contrasted with the earlier part of the day. We then drove home in sunny mood, despite the appalling Suffolk drivers, who seemed to think the ludicrous speed limits were something reasonable that you had to keep to.

The previous day we had celebrated Phyllis Seaman’s 90th birthday with a party at church. Dot spent most of the day baking a very nice cake, and there was a goodly gathering. I did a bit of ferrying backwards and forwards in then car, firstly Phyllis and then Ellie, both in the company of Sophie. Not quite as easy as it sounds: Gildengate is very narrow, and they wanted to come in through the churchyard (no steps). I had to reverse quite a long way and then turn round in a narrow gap. Three times. Great fun.

Going back to the beginning of the month, Dot and I had lunch with Angela and Rodney at the Ugly Bug – now for some reason called The Lurcher – at Colton. Not a bad meal, and we had coffee afterwards chez Ellis, before hastening back to pick up Dot’s pills, which she had been a bit late ordering. At last returned the “frames” for our anniversary pictures.

On Friday we helped Paul out by having tea with Maryta while he was at the doctor’s, because the carer had to leave early. Not a problem, though Paul was delayed at the doctor’s and worried too much about getting back.

This morning (Tuesday) we had our new table delivered, and I went up to the Archant coffee morning, followed by Dot when she had got herself sorted out. Afterwards we took the old table apart and put it in the garage. Not easy, but during the process our table tennis table was admired by a local drug addict.