That week went by pretty quickly. Perhaps because the weather was so awful much of the time. Very, very wet: not in a Cockermouth way, but persistently precipitating enough to really irritate. To be fair, there were some bright spells in between. Yesterday I went to the funeral of David Wright, a co-member of a Christian Writers’ group I used to belong to. Absolutely packed church, with a couple of dozen standing, and afterwards stunning afternoon sun over Mulbarton common. Lots of hymns – he was something of a hymns fanatic, though a bit of a polymath really. He and his wife wrote the Philip’s Children’s Atlas, which has sold millions. I quite enjoy funerals: there’s something uplifting about them. OK, I am weird.
The wheels are back on Dot’s car. Wicked Wheels returned them early – on Tuesday instead of Wednesday – and they did a great job. Really look like new. Quite a relief to have the car mobile again, and not looking as if it’s been vandalised.
Busy day yesterday: Dot was up at the surgery twice, seeing two different nurses about the skin on her arm. It turns out to be not serious: probably a fungal infection. Meanwhile I was seeing a physiotherapist – a former Norwich City FC physiotherapist, in fact, called Tim Sheppard. He gave my ankle a very thorough examination, and thinks the problem is that the muscle in my right leg is much weaker than the one in my left, possibly the result of my breaking the ankle while playing badminton centuries ago. Anyway, I have a series of exercises which should build it up and stop me falling over. After this I went to Mulbarton for the funeral while Dot went into the city. We got together again just after 3pm to visit her cousin Roger in his new place on the Heartsease estate. Really liked his house. Being an architect, he has managed to introduce some lovely touches. Then back home for supper before emerging again to go to the Bally Art Fair. Bought a few things as presents – some from Rupert, who seemed in good form. Mike’s big drawings were on show and looked terrific. Met Ali Whittle, and a few other people we know.
On Wednesday we went out to North Norfolk, first to visit Lucy at Paston, then on to the cemetery and later picking up Jessie from the bus stop before having afternoon tea and mice pies (and sausage rolls) at hers. Lucy is much better in between chemo. Her father had a heart attack which alarmed everyone, but he is now recovering, it seems. Very resilient guy. Bet he makes it to 100.
This morning there was a mysterious crash as I was about to get out of bed. It appeared to have been caused by a large bird hitting the kitchen window, though no sign of an injured or dead bird outside. I took a picture of the imprint on the window, which came out quite well. Of course it could have been a small angel, though I suspect an angel would have seen the window and avoided it – or maybe just passed through.