Feeling rather battered. No, Dot hasn’t taken to beating me up: I’ve just spent three days doing largely physical work, which is pretty unusual, and my body is feeling the effects. It’s 5pm, and I already feel ready for bed. Not that I shall go to bed, of course. That would be ridiculous. Anyway, the physical work is over for a while.
It started on Thursday, when I was called on to go to Oxburgh Hall, to help take the Paston exhibition down. Lucy was so ill that she had to go to bed, and Jo Berry was concerned that she and her husband would have to do it all on their own. I, meanwhile, had been intending to help Dot set up St Luke’s for the visit of John Bell, from Iona, who was coming down for a two-day event. I also wanted to see the Tour of Britain sweep through Norwich, so it seemed impossible to fit everything in, as the artists who might have helped at Oxburgh (Annette, Mike, Martin) were down in Brighton for an exhibition there. In the end, Dot said she could manage without me in the morning, and I drove to Oxburgh (about an hour away), arriving about 10.30am. I took all the pictures down and cleared the screens before anyone else arrived, and we managed to get everything done by noon, when Teri arrived with help to take away her heavy stained glass piece.
After a cup of tea I made the journey home, arriving just after 1pm, in time for a quick lunch before walking with Dot down to Riverside Road to take up position for the ToB cyclists to arrive. We were there for about half an hour with nothing much happening, but then a squadron of motor cycles swept through, clearing vehicles out of the way ruthlessly, and the first two cyclists arrived rather suddenly. I just had time to snatch a picture before they were away. It was another five minutes before the peloton came through and I got some more pictures. They were followed by all the team cars, having a great time screeching around the Foundry Bridge corner.Then they were gone, and things returned to normal. Amazing organisation really. There was a King of the Mountains section on Mousehold, which must have been more King of the Molehill, I should imagine. The two leaders seemed far out of reach of the others, but by the time they reached Yarmouth they had been caught, and the stage was won by a sprinter.
In the afternoon, Dot and I returned to St Luke’s to finish setting up, then went to Morrisons to get extra provisions. The next day these proved woefully insufficient, and I went first to Lidls and then to Spar to supplement what we had. Even that was not enough: more milk was obtained by Anna later in the day: we used about 35 pints of milk each day for the 140 people attending the event. And that was just in tea and coffee. No food was supplied.
Anyway, back to Thursday evening. Dot and I got to the cathedral early to distribute leaflets, which proved quite wearing on the back, as there were about 450 chairs to cover, and four leaflets per chair. The session led by John Bell (Different Voices, Same Song – exploring the nature of harmony in community, using music as a metaphor) was brilliant. Despite bring very tired, I was completely captivated and surprised how soon it ended: it was in fact about 90 minutes.
He was also superb in a different way at St Luke’s. Very easy to listen to: he has a relaxed style and a Scottish accent, with a great sense of humour. He spoke mainly using stories, which as one or two people remarked was rather like the parabolic method of Jesus. Quite radical, but compelling in what he said because his aim was not to provide convincing arguments, but to express a point of view which we might be interested in. As a result, we were. His sane comments about caring for the earth, equality for everyone, generosity and concern for exploitation of people in other parts of the world were mixed with amusing stories about the nature of Christianity and the need to avoid confrontation over issues of theology and who is right. A very likeable man, without any pretensions, and also a gifted musician who could get everyone singing using only his voice (and an occasional burst on piano). On a very superficial level reminded me a bit of Denis Lawson in Local Hero.
Being helpers proved quite demanding, but we managed to hear a lot of what he said, and he was the sort of man you wished everyone could hear. Dot and I had to pay another visit to Morrisons for provisions on the Friday evening, and we followed this by having a meal at Prezzo’s, since that involved little effort. The clearing up on the Saturday was particularly tiring, as many of the helpers had to leave early and there was a lot of furniture moving to accomplish. Did I mention Dot was in charge of all this? She got a public thank-you and two bottles of rather pleasant red wine, one of which we sampled today.
Of course the previous Saturday was even more significant, as it was Oliver’s eighth birthday. What a star! Dot and I drove down in the morning and met David, Oliver and Amy at the Harvester on the A5 – a favourite eating place of the children. They didn’t know we were coming and were pleased to see our car in the car park. Nice moment. Pleasant meal, and then back to the house for the afternoon, until Vicky arrived to pick them up about 5pm. We stayed for a few hours for tea with David , and then drove home. It was good to see Oliver on his birthday. He got an iPod Touch from his Dad and a variety of things from us. He is growing up fast, as children do.
A couple of other things last week: I performed badly in our pre-season chess tournament, scoring only 2/6 in a rapid-play event, and then visited Kathleen on Tuesday at Dereham Hospital, where she was sent for rehabilitation. She is doing very well. I managed to get in touch with her stepdaughter after failing at first on the number she’d given me. I used the mobile number Paul obtained from Kathleen later in the week. I now have her e-mail address. Hope I’ve got that right.
Among the people at the John Bell event were Claire, nee Osborne, daughter of Andy and niece of Lily from Surrey Chapel days; Di Barrell and her husband, parents of former EDP trainee Nicky and friends of Marion WIlliams; and Bridget Fosten, second wife of Ian Fosten, who we knew as governor of Tuckswood and from visiting him in Lindisfarne many, many years ago.