Yes, it is still raining. Funny you should ask. Not surprising, since April is the cruellest month. While I was staying dry by not going out the other day, however, I did make an interesting discovery in the family tree area.
For a long time I had been wondering why my father’s parents were living in Mansfield before they moved to Norwich, since his mother was born in Sheffield, and his father’s family was long established in the area immediately to the west of Peterborough (Yaxley, Normans Cross, Folkesworth…). Then I discovered when looking at newly online records that my grandmother’s parents were not from the Sheffield area: one was born in Shirebrook and the other in Kneesall. What do these two small places have in common? They are near Mansfield. What could be more natural that the newly married couple should go and live either with or near the wife’s parents’ relatives? Well, it makes sense to me.
Meanwhile, back in the 21st century, we had the church annual meeting and dinner at St Luke’s last Tuesday, while Dot was in Thames Ditton, preparing for a philosophy session. Good meal, but a longish “farewell” to John and Jean Easton, who weren’t really going anywhere, but were stepping down from several church posts because they had reached the age of 70. Took Ian and returned with both Ian and Tim Mace, managing to return the jacket TM had left at our house several weeks previously.
On Wednesday a remarkable event that turned out badly for me. I went to the doctor’s surgery to get my blood pressure checked, and arrived a quarter of an hour early, intending to go to the loo and then sit quietly, breathing deeply, until I was called into the surgery about half an hour later if I was lucky. Wouldn’t you know that I was called when I was in the loo, which obviously pushed my blood pressure up, or at least stopped it going down. Very annoying. I am now on another pill, which may be irritating my stomach. I’ve had a couple of bad nights. We shall see. What was remarkable? Being called into the surgery a quarter of an hour early. Almost unheard-of.
Despite the weather I did take part in the Reading the Past in the Landscape walk at Paston on Saturday, which was just as well, since the guy leading it didn’t know the path back from the edge of the cliff. I felt almost useful. Also climbed Stow windmill, which was nice, though greyness restricted the view. Refreshments were at Lucy’s. The confusion over St Peter Hungate has not been totally resolved, but it’s heading in the right direction. I’ve left Rob sorting out the publicity with Lucy, which seems like a plan, as the Murrays would say.
In the evening we took the Greens to Ditchingham village hall for the 40+ party of Katy Wakeley, who is the granddaughter of our former church member, Maud Lincoln, and sometimes comes to church with her mother Chris. Like Maud, Katy is mainly in a wheelchair: she has ME very badly. She got out of it to cut her cake on this occasion. Chris and Ray were also there with Phyllis, and there was some dancing to an Irish band led by Bob Brolly, which is his real name. He also broadcasts on Midlands radio. They weren’t bad, actually. I don’t know if I mentioned this, but it was raining. Hard. All evening. Bob Brolly asked me to lead the men in singing Happy Birthday. Strangely, I was not at all nervous about this. Times change.
The party food was excellent, but for some reason my stomach reacted badly to it and I was awake for much of the night. After communion this morning I didn’t feel up to going to Fakenham for Caroline’s party, so I made my excuses and stayed home. Dot is busy working on her DSSO visits for the current term.