And so we emerge from a hectic week…into another one. Dot is already out visiting schools, and I have a visit to the dentist tomorrow and to the doctor on Thursday. The latter doesn’t sound much, but it looms pretty large. There is a root canal involved.

I was in the sunny city, paying in church money, on Wednesday, when Dot called me to say Oliver and Amy wanted to come to us a day early. Naturally, a plan was quickly devised, and with Dot busy finishing a PIB (pre-inspection briefing), I set off to meet David halfway just outside Newmarket near Snailwell – a spot identified on Google maps. All went well, except that halfway there the warm and sunny day evaporated into heavy rain, and I realised I hadn’t brought my anorak or taken my guitar out of the boot. No worries, however: the rain turned back into sun before we met, and there was plenty of room for the children’s luggage.

We had a great three days with the children, despite a bad weather forecast. On the Thursday we went to Sheringham, where it was mild enough to have a picnic on the beach after Oliver and I had climbed Beeston Bump (calling in at Fred’s caravan on the way and finding Liz in situ) and Dot and Amy had done some shopping. We also did a little crabbing, and after I retired defeated, the children “teamed up” with another family, who had bait. As a result, Oliver netted one.

We then drove (as a result of a miscalculated and rash promise made earlier) to Winterton, in time to have a quick game of hide-and-seek in the dunes before the rain started, and a few drops quickly turned into a downpour. We repaired to the cafe for refreshment and then rushed wetly to the car. We had taken Dot’s car for a service earlier in the day, but it was now too late (and too wet) to fetch it; so I left it till the next morning. The next morning was also very wet, as was the whole day, and we spent most of it in the house or garage, where Oliver showed an amazing aptitude for table tennis. As he’s very competitive, this wasn’t enough for him: he wanted to win every game too. Meanwhile Amy made a den under the table and did some cooking indoors. We finished the day off with a 6pm meal at Prezzo’s: the children are a real joy to take out – or actually do anything with.

David arrived at lunchtime on Saturday, after being held up because the police had shut the southern bypass after a fatal accident. We had roast beef for lunch, and Oliver did his best to beat Daddy at table tennis when Daddy wasn’t tackling my computer. I popped up to St Peter Hungate at 3.30pm to check that the afternoon session with the visiting viols was going OK. I spoke to Lucy and Jo, both of whom seemed very ill, but didn’t hear the viols, who were taking a break. I went back at 5pm for the rehearsal with Rob, Caroline and Kay, and it went well, so I returned home to say goodbye again, picking up the poetry books I’d forgotten at the same time.

I also went and picked up a music stand from the church hall, at the same time replacing a notice which had either blown off or been ripped off, or both (the wind had been very strong the day before). The evening performance –  Heroine of Hungate – took place as David and the children were driving back to Caddington and Dot was cleaning up the house: it did go well, but the audience was very small – only a dozen, including relatives and friends. Hilary came, as did Catherine Mapes. I blame the poor publicity because the viols messed us about (no, we don’t want to perform; yes, we do; no, we can’t do it in the evening….)

Felt totally shattered yesterday morning, but had to leave at 9.30 for the Archdeacon’s Visitation at St Luke’s and a combined service and bring-and-share lunch. Worship music went well, and Dot and I were able to sing three of my songs for the Communion service. The archdeacon, the Ven Jan McFarlane, did a brilliant sermon about writing people off by labelling them: it sounds fairly ordinary, but she did it exceptionally well and brought in all kinds of other stuff.

In the evening our family’s hobnobbing with the senior echelons of the Church of England continued when Dot went to the commissioning service for the new director of Norwich Youth for Christ and met the Bishop, with whom she’s pretty chummy. She pleaded with him not to become Archbishop of Canterbury, and it would indeed be a big loss for Norwich, though probably brilliant for the country at large. I have a great admiration for him (as you probably noticed). She really enjoyed the service, at St Andrew’s Eaton, which I had given a miss in the hope of getting some rest – almost certainly a bad choice. I make a lot of them.