A rather quiet few days for us, largely because the weather has been so wet and cold that we didn’t feel like doing much. Dot had a few appointments she had to keep, of course, but my excursions have been limited to accompanying her to the city on Saturday in search of linseed oil / methylated spirits (it’s a violin thing), driving to church on Sunday and taking the car in for an MOT and service yesterday.

We did start the week by going to the cinema (4 weeks out of 4) to see Inside Llewyn Davis, the latest Coen Brothers film, which is brilliant. It’s set in the 60s pre-Dylan folk scene of Greenwich Village (mainly) – a Dylan lookandsoundalike appears at the end – and it’s about success and failure. The title character is a very good folk singer but has several flaws, mainly his propensity for making the wrong decision at every turn. Beautifully done and highly recommended.

Have also read two good books – On the Steel Breeze by Alastair Reynolds and A Season in the West by Piers Paul Read. Reynolds has amazing ideas and writes beautifully well; and Read is just a first-rate novelist: his more recent The Misogynist was stunning.

I’ve also done some work on the family tree: I now have a death certificate for my great-great grandmother Sarah Lenton, who died in 1872. Have tried to find our her maiden name, but no definite success, though it may be Green. Meanwhile I’ve cleaned out a lot of files and have bought a shredder to deal with the sensitive papers. It was ordered on Saturday from Rymans and delivered yesterday.

I had to lead the service on Sunday because Carrie was dealing with a very sad case of a guy who accidentally overdosed on anti-depressants. Dot mentioned my new book.

I was fortunate yesterday when I took the car in for its service and MOT, because the rain cleared for almost precisely the time it took me to walk home (well over three miles). I called in at Barclays on Aylsham Road to pay in a cheque and then at the TSB in Magdalen Street to pay in church cheques. I toyed with going in to the city but felt too tired: I was exhausted when I got home – mainly, I think, because I had too much on. I was sweating quite lot. Felt much better later, when Dot drove me up to the garage to  ransom the car (just over £300).

Miserable as the weather is, we’re very fortunate to live in an area not so hard hit by flooding. The south and south-west are inundated, and now that it’s reached the Thames Valley, even the BBC are taking it seriously. That was quite unfair. I retract it.