An exciting week, with two highlights: first, Oliver and Amy (that’s one), and second, the Suffolk Poetry Festival.
On Wednesday we headed for Caddington to collect the children for a short half-term stay with us: quite a while since they’ve been here on their own. The weather over the three days wasn’t ideal, but we had a great time around the house; so it didn’t matter. Table tennis came into its own, as did several other games, most of them invented by Amy. Dot even managed to fit in a blood test (before we went on the Wednesday) and an ECG (on the Wednesday afternoon).
We returned them on the Friday, managing to get them home by 1pm: they had a playdate with Chloe and Thomas in the afternoon. It’s all go for them too. Road works outside Luton are getting difficult, and as a result we found two new ways home: the first, on Wednesday, up the M1, along the A421, A1 and A428, joining the A14 at Cambridge – further but still quite quick; the second was a little detour round Stockwood Park, approaching the bedevilled roundabout from the less congested side. Much less congested, actually.
We had a slight alarm on the Tuesday, when after a huge downpour that lasted most of the morning we ended the day by finding water under the record player unit – not much, but it would have filled a bowl or two. Bit of a mystery: the walls were dry, the ceiling was dry, it was nowhere near the window, and we could only conclude that water had come down the chimney and through a gap where the floor joins the wall.
Unless it happens again, I shall treat it as a freak event and do nothing. I should imagine finding the gap and fixing it (if that is the problem) might be quite costly.
Earlier that day I had been to a PHS Trustees’ meeting at Mundesley. It was still raining hard, but not as bad as in the morning. I picked up Rob and gave him a lift. Lucy was not so good and told us that her cancer had returned. She will be having new treatment in a couple of months, but is soldiering on for now.
On Saturday we went to the Suffolk Poetry Festival in Stowmarket – chosen, I guess, for its easy access. Ho, ho. I was part of a small group from the Seagull poetry event, and I got to read three poems, plus a pentaptych tanka with Dot. This cost us £50, which represented £25 each entry to afternoon and evening of the festival.
I wasn’t over the moon about the money, but in fact I really enjoyed the day, partly because Caroline Gilfillan was one of the featured readers in the evening, and we were able to chat quite a lot. Other featured readers were Kate Foley (superb) and Luke Wright (totally off the wall and a great entertainer), but some of the other readers were good too. The weather was reasonable, and the journey no problem, though it took about an hour (roughly 40 miles). Dot was complimented on her reading and her jacket.
Yesterday afternoon Dot and and I went to Open Studios in Muspole Street, calling in briefly at St Peter Hungate first, as it was open. Saw Sophie Cabot, one of the trustees and a reader at the Julian Week. At Muspole Street we saw Martin Laurance, Lucy Edwards, Martin Mitchell and a couple of others artists – one printer and one jeweller. A warm day and a pleasant walk.
Today I’ve been to the supermarket, done a bit of catching up (but more to be done), then attended a Chronicle meeting at Fakenham, which left me with much more work toward the new Oxnead book and upcoming performance. I am about to have my hair cut, and then we will have a meal with Angela and Rodney at Prezzos to discuss A Ethel. Well, someone has to do it.