It’s getting dangerously close to the big Paston exhibition on Saturday, and I still haven’t finished the collections of short stories that I’m supposed to be printing off. So why am I writing this? Obviously because I have to finish the things I can do fairly quickly before getting down to the thing that’s more difficult. This is broadly why I have never got the things done that I really want to do, like writing books. Sad, isn’t it? I think this syndrome should get the medical attention it deserves, like dyslexia, seasonal affective disorder, OCD and mononucleosis.
Meanwhile, it’s Lent, and instead of giving anything up, I have been writing a poem a day. I did this once before, and it came out quite well. So far I’ve written five, because I’m counting Sundays as part of Lent, although officially they aren’t.
I have finished most of the short story collection, and most of the next edition of the Paston mag. I’ve also installed our new phones – a process which would have been easy if the wiring hadn’t been so complicated. The wire from the main phone was trapped behind our wooden case, which is fastened to the wall, and the rest of it then went through a hole into the study, where it appeared behind a filing cabinet and under the main work shelf, together with two other wires. In the end I managed to work out which wire was which, but had to cut the phone wire out – not before hitting my head four times, twice under the stairs and twice on the study shelf. I am barely surviving.
As it is the new phones are installed and working, though I haven’t got round to installing any of the useful features yet.
Friday was quite eventful. In the morning I followed Dot to Kirby Bedon, where a short but sweet lunch was being held to celebrate the gathering in of many pounds of sugar from schools to aid the homeless and hungry. It’s part of a much bigger project, and Dot and I had a minimal part in it, but the organiser, Helen, is a former head teacher and former NAFHT colleague of Dot’s. Dot had to leave early to go on to Forncett (which is why we took two cars), and I lingered, chatting to a few people I knew vaguely or not at all.
In the afternoon I had to go to the dentist to get one of my teeth cemented back in: it had broken off the day before, at breakfast. A very simple though quite expensive process, and entirely without pain, unlike cleaning. The same evening we went with Judy to Claire’s for our monthly cake and compline, which in this case was pancakes and compline – and very nice too. All the usual people were there apart from Vicky, who couldn’t get a baby-sitter.
Amid all this Paul Henderson had gone into hospital for his hip replacement operation, and so we invited Maryta for lunch at Presto’s, which was very pleasant, despite a bitter wind on the way up there. She came back to the look at the new furniture, and then I drove her home while Dot listened to the football. Norwich City just failed to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory, drawing 2-2 with West Ham after leading 2-0. Paul, incidentally, is already out of hospital and moving well.
After communion on Sunday the congregation met the Archdeacon to discuss our difficulty with the new vicar. She was very nice (everyone likes her) but I’m not sure we felt much better afterwards. However, we are cheerful in this house, because Chrissy has arrived in England, and she and David are coming up to see us on Wednesday, together with the children.