Unusually, got quite interested in Davis Cup tennis this afternoon, with Murray having a real struggle to beat the Japanese guy, Nishikori. They are currently in the fifth set, and I’m getting so irritated by the England supporters with beer and drum that I’m almost hoping Nishikori wins. They’re both almost dead on their feet.

Yesterday Norwich City managed to lose by the odd goal yet again, away to Swansea. It’s now almost certainly between Newcastle, Sunderland and us for the remaining two relegation places (Aston Villa have had it). Everyone is gloomy, including the two EDP Norwich City “experts” I met at Paul Durrant’s funeral – Ian Clarke and Ken Hurst. They seemed to think there was a chance of Martin O’Neill coming back as manager.

The funeral itself was beautifully done and went off well, thanks to exceptional weather – sunny, dry and not too cold. The main building at Colney was quite big, but nowhere near big enough to hold the numbers who attended, and many of us stood outside, listening by loudspeaker. Obviously there were many former colleagues here, and I met several I hadn’t seen for years, Including Vanessa Kemp (now Angier), Emma Outten, Colin Forshaw, Tony Wenham, John Carey and many others. I taught John how to sub, and apparently he married one of the subs’ runners. How come I didn’t notice that going on?

Also there were Frances, Bernadette, Maryta and Pete Kelley. Afterwards I couldn’t find my car keys and eventually found them back in the car, in the ignition, switched on. Happily the engine wasn’t running, but I’m getting quite worried about my mental capacity. However, I drove to the Red Lion for the wake, where I found David Paull, who had made his way there with some difficulty but lots of determination (he lives round the corner).  Had a chat with him and got him some food from the buffet, but he didn’t seem at all well. I hear from Frances by e-mail that he can only have one more shot of chemotherapy.

Went to the doctor’s on Wednesday, and I am now due for a shingles vaccine and a blood test, on successive days, which seems a bit odd. On the plus side, my blood pressure was down to 140/80. He was a happy doctor. I had to see him to renew my prescriptions.

Later in the day I drove to Banham to interview sculptor Steve Egginton for the article I’m writing for the diocesan magazine on festivals, pilgrimages, retreats and stuff. Steve is creating a long-distance route from the westernmost point of Wales to Lowestoft, the easternmost point of England. “Coincidentally”,  this goes through his garden; so he has a way station there. It’s called the Via Beata. The route, not the way station. Or the garden.

I’ve finished the article now, but it’s out for approval to one or two interviewees. If they’re happy, it goes to the editor on Monday.

Yesterday morning we had coffee with the Hendersons and have booked a meal out together at the Dining Rooms (Cinema City) next Thursday. When I say “coffee”, of course, I mean tea.

Today we had an eventful morning service when a woman burst in and started screaming. Happily, Carrie was there and took her out back, with some help from Debbie. I just carried on leading the service after a brief prayer for her. At the end she came in with Carrie. She was much calmer. Carrie is excellent in these situations.

This evening we went to Soul Circus, which was being held at our church hall. Very pleasant evening with Suzanne, Diana George, Robin and Maria, Elspeth, Carrie and some others. Lucy was supposed to come with Diana, but was ill at the last minute. Chest infection, I think.

Murray won.