I’ve been getting around: Warwick, Bacton, Stowmarket and Old Catton in the last four days, and mostly the weather has been good: warm and mainly sunny.

I hesitated a bit about going to Warwick but in the end decided it was worth it, because I won’t be seeing Andrew again for at least three weeks, which would have made it two months without a visit. For all that he loses track of time, I think he still notices when I haven’t been for a while. He was not as good as last time I saw him – he apparently had a stomach upset – but still much better than when he first went in there. We talked for about an hour, and I took him into the garden for a while.

The journey went quite well. As I hadn’t been feeling so good, I decided to go first class, and it was a good decision – even though the Chiltern Line appears not to have a first class. There were not many people on the two trains between Marylebone and Warwick, and it was very comfortable. I walked from the station to the hospital, which was about a mile. I had intended to take a taxi, but I would have got there too early.

The whole journey went slightly quicker than I had anticipated, which meant I had to hang around to make sure I got an off-peak train out of Liverpool Street. I had a quick snack at Marylebone (Upper Crust), watching the many, many cyclists taking their bikes on to the trains, then waited a while at Liverpool Street.

There were no seat reservations marked, and when the train had almost filled up, a couple decided that I and another guy were sitting in their reserved seats. It was too late to move, because the train  was pretty full; my companion pointed out that no reservations were marked, and they went off quite quietly. I have a feeling that train seat reservations should be abandoned altogether, because they cause so much trouble. People with reserved seats often sit elsewhere, and it’s easy to remove reservation cards and dispose of them (not that I would do this, but I bet some people do).

There should no doubt be exceptions in the case of those with special needs. On the way down I gave my seat to a woman with a disabled child because apparently her reservations hadn’t  been marked (or had been removed). This is not as heroic as it sounds: I was able to sit elsewhere quite easily.

On Friday the Paston Heritage Society had arranged a visit to Bromholm Priory, and I was due to act as guide for a couple of women while Lucy looked after a group of schoolchildren. However, when I arrived there was no sign of anyone. The school had cancelled because of an organisational problem, and only one of the women turned up. So Lucy, with her greater expertise,  was able to guide her, and I waited by the gate in case the other woman turned up. She didn’t, but a random couple named John and Jane did; they were about to turn away because the priory is private, but I suggested they join our “group”. They did – their lucky day. Peter was also there taking photographs, and we were all able to have a good look round.

The next day Dot and I went to Stowmarket to the Suffolk Poetry Festival, where I was reading on behalf of the  Seagull group. So was Dot – she and I did a selection of tanka that I am writing with Joy McCall. It was sunny and warm when we got on the train, but by Diss it was unexpectedly pouring with rain. Happily by Stowmarket ( a quarter of an hour later) it was sunny again. We got a teacake in the Lime Tree Cafe and then nearly got some shoes for Dot – but not quite– before the afternoon session started.

The poetry went well, I think. Dot and I started, followed by Sue, then Ollie Watson and ending with Kaaren. Quite a good balance. We listened to some other groups, then took a break, watching some students recite in another building while eating tea and cake. Following that we decided to go home, arriving in time for the Cup Final, Arsenal beating Chelsea 2-1, I’m glad to say. Good game.

Yesterday we had a rather distracted Communion service, partly because we heard just beforehand that Chris Fiske had had a very bad night and might have to be rushed into hospital. She didn’t in the end, but is not at all well. Then Dot got a phone call in the middle, went outside to take it and spent some time comforting Elvira, who was upset over recent family tragedies. Afterwards I spent some time trying to fit too many things into the too little space afforded by our replacement cupboard.

In the evening Dot was playing in a concert at St Margaret’s Old Catton, and so of course I went along. It was pretty full, and an  enjoyable evening. David Archer turned up at the last minute. As we left, there were a few spots of rain, and it rained harder overnight, though not so far today, despite the forecast. This evening I’m playing chess against a grandmaster. So are quite a few other people.