A new Mazda 3 is on its way to us: we pick it up on Wednesday, all being well. It’s silver, and the actual cost is slightly less than I thought it might be, but still quite an increase on our current monthly payment. As David seems on the brink of getting a new car as well (a white hybrid), this will be a noteworthy week.
At the end of last week, on the Friday, we had cake and compline with Claire, followed on the Saturday by a ceilidh at the Silver Rooms on Silver Road, to which Dot and I walked. It was a hot day. The invitation came from our neighbours the D’Souzas to celebrate Chris’s 60th. The Wakefields were also invited, and we spent much of the time talking to them. The food was excellent, but in my usual introvert fashion I declined to dance. Dot did dance, and so did Freddie eventually, though he had been as stubborn as I was to start with. He’s the same age as Oliver. Mairead and Phoebe put in an enviably energetic display.
On the Sunday, after I led the service, Dot and I went out to see Jessie after calling at the cemetery. We took her to Walcott and miraculously found a parking spot on the front. We bought ice creams, and Jessie sat on the wall with our Wimbledon umbrella to keep off the sun. It was even hotter than the day before.
The next day Colin and James came to erect Dot’s new shed. Watching them do this was considerably more interesting than the PCC meeting in the evening, which went on and on for no apparent reason. Again, very hot. Meanwhile some men from the council were erecting something on the wall on the other side of the Norfolk Wildlife Trust’s drive. Colin spoke to the men and told us this would be a chain link fence. This would obviously be appalling, what with litter and an unstable slope, and we were delighted to discover later in the week that they were building a rather nice wooden fence supported by concrete posts instead. They still haven’t finished, but it should look good when complete.
On Tuesday evening we went to our monthly Julian meeting, but I didn’t feel much like contributing, for some reason. The wine was good.
It was on the Wednesday that we test-drove the Mazda 3. Not the model we’ll have, but very nice. After a good offer from Dean, an extremely good salesman, we agreed to purchase one. In the afternoon we went to the Hendersons for refreshments, and Maryta told us all about her Polish lessons, which for some reason seemed to feature a lost frog. We got in a few words about our Scottish holiday.
On Thursday I went to Warwick by train. The journey to London was very good, as was the Tube and the Chiltern Line. It was still quite warm, though with some moisture in the air. I found a quicker walking route from the station to the hospital, and found Andrew not at his perkiest. I was told by the nurse that he was better than he had been over the past week or so. We had quite a long chat and went into the garden again for a while. There was some guy doing eastern chanting, which was a mite disturbing. Andrew had somehow lost his belt. I didn’t have a spare one, but I sent him one when I got home. I spoke to the nurse (Jade), who booked me in to see Andrew’s doctor on July 11.
The journey home was fairly straightforward again, though marred by the Liverpool Street-Norwich section, where the train arrived 37 minutes late. This might not have been so bad, but I was sitting (in first class) opposite a couple of young men who had an extraordinarily high opinion of themselves and who got drunker and drunker and louder and louder.
No rest on the Friday: we were visited by Peter and Joan Altman, our friends from the Swiss holiday last year, who were spending three days in Norfolk, taking in Sandringham and (of course) Wymondham. We gave them coffee and then accompanied them round part of Norwich, including the Cathedral, ending up in London Street before letting them loose on their own. They eventually returned to pick up their car. We booked them into the Marsh Harrier for their evening meal – couldn’t join them as we had a previous appointment with Angela and Rodney, who took us to the Fox at Lyng, an excellent gastro-pub. I had fish and chips and a raspberry creme brûlée. The pint of cider was probably a mistake.
Up earlyish again on Saturday to travel to the Roman Camp Inn at Aylmerton to meet former colleagues and family of Bruce Robinson for a commemorative walk. (He died a year ago.) This was led by his wife Cynthia and his son Mike and covered about a couple of miles from the highest point in Norfolk (to which we travelled by car: it’s about a mile away from the Inn). Very enjoyable – the forecast rain held off and it wasn’t too hot. Afterwards we had a meal in a private room at the Inn, which was very pleasant. I sat next to Lucy, who was a Quaker and neighbour’s wife and didn’t know anyone (apart from Cynthia, of course). Present from the EDP subs: Brian (with Tricia), Robin (with Shelagh), Ralph (with Lynne) and Maryta (with Paul). Enjoyed talking to Mike on the walk.
Which brings us to today, which started with a very long Holy Communion service with the vicar and continued with the Bishop’s Garden Party. Also present at the latter: Carrie, Jude, Andrew and Gill Partridge, David and Bridget Archer, Martin and Sam Smith plus one on our table; elsewhere the Wimhursts and Eastons; also ran into Peter Carroll (ex-Letton Hall) and Jill Wright from Mulbarton. Impressed that the Bishop remembered my name as well as Dot’s. Lovely food, then a walk round the garden with Dot and Jude. Later Dot went home to prepare for a chanting session at church with Liz Day. I stayed with Jude, and we got home (walking) just as Dot was leaving (in her car).