Back to square one last Thursday (appropriately enough, the day of the week I was born on) when I was given a lift by Rob to Earlham Hall, my birthplace. Now part of the UEA, it was the venue for another Paston meeting, this time about the big exhibitions planned for the autumn of 2020. Happily I was not taking the minutes.

Matt was on cloud nine, having discovered (as he thought) a previously unknown Paston, and possibly three or four. This proved to be not entirely true, but it got quite a big spread in the EDP, and was in the Telegraph too. The meeting was not totally compelling, but I got a lift home.

Much better was a talk by Brendan Pelphrey, the American Greek Orthodox monk, in the evening at the Julian Church, following refreshments at the centre. Dot and I had a chat with Elspeth, our former keyboard player, and some other people, and the talk was largely excellent. Debbie came in late, was the first person to respond to requests for questions, and then left early. We felt this was so typically Debbie that some record should be made of it.

The next day we had an early haircut, which is always a bit unnerving, and in the afternoon I had a massage by Verena, of which the same might be said. Meanwhile Joy has decided not to go ahead with her book, but Howard was happy with what I did on the Julian leaflet. I shall get paid for both, which is quite unusual.

On Saturday Dot and I went to Worstead for the weavers’ annual festival, at which the Paston Society had a stall. Going to Worstead proved to be a mistake because the Worstead festival turned out to be at Dilham. Of course. Why wouldn’t it be? I rang Rob and was redirected. Had quite a good time there: Teresa turned up and we had a scone and cake. Dot bought various small items, and it hardly rained at all.

In the evening we walked up to the Cathedral for a performance of Haydn’s Creation, in which Paul was singing. The performance of both choir and orchestra was brilliant, but I was not impressed by the libretto, which was in appallingly bad English, and not Victorian English, as David Archer maintained (he was there with Bridget). I found it distracting, to say the least. Actually it made me quite angry.

Still, we chatted with Paul, David and Bridget, as well as the male Snells, who were sitting in the side aisle. It rained on the way home, but Dot had an umbrella.

On Sunday I preached on the Trinity. I was a little bit uncertain, but the Rev Liz Cannon, who was leading, said it was one of the best sermons on the Trinity she’d heard. Maybe she hasn’t heard many. It was Father’s Day, and later we had a chat with David on FaceTime.

Yesterday I walked to Dragon Hall for a talk by Adrian O’Dell on the history of Norfolk heritage as it’s related to Dragon Hall. There was a bit too much of the former, but it was all quite interesting. Dot was doing a REQM assessment in Lowestoft, and we just missed each other, but fortunately I was home in time for the Hello Fresh man.

Oliver has finished his GCSEs. He seems quite happy about them.