Blue sky, cold wind

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David and Kristine Coomes at Blakeney

That blue sky is still with us – or with us again, depending on when you last looked. Reasonably warm today, so the visiting Coomes took a walk with us in the Rosary (Kristine is big on cemeteries) before heading home. Earlier we’d been to church, where I led the service and was relieved that Paul Cracknell, scheduled to preach, rose from his sick bed to join us. Odd sequence of events leading up to this: Howard was down to preach but had arranged a visit to a nephew in Scotland; apologised that he’d found no-one to take his place; at Dot’s suggestion I asked Margaret to do it, and she accepted, albeit reluctantly. Then, midweek, I got a call from Paul telling me what he would be preaching on: apparently Howard had effected a swap with him but hadn’t mentioned it to me. After discussions with both Paul and Margaret it was agreed that Paul would do it, as it was his last opportunity before he and Heather left the church. Then, on Saturday morning, I saw a general Tweet from his wife Heather saying he’d taken to his bed with flu. Cue panic from me and an attempt to work together a brief talk in case he failed to recover. But he did make it, and gave what I thought was an inspiring sermon.

Not a good week for organising things. Earlier had made several attempts to fix a date for five Paston poets to meet to discuss project; I went offline for an evening and in my absence they settled on a date I couldn’t do. So I came back with an alternative, and now I think we’re fixed on the afternoon of June 26. But it was a bit of an effort.

Back to the Coomes: they arrived on Saturday afternoon, and after coffee and biscuits we went to Blakeney for tea and scones at the Blakeney Hotel first-floor lounge, with its famous view over the marshes. Following this a brief walk out along the cut, but there was a bitterly cold wind despite the inviting blue sky. So in fairly quick order we drove on to Salthouse, where we enjoyed a brief foray on to the beach over the shingle bank, then on through Cromer to the cemetery at North Walsham. You remember that Kristine likes cemeteries? This one featured in a poem I wrote, and so there was a literary link. Not quite so cold there, but it wasn’t long before we proceeded via Field Lane (literary link number two) and through Wroxham home. Enjoyed a late dinner at Bishop’s and the revealing walk back along Prince of Wales Road just after 11pm.

Two more walks last week: on Wednesday I did the Paston walk around Norwich and got very tired in warm sunshine. Took a long time over it, though it’s probably less than three miles. St Peter Hungate was unfortunately shut when it shouldn’t have been, and I couldn’t find William Paston’s grave in the Cathedral, despite asking. Wasn’t feeling very well that day. The next day I did a 2-3-mile walk with Dot along the River Tiffey from Wymondham Abbey after a visit to Park Farm. Quite a bit cooler, but still pleasant, though the walk was not one I would recommend: too much wire, and the circular aspect was closed “due to lambing”. Everyone we met had a dog, and the Abbey itself was shut. What’s that all about?

On Friday we took a load of stuff to the tip, which was only slightly less picturesque. Got rid of an old box, which I suddenly felt sentimental about, because it harked back to my childhood. Wrote a poem about it.

Crab apple jelly in church

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Flowers on my parents' grave

Odd day yesterday. Felt tired out and on edge: walked into city to pay in cheques and got cold and wet in a sudden shower. Then played very good game of chess in the evening in a match against Fakenham which we won 2½-1½. Probably not enough to stop us getting relegated, but a good result nevertheless. Not as good as Norwich City last Saturday, who managed 6-0 against Scunthorpe.

Bitty sort of week all round. Had a chat with Phil and Joy on Friday about a situation at their church, then drove them to the doctor’s during the rush hour, which wasn’t as bad as I’d thought it might be. In the evening we had the Cracknells and Roberts from St Augustine’s round for a very pleasant meal and conversation. Heather C is training to be a vicar and Ruth R is about to become a mother for the second time, around my birthday. Her child will be roughly 66 years younger than me.

We had our hair cut on Saturday, and I was feeling distinctly odd for most of the day – so much so that we decided not to go to the cinema as we’d intended. Bit better on Sunday, which featured lunch at church, orchestrated by aforementioned Ruth R. Lovely atmosphere appreciated by new woman (well, new to us) and by everyone else, I think. It was Mothering Sunday, and Nicholas went for the “God, our Mother” approach, which worked well. Music seemed good too.

In the afternoon the weather was nicer and after putting some flowers on Mum and Dad’s grave at The Rosary we proceeded to North Walsham to put more flowers on graves – in this case Dot’s parents’ and sister’s. Called in at Jessie’s, but she was out with Roger, and so we headed for home, but we followed a sign we’d often seen for an exhibition at a church, and it turned out to be Stratton Strawless, former home of the Marsham family, one of whom had been a tree enthusiast. This was mainly what the exhibition was about, but there was something deeply attractive about the place. Dot used the facilities to make herself a cup of tea, and we bought some crab apple jelly. The sun was shining, and the church was an unusual one, with a low, square flint tower. Didn’t see a soul while we were there, but felt we had been made very welcome.

Cold and grey with showers again today, but the forecast is good for the rest of the week. I’m getting behind on my Lent poems and need to catch up. Have read two very good but very different books recently: Salt, by Jeremy Page – a novel of the North Norfolk marshes, with a dash of the Fens, and some unusual characters, beautifully written; and The Woodcutter, by Reginald Hill, a totally compulsive thriller set partly in the Lake District. Both books gained a lot for me from being set at least partly in places I know very well: a key section of the Hill book is set on the Pillar high level route, which I have walked and can easily visualise. The Page book spends much of its time on the marshes between Morston and Blakeney, another well known and favourite spot of mine.

Wet inside as well as out

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Not tremendously high-quality iPhone picture of Sam Savigny at Ali Tandoori on Sunday, with his free birthday candle stuck into something or other

Exceedingly tiring day yesterday. Drove to Coventry to see a council financial person about A’s arrangements, now that his money has drained away to the statutory level. She said quite a lot before I understood anything, and I understood then only because I asked for an interpretation. No, it wasn’t the accent: just a complete lack of familiarity on my part with the financial terms she was using. Anyway, I think I eventually understood what will be happening – and unsurprisingly, it’s no easier for me. More juggling of money in prospect. I can hardly wait.

A seemed pretty well physically, but his poor memory does seem a little worse. On the plus side, he has not destroyed the TV, which seems to be working well. The same could not be said of the CD player, but as it has a high dirt content, this is not totally surprising.

The journey there was pleasant and quick, but I made the mistake of taking it easy on the way back. What this always amounts to is taking longer and getting tireder. I had a stroll round Monks Kirby, which was enjoyable enough, but later decided to go across the Fens, where the traffic has got much worse in recent years. Encountered a shower of rain – precursor of a change in weather that is continuing today. Quite cold again and windy, and it’s starting to rain quite steadily.

Just got up to the city and back before it got going, paying in church and personal cheques and purchasing a Senior Railcard which I hope will prompt me to use the train more. The last one ran out in June last year, which must mean I haven’t travelled by rail since then. I suppose. The carpet-cleaning man came earlier, so it’s wet inside as well as out.

Last night we had a smaller Tuesday Group than usual, which I struggled through without falling asleep, as far as I can remember. Tonight the much more exciting parochial church council. Yes, that was a joke.

Fish, chips and curry

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Walking meditation

Just back from a brief visit to the chess club. I had been due to play a Bulgarian (Yosif) in the club tournament, but he rang to say he couldn’t make it. However, I was second reserve in our cup team, so I thought I’d better put in an appearance. Had a quick offhand game, then CP put in an appearance and said he was “fighting off flu”, which I guess is OK if you’re particularly self-centred. I turned down an offer to play him and his flu army, and returned home.

Quite relieved at not having to play, actually, as I’ve had a busy day catching up and preparing stuff to take to Coventry tomorrow for an interview with a woman from the council finance department. Andrew has just reached the stage where his money has reduced to such an extent that the council will have to pay his residential fees, and this has to be discussed. I also had to summarise some Board minutes for HG as well as fill in a Gift Aid form for church. And so on.

The catching up arose because Dot and I spent a couple of days assisting at a speaker event. The visitor this time was Fr Robert Kennedy from New York, who has some interesting ideas on zen and Christianity. Some of these ideas prompted me to write some poems, which got read out on the second day, but generally he was a little too radical for me, seeming unwilling to commit himself to anything, which I suppose is very zen. It clearly worked for him (and for some others) but not for me, despite the poetry. The poetry worked OK. The first-day weather was beautiful, which was fortunate because part of his “thing” was walking meditation, in which the entire audience (about 100) processed around the car park in Japanese style. On the second day it rained, and the walking meditation ended up indoors, which was a bit crowded. To be honest it all looked a bit silly, but I guess that’s a failure of imagination on my part.

The weather had also turned colder again, and it was still cold on Sunday – but dry, which was fortunate as we had to walk up to Magdalen Street to meet Heather, Sam and Simon with their friends Luke and Jenny. After a beer in the King’s Head we proceeded to the Ali Tandoori as usual for a curry. I was a bit nervous about this, as some unexpected fish and chips the previous night (first for ages) had given me a very bad night with acid reflux. But the curry worked out all right, perhaps because I took an extra pill. Or maybe I didn’t take the first pill. Who knows?

Had a very jolly time at Ali’s, ending with a sambuca. Luke and Jenny are moving to Loughborough, so it may be the last time we see them. However, I am now following Jenny on Twitter. The curry was in celebration of Sam’s 17th birthday and is becoming traditional. Hope his grandfather, with whom I went to university and played golf on Wimbledon Common, would approve.

Getting back to last Thursday, my dental appointment for crown preparation went surprisingly well. No pain, just rather lengthy discomfort – especially when taking the impression. No problems since with the temporary crown, despite my partaking enthusiastically of the sandwiches the same evening at the Ship Inn, Mundesley, venue for the Paston Heritage Society’s agm. Quite a pleasant evening. Chatted with Rob and Penny Knee for a while, and with others for a bit less of a while. We are getting to be almost regulars at the Ship Inn.

Breathtaking walk along the river

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Ducking the issue: looking for a handout at Thurne Staithe

It seems spring is really here – for a while, at least. Yesterday I even found myself reading outdoors, on a warm, sunny seat by the University Broad. I was on my way back from the hospital, where I had been told that I didn’t need what my GP had described as a “telescope up the bum”, because my mild abdominal discomfort was a result of scar tissue from the operation, which is what I thought. Relief, mainly.

The walk back through the university grounds and along the river to Cringleford was beautiful. I paused to watch a ladies’ soccer match early on, but it wasn’t really very good. The students had overflowed out of the university and were enjoying the sun, so I assume there were no lectures going on. The river was dead calm and the whole scene approaching Cringleford was pretty breathtaking.

In the evening we went to see a staging of Under Milk Wood by Crude Apache at Dragon Hall. Lovely setting in the medieval merchant house upstairs hall, with spectators sitting within inches of the actors! Really good performance.

Earlier in the week my Twitter contact Ryan came and did some aerial magic for us so that we can get digital in both bedrooms (if we get digital TVs, that is). Could be useful. The digital switchover for our area is this November.

On Monday I spent much of the afternoon at Blofield Church with Lucy, Jo and a couple of local enthusiasts, planning a Heritage Day featuring the Paston connection. Two later Paston tombs in the church, one of which (Margaret, late 17C) has a poem by Dryden on it. All sounded very promising, not least because they are very well organised as far as publicity goes. Meanwhile we are taking steps to move the Paston website somewhere nearer Paston where (more importantly) the content can be easily updated.

Idyllic time on the beach

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Dot retreating from the rocks at Sea Palling as the tide comes in

Spring broke through at the weekend, and on Sea Palling beach on Saturday afternoon it was not only sunny but warm. We had driven there via the delightful Thurne staithe (a spur-of-the-moment decision) and then Hempstead, past the house where Dot’s mum was born. A narrow road snaked down under the dunes towards Sea Palling: we stopped at the side of the road and took the narrow track over the dunes (taking note of numerous warnings). At the top we were greeted by a truly idyllic scene. The tide was far out, and the coast-protection rocks provided a lovely backdrop to the huge flat beach, populated by only a few walkers. The sky was totally blue.

We walked out to one of the islands of rocks, and Dot climbed up while I kept an eye on the tide, which was on the turn. In the few brief minutes while she climbed to the top it had almost surrounded the rocks, and she had to tread a precarious path to dry sand. We then walked round to one of the other islands and stood watching the speed of the advancing tide. I took a series of pictures over only about five minutes, during which a large patch of sand became an island and then quickly vanished.

Afterwards we returned to Thurne as the sun was getting low in the sky and walked out again from the staithe to the restored windmill, which was casting its huge shadow on to the meadow.

Yesterday was not so delightful, but while Dot visited Ethel I walked over three miles from Hethersett across some fields to Great Melton church, and back by the road. The field section was particularly pleasant, as it was dry underfoot and easy walking.

The previous week was not so strenuous, and not such fine weather. When I walked up to the dentist on Thursday there was a lot of dampness in the air, and it was pretty cold too. Given that I was also told I needed a crown (projected cost over £1000), I was not a particularly happy  bunny. Dot was on a NafPHT day out at Mildenhall, for which I had had to rise early and deposit her at Thickthorn to get the last seat on the minibus. I managed to reorganise my Paston stuff, and in the evening we had a DCC meeting for which Howard provided Guinness, as it was St Patrick’s Day. Unfortunately, I don’t like Guinness. The DCC meeting wasn’t too bad.

Earlier in the week we had the bookcase men round to recut the shelves on one side, because they protruded a fraction. Took them quite a long time, but they did a good job. The previous day (I record this for the sake of completion) I played a dull chess game and drew.

Friday was almost entirely taken up by the visit of Joy and Phil, who came round for  coffee at 11 and ended up staying for lunch and afternoon tea. Much discussion about their situation: Joy very upbeat.

Surprising decision to spring-clean study

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Oliver tries to hide behind some flowers painted on the back door at Caddington

A blue, sunny day, but a very chilly wind. I am ready for some real spring weather now. Dot is already on her second trip out, this time to the chiropractor, and I am sitting in a much tidier study than usual, having decided spontaneously yesterday to sort it out – with Dot’s enthusiastic support. The amazing thing was that it was my idea: I am normally reluctant to start big projects. If it were not so, I would have written several novels by now.

We spent the previous day at Caddington, arriving almost simultaneously at noon with David and the children, who had been to the opticians, discovering that Oliver has 20-20 vision. We had intended to join them at the Harvester, but Oliver had been a bit below par. However he brightened up during the day, and we had a couple of games of football in the garden. Amy was in good form too, as was David. Dot cooked roast chicken for supper – with all the trimmings, of course. We left late, but Dot drove fast, and we got home just before midnight.

Amy in cheerleader role, with sacrificial bear

Other events this past seven days:

Monday 7th: won a hard game of chess against Lowestoft. I was winning out of the opening, then almost lost, then winning again. I scraped home with minutes to spare.

Tuesday 8th: Spent about 90 minutes with Lucy at Dragon Hall with its enthusiastic events organiser, Sarah Power. Arranged to put on a week of Paston-related stuff in November, including a Paston walk or two led by me and an art and poetry workshop (Annette and me). Need to learn a lot more about the Pastons before I do the walk. Also took Annette’s laptop into Byte for repair (picked up Friday, cost £360).

Wednesday 9th: Haircut in afternoon, followed by an evening meal at Bishop’s with the Higbees. Excellent food, with price to match. Still, if we’d got an electrician to put lights in our loft, it would have cost a lot more, and we wouldn’t have got the meal, or the pleasure of the Higbees’ company.

Friday 10th: Stunning day for Phyllis Todd’s phuneral at St Augustine’s. Church pretty much full, and lots of the congregation turned up with food and drink for the wake afterwards. I had to give a brief talk on what Phyllis meant to the church. Sad but also pleasant occasion, which Phyllis’s daughter Janet much appreciated. (By contrast, tiny congregation on Sunday to hear Mark Heybourne: single figures, if you don’t count the music group and the service leader.)

Later we picked up Jessie from hospital, where she had been having eye tests (she may have had a minor stroke). Brought her home for tea and then drove to North Walsham. Left Dot with her while I went to a Paston Heritage Society Trustees’ meeting at Dayspring. Found the meeting quite frustrating. We need to sort out membership and avoid getting lumbered with a church that will fall down if we don’t raise huge amounts of money.

Have been watching horrific pictures of Japanese tsunami, which has devastated huge areas and must have killed many thousands. If you’re in its path, there’s no way of avoiding it. The ultimate feeling of helplessness.

• Since writing the first two paragraphs above, have been out for a short walk and to book us in for a performance of Under Milk Wood at Dragon Hall next Wednesday. Went with Dot as far as the wonderful Hobbycraft, where she bought some boxes to aid her in sorting some old pictures uncovered in my room.

Varying in tone and volume

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An iPhone picture taken near Beccles Quay

Frustrating day: bright blue sky outside, but I spent most of it trying to make sense of the church accounts. I’m sure they’ll be straightforward in future, but it’s quite difficult knowing exactly where to take over, and why some of the January figures appear in last year’s accounts. There was also the matter of a receipt for something that doesn’t appear to have been paid… Ah well.

It didn’t help when the power went off momentarily in the middle of it all, and the man putting the bookcase in said it was nothing to do with him. Which it probably wasn’t, in fact, as he was outside at the time. He was with us most of the day too, partly because the section on which the bookcase stands had been underestimated and had to be recut and shipped out to us. Amazingly, this happened the same day, and it is now finished. Looks impressive. I think.

Although it was bright today, it remains very cold. Yesterday I went for a three-mile walk in Beccles while Dot visited June, and the chill on my cheeks was quite noticeable. Good walk, though, over Beccles Fen. Cheered me up: I had been feeling down earlier.

On Saturday Dot and I went up to the Museum in what Chuck Berry would call drizzling showers and got a one-to-two talk on the origin of Norwich street names by a guy from Suffolk. Not sure why this wasn’t a full-scale talk, but afterwards we did go to a full-scale talk on monks and nuns in the city, which contained some fascinating information that I will no doubt soon forget. The man giving the talk was not a natural public speaker: his tone and volume both varied, and it demanded fierce attention to get the nub of his gist.

We also went into the current art exhibition, which focused on 1914-46 and contained what I thought was some pretty average art. Some good stuff as well, of course. While Dot was in the film installation I bumped into poet Hillary Mellon, who was uncharacteristically subdued.

Vicky had come round to lunch on Friday to initiate me into the accounts, but I’m not sure I remember much of it. George was making quite a lot of himself. There was something about Gift Aid which I really ought to remember, but don’t.

Revived by a burial ground

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Notice at Colney Wood
A notice near an exhibition of children's work at Colney Wood. Perhaps it's just me, but it seems to have an element of 1984 about it. Is it possible to be enthusiastic and not be happy?

Very cold recently, though thankfully dry. Opened the month with a Tuesday Group at which I felt strangely lethargic, though I had been feeling quite inspired earlier. Was revived the following day when I took a walk in a burial ground. Dot dropped me off at the junction of the Watton road and the southern bypass, and I walked over to Colney Wood, which is used for burials rather in the manner of the Rosary, but in a more random way and without headstones. I suppose it’s taking the Rosary idea a stage further, and it works really well. Beautiful hilly setting, and natural-looking memorials. I had hoped to be able to walk through and then across the water meadows to Bowthorpe, but unfortunately the burial ground is fenced in pretty thoroughly. So I returned to the entrance and was about to walk down the road towards the university when I got a phone call from Dot, whose meeting at Diocesan House had been cancelled. I invited her to join me in a further walk round the wood. I think she was equally impressed.

In the evening, while Dot was at a governors’ meeting at Brooke, I went to a poetry event at King’s Centre, which consisted of a talk by Lex Loizides from South Africa, interspersed with readings by actor John Carson from some of my favourite poets, including T S Eliot, Dylan Thomas, W B Yeats and Robert Frost. Surprisingly, it included a complete reading of The Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock, which may be my favourite poem. There was also some excellent food, and happily I ran into Mark Ulanowski, who invited me to sit at his table (we took him to Greenbelt a couple of years ago). I didn’t know anyone else there. The idea of poetry as prophecy appeals to me greatly.

Yesterday a visit to the dentist for a filling demonstrated yet again that the  advances in dentistry are a strong argument for living in the 21st century. Despite it being a fairly long procedure, I think I can safely say that there was no pain at any point. Of course it could just be that my dentist is highly skilled. On an unrelated topic, we are now on one of Dot’s diet regimes, which I am joining in on a fairly but not completely committed basis in an attempt to shed a few pounds.

Perfectly positioned in the middle of nowhere

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Yes, it's another flower picture: the legendary snowdrop walk at Walsingham

On an uncharacteristically springlike day last Thursday, Dot and I decided to go to Walsingham for the snowdrop walk. As she needed to go to the chemist first to obtain relief for persistent mouth ulcers, we took a somewhat unusual route, crossing to Aylsham and then taking the road past Blickling Hall to Saxthorpe (near Little London) and then on through Melton Constable, the only Midland coal-mining town in Norfolk. Not really coal-mining, of course: it just looks like it. The railway is really to blame: oddly, Melton Constable used to be the hub of Norfolk’s railway system. Perfectly positioned in the middle of nowhere. What were they thinking?

From there a beautiful high road (high for Norfolk, that is) stretches across to the main Cromer-Lynn road and from there it was a short distance north to Walsingham, via Great Snoring. Now that’s what I call a Norfolk village. Negotiating the maze that is Walsingham, we found the car park and had a lunchtime snack – deliberately small to make up for the lovely but substantial meal we had enjoyed the previous evening at Cafe Rouge in Norwich, where I at last managed to make use of my Gourmet Society card. I do like Cafe Rouge: the food is always good, and the service friendly.

Walsingham was pretty crowded for February – it was half-term, after all – but the walk in the priory grounds (they call it an Abbey, but technically it isn’t) was very pleasant, despite some slight muddiness. The temperature was mild enough for me to leave my anorak in the car, and I was glad I did. Short look round the museum and old courthouse afterwards, and of course we had to pop into the shop, where I unexpectedly bought a book critiquing Stephen Hawking’s theory that we don’t need God any more. I’ve already read it (it was very short), and found it lucid, convincing and surprisingly funny.

I’ve also finished another couple of books recently: Surface Detail by Iain M Banks, and The Lost Honour of Katharina Blum, by Heinrich Böll (translated from the German). I love Banks’ SF Culture novels, and this was up to par, though unnecessarily gruesome in places. The Culture civilisation itself is a wonderful idea, which I just tried to describe here, but have deleted my description on the grounds that it sounds silly when the Culture is in fact marvellous. I like to think of them as angels, but when they are in fact massive ships with lightning-fast Minds, they’re probably not everyone’s idea of an angel. Take it from me, they’re a lot better than they sound.

I’ve always liked Böll, and this short novel is typically crisp and typically Continental, in a good way. It’s about the way the media can distort and destroy someone who is basically innocent, but done in a deadpan, unemotional style. I’m not sure any modern European newspaper would sink to the the depths portrayed here, but the warning note is true.

Very wet journey to Martham on Friday night, standing in as a guest for our chess C-team, who often seem to run out of players. Odd game: missed a move early on that would have given me a big advantage, then nothing much happened for a long time until I recklessly broke through and gave him some play as a result. Then made a very bad move that accidentally turned out much better than it should have, and I would almost certainly have won in a complex position, but I was very short of time. I think I was right to accept his offer of a draw, because I would almost certainly have lost on time otherwise. On the way home in pouring rain I almost aquaplaned off the A47, but just held it on the road. So I nearly lost twice.

On Saturday we met Heather Savigny and Simon for lunch at Bishop’s, which is quite a high-class restaurant run by the father of one of Sam’s friends. Excellent meal of the Green-Inn type. Planning to take the Higbees there as a thank-you for Allan lighting up our loft. Spent a lot of time discussing Heather’s fight for equal rights at the university, which is apparently run by intransigent white males. Surprising: I had thought UEA was more radical.

I did sermon at church yesterday on part of Romans 8, and the process going on in creation. Paul writing about entropy roughly 1800 years before it was discovered (or given a name, anyway). Today Dot is en route to Eltham College for a P4C session with Barbara. I should get a lot done, or, if previous experience is anything to go by, not much.