Warm has become hot, with occasional rain. This morning it is sunny, and Dot is about to go off to Hethersett to see her aunt and cousin. I had a bad night and am feeling pretty tired. The last three days have been full: on Friday and Saturday we were at St Luke’s all day as volunteers for the Martin Laird visit. Caught a bit of what he said, and liked it. Yesterday I led the service at St Augustine’s and fitted a bell in the loo, as requested by an occasional visitor who is disabled. I can foresee problems involving intrigued toddlers and am going to write a note to go with it – not that that will avoid the toddler problem: I suppose it could make it worse. In the afternoon Fred and Sue came round for tea. They were in Norfolk for the marriage of his sister Marjorie to Pat. We spent a stimulating afternoon together, starting with a cup of tea in the garden (pictured: the weather was warm enough even for me) and ending with a sort of high tea. As a result the pizza at Ambient Wonder  in the evening was a step too far, and I had only the slimmest slice before realising that I really, really wasn’t hungry.

Dot and I decided to take a day off yesterday and, after leaving the MX5 to be MOT-tested, we went to Blakeney for lunch at the Manor Hotel (fried whitebait for me), then walked out along the quay before moving on to Cley, where we parked at the visitor centre and walked out to the hides. Very chill wind blowing directly into the hide, but if you could get out of the wind, it was a beautifully sunny and warm day. Got out of the wind for a while among the reeds, and tried to identify a few flowers and birds. While we were briefly in the hide, a birder kindly let us look through his new bit of kit and we saw a spoonbill and a redshank, which I believe are birds. From there to Cley Green, a beautifully green and quiet spot about a mile inland, with an excellent pub and outstandingly large church, which had not only bats but what appeared to be house martins nesting in the porch. Or church martins. Of course they could have been spoonbills or redshanks. (Dot is pictured in the pub garden, quietly pleased.)

Took a look at a beautiful slate carving in the memorial garden by Philippa, who I met at the Twenty Group party. It was in memory of former Cathedral Dean Alan Webster, who I noticed planted a tree on the riverside walk in 1972. Have written a poem partly inspired by memorials, trees, slate and the passing of time.

Eight at Tuesday Group last night, and it was warm enough to eat outside. Very sheltered in the back garden. Dot has now departed for Dickleburgh, to visit a school there. I have received the paperwork for my operation and discovered it was for a slightly different operation. I checked, and all is OK.

By the way, I lost my chess game on Monday. Misplayed the opening, and never recovered. Last of the season: I like to finish on a low note.

Dot and Dave Evetts at or near the summit of a minor peak on Wiveton Downs, near Blakeney. About 145ft, and in case this does not impress you, it is a higher than a blue whale standing on its tail. Or its head. See earlier post for more details of this impressive walk.

England are now out of the world 20-over cricket cup, having allowed West Indies to score 80 in nine overs to win by the ridiculous Duckworth-Lewis method. Our captain, on being asked whether he had considered the weather forecast when he chose to bat, replied: “Certainly not.” My question is “Why on earth not?” It’s well known that the second team to bat has an advantage under Duckworth-Lewis, and it was pretty obvious that it was going to rain. England didn’t really impress, even when beating India.

We had a large amount of rain last night, and I had to go out in it to play chess. Clarification: I wasn’t actually playing chess in the rain, but I had to get through the rain to reach the venue. In the end I managed to draw after winning a piece for two pawns and failing to preserve the advantage. Rain easing off on the way home, but I still got wet.

I’m seeing the consultant privately tomorrow to clarify certain points about the operation I shall be having shortly. It’s hard to get over all you want to say during the ten-minute clinic slot, particularly when the guy you’re talking to hasn’t had time to read the notes (understandably). I understand it’s probably a cysto-urethroscopy, which has got to be impressive, hasn’t it?

Went for a curry with the Savignys on Sunday evening, after taking complete control of the service at St Augustine’s in the morning. Met at the King’s Head as usual and went on to the wonderful Ali Tandoori’s for (in my case) a chicken bhuna and mushroom bhaji. Excellent evening.

This time last year I was in hospital, emerging from a very painful post-operative three days. Now I’m waiting for news of when I can have another operation. Bit disappointing, but so many people are worse off that I think I can put up with it. Of course I won’t say that if I die during it. For obvious reasons. It’s actually a much smaller deal and shouldn’t be too much trouble.

Today I visited Welborne Arts Festival – a great event in a little village not far out of Norwich – to see how they had presented the Norwich 20 Group’s Voicing Visions exhibition. Answer: very well. Not everything made it into the tent, but I was more than happy to see that three of my four poems did – and, naturally, three of my four artists’ pictures. The weather was sunny and warm, with forecast showers not materialising, and there was plenty going on. Lots of art, from the very good to the mediocre; sculpture; hazel-weaving; clowns; horses; and an interview with an author. Plus some excellent music from Axel Loughrey (pictured, singing blues, folk and indie with a touch of Velvet Underground); Nappertandy (Irish duo singing and playing traditional Celtic tunes); and Taillevent (a nine-strong group from Brittany who sang Breton maritime songs). Also a very nice atmosphere, and once I again I met the guy who really, really knows me well and I can’t place at all. Spent three hours there and ate a cheese baguette.

Dot meanwhile was in the city with Anne and came home with some excellent cherries from the market, plus a butter dish and some new shoes. Yesterday she visited two schools near the coast and ended up at Gorleston instead of Bradwell. I was about to give her directions to get back when the school sent out the secretary to retrieve her. I spent the day writing my sermon for tomorrow, but also walked to the river bank behind Carrow Road to see if any work was being done on clearing a path. There isn’t. It’s all pretty disgusting: a huge piece of waste ground on which coaches are parked and where people appear to be dumping anything they fancy. Or don’t fancy, I suppose. Pity. It could so easily be turned into a pleasant riverside path.

The stunning bridesmaids mentioned in my previous entry.

Bit of a gap there, but we’ve been so busy careering here and there with the Murrays that there’s been no time to stop and write it up. They left on the 9 o’clock train today and should be boarding the plane about now (3pm). The picture is of them and Dot emerging from an hour or so on the beach at Holkham on Saturday, during which we saw the tide coming in and several groups having to wade across the stream to safety. Quite exciting – but not very, very exciting. We had been hoping for a group of dwarves to attempt it. Earlier that day we had visited Wells (including the wonderful Big Blue Sky), had traditional fish and chips on the quay and moved on to a tea shop at Holkham, plus the very tempting Adnams kitchen and wine shop, to which we succumbed. After the beach we drove back home through the Holkham estate.

I see I have slipped out of sequence. Let us return to last Monday (the 18th), where we spent David’s birthday with him and the grandchildren. First we all took David to Loch Fyne restaurant in St Albans, which was superb – both food and setting. Then we were joined by the children at Winchfield and had a hectic remainder of the afternoon, with Oliver showing his skill at football, which is considerable, and Amy organising an outstanding game of hide-and-seek. It was a really nice day altogether. We left just after six and had an easy drive home.

The following day we went to London on the train and took the tube to Westminster Bridge, which we crossed, paying tribute to Wordsworth as we did so. I feel I may have underestimated Wordsworth. Then an awful hot dog in a cafe (me only; the others had something more palatable) before we proceeded to the Eye, which was brilliant. No long queue, and we were in our pod way before our due time. The weather was good (showery, but dry at this point) and clear, and it was well worth the money and effort. We then walked up to Tate Modern, taking in a gallery on the way, and popped briefly inside before crossing the Millennium Bridge to St Paul’s, where we took the underground to Oxford Circus. After a brief trot in the wrong direction, we then walked down Regent Street, taking in a few shops (Burberry’s loo is excellent, and Hamley’s toy attack too overwhelming). Found another gallery – Haunch of Venison – but weren’t impressed by what was on show, though the building itself was superb. Down Burlington Arcade and a brief foray into Fortnum and Mason’s before arriving for tea at the Ritz. Superb. Tube from Green Park back to Liverpool Street and so to bed. Well, after we got home, that is. Another great day.

The next day we went for something a little more leisurely, hiring a Broads day boat from Stalham (Moonfleet Marine) for five hours and taking in Barton Broad, How Hill and Wayford Bridge. Very pleasant weather, if not quite hot enough for Barbara. We rounded off the day with dinner at Morston Hall, which I have to say was very good indeed. On the Thursday Dot was working, so I took the Murrays to the Castle Museum (via the Cathedral). Roger did his best to knock himself out on the Castle wall, but just failed, though he was stunned for a while. We proceeded to the Caffe Italia, where we had a light lunch. Dot had been intending to join us there, but was late back, so we walked to the Art Shop in St Benedict’s, where Roger had been hoping to buy some revolutionary new acrylic paint. But no luck, and it started raining heavily, so I phoned Dot, who by this time was at home, and she came and picked us up. Barbara and Dot went shopping in the afternoon, and in the evening we all went to the Maddermarket to see Terence Rattigan’s Separate Tables, which was very well done. Met several ex-EDP folk – Frank Gordon, Trevor Burton and (after about 20 years) Jack and Sylvia Gordon. Sandra was also there, painting the scenery. Actually, I think she had finished painting it.

Next morning (Friday – try to keep up) I took Roger and Barbara on a seven-mile walk at Caistor. Dot was at a SIAS training day at Brome. Very pleasant walking weather – not too hot – and it went very well, though I was pretty desperate for the loo at the end. Having problems in that area at the moment. Restricted flow. Roger located the mystery acrylic at Jarrolds in the afternoon, and in the evening Dot took the Murrays to the Last Wine Bar while I went to the final night party for Voicing Visions. Knew almost no-one there except Ruthli and her husband, who invited me to tea on their lawn at my convenience, which was nice. Fortified by some very acceptable white wine, I talked to some very nice people, including Alison, who works at Waterstone’s, and Philippa, who is a stone carver and works for David Holgate. She introduced my to Joyce Dunbar, also a poet but primarily quite a well-known writer of children’s books. Left after an hour and a half and met the others as they were finishing their meal.

Saturday we have covered, and on Sunday the Murrays went to Suffolk for a family meal while after church I went to Paston to stand in for Lisa at the Art Alive project following her poetry walk. We returned there the following day with the Murrays to look at the book and the church. Brigitte was there again in medieval costume – never seen her in anything else. Perhaps she is medieval. Jo Berry showed me how to make paper. Called in at Knapton and Edingthorpe churches before proceeding to Elderton Lodge for another pleasant meal. Then on to Rosie’s for tea and buns and a walk round the garden.

Completed the Norfolk rose round the following day, which started out very wet but dried out, by having tea with Peter and Jean at the Beales Sweet Briar Bistro and then looking round their gardens and shop. After that went for lunch at Dunston Hall after calling at a farm shop in Mulbarton. Ended the day with fillet steak and chips at home. During their visit Roger and Barbara saw all 13 episodes of the first season of Battlestar Galactica. Apparently there are four seasons and 73 episodes altogether. Ended up feeling more sympathy for the Cylons than the humans, which can’t be right, can it? Perhaps I’m not human. I probably wouldn’t know.