Same hall, roughly the same position on the same day, but different camera.

We’re having parts of our kitchen upgraded (new stove, new work top, new sink), so everything had to be taken out of cupboards, and things are in pretty much of a mess, which I don’t enjoy. Confined to other parts of the house, so watched some of the Commonwealth Games. Also wrote next week’s page. Drove up to local tile emprium to choose tiles for kitchen, then called in to pick up processed films in city centre.  In evening went for a meal to Prezzo’s.

Bitterly cold with wintry showers.

This is Stone Gappe Hall, Lothersdale, in West Yorkshire. We’ve just spent a week living a couple of doors up the road. Despite almost continuous rain and /or snow, it was a wonderful few days – partly because the house we were staying in has superb views and is very comfortable, and partly because the landscape is stunning.

We visited the lovely Bolton Abbey in Wharfedale; and Haworth, home of the Brontes, where we visited a superb museum in the Parsonage where the family lived. We discovered that Charlotte had been a governess at Stone Gappe Hall, and it seemed that much of the inspiration for Jayne Eyre came from there. Coincidentally, our waitress at the Cavendish Pavilion, Bolton Abbey, was called Charlotte, and it was her first day: she seemed nervous (but was very good at her job). So I wrote this poem:

JANE AND THE WAITRESS

At Stone Gappe Hall, Charlotte like us looked out
across the valley towards home,
created something new – something transformed
called from the  tension of unfamiliar air
but close to the moor

If I reached out I could almost touch her

Today Charlotte brought me bread and wine:
it was her first day in the valley of desolation,
shoulders tense at the strangeness of it all,
she stood in white and waited to be called, transformed…

Anything was possible
I reached out and almost touched her

Anyway, on the way home from Yorkshire, after the snow melted, we called in at Harlestone, near Northampton, where my great-great-grandparents’ grave stands near the entrance to the church. First time Dot had seen it. We then went on to East Haddon, where we saw the grave of one of their sons and his wife, and found a couple more graves that mnay or may not be significant. When I have the pictures processed and can check with the family tree, I may reveal more.

We also realised that Harlestone is right on the edge of the Althorp estate and may even be part of it. So I am almost certainly related to Princess Diana. Ho, ho. But perhaps our ancestors met.

This is Emma Pike, Dot’s father’s mother  – and wife of Bert Cousens. Spoke about her to Jessie (Dot’s aunt) on Saturday and found that her father was Walter Pike and her mother Susannah Lusher from Swaffham. Susannah’s father was a publican, apparently. Emma had three sisters and four brothers: Nelly, Lily, Daisy, Ernest, Robert, Edward and Lacy. All of them were probably born in Suffield, but I will have to do some research on it.

Now we’re waiting for Dot’s car window to be replaced so that we can fetch the car and then leave in the other car for Yorkshire, where we hope to spend the next six or seven days. The window was smashed on Saturday night by some yob, probably local. However, it’s not unknown for away supporters to take it out on the locals when their team gets beaten, and we’re not too far from Carrow Road. Didn’t hear anything, though the car was outside our bedroom window. Nothing taken, but Autoglass say a crowbar was used.

Tim Mace will be staying here while we’re away. Beautiful day today, but forecast is for rain, of course.

Suspended boxes from the Fringe exhibition last autumn, appearing in the same room as the Poetry Vending Machine. Boxes are by Annette Rolston and Bronwen Edwards. Some of the poetry in the boxes is by me, some by other members of InPrint.

Had a chat with Dot’s Aunt Jessie today and uncovered a few names from Dot’s father’s side of the family, which I shall insert in the Genes Reunited tree as soon as possible. Quite a lot of snow in North Walsham Cemetery.

This is the Poetry Vending Machine – in fact it vends poetry and art collaborations. This is the main project of InPrint at present, and today I went to UEA with poet Rupert Mallin to meet Anna Steward, who is joining InPrint and will do some of our publicity. She is hoping to help us fix up a tour in Shropshire next year.

This has been a big week. While granddaughter Amy Beth was suffering from chickenpox she learnt to walk. Dot went down to babysit for a couple of days and just about kept up with her. Meanwhile I collected our new car – a blue Mazda 3 Sport which seems very smooth. If the weather doesn’t turn really bad we’ll be off to Yorkshire in it on Sunday or Monday.

Tonight we had a band rehearsal at David Archer’s, and tomorrow we hope to go and hear Keiron Pim play at Jurnet’s. I’ve just finished David Mitchell’s Cloud Atlas, which was a very enjoyable read, though I’m not sure the links between the different stories actually made it into one novel. Perhaps they did. Good to read something so well done, anyway.

Yes, it’s granddaughter Amy, going to work on an egg – or several eggs, in this case. She gets a special mention today because we have just seen her, via the webcam, taking five or six steps from the doorway of her Dad’s office to his arms.  I am reliably informed this is the furthest she’s walked so far.

This made me feel a good bit better. I had a bad night last night – headache and shivery – but felt better when I woke up. Headache is now coming back (6pm), so I’ve taken the old reliable paracetamol. Dot has been painting the guest bedroom, but this probably has nothing to do with it. I haven’t. Got to church OK, and the music went well.

A picture of me taken by my grandson Oliver David (Bailey) Lenton, aged three years and five months. Not bad, considering the unpromising material.

Lovely winter’s day today. Went to UEA to meet Anna Steward, who may join InPrint. Lots of ideas about Shropshire tour, PVM, publicity and so on.

Not an out-take from Reservoir Dogs or Pulp Fiction, but three members of InPrint, the visual arts-and-poetry group to which I belong. Centre is godfather and poet Rupert Mallin, right is Annette Rolston, the painter and printmaker with whom I collaborate, and making herself as small as possible on the left is Katarzyna Coleman, who specialises in industrial landscapes. For more information on them, see the InPrint site which you can access by clicking on the Blast above.

They are standing in front of the Poetry Vending Machine – a prototype of which we have high hopes – which is on display at the Warehouse in Lowestoft. Excellent gallery, but not easily accessible. We hope to have the PVM at the Wells festival in May.

During the past few days Dot and I have been away – firstly in East Sussex and later in Caddington, Bedfordshire, home of our son, daughter-in-law and grandchildren. Further photos of them, no doubt, shortly.

More Myhills – the largish woman standing in the centre may be Dot’s great-grandmother, Ruth Myhill, and one of the young children could be Dot’s Aunt Ethel. These things remain to be checked. But a formidable-looking family!

Quite a pleasant day here today: not too cold. I have had a session with my homeopathist and am about to go and take a friend to hospital. Meanwhile Dot is at a meeting at the UEA to do with her primary strategy consultant leader programme.

Received this picture today from a correspondent through Genes Reunited. The two people in the centre of the photograph are my wife’s great-great-grandparents, James Myhill and Sarah Webster, with three of their children (her great-grandmother Ruth Myhill’s brother and sisters).

Lovely winter’s day today – much warmer with some sunshine. Cleared some leaves and took them – and a few other things – to the tip. Then took the car for a wash and vacuum. In the evening went for a meal with friends Keiron and Rowan, who are getting married in the summer.