And here we are in Caddington. Amy is programming something on Google, Oliver is on Facetime from Aylesbury and Dot is cooking fajitas. I have just finished a John Le Carre book, which ended up in a predictably depressing way that I guess is realistic as far as the Congo is concerned. I picked it up at Edingthorpe Church while showing Dave and Julia one of the Paston walks.
We drove down here yesterday, stopping off to see Aunt Ethel on the way. She was healthy enough but a bit concerned that she and John were being asked to take on the running of the home following their arranged marriage. Interesting idea.
We arrived in plenty of time to have a bite to eat and then drive down to Aldenham to watch Amy playing hockey at Edge Grove School. We met Emma and had a chat, than after the game – in which Amy looked pretty good to me – all the parents / grandparents were invited for a match tea: sandwiches, cakelets and hot drinks. Very civilised.
On the way home we drove in to neighbouring Wall Hall College, which is now private roads and pricey dwellings for the super-rich. Once back on the M1 we could catch a glimpse of Otterspool, which I understand has suffered much the same fate.
We got home to Caddington around 4.45pm, and Dot cooked chicken chasseur with pasta. Then, following a plan we had only just found out about, I drove to the Travellers’ Rest at Edlesborough to meet Vicky (and Oliver) and take delivery of various bags of clothing and other items. By now it was raining hard as forecast, but this had dispersed by the time we woke up this morning, shortly before 7am.
We were more or less spectators as Amy got herself breakfast, and we left around 7.40pm. Despite being held up by a rear-end shunt (not us), a traffic jam on the A505 and a bin lorry in the narrow streets of Markyate, we made it to school in good time, and Amy disappeared in search of her school shoes which she – in common, it turned out, with several other girls – had left behind when setting off for her hockey match the day before. These duly turned up, but she is now minus a sock.
We turned up early to meet Amy out of school, and the journey both out and in was uneventful. Grace popped round for a bit, then Amy went to hers, then Grace came back … and eventually was fetched by her father. Amy had a bath and we watched some catch-up TV on Dot’s laptop; then had an early night. Earlier in the day we had visited Sainsburys and spoke to a woman who had to get up at 5am to get her granddaughter to school. Going a bit far, in several ways.
Before our journey south, on Monday we were given a lift by the Archers to Judy’s for our occasional cake and compline. In a later e-mail David A said he had felt “below par” and thought I was too. I didn’t know that.
An exciting week, with two highlights: first, Oliver and Amy (that’s one), and second, the Suffolk Poetry Festival.
On Wednesday we headed for Caddington to collect the children for a short half-term stay with us: quite a while since they’ve been here on their own. The weather over the three days wasn’t ideal, but we had a great time around the house; so it didn’t matter. Table tennis came into its own, as did several other games, most of them invented by Amy. Dot even managed to fit in a blood test (before we went on the Wednesday) and an ECG (on the Wednesday afternoon).
We returned them on the Friday, managing to get them home by 1pm: they had a playdate with Chloe and Thomas in the afternoon. It’s all go for them too. Road works outside Luton are getting difficult, and as a result we found two new ways home: the first, on Wednesday, up the M1, along the A421, A1 and A428, joining the A14 at Cambridge – further but still quite quick; the second was a little detour round Stockwood Park, approaching the bedevilled roundabout from the less congested side. Much less congested, actually.
We had a slight alarm on the Tuesday, when after a huge downpour that lasted most of the morning we ended the day by finding water under the record player unit – not much, but it would have filled a bowl or two. Bit of a mystery: the walls were dry, the ceiling was dry, it was nowhere near the window, and we could only conclude that water had come down the chimney and through a gap where the floor joins the wall.
Unless it happens again, I shall treat it as a freak event and do nothing. I should imagine finding the gap and fixing it (if that is the problem) might be quite costly.
Earlier that day I had been to a PHS Trustees’ meeting at Mundesley. It was still raining hard, but not as bad as in the morning. I picked up Rob and gave him a lift. Lucy was not so good and told us that her cancer had returned. She will be having new treatment in a couple of months, but is soldiering on for now.
On Saturday we went to the Suffolk Poetry Festival in Stowmarket – chosen, I guess, for its easy access. Ho, ho. I was part of a small group from the Seagull poetry event, and I got to read three poems, plus a pentaptych tanka with Dot. This cost us £50, which represented £25 each entry to afternoon and evening of the festival.
I wasn’t over the moon about the money, but in fact I really enjoyed the day, partly because Caroline Gilfillan was one of the featured readers in the evening, and we were able to chat quite a lot. Other featured readers were Kate Foley (superb) and Luke Wright (totally off the wall and a great entertainer), but some of the other readers were good too. The weather was reasonable, and the journey no problem, though it took about an hour (roughly 40 miles). Dot was complimented on her reading and her jacket.
Yesterday afternoon Dot and and I went to Open Studios in Muspole Street, calling in briefly at St Peter Hungate first, as it was open. Saw Sophie Cabot, one of the trustees and a reader at the Julian Week. At Muspole Street we saw Martin Laurance, Lucy Edwards, Martin Mitchell and a couple of others artists – one printer and one jeweller. A warm day and a pleasant walk.
Today I’ve been to the supermarket, done a bit of catching up (but more to be done), then attended a Chronicle meeting at Fakenham, which left me with much more work toward the new Oxnead book and upcoming performance. I am about to have my hair cut, and then we will have a meal with Angela and Rodney at Prezzos to discuss A Ethel. Well, someone has to do it.
Well, I did make it to Caddington, and very glad I did. We actually went down on the Saturday morning and stayed till teatime, after the children had been picked up by Vicky. Had time for a good chat with both Oliver and Amy, and Oliver showed me what Minecraft was all about. I now sort of understand it. David showed me how to use Evernote, which is more exciting than it sounds.
Dot drove both ways because I still wasn’t feeling good. In fact I’m still not feeling good. I think I’m getting over it and then I suddenly feel quite ill, with a lot of pressure in my abdomen and feeling shaky. Then I have crackling in my head. Paracetamol is quite good. If I weren’t going to see the doctor next Monday, I would probably have been in for an emergency appointment by now.
I’ve been well enough to carry on with most things, though. On Sunday I played guitar and led the prayers. On Monday we had our hair cut, after Dot had taken my glasses into Boots and got a new screw fitted (they fell apart in church on Sunday). And after we’d taken three pictures to be framed and returned the projector to the church hall so that Stuart could use it. On Tuesday I didn’t do much either.
Yesterday Dot and I went to the cinema at midday and saw The Monuments Men, about saving stolen art from the Nazis. Very good, but not brilliant. I would like to have seen Kristin Scott Thomas in the Cate Blanchett role, but then I like to see Kristin Scott Thomas in anything. The minor roles were particularly well played, and our use of the Odeon card enabled us to get two free tickets!
Arriving back from Morrisons in the rain on Tuesday, I opened the garage door, and it convulsed and spewed out some nasty black, oily tubing. I managed to feed it back into the hole it came out of – at the cost of getting very oily hands. Internet research revealed that attempting to mend garage doors can result in death or serious injury (I exaggerate slightly), so I contacted a local firm recommended by Colin Wright. A guy came this morning, and we have ordered a new door, which should be with us by next week. Meanwhile, I can open the current door and get the car out, if I’m very careful.
Now I have to find a plumber to fix the tank in the loft.
Kay has “resigned” from Chronicle – probably temporarily – for personal reasons, and Dot will probably be doing some reading and maybe violin-playing for our next performance. Not till September, probably, when we’re booked into Oxnead Hall for our new still embryonic Oxnead collection. Meanwhile I’ve been working on getting it into some kind of order, which is quite tricky as most of the stuff we’ve written is about one end of the timeline. Yes, Sir Robert.
I’ve also managed to produce (today) a financial report for the DCC on Monday. No news from Howard on transferring the account. Did I mention that Howard and Anna had invited us to go to Iona with them in June? They have. Looking forward to it. It’s going to snow tomorrow, allegedly.
My mother sitting in the sun outside our flat in Fernleigh Road – with Dot in the background. Early 70s.
Since the dawning of the New Year and its attendant rain and wind, we have combined two major events with a lot of lying around, watching television and trying to catch up on sleep. The return journey to Coventry with Andrew worked well: a bit slow on the way there, but very quick and easy on the way back.
New Year’s Eve was spent in the company of the Robinsons, and very congenial it was too. Dot cooked a delicious moussaka, with perfect pea soup as a starter, and in between courses I gave them a quiz that I had prepared earlier: 42 questions on 1964 (50 years ago) and 2014, with a few pictures of famous people thrown in. Philip may have still been suffering from the prostate biopsy he had the day before (or possibly the resultant alcohol ban) but he came in third, with Anne beating Dot by half a point. Pretty much a perfect result, you could say. Nothing suspicious there.
They stayed until well after 1am – the three of us imbibing much champagne and prossecco, and Philip enjoying his antibiotics – with some not very good music courtesy of Jools Holland in the background at first. While saying goodbye, we encountered our neighbours – Mary, Bob and Felix – returning in evening clothes from a night out at some Carrow Road function. Dot, being very merry, invited them in for a drink and nibbles, and it was 3am before we went to bed.
Meanwhile Chrissy had arrived at David’s for a quiet New Year’s Eve, and on Thursday (the 2nd) Dot and I went down to join them for a day with the Coomes family. We arrived just after 1pm, and Oliver and Amy some time later, delivered by Dave and Julia. Thereafter the four children busied themselves with computer games (mainly the mysterious Minecraft), partly in the company of Grace from down the road – a delightful girl who seems happy to go along with whatever Amy decides to do. Which is a good plan, it has to be said.
Chrissy and David cooked a very filling lasagne, preceded by rather inviting nibbles, and it was altogether a really nice day. The Coomes left just before us at around 8.30pm, and the journey home was very easy.
Yesterday saw some very wet and windy weather, including some hail, but Dot managed to walk to Morrisons during a break in the wetness. I have done very little walking in the last few days. Inertia is closing in. Still, I have written one and a half poems and have read half a book. I also threw a shampoo bottle left-handed into the bin from the bath, which is why I wrote the poem. There are storms and floods in the West Country but Chrissy has reached the freezing fields of home safely.
An old slide of Dot in the early 1970s with our Fiat 500 – or was it 600?
Midnight Communion on Christmas Eve was a lovely service, but by the time we emerged at around 12.30 on Christmas morning it was pouring with rain and pretty cold, so my task of fixing notices to the gates and locking them for Christmas Day proved rather less than straightforward, especially as I had to wait until everyone had passed through before locking them.
Christmas Day was – well, Christmas Day, and of course we spent most of it unwrapping, cooking and eating. It was lovely having David and the children with us. Boxing Day was also fun, if a little less frantic. David, Oliver and I went to see Norwich lose 2-1 to Fulham while Dot and Amy went to see Frozen at the cinema. The weather was sunny but cold, though relatively still in between the storms that hit different parts of the country both before and after Christmas.
On the 27th we had invited Richard Beales and his daughters, Maddison and Darcy, for lunch (chicken curry), and we had a lovely time with them. The children got on well – Oliver (nice boy that he is) looking after Darcy (4) and Amy playing with Maddison (6) after the latter had got over an initial burst of shyness. We found out a lot of background stuff about Richard and the business, and he and David got on well. All of them left at about the same time – around 7.15pm.
The children transferred to Vicky the following day after she had returned from Ireland in a Force 11 gale, but not before they had gone with David to Heathrow to meet Chrissy, who is staying with him for a few days.
I was up fairly early on Saturday to go and fetch Andrew from Coventry. Didn’t feel too well on the way over (I think the fried potato was starting to go off) and the traffic was heavy, so it took about three hours, with a stop at Cambridge Services. The journey back, which ended just after dark, was a bit quicker, and we managed to get home just before the football crowds emerged from Carrow Road, with Norwich having achieved a double home Christmas failure, losing 1-0 to Manchester United.
Yesterday we took Andrew to St Augustine’s for a really nice service led by Phil, with Carrie preaching. Dot read, and I did the prayers. Andrew had a long conversation with Harriet – not sure what about, but probably him – and Anandi and David were there: they are house-sitting for Howard and Anna, who are in Burma with Nicola and Beth. At least, we think they are: they didn’t take their phones.
On the way home we called in to see Joy and Phil, who were under the impression Andrew wasn’t coming home till the next day. Andrew had some presents for them. We stayed only short while because Joy was clearly tired.
In the afternoon Andrew and I walked up to the Rosary, and I was delighted to find that the flowers I’d put on Mum and Dad’s grave before Christmas were still there, despite the strong winds and rain in between. Andrew cleared the area of fallen branches, and we visited one or two other graves of well-known names from the past.
We will leave for Coventry after early lunch today. I am about to go out and get some money for Andrew, and perhaps a present for the staff at Minster Lodge. Louise Robinson has left her car in the drive while she goes to the sales in London. Her idea of heaven (I quote) and mine of hell.
Dot with Norwich City stars Nathan Redmond and Paul McVeigh
More storms across the country, but not too bad in Norfolk. David and the children have been here since Sunday afternoon, and we have been busy preparing for Christmas. After Dot and I had our hair cut, we stayed in most of yesterday because of rain and wind, though I slipped out to Carrow Road to upgrade one of the Boxing Day match tickets from senior to adult. David has broken/injured his toe, and much of his foot is bruised, so he finds it hard to walk far.
Nevertheless we all went up into the city today (when it was much sunnier, though still a bit windy) by bus, and got some clothes for Oliver and a few other things. To save David’s foot I walked over to the Castle Mall to renew his car tax, and then we had a hot drink in the M&S Cafe before visiting Hotel Chocolat. From there four of us returned home, leaving David in the city to get one or two other things.
He arrived home just after Roger called and left; then Dot went out to see Auntie Ethel. On her return, having cleaned the car, she remained at home with the others while I called in at Phil and Joy’s. They seemed in much better spirits. It seems Lucy is quite a lot better and at home. The baby is OK too, give or take some colic and constipation.
Later, while the salmon was cooking, I organised a quiz which Oliver won. The scoring was a little esoteric.
Bit of a panic in the rain at Waitrose on Saturday evening when we attempted to pick up the turkey we thought we’d ordered. In fact it turned out that we hadn’t; so we bought one off the shelf, and bought quite a lot of other stuff too.
On Sunday the alternative carol service featured a bit of dialogue between Dot and me, plus four of my poems, as well as the usual readings and carols followed by Communion. The Christmas meal that followed was decidedly better than the one at the Archant pensioners’ lunch in the Holiday Inn.
Tonight Dot and I will go to Midnight Communion, and I will put notices on the gates and lock them afterwards. The children have been discussing how early they will be allowed to get up tomorrow. Dot and I have been discussing how long we’ll stay in bed.
Part of Amy’s Christmas decorations, featuring Frosty and a bear
Time is passing frighteningly quickly. Either that, or I’m moving frighteningly slowly. I spend too much time sorting out difficulties, usually computer-related, and being distracted – also computer-related. However, today I have managed to send out the invoices for use of the hall and have created a leaflet for use in the alternative carol service. The latter shows once again that my printer is not working properly, and several attempts to clean it have not helped. I may have to get a new one. Or use Dot’s.
A storm is brewing, with high winds already here and the promise of a storm surge bringing flooding on the coast comparable to that of 1953. You always think it’s not going to happen, but they probably thought that about Lyonesse. Well, actually they probably didn’t think about it at all.
Happily we travelled to Caddington yesterday and not today. The occasion was Amy’s participation in the Beechwood concert for senior citizens (that’s us). She played her cello and also sang with a choir. Afterwards Dot and I gorged ourselves on sandwiches and mince pies with cups of tea. We then took Amy home, and I returned with David for Oliver, meeting Natalie and Emma. We stayed for an hour or so, then had to hurtle off (much to Amy’s disgust) to get Dot to an orchestra rehearsal. We were a bit late.
On Tuesday Dot and I had a scone and drink in John Lewis’ cafe before meeting Judy outside and walking down with her to the NRO, where Lucy was defying illness and injury to give a very good talk on John Fenn – the penultimate lunchtime lecture of the Paston exhibition. Rob and Penny were there, as was Diana as Lucy’s chauffeur. Afterwards we walked home and bumped into Lena outside Morrisons.
On Sunday I preached on optimism, and in the afternoon we drove to North Walsham, the cemetery and Jessie (not simultaneously). She was a bit below par because Ray’s funeral was the following day.
Meanwhile Phil and Joy have rushed down to Southampton because Lucy has had a problem following the birth of Elliott and is having treatment. An anxious time for all of them. The baby seems to be fine, though.
Dot, Julia and Dave getting properly shod in Trowse for our walk to Whitlingham
A very full week, starting last Tuesday with another visit to the Norfolk Record Office to hear the latest talk, The Fall of the House of Paston: a fine title and a brilliant lecture to a standing-room-only audience. I bought the book by the speaker (Jean Agnew) and walked home with Rob Knee.
Dave and Julia arrived around lunchtime the next day, and in the afternoon we took them to the Masterpieces exhibition, where Dot and I saw the bits we missed at the weekend, including the Rennie Mackintosh pictures and the Lotus F1 car in the restaurant. We got the X25 bus home (express route via Newmarket Road), and Dot cooked a brace of rather nice pheasant in the evening.
Our compulsory walk the following day was in two parts, because the cafe at Whitlingham Broad was helpfully closed. So after walking there from Trowse via Whitlingham Hall we walked back to Trowse along the road and had garlic bread and tea in the River Garden Cafe. We then drove back to the closed cafe and walked round the Broad, pausing only to shelter from a shower.
Later we walked up to the city to look at the Christmas stalls and witness the Christmas lights turn-on, all of which was OK, but not as spectacular as one might have expected. We returned home and had supper at Prezzo – as usual a very good meal with excellent service. Free bottle of Prosecco for the birthday girl. According to my app, I had walked a record 8.6 miles that day.
The peripatetic Evetts set off for Salisbury at about 11 on Friday, which was Dot’s actual birthday. I gave her a new violin case, a book and tickets for the ballet next February! Well, you have to book in advance. In the evening, although Dot was feeling a little under the weather, we drove to Metfield for a performance of the Fitzrovia Radio Hour, which I have to say was brilliant: a supposed radio performance in which we were the studio audience. The sound effects were the highlight, but the actors were brilliant in every respect. If you get the chance, go for it.
On Saturday yet another highlight: we drove to Caddington, arriving at almost the precise time that Elliott James Lenton was born in Southampton. Blissfully ignorant of this, we had a great time with the Coomes family – adults in the kitchen and children all on gadgets in the living room, playing a joint game, I believe. Excellent buffet food from David. After the Coomes left I got involved in a football game on the landing with Oliver, David and Amy (in goal), from which I miraculously emerged with no broken bones. Reminded me of The Christian, only more violent.
Also played a game of Mastermind with the children, in which you have to work out the position of four coloured pegs in a row. Oliver is very good at this, but I did manage to work one sequence out. I believe we played a version of this when David was young, or even earlier. Also played chess with Oliver. Like his father, he has the potential.
Meanwhile Magnus Carlsen was winning the world championship in India by defeating Viswanathan Anand without losing a game. Quite a feat.
We left quite late and as a result had a clear run home. The next day Dot was shattered and had mouth ulcers, so stayed in bed while I went to Communion. We spent most of the rest of the day watching television, which is never good. The weather has been cold, with quite a lot of rain.
Chronicle performing at the launch of the Paston exhibition at NRO
In the end we needn’t have worried. UPS failed to deliver after I’d alerted next door, who were no doubt on tenterhooks all day. In the end they delivered on Monday, less than an hour before the exhibition opened, and Dot made a special emergency trip, with the children, to deliver the leaflets to me.
The launch went very well, with a big attendance, and Chronicle’s performance was very well received. I was at NRO from about 10.45 and got home around 5pm, having given Kay a lift to Tombland to pick up a park-and-ride bus. Sadly Lucy didn’t make it, being confined to her house with cracked ribs and in quite a bit of pain. So Peter filmed it for her.
Dot and I had picked gone down to Caddington on Sunday afternoon – the last part of the journey in torrential rain. We had tea with David and then I drove back in much better weather. It was Amy’s birthday, of course. We got her a rather nice leather jewellery case.
On Tuesday, when it rained again, we went out to see Aunt Jessie in the afternoon. The gas man arrived about the same time as we did, to service her central heating. So we sat in the dining room, which worked out quite well, as Amy was able to draw on the table. Well, on paper, but on the table. You know what I mean.
During their couple of days with us Oliver wrote a very good poem, and Amy joined in with a couple of lighter, funny ones. She also made some sugar mice (with a bit of help). There was also a certain amount of table tennis played, with Oliver frequently victorious.
We set out after lunch on Wednesday to travel to Coventry, which turned out to be quite an arduous journey, with hold-ups because of the amount of traffic. Nevertheless we met the Evetts on time at the Allesley Harvester and had a good couple of hours there.
Then Dot and I drove home – again, more arduous than expected because the A14 was closed. We travelled south on the M1 to near Bedford and took the A421. Not a bad route, though further of course.
While the children were with us we also entertained the Hendersons, who stayed overnight on Tuesday while looking at houses in the area. All of us went to Prezzos and had a good meal.
Yesterday – a beautifully warm and sunny day – Fred and Sue arrived around 5.30pm for an evening meal with us. Today we all went to a CBSOB reunion at the law courts, where we were shown round by former pupil Mike Huggins: very well done, though I knew a lot of it from my time training journalists. We then took a walk along the river, and Dot and I won a quiz set by Adrian O’dell, thanks to a bit of knowledge from Dot (Wensum means meandering, for instance).
We ended with a good meal at the Adam and Eve (Rita still in attendance). Thanked Ray Houseago for allowing me to use his name in my column, though I’m not sure he knew what I meant. He behaved as though he did. Throwers also there. The four of us walked back along the river, had a cup of tea and then Fred and Sue left. Dot and I dozed off in front of the TV.
Rodney, Angela and Oliver line up for pictures at the wedding
Yes, it’s Tuesday again, and a small pause for breath. Have just had another go at booking airline seats for our Florida holiday – this time a bit more successfully, having obtained our British Airways booking number (strangely omitted from our original documentation). I have also been promised a refund from the agents for seat booking which didn’t happen.
This followed an all-action weekend, beginning on Friday with a day of interviewing UEA students for an internship at the Paston Heritage Society. This was made a little more tiring by having to fetch Lucy from Paston and return her there, and by the chosen candidate being constantly unobtainable by phone afterwards. When I did eventually contact her (by e-mail), she had just accepted a full-time job, so withdrew from the internship. We now have our second favourite, an earnest young lad who seems nevertheless to be extremely competent and has a car!
In the evening Dot and I went to the Norwich Christian Resource Centre to hear a talk by Allison Barnett, of Jews for Jesus, who rather unexpectedly turned out to be a brilliant speaker, deserving of a much bigger audience.
The next morning we met Heather Savigny and Simon for breakfast – something I would consider for only a selected few people – at Grounds coffee bar on Guildhall Hill. Had a teacake and as always some great conversation. They are scheduled to move to Bournemouth next month, but have already found an Indian restaurant there. We have been promised an invitation.
Later in the day was the long advertised event of autumn: Donna’s marriage to Andy at Oaklands Hotel. Many West Midlands accents in evidence, but also most of the surviving Beales family, with the exception of Rosemary. David, Oliver and Amy came up from Caddington, and we found ourselves sitting at the same table as Richard, Maddy and Darcy – lovely girls. Great opportunity to chat with Richard, the next generation coming to the fore. Justin took the official photos, and Heidi sat next to David. Angela was a witness. Vicki and Graham were also there, as was Rodney’s son Chris and his wife Sarah. Great food and drink from Oaklands: we used a taxi both ways. Oliver gained an admirer – four-year-old Darcy, who followed him everywhere. I think he quite liked it.
Our view of the O2 stage
No rest on Sunday, when we were off to London by 10am for the second major event of the weekend: a day with the Coomes, followed by a Leonard Cohen concert at O2. This was all paid for by our ever-generous hosts, including the taxi back from O2 to Leyton, a not inconsiderable sum to which we contributed a small amount behind David’s back. Cohen was as ever brilliant. Here is his set list:
Dance me to the end of love; The Future; Like a bird on the wire; Got a little secret; Everybody knows; Who by fire; Where is my gypsy wife tonight?; The darkness; Amen; Come healing; Lover, lover, lover. After the interval Tower of song; Suzanne; Chelsea Hotel#2; The Partisan; In my secret life; Alexandra leaving (sung by Sharon Robinson); I’m your man; 1000 kisses deep (read as poem); Hallelujah; Take this waltz; then as encores (!) So long Marianne; Going home; First we take Manhattan; Famous blue raincoat; If it be your will (sung by the Webb Sisters); and one verse of Closing Time.
It got better and better, and the O2 was a good venue, though the loos are laughably inadequate: there was a huge queue for the men’s toilet(!). Some peculiar people in the audience: one middle-aged man in a hoodie kept going out for a pint of beer; presumably he thought he was at a cricket match. Another couple brought a baby, but it didn’t last long. Probably preferred Iron Maiden.
Next day we were about to leave the flat much later than expected (Audrey’s partner, Bent, rang to say she was too unwell to be visited) when David arrived home, also not feeling well – he had fallen in the bathroom the previous morning and damaged his ribs. We were on our way out, so continued, assuming (rightly, I think) he would want to be left alone.
Dot at Elveden, waiting for breast of guinea fowl
On our way home we were fortunate to avoid a major hold-up on the A11 Elveden stretch when a car transporter slipped into a ditch and the road was eventually closed. We had been held up by a broken-down car short of Elveden, then stopped for lunch at the farm restaurant. When we emerged there was a huge delay at the lights, and we just managed to squeeze out after ten minutes or so. I suspect the lorry had gone into the ditch trying to get round the car. There ought to be some kind of penalty for causing such major hold-ups (unless it’s me, of course).
The major event of the previous week was my lunch with Joy McCall and a prospective publisher of a book of Norfolk-linked tanka. We met at the Rushcutters and eventually I had adequate fish and chips to match Joy’s fish pie. The publisher (of a smallish outfit called the Mousehold Press) was Adrian Bell, who turned out to be a chess player. The idea, it transpired from Joy, was for Adrian to publish at her expense a number of our tanka strings with photographs of Norfolk to which they were linked. I am supposed to get a running order together and send it to Adrian, which I need to do quickly. Together with a number of other things.
That was on Wednesday. On Thursday I made my second attempt of the week to visit Geoff in hospital (on Tuesday he was somewhere else getting his toes looked at). This time I coincided with Nicholas in the car park, but we were told Sophie had taken Geoff out in his wheelchair. Nicholas knew where they were likely to be, but they weren’t there, and after he left I spent some time scouring the area, in vain. Still, the stroll through the cemetery was quite enjoyable.
Meanwhile, I’m getting tantalisingly close to finishing Amy’s story. This week?
