Tag Archives: archant

Vicar surprises us

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Three-handed chess set – a gift from Karen

It’s a sunny, warmer day, and Dot has just been out in the garden (with a little help from me), tidying up. Norwich City are already on the radio, and she is in the kitchen.

The air has been gradually losing its chill over the past week, but last Sunday, when we went to the Seagull at Lowestoft after I had both led and preached in the morning, it was still pretty cold, with a chill wind. Phil was unable to come with us; so Dot and I played a couple of Julian songs in the first half, and I did “I Want to Catch Fire” on my own later. This is a song I wrote many years ago, but I have only just worked out how to sing (and play) it. It seemed to go all right.

On Monday it was still very cold; so Dot and I decided not to walk to the Greens’ for the DCC. We had a longish meeting, with a rather relaxed discussion at the end. The new vicar turned out to be not the one we had anticipated, but everyone seemed happy about him. His name is David Austin, and he is a big devotee of Facebook: he has been posting a great deal this week, not all of it uninteresting.

Next morning I walked up to Archant in murky weather for the monthly coffee morning: Su Lee was in attendance, as was Bob Easter, with news that Alan Atherton was extremely ill and not likely to last long. It was rather a subdued gathering after that, but a new chairman, Eric, was elected (can’t remember his surname: he was a print room supervisor), Alan having stood down.

On Wednesday Dot and I managed to get to the cinema, with two free seats (accumulated points) to see The Second Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, which we enjoyed tremendously. Intelligent script, good direction and beautiful, relaxed acting. We were smiling all the way through and for some time afterwards.

Thursday was quite busy. We went out to North Walsham to put flowers on the graves (it was Doreen’s birthday) and then called in on Jessie for a cup of tea and biscuits: she seemed in very good form. We had to get back in time to let in Naomi, who came for the night so that she could get to a course at UEA the next morning. Having let her in, we abandoned her and walked to the Greens for an evening meal with them and Vicky and Helen Ward, who was staying for a few days. Typical Green hospitality left us replete and walking back home just before midnight.

The next day everyone except Dot went to UEA. Slight exaggeration – Naomi left early for her course, and  I followed not long after (by bus) for a meeting at the Registry with other Paston trustees and Dr Karen Smyth, who gave me a three-handed chess set. We also spent a long time talking about the Heritage Lottery Fund bid, and continued the discussion after a lunch in Vista (the top cafe). I had fish and chips, which was excellent. Naomi joined us at her own expense and went back to Mundesley with her mother..

I returned home by bus and spent quite a long time catching up with paperwork. Dot arrived home from lunch with Anne shortly after I arrived, and after a bit more work we spent much of the evening watching TV. After the fish and chips, not much supper necessary.

Still managing to keep up with Lent tanka. Just.

The road to Grin Low

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Negotiating the walk to the station, rather gingerly
Negotiating the walk to the station, rather gingerly

There was more snow overnight on Friday, and on Saturday we decided to take the train to Manchester. Julia was particularly worried about tricky underfoot conditions on the way to the station, but we managed to reach it unscathed, to find that a return ticket to Manchester, including a tram journey anywhere while there, amounted to £6 each. Since the train journey was an hour long, this seemed to represent absurdly good value for money.

As we neared Manchester, the snow disappeared, until there was no trace at all after Stockport. In Manchester there was a cold wind, but it was sunny. We went to the Imperial War Museum North, not far from the BBC and the Lowry Centre where, coincidentally, an edition of Britain’s Got Talent (I think) was being filmed. On the way back to the tram stop we had to negotiate star-struck crowds outside.

The museum itself was intriguing from an architectural point of view and laid out  in rather a chaotic way (thus reflecting war, no doubt). There was a good short film on rationing projected on the walls to all and sundry, some excellent poetry from poet in residence Mario Petrucci and a particularly good one on the Twin Towers by Simon Armitage. There was also a superb aerial sculpture by Gerry Judah called The Crusader.

We also climbed up a 100ft tower (160+ steps – the lift was broken, no doubt through enemy action) and partook of refreshment in the cafe.

Julia was worried (again) about underfoot conditions in Buxton and tried to book a taxi, to no avail. Dot and I walked on ahead, but Julia and Dave made it without too much trouble. It wasn’t really too bad, unlike the following morning, when two of our waitresses fell over on the way to work – happily without serious injury.

There had been no more snow, but there was plenty lying around, and we decided not to be too ambitious. We headed (by car) for Poole’s Cavern, possibly the only place in Buxton that we had been to but the Evetts hadn’t. Pausing only for coffee (after all it was practically an hour since we had had breakfast) we toured the cave in the company of an excellent guide called Robin, who was particularly good with the children in our small party. We had seen it before, but it was worth seeing again.

After lunch in the cafe we decided to drive up to Grin Low – a very short distance, but it involved (initially) a road too slippery to drive up and a car park too slippery to get into. However, Dave parked skilfully at the side of the entrance road, and we ventured out onto the snow, some of us more gingerly than others. In fact the most dangerous bit was getting out of the car, where the ice was treacherous. Having managed that, the quite deep snow on the hill was pretty straightforward and beautiful to boot.

We were within about ten minutes of Solomon’s Temple, a tower on the summit, when Dave and Julia decided it was too dangerous to go further; so they headed back. Dot and I continued, and found it was actually quite easy, give or take the odd dog. Climbing the tower was another matter: the steps were treacherous, and we had to be very, very careful.   Good view, though. We got back to the car about ten minutes after the others and drove back to the hotel.

The hotel was at its best: the food was excellent, and the rooms were just right. We also got into conversation with two waitresses we knew from previous years and got shown pictures of their children!

The journey home on Monday was even easier than the journey north, and the only problem we had was going astray when trying to find Donnington Services and adding about ten miles to our journey. This is much more complicated than it sounds. We stopped once for coffee at Leicester and got home before 3pm.

I was very tired but had to rouse myself to go to Dunston Hall in the evening for a meal with Audrey and Bent, who had been spending the weekend there. This was a birthday surprise for Bent, who seemed quite pleased, to give him credit. The meal was pretty good, but we both declined the sweet, rather heroically.

Yesterday morning Dot was quickly back into her working role, and I walked up to Archant for a pensioners’ coffee morning – the first time I’d been in the building for years. There about 20 present, most of whom I knew at least by sight. Robin had invited me, and his wife Shelagh was there too. Also Tony Foulkes and Alan Atherton, looking very ill. He was apparently told a couple of months ago he had a couple of tumours on his lungs: he looked painfully thin and got out of breath very quickly. However, he took the trouble to welcome me and have a chat. A really nice bloke. Also had a brief chat with Pete Kelley, who happened to be in the canteen.

When I emerged from the building, the sun was blazing down and it was really quite pleasant; so I took the long way home.

Problem with the vagus

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View from the Julian Bridge last week.

The week continued on its breakneck course, with plenty of Christmas preparation: cards, presents, carol service preparation and so on. The weather has turned very cold, with a brisk wind, but it is happily bright and dry, both of which get my vote.

On Thursday we went to Sue and Roger Eagle’s in Hempnall for lunch, preceded by a brisk but chilling walk round the village. Then came an excellent spicy cauliflower soup, which would have been enough for me. However, it was followed by a pork main course and a  small but rich sweet – at the end of which Dot had one of her funny turns, where she goes into a cold sweat and can’t move. I got her to the loo and she recovered, but not really enough to stay, and I took her home, where she collapsed on the sofa.

From disparate sources we later discovered that this was a case of overstimulation of the vagus nerve, where the the overfed stomach demands too much blood, and leaves too little for the brain. It doesn’t last long, but it’s pretty frightening when it happens. This is the third time Dot has had it. In her life, that is. The most recent time was in the Last Wine Bar.

On Friday she had pretty much recovered and drove me to the Archant pensioners’ lunch after I’d dashed to the supermarket to slot in a £40 shop (thus obtaining an essential voucher) and dropped a Christmas pudding on someone’s foot. Luckily, being a northerner, he hardly felt it.

The pensioners’ lunch was the usual traditional affair, with the wine on offer dwindling to a trickle. Sat on a depleted subs’ table with Robin Limmer and Bruce Robinson on my left,  and John Kitson and Terry Reeve on my right. Mr Kitson proved remarkably entertaining. Also present: Sue, Frances, Julie… Sadly absent: Brian Caldecott, attending the N&N for some kind of operation. Shock of the day: among 16 pensioners reported dead in the past year was stone hand Martin Rodwell, who I had met not long ago at Blakeney and who had looked really well. Apparently he got cancer in his liver and pancreas, and died within 11 weeks of the diagnosis. A sobering thought. He was a nice bloke. Always got on well with him.

On Saturday, Norwich City scored three goals in six minutes while I was taking my brother Phil home from a walking visit. He finds it hard to walk more than one way now, which is rather sad. Norwich City beat Huddersfield 5-0. Later I drove Dot up to the Methodist Church on Chapelfield, braving the homegoing football drivers, so that she could rehearse for her evening concert there.

I left the car in the (free) car park and walked home, buying a hook for the bathroom on the way; cooked some food (I had earlier cooked some for Dot); fixed the hook on the bathroom door; and then walked back, arriving with about ten minutes to spare. (The hook is to ensure privacy for Naomi, who is staying with us tonight and tomorrow night; the main lock is defective.)

At the concert I sat with Maryta and Paul, having greeted Neville Thrower, whose wife Mary was on clarinet. It was a good concert, with Dot on second violin looking very good. Tea and biscuits at the interval, and a chat with the oboeist, who is Peter Bussey’s sister. All these CNS connections… Speaking of which, we have been invited to Adrian O’dell’s 70th next May. We know all the top people. After the concert Dot and I went back to the Hendersons’ for wine, tea, cheese and biscuits. Very nice.

This morning had a Communion led by Eleanor, with Howard preaching on the Magnificat. Dot has been dealing with cards and presents this afternoon. I have completed my allocation, but there is still much to do. Like a leaflet for the Midnight Communion, for instance.

Nostalgia and a good buffet

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Banner outside Paston Great Barn, affixed by Rob and myself

Started the week by playing two chess games in a day: the first one, in the afternoon, I played at Andy Pandian’s flat and managed to win. Then in the evening I played Yosif Antonov at the club and drew after not being able to make anything of an advantage. Now I have 3/5 in the club tournament, and three games with white to go. Even if I win them all, I may not win the tournament, because Chris has 4½/6. And I probably won’t win them all.

So I was pretty tired after that, and the week didn’t get any easier. On Tuesday I went to the Archant annual meeting, which was quite entertaining. Spent some time chatting to the Look East business editor, Richard Bond, who I know very well from my EDP days. Also several others, including Mike Almond, Ivor Harvey and Doug Bird, who introduced me to director Mike Walsh. Chatted to him for a while, and he expressed an interest in what Dot is doing, so I’ve sent him her website address (at his request). The meeting was rather more exciting than usual, with some rather pointed and challenging questions.

Good buffet as usual, but staff too keen to take away my wine when I put it on the table. Left with James Goffin, a former trainee made good, and on the way back to the UEA to catch the bus ran into Peter Jeffery, a face from so far in the past that I almost didn’t recognise him: he was an EDP sub way back in the 70s. Warm day. I did a couple of things in the city and got so hot I ended up with hay fever: not a common thing nowadays. Still, I managed to get to the Archers for our Tuesday Group.

On Wednesday I went with Phil to St Michael’s Hospital,Warwick, to see Andrew, who was not in a good state. Made little sense at first and clearly thought we’d come to take him away. We left to get him some clothes and his diary from The Langleys. When we got back he was a little more lucid, but not much. Also his missing clothes had reappeared from the laundry, so he now has more than he needs. We weren’t allowed to take him out.

Phil and I drove home via Northampton and had a meal at the Thrapston Little Chef. I had an Olympic Breakfast that was beautifully cooked. Surprised but grateful.

Pretty tired after all that and again didn’t sleep well. had to be awake and up by 9.30 the next day for the man from Sonata to service our alarm, which needed a new battery. I knew the feeling. Later had another session with Sharon, which was less painful than last time. Today I had a bit of pain, but it has gone now. During the last couple of days I’ve managed to write a sermon for Sunday and pick the hymns.

This afternoon I drove out to Paston to help set up the church for the open day tomorrow. Sunny in the main, but quite a bit cooler. Dot met several colleagues for lunch in the Waffle House and got home after I did, getting ambushed by a shower on the last stretch.

Knee-deep in the season’s activities

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David and Bridget Archer – providers of fish and chips

I think Christmas is here. At least, we seem knee-deep in all the activities associated with the Christmas season, and a few others too. Not much time to stop and think since my last post.

On Friday we had the traditional Archant pensioners’ Christmas lunch in the traditional hotel, with the traditional rain outside. Quite a pleasant meal: sat with Su, Brian and Julie Bedson, and we were joined by new EDP/EN editor Nigel Pickover, who was his usual expansive self. I have to admit that I quite like him. I said this to Su, and she retorted that I liked everyone, which is not true but a nice thing to say (I think). I was served tea by my first cousin once removed – Lewis (Kitsune Le’) Lenton, who is Mark’s son, an artist and a bit out there. Still, he was tuned in enough to introduce himself, which was nice.

In the evening of the same day we went to a drinks and nibbles evening at the vicar’s. I spent much of the time talking to Melissa Snell: we are very much on the same wavelength, except that she is in love with Bolivia. Also spoke to her husband Simon and to Margaret Comerford. Quite an odd evening, because there were many people there who I didn’t speak to at all. Dot struck up a conversation with a teacher who may have persuaded her to join a music group where she will be able to play her violin.

On Saturday Dot and I went to see Norwich beat Wigan 2-1. Go0d match, which we deserved to win. Our recent record is now second only to Barcelona in the top five European leagues, and we’re eighth in the Premiership. Ran into Peter Franzen (former EDP editor) for the second day running, which is a bit excessive. Weather was not too bad, but I wore lots of clothes, just in case.

Sunday saw the usual Christmas event at St Augustine’s, designed and organised by myself. We were pretending in a rather halfhearted way to be a radio programme, and there was some appropriate dialogue as well as carols, readings and poems. Everyone was very appreciative, which is the nice thing about St Augustine’s. It was followed by our Christmas meal: most people contributed, and it was very good.

Sue and Roger Eagle came round for lunch on Monday: they are really good company, and we have much in common. Had far too much to eat and have been feeling overfull ever since. As a result decided not to go to the Christmas chess event; flaked out and watched a bit of Battlestar Galactica instead.

It was all go yesterday, and fortunately the weather was fine. We started by picking up Dot’s glasses from Little Plumstead school (her gloves are at Barnham Broom, or possibly Diocesan House by now) and then drove to North Walsham for tea and sausage rolls with Jessie. We then proceeded to Sainsbury’s and bought flowers for the cemetery, from where we moved on to Sheila’s. She seemed pretty well, though a little vague on some matters. More sausage rolls, and a mince pie too. From there we went to Rosie’s, where we had ginger wine. Rosie is in quite a bit of pain with her back but is as determined as ever to carry on doing what she always has: in this instance making 175 wreaths for customers and friends.

In the evening, and far from traditionally, we had Tuesday Group fish and chips, supplied by the Archers but eaten at ours. The usual suspects tucked in enthusiastically. Added excitement was provided by Ian, who had locked himself out and spent much of the evening trying to contact his sister, who has a key. Eventually the Archers gave him a lift to Cringleford, where said sister lives, and deposited him there. It was unclear whether he was staying or whether his brother-in-law was going to be able to (a) find the key and (b) take him home.

Today has been fairly mild. We had our hair cut, and Dot left for Barbara’s. I then almost forgot to pick up Philip to take him for his benefits assessment, but Joy rang and reminded me. This took two trips, because as usual they kept him waiting a long time. In between I posted  a package and sorted out the church cheques for paying in. After picking Phil and Joy up and taking them home (dropping in at Surrey Chapel to leave some cards) I returned home and left immediately for the city, where I paid in those cheques and took a Christmas parcel to Dipples, receiving one in return! Quite chilly by the time I got home. Dot has just rung to say she is on her way back.

Drought gets wetter and wetter

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Happisburgh lighthouse on a cold Sunday

Drought is now in full swing. It’s rained every day recently, often for a long time. Yesterday we had a hailstorm, and it’s pouring outside as I write, thus putting paid to our projected pitch-and-putt with the Robinsons. Helpfully, Anglian Water has sent us a leaflet describing lots of different ways to save water, like spending two minutes less in the shower. I would put this into effect immediately, except that I don’t have showers in the normal run of things. It doesn’t say anything about baths. One question: if water pipes are leaking all over the place, shouldn’t that be helping in terms of the water table? I suspect not, but I don’t know why.

Anyway, Dot has baked a cake. So we can have afternoon tea instead of pitch-and-putt. And I’ve managed to write my sermon for Sunday, though I have no doubt it will be changed before delivery.

Yesterday was my father’s 99th birthday, and today is Jack Earl’s, which means he is one day younger (than my father). And has lived 57 years longer, which doesn’t seem fair. Having a bit of trouble with his daughter at the moment: Rob and I went to St Peter Hungate on Monday to sort out plans for our event there in June; on reporting these to Lucy, it turns out that she wasn’t anticipating an evening event or sharing the proceeds with the church, both of which we’d agreed. So not sure what will happen. I have written a linking script and Rob has designed some publicity.

Dot is considerably better, but still has a bit of a cough. She spent most of the day yesterday at the Cathedral for a church school head teachers’ conference. Meanwhile I went to the John Innes Centre in pouring rain for the Archant annual meeting.  Very few people there that I knew: no-one from EDP editorial except the editor, and no editorial pensioners. Spoke to Robyn Bechelet, Kath Silver, Ann Lown, Mike Almond and Doug Bird before I spilled some red wine on myself and made a fairly swift exit, pausing only for a bit more of the delicious buffet, which seems to get better every year.

Johnny Hustler gave an interesting talk (oh, yes he did) about Archant innovations, including a device whereby you could use an iPhone to run a video by pointing it at an ad in a magazine, which seems pretty amazing to me. Whatever next? No, don’t tell me.

On Sunday we went to have a look at Happisburgh, where they have astonishingly built a new car park on the cliff and a ramp down to the beach. They are also in process of demolishing some cliff-edge houses. Dot and I walked down to the beach and back in a bitterly cold wind, then repaired to Jessie’s for a cup of tea, with Roger in attendance.

Stories of my life

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Amy and Nana at Jessie's

A breathless week or so, leaving me too busy to keep up to date. David and the grandchildren have been with us since teatime on Tuesday, and David has been very unwell with a heavy cold. Happily the rest of us have been OK, and Oliver and Amy have been exemplary. Yesterday we went shopping in the morning for clothes and did the grand tour in the afternoon, starting at Jessie’s, then moving on to the cemetery, Auntie Sheila’s and Rosie’s. Real pleasure to be with the children, who showed lots of interest in the conversation and were very patient. Amy slightly disappointed that the dogs were not to hand at Rosie’s (they had been bad dogs and were being “punished”) but happy to talk about them and where they slept.

Today the weather is a bit better (mild and dry) and we have been to see Auntie Ethel. Oliver has just taken some photographs for a quiz he’s compiling, and I’ve printed them out for him. We’ve also been to the Puppet Theatre to see Red Riding Hood – very impressive, especially when one of the two puppeteers handled two puppets simultaneously and also did quite different voices with them at considerable speed. And almost as impressive as my running off another quiz for Amy after we returned home, via the Cathedral.

Several noteworthy events since my last post: on Wednesday last week we had lunch with the Kibbles at Prezzo’s, and they came back here for coffee. Dot had to dash off to one of her schools, so I had to keep them entertained with stories of my life. I’m not sure “entertained” is the right word. On the Friday was the Archant pensioners’ Christmas lunch extravaganza, but first we had to locate a unit on the Hellesdon industrial estate to obtain some Gift Aid envelopes. Mission accomplished just in time, Dot dropped me at the airport Holiday Inn for the lunch and social gathering. Johnny Hustler gave quite a good speech, given that I dislike him,  and the food was passable, given that they were catering for about 150. Yompers Bruce and Robin were present, but I sat with Frances and Val, plus organiser Debbie and her sidekick Melissa, or possibly Merissa, who gave me an extra couple of goodie bags to avoid having to return them to the office. Dot picked me up just before 3pm.

The next day we were at the Higbees for a delightful evening meal with their friend Heather, whose husband Graham had been delayed on an oil rig. And Sunday, of course, was the big event of the winter: St Augustine’s Christmas service, communion and lunch. I had written the service and led it – quite a lot of work, but happily everyone appreciated it, and I got a very kind note from Howard afterwards. Nice meal, to which everyone contributed, and Matthew was back from Palestine and still working on the PA system. I put up notices on the hall gates to say they’d be locked on Christmas Day. Now I have to remember to unlock them ready for Boxing Day. One of the notices had vanished when I visited the hall a couple of days later to read the electricity meter. No surprise there.

Have been having quite a lot of trouble over hall bookings – specifically arranging to meet the person who organises it. Happily she has decided the job is too much for her, and a new regime will start in the new year. Result.

Brave lads beaten by snow

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Wintry glimpse through our front door at night

And so the new cold-type winter continues. Dashed out to A Ethel’s on Thursday to fetch forgotten item to be relayed elsewhere, and got back just in time to enable Dot to take the front-wheel-drive car to Thurton for a farewell do at the school. Snow was forecast, and there was sleet on the bypass, so it seemed sensible not to take the MX5, but in the event she was able to get there and back fairly easily. I gather she spent much of the time with one of her old admirers, who is rather well known around Norwich, so I had better not reveal his name. She has so many old admirers, unsurprisingly.

Snow overnight put the Archant Christmas Lunch at risk, and the brave lads from EDP subs all declined to risk the journey. So I found myself on a table dominated by Evening News subs, which was a bit unnerving. But I had my former training colleague Frances Burrows to my right, together with ex-electronics engineer Ken Prentice, who is quite a talker. So we held fast, even during a speech by Archant Norfolk chief executive Stephan Phillips which didn’t quite catch the mood, although I thought it was amusing.

Very cold on Saturday, so Dot and I walked to Morrisons and found that walking on packed snow was relatively easy. However, we didn’t fancy taking the car to Menita’s in the evening for her annual Christmas party, which consisted largely of sweet and sticky Euro-cake, mulled wine and the Italian version of tombola. So we got an A2B taxi, which didn’t fancy coming up our hill, so we met it at the bottom. Pleasant couple of hours in a multi-national way: sat next to Italian woman with almost perfect English. France and Germany were also represented.  Eugenia was away in Italy with Francesca, so her husband Roberto stood in. He is from South America and speaks Portuguese. Needless to say everyone could speak English, and did. Taxi took us home by about 11.30 and although tired, we watched highlights of Norwich City’s win earlier in the day before going to bed.

Today was hectic: our St Augustine’s alternative carol service, followed by  Christmas lunch. Unloading the car at the outset took an age, because Dot was supplying some of the food, plus table dressings, and then there were the musical instruments, stands and a few presents and cards. Nicholas was already there with Harriet, so the place was warm.

I was slightly panicky about the organisation of the service, which was in my hands as usual. Because it’s impossible to get anyone to rehearse, we had to plunge right into it, and I was leading, playing music, singing (sometimes) and taking part in the drama. My guitar playing wasn’t up to much, but we got through, and everyone seemed to think it had gone well, to my amazement. I used a couple of my songs, a couple of my poems and a new drama I’d written. It’s nice to have the opportunity, but I do wonder sometimes if I’m monopolising the whole thing. The fact is that they seem to like my getting on with it, because it means no-one else has to worry.

The lunch was a joint effort because Vicky had just produced a baby boy, George, and is in no position… It all went very well; too many cooks did not spoil the broth, and the food was delicious. Very nice to have the two Green girls, Anandi and Bethany, there. Had quite a long chat with Beth, who is thinking of applying to Oxbridge to read geography, but a bit worried about the work involved.

Spent much of the afternoon and early evening wrapping presents. Still very cold outside. Our haircuts have been postponed until Wednesday. What kind of margin for error does that leave us?

Amy reaches half a dozen

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Amy in Lion Wood
Six-year-old Amy pathfinding in Lion Wood.

Colin has just finished cutting our hedge – very bravely without the use of an aqualung. It tipped down for the first couple of hours, but it has now finished, and it’s bright but a little windy. Later today Dot is going to the football match, courtesy of Jonathan’s spare ticket, and I shall be off later in the afternoon to Cromer for a poetry reading.

Yesterday the grandchildren returned home with their father after staying with us for a couple of action-packed days. We travelled down in very cold weather (2C) to Caddington on Wednesday afternoon for Amy’s sixth birthday, and after birthday tea we brought them home and put them to bed. No sign of dozing off in the car nowadays. The next day we had to wake early for the piano tuner, and Oliver took a keen interest in what was going on. Later we went for a walk in Lion Wood, where they enjoyed the hills, and ended up in Pilling Park. Oliver was very tired because he’d slept badly, so we returned to the car and drove round to pick Dot and Amy up. However, they’d found a high wire and no children around, so Amy had been whizzing up and down, as had Flopsy. Oliver then had a resurgence of energy and had several goes on the wire and on other equipment. Afterwards drove to Venta Icenorum, because Oliver is doing a school project on Boudicca. Eventually found a Boudicca’s Way sign for him to photograph with his iPod. Most signs were either falling apart or vandalised. Early night for both as they were exhausted and Dot was off to a DCC meeting that I was quite relieved to avoid. I read them a book and they were both reading in bed on their own before going to sleep. Oliver was interested in the Children’s Bible that he found.

Yesterday we took them up to the Castle Museum to view the Boudicca Room. Amy wasn’t keen on Boudicca, or on stuffed animals, as she’s quite a sensitive little soul, but Oliver took some more pictures of coins, pots and notices. We paid a visit to the shop and then had a snack in the cafe before I returned home to dress in a suit for a special Archant reception at the Cathedral Hostry to mark 140 years of the EDP. Just a snack, wine and a chat really, but it was good to reminisce with so many former colleagues for 90 minutes or so. I shall name as many as I can here, starting with the ones I spoke to (more than 20): Keith Skipper, Biddy Collyer, Roy Strowger, Grace Corne and Rex Hancey (columnists); Ian Collins, Rosemary Dixon and Annette Hudson (who had put the exhibition together); Bill Smith (photographer); John Cushion, Richard Batson, Ian Clarke and Alison Croose (current and former chief reporters); current editor Pete Waters and his PA Sandra Mackay; former editor Peter Franzen with his wife Kathy; leader writer Colin Chinery; features editor Sarah Hardy; feature writers Steve Snelling and Angie Kennedy; plus training school head David Paull and David Newham, with whom I had a long chat about writing and putting on plays. Also glimpsed in distance: Peter Hannam, Trevor Burton’s father, Richard Bond and Jacqui Meadows. Notable absentees: Martin Throssell and Paul Durrant. Wine good quality, sandwiches quite acceptable, considering they were taken from packs bought from local supermarket. Afterwards returned home to find kitchen dominated by two dens. Oliver completed his five facts about Boudicca very quickly, and has his pictures in reserve. He then beat me at Tri-Tactics. Still, I had won my chess game on Monday, so I could take it without whimpering.

David arrived around 5.30pm, and at 6 we went to Prezzo’s for a meal. Children both quite tired, but ate fairly well, though Amy found it hard to stay upright. They left not long afterwards, leaving behind only a giant ladybird, a homework book and the melody line to Let it Be. Of course we didn’t know that till afterwards.

Inordinate number of suits

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Alligator
Our magic alligator in his prime: he is now out of the bath and in the back garden, though showing no sign of shrinking.

Couldn’t stay away from the Assembly House yesterday. At lunchtime wandered up to attend the Archant annual meeting as usual. Quite strange, really: an inordinate number of suits, and a distinct lack of people from my former areas, though one of my trainees spoke to me about the new design system, and another one featured on the video about it. He is now a news editor. Brian C was the only member of the subbing group to show up: no Bruce, Robin, Peter or Hugh. This despite the excellent wine and buffet. The actual meeting was peculiar too: in the absence of chief inquisitor Mike P, no questions were asked at all following Mr J’s unusually monotone presentation: possibly the recession has brought out the Trappist in everyone. Spent some time towards the end talking to Cliff Butler’s widow Audrey, who was delighted that we remembered him, and to Jennie Downing, John’s widow, who seems as feisty as ever.

Back to the Assembly House with Dot in the evening for the Norwich Writers’ Circle open poetry competition prizegiving. Endearingly amateur organisation, with no-one seeming to know how things were going to be done, if indeed they were going to be done at all. But eventually I was announced as the winner for my poem Failing Fire, which I wrote in January after gazing into the fire after a succession of those January days in which dawn seems to slide straight into dusk with nothing in between. North Walsham cemetery made an appearance too, though incognito. To my surprise, the three other poems I submitted were also highly commended and thus got into the anthology. I read three of them and should have read the other one, but my lack of willpower got the better of me.

Very strangely, a headteacher who Dot had spoken to on the phone earlier in the day was also there, sitting next to Nic from church – who had two poems in the anthology. Also the former chair of governors at Tuckswood. Small world. There were about 620 entries from all over the country (and one or two from further afield), so I was very pleased. The judge was Hilary Mellon, a poet whose work I enjoy very much.

Today Dot has been busy: first at Brooke for a DSSO visit, and this afternoon leading four sessions at a conference for aspiring head teachers. She has spent a huge amount of time preparing for it (with some help from David); so I hope it goes well. I have just put the dinner on; she should be home soon. Managed to get in an hour’s walk this morning – Dot dropped me off at the Martineau Lane roundabout and I walked up into the city via Long John Hill and then paid in my poem cheque before walking home. Quite chilly weather, but good for walking.