Tag Archives: church

Several fantasy lands

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Dot on the path from Spout Hills to the Letheringsett Water Mill.

Life doesn’t get any slower, but at least the weather is something approaching mild today. I stepped outside to go to the supermarket, wondering which coat to wear, and realised I didn’t need a coat at all. Deep shock. We did have some sun last week, but the wind was very chilly, and when we went to Blakeney for a concert on Saturday, it was grey and verging on cold. No, it actually was cold.

The concert, in the church, was good, though: the Mozart Orchestra playing (mainly) Beethoven’s Concerto for Violin. And the violinist, Fiona Hutchins, was brilliant, clearly having a lot of fun, and no self-importance whatsoever. We sat in the third row, and it was great to watch her close-up. She is normally the orchestra leader, and they clearly got on well.

Before that we ate sandwiches in our car on the quay, and then had a quick drink in the bar at the Blakeney Hotel as the tide raced in.

The previous day was much warmer and sunny; so we went to Holt and walked at Spout Hills and across the fields to Letheringsett Water Mill, which was just closing. So we went back up into town and had tea and scone at Byfords (always wonderful), followed by a bit of food shopping at Bakers & Larners. Earlier I’d picked up my new glasses from Boots, who have just texted me to say I missed my appointment. They clearly need glasses.

Going further back into the mists of time, on Wednesday Nicholas talked me through a service I’m leading at the old church on the 23rd. Last night I had a bad dream about leading a service and not having anything with me that I should have.  And it hadn’t even been preying on my mind, though I’m not at all sure I can remember everything Nicholas said. It is preying on my mind now, of course. I have to put the order of service together and choose some hymns; then I should be OK. Let us prey.

At the PCC that same evening I met the new parish treasurer, who gave me a document to pin up in the church. Something to do with insurance. Unfortunately I lost it on the way home: I was walking because Dot had the car, which is still in the garage and will be for at least a week, probably more. I am pretending the document never existed. It won’t be long before I start pretending the car never existed.

Sharon had a particularly effective go at my shoulder on Thursday, and it’s been feeling much better since. But I am still awaiting the results of the x-ray.

Busy day on Sunday. After preaching on raising the dead (no visual aids) we went to Adrian Ward’s 60th birthday party at Cringleford, arriving just in time for the food but too early for the only other people we knew (except Adrian and his wife). Martin Laurance eventually turned up, complete with new eye surgery, and later Annette and Teri. In between, Caroline, who read some poems from her Pepys book following a guy who played cello for rather a long time. Dot and I then had to rush away because we were performing  at the Seagull in the evening. No music this time, but Dot did assist in a tanka series, and I did a few other poems. Very good young singer-guitarist there called Matthew Shepherd, of whom I expect great things.

And then there was yesterday, when Phil drove me to Coventry/Warwick to visit Andrew. We visited Minster Lodge first and left some money for the man who was transporting Andrew’s belongings from the Langleys. Then to Warwick, and a bit of a challenge finding the entrance to Andrew’s new ward, the Rowans. All the staff very pleasant. Andrew was less manic but still firmly inhabiting a fantasy land – or to be more accurate, several fantasy lands. We had a chat with the ward manager and the consultant, then headed for home, stopping only for an Olympic breakfast at Thrapston. Well, you have to, don’t you?

And now Linda is just finishing Dot’s hair, having cut mine halfway through this blog. Tuesday Group tonight, which I will have to sort out myself, because Dot has a meeting at 6.30pm. She may or may not be back for our meal.

Big Day survives winter’s tail

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Jessie cuts the cake

The snow is still with us, though it has stopped falling from the sky for a while. Some intrepid guy has spread sand on Aspland Road up to halfway, so there is no problem reaching the top. In fact we have been able to reach the top right through the current cold spell – though admittedly we haven’t been out much in the car.

Yesterday we did, though – because it was the Big Day, Jessie’s 80th, and a gathering had been scheduled to take place at the Wayford Bridge Inn for lunch. There had been a lot of snow late on Sunday, and I was a bit worried about emerging in view of the whiteness of the road; I took it very, very slowly down and reached the bottom with no problem. After that it was plain sailing. We picked Jude up from her house on Riverside Road, and the main roads in the county were more or less clear.

In fact the roads were so clear that, much to Jessie’s delight (and ours), David made a last-minute decision to come from Caddington and arrived in time – before some people who had come from North Walsham! The only person who didn’t make it, I think, was a friend who couldn’t get out of her drive in Acle. The Wayford Bridge Inn was excellent: staff very attentive and a first-class meal. I had one of the best steaks I’ve had for a very long time.

Amazing

There were 14 of us – Jessie; Dot, David and myself; Janet and Ray with Judy and her husband from St Albans; Roger, Liz and Philip; Jude; and George and Fiona. Afterwards David returned to Caddington and arrived in time for his swimming lesson in the evening. The rest of us went back to Jessie’s for the amazing cake that was our present to her – baked, of course, by the equally amazing Marion Sturgeon from Alburgh.

We headed for home just before 6pm, as it started to snow slightly. No real problems getting back. After we dropped Jude I was about to turn into Aspland Road when I noticed a car doing a three-point turn (!!) so continued right up Prince of Wales Road and turned round to approach from the other – and preferable – direction. This time a car was stuck two thirds of the way up; so I reversed to the bottom, and when he had finished slithering around and being pushed to the side of the road, I took a run at it and made the top easily.

Since last Thursday we had two lots of visitors who were not deterred by the weather: on Thursday the Kibbles and on Saturday the Robinsons, who decided to park outside the sorting office and walk through. Not necessarily a good idea: Philip fell over while pushing a car that was sliding around while turning at the top and coming to rest in the gutter (the car, not Philip). He was OK, though, and we had a good evening: Dot cooked some delicious steak and ale.

On Sunday we emerged for church and had no real problems, arriving very early – but not before Geoff Saunders, who was leading the service. Eventually we had 17, which is pretty good and no different from a normal Sunday, though it was quite  treacherous underfoot. Afterwards Dot and I parked near Fye Bridge and walked up to Mandells Gallery for Martin Laurance’s private view. Brilliant exhibition as always; we almost bought a painting, but by the time we got round to it, someone else had bought it. Damn spot.

Spoke briefly to Martin and at greater length to his partner Val; then to Annette and Mike, and Rupert. Several familiar faces from the Norfolk art world. Martin is quite interested in collaborating on some poetry-and-art project, which would be great if it came off. Have spoken to several people about possible book projects recently, but nothing definite. Still, it’s good to have irons in the fire. The tanka collaboration continues.

Meanwhile, Lucy has managed to fall over in the snow and injure her shoulder, as if she didn’t have enough problems. She is in hospital at Cromer, and so Rob and I have to represent her at the Norfolk Record Office on Thursday, which means I shall have to cancel a doctor’s appointment. Annoying, when they are so hard to come by. At present I am trying to make up my mind whether to have a Tuesday Group meeting tonight. No snow is forecast for today, so it should be possible, but there is still a lot of snow up here, and if certain people fell over, we would never be able to get them up again.

 

Key in the safe, and silver missing

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And so we inch up to the end of the year – quite slowly, in fact, as it’s not far off 11am, and I’m the only one downstairs. Of course we all need the rest. We haven’t been venturing out much because of the inhospitable weather, but there has been plenty of action indoors, mainly connected with gadgets of one sort or another, but occasionally new games invented by Amy, plus bursts of Carcassonne, Dixit and Coppit. Very pleased with my iPhone4, and Dot is rapidly becoming part of her iPhone5.

We had a particularly nice evening meal yesterday, which turned into a game of I-Spy and lots of laughter. Earlier we’d been to see Auntie Ethel, who noticed that the children had got much taller. She noticed this many times during our short visit, and tried hard to get us to eat something, but as we’d just had a sizeable lunch, no-one could be tempted. She seemed quite well physically.

On Sunday Amy was much exercised as tho whether she should go to church or not, but in the end decided against. So Dot and I went on our own. I preached a sermon on how we are liberated by being forgiven. Slight consternation when we discovered the key in the safe door and the silver missing, but in the end it turned out that Nicholas had placed the silver elsewhere and forgotten to lock the safe after the Midnight Communion on Saturday. Ho, hum.

On Saturday David and the children had been planning a visit to the Coomes at Bishop’s Stortford, but Jane rang early on with the news that Alistair had been ill or night, so this was abandoned. I spent quite a lot of time writing my sermon, but the others played a lot of games and amused themselves otherwise. Oliver and I also prepared a quiz for tonight. I hope I can remember the answers.

 

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.

Old songs in new settings

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Amy, Oliver and Nana at Elveden during a recent visit.

Busy times continue, hence the delay in posting this. Dot is now working on her inspection report: she was at Linton infants’ school in Cambridgeshire yesterday, having stayed the night at the Crown Inn, where she was presented with a massive breakfast at 7.30am. Fortunately the school was a very good one, and so the report should not be too hard to write. But it may be her last inspection: the effort is becoming incommensurate with the reward, and the new system of organisation has made it less flexible for inspectors.

While she was away I attended a PCC meeting (Monday night), at which Nicholas’ plans for a new Sunday evening community were discussed and generally approved, and a lengthy meeting of Paston trustees with Peter Stibbons (yesterday afternoon) about a planned Paston DVD. I was also able to talk to him briefly about a copy of my Norfolk poetry book that I had sent to him some time ago (he is also a publisher), and he recommended someone else, who I will try. A slow process.

Dot got back from Cambridgeshire in time for a Tuesday Group at the Archers’ last night. The Group has settled into a fairly constant eight: the Archers, Dot and I, Vicky, Judy, Ian and Harriet. Last night we watched a Rob Bell Nooma video, about bad reasons for attending church (among other things). He does that sort of thing very well.

Before Dot went to Linton on Monday evening we went shopping and I bought some slippers from M&S that turned out to be too small. Yesterday I took them back and changed them, which turned out to be remarkably easy. Later I did some shopping at Morrisons: I had mistimed it somewhat and it was a big rush to get to the Paston meeting, but I did just make it, despite the usual ditherers doing a constant 45mph on the road to North Walsham and even less between NW and Paston.

We had actually been to North Walsham on Sunday too, calling at the cemetery before taking tea and mince pies with Jessie and showing her how to work her new Samsung tablet. To be fair Roger had already shown her, but apparently rather too quickly. Earlier we had been at a Remembrance service at St Augustine’s, where Stuart gave a talk on a parishioner who died in France shortly before the end of the war, having experienced little fighting in the Middle East up to that point. Fascinating stuff, despite being delivered in a less than charismatic way. This was followed by some more of Carrie’s legendary soup, which again gave me heartburn. I mean, soup?! How can that happen?

Incidentally, I have recorded my new song, Woman at the Window, and given a copy to Phil. We may use it on our next Seagull visit.

The previous days had also been much concerned with church, of one sort or another. We had one of our visiting speakers at St Luke’s on Friday and Saturday – this time Cyprian Consiglio, a monk and musician from California. I didn’t hear an awful lot of what he said, but what I heard was extremely interesting, and his guitar-playing was brilliant. Phil, who is much more of a technician than me, was extremely impressed.

Phil was actually organising the volunteers for CC, and I gave him a hand on the Thursday (preparation) and nearly all Friday, when I had a chance to chat to the delightful Archie and Cathy Cameron, from Agape, who record the speaker events. Turns out they were born in the Gorbals, Glasgow, at almost the same time as Dot, and they spoke glowingly of the community there, where they also grew up. Dot’s Mum had also said how kind the people were.

Meanwhile on the Friday Dot was leading a Nafpht conference at Mangreen on Philosophy4Children. She had been extremely nervous and spent loads of time on preparation. She did the morning sessions entirely on her own, and Barbara came in the afternoon. Needless to say, it went very well, and she has got some good feedback, plus a possible booking at a Yarmouth school.

On the Saturday I popped up to St Luke’s at lunchtime to see if Phil needed help, and I assisted in clearing away the tables downstairs. I had intended helping at the end (5pm), but suddenly remembered that Dot and I were due to attend a thanksgiving event for Norwich Youth for Christ, of which she was formerly a trustee. This included a buffet at 6pm, much earlier than I had thought. It was at the Gateway Vineyard church in Nelson Street (formerly Mount Zion) and was very enjoyable. Spent some time talking to Don Guyton about Surrey and related things. The service was pretty far removed from the contemplative approach of CC, but was very well done, including contributions from choir and an excellent worship band. Interesting how they used old songs which I knew from my childhood – but in new settings. Lovely atmosphere. NYFC do a great job.

Way back last Thursday I attended a meeting of Paston trustees without Peter Stibbons, and we went through a lengthy agenda which included attracting new trustees and allocating new roles following the departure of Jo Berry and Lin Pearman for health reasons. I am now the secretary, and managed to produce some minutes which approximated roughly to what was said. Not as easy as it might be, as Lucy is difficult to follow at times.

Tea at Mannington Hall

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Amy enjoying the sea at Mundesley last week

Have managed to reach Friday in a rather stressful week. The roof has been fixed temporarily, and the ceiling has a tasteful white sheet covering the holes and the damp section. It stayed up at the second attempt. The second surveyor (for the builders) said the asbestos positive meant the whole ceiling would have to be removed and reinstated, which would involve moving all the furniture out and making good afterwards. Haven’t heard the insurance company’s reaction to this, but it leaves us still in limbo, which I hate. I am not good at waiting.

Meanwhile Dot has finished the wall-painting, and I have painted the trapdoor to the loft, because I am taller. Well, to be more accurate, I have painted it once, and I am about to paint it again. Dot is now immersed in improving the look of the garden, and keeps arriving home with a car full of plants. Keep catching bits  of the Olympics, but not always the right bits. Happily the BBC website is quite good on videos of bits you miss. I am as pro-Team GB as anyone, but I did rather enjoy those South African rowers who came from miles back to snatch the gold.

Two further sources of stress: intermittent Broadband connection at the beginning of the week for no apparent reason; and the unexpected difficulty of finding transport for church members without cars who want to go on a boat trip to St Benet’s Abbey on Sunday for the afternoon service. This would have been difficult enough anyway, but Dot and I are taking Phil and going on to Lowestoft afterwards for our third Seagull gig, so couldn’t take anyone. One of our members with a car didn’t know if she was going until Thursday, another (understandably) didn’t want to come into the city to collect people, and the two people at St Luke’s who might have helped were unreachable by phone or email. Howard could borrow a people carrier but couldn’t drive it because he had no insurance. Aargh! In the end I gatecrashed the Vicarage and spoke to Heather, with the result that Nicholas is going to drive the people carrier.

Our church is full of people who can’t drive or don’t have a car, or both. On Thursday Ian asked me to pick him up from the City College midway through the evening, which I did, of course.

Tuesday was kind of a highlight, because I had tea with Lord and Lady Walpole at Mannington Hall. Also present were Lucy, Jo and John, and we were discussing the Paston event at the Hall in October (weekend of 27–28). As Chronicle, the four of us – Caroline, Rob, Kay and I – are going to do two half-hour slots, but we will have to rework The Heroine of Hungate to introduce a Mannington connection. This is not quite as obscure as I thought it was (there is a 15th century marriage), but it will take a bit of working out. Afterwards Jo and John paid for lunch for Lucy and myself (and them) at the Saracen’s Head. Very impressive spot for lunch. Excellent food. Probably the fist gooseberry compote with mackerel I have ever had.

In the evening Tuesday Group was at the Archers, and another excellent repast – this time sausages and mashed potatoes – was followed by a very tasty video by Rob Bell. This was almost matched culturally on Thursday by a second attempt at a poetry group at the Narthex at St John’s Roman Catholic Cathedral, led by Hilary Mellon. Ten of us present, and it worked much better than the one on Betjeman. We looked closely at three of six Larkin poems that he had read out electronically and without hiccoughs at the start. Found myself liking his work a lot, though not his rather dour philosophy.

Have just made a list of areas for which I am responsible, in an attempt to work out why I never have time to do anything. I am up to 24 at the moment.

Bob Brolly and the birthday party

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Katy Wakely with her mother and brother at her 40+ birthday party in Ditchingham village hall

Yes, it is still raining. Funny you should ask. Not surprising, since April is the cruellest month. While I was staying dry by not going out the other day, however, I did make an interesting discovery in the family tree area.

For a long time I had been wondering why my father’s parents were living in Mansfield before they moved to Norwich, since his mother was born in Sheffield, and his father’s family was long established in the area immediately to the west of Peterborough (Yaxley, Normans Cross, Folkesworth…). Then I discovered when looking at newly online records that my grandmother’s parents were not from the Sheffield area: one was born in Shirebrook and the other in Kneesall. What do these two small places have in common? They are near Mansfield. What could be more natural that the newly married couple should go and live either with or near the wife’s parents’ relatives? Well, it makes sense to me.

Meanwhile, back in the 21st century, we had the church annual meeting and dinner at St Luke’s last Tuesday, while Dot was in Thames Ditton, preparing for a philosophy session. Good meal, but a longish “farewell” to John and Jean Easton, who weren’t really going anywhere, but were stepping down from several church posts because they had reached the age of 70. Took Ian and returned with both Ian and Tim Mace, managing to return the jacket TM had left at our house several weeks previously.

On Wednesday a remarkable event that turned out badly for me. I went to the doctor’s surgery to get my blood pressure checked, and arrived a quarter of an hour early, intending to go to the loo and then sit quietly, breathing deeply, until I was called into the surgery about half an hour later if I was lucky. Wouldn’t you know that I was called when I was in the loo, which obviously pushed my blood pressure up, or at least stopped it going down. Very annoying. I am now on another pill, which may be irritating my stomach. I’ve had a couple of bad nights. We shall see. What was remarkable? Being called into the surgery a quarter of an hour early. Almost unheard-of.

Despite the weather I did take part in the Reading the Past in the Landscape walk at Paston on Saturday, which was just as well, since the guy leading it didn’t know the path back from the edge of the cliff. I felt almost useful. Also climbed Stow windmill, which was nice, though greyness restricted the view. Refreshments were at Lucy’s.   The confusion over St Peter Hungate has not been totally resolved, but it’s heading in the right direction. I’ve left Rob sorting out the publicity with Lucy, which seems like a plan, as the Murrays would say.

In the evening we took the Greens to Ditchingham village hall for the 40+ party of Katy Wakeley, who is the granddaughter of our former church member, Maud Lincoln, and sometimes comes to church with her mother Chris. Like Maud, Katy is mainly in a wheelchair: she has ME very badly. She got out of it to cut her cake on this occasion. Chris and Ray were also there with Phyllis, and there was some dancing to an Irish band led by Bob Brolly, which is his real name. He also broadcasts on Midlands radio. They weren’t bad, actually. I don’t know if I mentioned this, but it was raining. Hard. All evening. Bob Brolly asked me to lead the men in singing Happy Birthday. Strangely, I was not at all nervous about this. Times change.

The party food was excellent, but for some reason my stomach reacted badly to it and I was awake for much of the night. After communion this morning I didn’t feel up to going to Fakenham for Caroline’s party, so I made my excuses and stayed home. Dot is busy working on her DSSO visits for the current term.

Moving furniture and poems

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This morning at 22 Aspland Road

Seem to have been working quite hard, which is not like me. On Friday, while Dot was out and about, I listened to the King Street interviews and wrote five poems, four of which I’ve sent off a few minutes ago to the person in charge of the project. Most of my time, however, has been spent moving furniture in preparation for the grand floor-change enterprise, which will take up most of this coming week.

Some of the furniture has gone in the garage, some upstairs. The big filing cabinet is in the downstairs loo (all the files were removed and then replaced), and the smaller one in the utility room with the fridge. Smaller things are upstairs or (again) in the garage. We tried to move the big table into the garage, but it was beyond us. We may be able to manage it tomorrow, when Gary comes to take up the carpet and screw down the chipboard. He is a carpenter, so he should be able to move tables.

This morning, after about three or four inches of overnight snow, we decided to walk to church. Quite pleasant too, except that I arrived home absolutely exhausted. I don’t know why, because we’d had a meal at church. Admittedly, walking in snow is tiring, but we’d had no problem in the Peak District. Maybe moving furniture took more out of me than I thought. We bade farewell to Matthew at church today. He is off to London this week. However, more things are now happening at church, and I’m optimistic about it.

Last Friday we had an evening meal with the Kibbles. Rod is a nice guy who goes into things in great depth. I try to keep up. Next day (yesterday) Dot got a ticket from Jonathan to watch Norwich beat Bolton 2-0. Lucy is out of hospital, but far from well.

Eating out with Jessie

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Only the year is different: Jessie celebrates last year at the Banningham Crown. This year same Jessie, same place, same pavlova.

Jessie is having her bathroom noisily rebuilt – to a plan by Roger – and so we took her out yesterday to lunch at the Gunton Arms (Elderton Grange reincarnated in more pubby but still upmarket mode). More accurately, as it turned out, she took us out for lunch, but as it was a snack and a drink, I decided to allow it. My smoked salmon pate and toast was delicious; Jessie had a venison sausage roll and Dot a smoked salmon and cream cheese bagel. All very good, with deer in the background and a touch of sun – which was a change from yesterday, when it hardly got light at all.

This was the second meal out with Jessie in less than week. As I mentioned last time, we went for an evening meal to the Banningham Crown last Saturday with Jessie, Roger and Liz, and that was excellent too. I had a game pie, followed by an impressive pavlova. If you had a league table of service standards, the Crown would be at the top: welcoming, efficient and very friendly throughout. Food is good too. Not entirely convinced that the garage has fixed my lights – in fact pretty sure it hasn’t, but I really can’t be bothered to go back. They will have to sort them out when they do the service in the middle of February.

After preaching on the wedding at Cana on Sunday I watched Senna, a film that David had got me for Apple TV. It was excellent: Senna himself came over very well, and the ending was particularly poignant, with an inevitability about it. Funny how all this background story totally passes you by at the time.

On Monday evening we went to a planning meeting at the vicarage. Nicholas has an idea about introducing a monthly Sunday evening service aimed at people who are turned off by “church”. It’s a communion service, but much simpler and with no hymns. Obviously. I managed to avoid getting too involved, although I’m in favour of it. I have enough to do at St Augustine’s at the moment – as well as organising the services, I’ve been dealing with the accounts this week, trying to get the to balance as near as I can. Hard to do it when the start point is so obscure.

Before seeing Jessie yesterday I had a visit from Rob: we had a discussion about various Paston futures. Lucy is in Papworth again with a worsening prognosis, and I’m not sure when she’ll emerge. I’ve spoken to her on the phone a couple of times, and she seems remarkably cheerful.

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.