Tag Archives: hendersons

Coffee machine trumps globe light

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On the brink of Christmas. Tomorrow comes the traditional drive to Coventry to fetch Andrew. Today featured the big shop at Waitrose, with Roger due to pop round later.

Back in Caddington several days to go, I took David to Heathrow with quite a lot to spare, thanks to very reasonable traffic, and got back to Caddington even quicker, taking advantage of the spare time to fill up with petrol before having a bath. (That didn’t come out quite how I meant it to.) Later we transported the lovely Amy to Aylesbury: her directions were immaculate, but there was a lot of traffic in the town, and Oliver was home well before we got there.

We waited for Vicky to get back, heard evidence of Oliver’s huge improvement at keyboards, and I shared some TV watching with Amy. We left soon after Vicky got home and headed for Milton Keynes to take advantage of the beautiful A421. Sadly that road had been violated and abused, and there was a 40mph speed limit for almost its entire length, for no obvious reason.

We turned off to try to find a pub, but could find only a Chinese restaurant, and eventually we made do with a Little Chef as we joined the A1. I had an excellent Olympic breakfast, while Dot had something much more sensible. She was driving, and the journey after that was straightforward.

The next evening we joined the Hendersons and friends for a pre-Christmas party and had a good time, meeting people we’d lost touch with, such as Philip and Heather Butcher, Chris and Caroline Brown (David’s old head), Neil and Harriet from Saxlingham and the Dowdeswells. Relaxing, and with some nice things to eat.

I can’t remember what happened the next day. Perhaps Phil came round. I was undoubtedly catching up with countless Christmassy things, making sure all was prepared for the Alternative Christmas Truce Carol Service, and Dot was certainly very busy. I believe she got some service sheets printed for Christmas Eve at some point.

The ACTCS actually went very well, and Geoff and Sophie came along, which was extraordinary – and extremely encouraging. He seemed considerably better. Vicky II was also there with Amy II.  The meal was pretty good, and afterwards we shot off to North-East Norfolk, calling in briefly on Sheila, who had a bad cold; then putting flowers in the cemetery; then diverting to Mundesley to return Lucy’s computer and pick up her cheque; and finally arriving at Jessie’s for tea and  mince pies.

Yesterday I went into the city  to pay in cheques, buy a lock for the church gates and obtain some presents for Amy. I then made the mistake 🙂 of calling in at M&S to find Dot and Anne in the cafe, following which we bought some crackers in BHS (interminable queue) and looked for a globe light for Dot for Christmas. Failing this, we repaired to Jarrolds, where Dot wanted to buy me a book, and on the way out we stumbled across some coffee machines, following which Dot didn’t want a globe light any more. The coffee machine was quite heavy, but apparently it suits requirements. Certainly looks nice.

Later I dropped Andy and Joy’s present in, and while I was there David Street and his girlfriend Sasha called; so we had a brief reminisce. In the evening I played in the Bob Royall Christmas event at the chess club, featuring a number of  types of variant chess (knight can’t take pawn, nothing can move backward, no checks unless it’s mate and queen can’t take any piece, etc). Did predictably badly at this, though two or three of my losses were on time. One good game and a couple of wins.

Julia and Alan Higbee called this morning and were the first to sample the new coffee. Following this we headed for Waitrose, which was predictably stormy  but not unnavigable. We purchased a chicken and some salmon and numerous supporting cast. Later we finished wrapping the presents, but before that remembered we had to pick up my jumper from the dry cleaners and take a couple more items to Dipples. In doing this we discovered that the traffic in the city was pretty bad. Ah well, it’s Christmas. Nearly.

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.

Rattling around as usual

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Fireworks at the Castle, as seen from Aspland RoadFireworks at the Castle, as seen from Aspland Road

As I sit here writing this, my wife is mixing with Royalty. A governor of Little Plumstead Primary School, she is meeting Prince Edward (Earl of Wessex) as he visits the school as part of a Norfolk tour. She was panicking slightly as she left because she had just received an e-mail saying that all the parking places were booked and she should park at the church. She wasn’t sure where that was, but no doubt it all turned out all right.

The weather has remained fairly wintry – or at least autumny. I guess it will remain so till about next May. Not sure humans were ever meant to live at these latitudes. Things have been quite hectic, even without the royalty.

Last Saturday I secured an appointment with my uncle Paul and delivered a version of our family tree that he had requested. Needless to say, he didn’t remember requesting it, but he remembers very little nowadays except who people are. When I rang him to arrange the visit, my cousin Stephen was with him, and I had a quick chat with him. He was very upbeat, despite worsening MS. After a pleasant half an hour, I left Paul to his Wiltshire Farms meal and the opportunity to examine the tree. I’ve had no feedback yet, but he was very appreciative of all my efforts. I said I had enjoyed doing it, which was true.

In the evening we visited another Paul – Henderson of that ilk – who was singing in the Philharmonic at St Andrew’s Hall at the time. Good programme: Debussy’s La Mer (orchestra only), then Lloyd’s Mass, which was excellent. Afterwards Paul and Maryta came back for coffee as the rain beat down, and I drove them home.

Another busy day on Sunday: first the Remembrance Communion at church, led by Howard and with Eleanor officiating and preaching. Reading of the names was emotional as always. Phil had called off both church and the Seagull because of work pressures; so in the afternoon Dot and I drove to Aldeburgh to see James Knox Whittet’s exhibition of sonnets and pictures relating to Islay. Although we missed the opening, we were there in time to see James and his wife – and sample some Islay whisky.

We followed this with fish and chips next door at the Galleon (also excellent) and a brief walk on the seafront in the darkness before heading north to Lowestoft. Dot remembered where there was a Morrisons garage and so we were able to save some money on petrol (we had a voucher). We arrived in Pakefield early and so drove down to the harbour and got a drink at the Harbour Inn, which was unexpected and pleasant. Then on to the Seagull, where we rehearsed for a while. Very few people present; so I got an opportunity to sing three songs and read two poems. Dot accompanied me on two of the songs, but declined on the third.

When we set off for Norwich I left my glasses behind. After searching exhaustively for them at home on Wednesday (after managing without them for a couple of days, assuming they’d turn up) I e-mailed Ian, who not only had found them but was about to travel to Norwich; so he dropped them off yesterday afternoon, while I was out but Dot wasn’t.

Travelled to North Walsham on Monday for a meeting of the Paston Trustees, during which Lucy outlined plans for yet another grant bid – this time for a project that had to be completed by the end of March next year. I pointed out the ridiculously short time frame, but to no avail. She is bidding for the money.

In the early evening Naomi arrived to stay for a couple of nights while she completed some work at the UEA. She planned to leave at 8.30 the following morning, but it was after 9.30 before she appeared. Still, all apparently went well. In the afternoon I had my urology appointment at Cromer. They were running nearly an hour late, and none of the expected things like x-ray and scanning happened. I had a flow test, which was OK, and a bit of an examination, but failed to convince the doctor that anything was wrong. So no change there, then.

Yesterday we took the MX5  in to the garage because of a rattle that I had been worried about for some time. I went for a run with mechanic Wayne (nice bloke), who diagnosed it en route as a loose caliber pin sheath (not sure that’s the right word) on the left front wheel. We left it while he packed it with grease and made sure there was no risk of anything going wrong when Dot travels to Liverpool in about ten days. When we picked it up again in late afternoon, it was much better: Dot also got some new mats, which were remarkably cheap, given the cost of everything else with the name Mazda on it.

While the car was in the garage I paid some cheques in and then went to see The Pity of War, a short piece written by and starring David Newham on the friendship between Siegfried Sassoon and Wilfred Owen and including (of course) some of their work. While waiting to go in I bumped into Sue and Roger, and sat with them. Also said hello to Trevor Burton, another ex-colleague and actor, afterwards, as well as congratulating David.

Unfortunately, though, I had to rush off, because I had an appointment to meet Joy McCall and Nick Gorvin at 3pm to discuss plans for my Iona book, which Joy insists on financing. First time I’ve been to her house, which is impressive – especially the Garden Room. All specially adapted so that she can move around freely in her wheelchair. Also met her husband Andy for the first time and was able to check that he didn’t mind his wife spending her money in producing a book for me. He didn’t.

After some deep discussion and a brief chat about the book, I have agreed to make it thicker so that it can be perfect bound. Joy insists. I think Nick is a bit bemused by the whole thing. I suppose I am really.

Answering sculpture call

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Organ recital at Paston Church, with just a hint of medieval wall painting in the background (right).
Organ recital at Paston Church, with just a hint of medieval wall painting in the background (right).

The scaffolding has departed, the roof seems secure, and a cheque for over £2000 will shortly be winging its way to the builder. So that’s all right. Meanwhile, David is in Canada for Thanksgiving, and I have written three more Iona poems in the hope of getting a book together and keeping Joy happy: she wants me to publish a book of photographs and poems.

On Wednesday I went to see the doctor, who seemed fairly happy with me and in a bit of a hurry for a training session. He is going to book me in for an ultrasound check on my upper stomach/large bowel, but he says my other symptoms (virtually none) make it unlikely that it’s anything too serious. This is not as reassuring as he might have intended it to be.

I left my glasses behind, which he didn’t notice as he flew out of the room, but when I got home, I realised what I’d done. I rang the surgery, to be told it was closed for training. I drove back anyway and found it was indeed closed, which is a rare example of joined-up thinking at Thorpewood. So I had to do without my glasses until the following  morning, when I picked them up from reception.

Later that day, we had our hair cut after a postponement from last week. This is normal – even more normal that postponing a meeting with the Coomes.

Yesterday was the much-heralded Open Day at Paston Church, organised largely by the PCC but partly by the Paston Heritage Society. Dot and I drove out, enjoyed an organ recital, and I took Penny back to North Walsham so that Rob could continue in role as John Paston in a funny hat. On my return there was a talk on medieval wall paintings, which was more interesting than it sounds. Peter was there showing an updated version of the DVD in which Rob appears with animation of a reconstruction of Paston Hall. Impressive, actually. Lucy was there for quite a while, feeling considerably better than of late. Refreshments were superb as usual, despite Brigette being called away because her no-longer-secret barn had flooded.

We called in on Jessie on the way back, adding to our refreshment, and after our return tho Norwich (through a considerable thunderstorm) we got a call from the Hendersons halfway through our mussels. As a result recalled round for champagne and a view (through the darkness) of the new sculpture, which was nicely placed and looking good. We took some cakes, which turned out to be mouldy. Ah well.

Today was Nicholas’ last communion at St Augustine’s, which attracted a motley crew of more than 30 people, including Vicky and Amy and others less distinguished. All very jolly, with excellent cake from Anna and apparently some wine, though this did not reach me. I had a nice cup of tea, though.

Small giraffe thrown in

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High water at the Linn of Quoich
High water at the Linn of Quoich

The Lavenham excursion turned out to be particularly interesting. It was basically a private view by sculptor Kate Denton, who is a former Eltham College parent and who now lives in a house with huge grounds behind the church at Lavenham. The sculptures, some of which populated the gardens, were actually brilliant and equally actually hugely expensive. I cannot say how much Maryta spent on one she had set her heart on, but there was a small giraffe thrown in. I was impressed by Kate, who remembered my name as she said goodbye. It doesn’t take much…

We followed up this delight with another one, calling in at Nayland to see Maryta’s sister Terry and her husband Keith. They had recently taken delivery of an Aga for roughly the same outlay as Maryta’s sculpture. Where are we going wrong? Anyway, the tea and refreshments were lovely, and so were the hosts.

The following day (Saturday) we set off for Caddington for a late celebration of Oliver’s 12th birthday. Dot had baked a cake because she knew she was going. We had a lovely day, playing games (including one Amy had invented, and continued inventing as we played it). She is very clever at this kind of thing, and the game proved very playable and fun. We helped provide the food for lunch, and in the evening David cooked an excellent spaghetti bolognaise.  On the way home I detected that Dot was about to go to sleep while driving and took over at Thetford.

On Sunday after Communion, at which I sang my new song, Dot and I invigilated at the old church, which was open for Heritage Weekend. If I were to say we had few visitors during our hour, that would be pretty much spot on. However, we did have the guy who was supposed to have been invigilating the previous hour but got it wrong. Other than that, four, but Norwich Heart had admittedly forgotten to include it in their list of Norwich churches that were open – much to Stuart’s disgust.

Afterwards we went out to Norwich and visited the cemetery and a house that has just come on to the market and caught Dot’s eye. Quite nice, actually. Jessie was unfortunately out, but we left her a present from Scotland (Ecclefechan cakes). In the evening Dot left for Barbara’s, where she stayed the night, before they both headed south this morning for Rayleigh and then Canterbury for two P4C sessions. At least, I presume they did. I haven’t heard anything.

Meanwhile I have done some shopping and am awaiting the arrival of my cousin Ann and her husband Jim, who are presumably on the road from Surrey, where they spent the weekend.

The godfather: a sequel

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Holly a few years ago

Holiday approaching fast. Dot is completing her packing today – or at least making a list –  prior to a day in London with Anne.  I will be packing too, but I have a “dress” rehearsal with Chronicle this afternoon.

Last night I met my god-daughter Holly for the first time since her wedding. She is now divorced and seems very happy: we had a lovely evening with her and her parents, Paul and Maryta, at Prezzos. The waiter was excellent, and Paul insisted on paying. How much better could it get? They also spent some time with us before and after the meal, and I discovered that Holly is a science fiction fan, especially Iain M Banks and Alastair Reynolds. I recommended Robert Holdstock’s Lavondyss and Mythago Wood, and lent her copies.

Dot was particularly pleased to have a good meal, because she had been fasting over Monday night in preparation for a blood test early yesterday. This meant that she was not able to have either the tea or the cake at Bridget and David’s during our monthly “cake and compline” gathering. Still, she could do the compline. Judy took us in her new car because she was a bit worried about parking it next to ours. So she had to park it at the Archers’, which is even more of a challenge.

On arrival home we forgot to retrieve the child seats which she had left at ours, so I took them to her yesterday morning while Dot was waiting for her blood test.

On Sunday we had another downpour or two – the biggest one as church ended. We were afraid that our living room would be flooded again, and were relieved (and surprised) to discover no water at all on the floor when we got home. The rain and wind were  apparently the tail end of Hurricane Bertha – much worse in some other parts of the country.

We were a bit hesitant about fulfilling our scheduled visit to Walpole Old Chapel, near Halesworth, in the late afternoon for a poetry reading. But in Suffolk there had been little rain, and it was sunny and quite warm (though a bit windy). We were amazed at the number of people there – probably around a couple of dozen or more reading – and we all got to read three shortish poems or two long ones.

I read Something is required, Flood levels and Pelican, and they seemed to be well received. Mike Bannister, the organiser, was very welcoming and wanted me to read again at another Suffolk group. Another woman (wife of Hebridean poet James Knox Whittet) was convinced she knew me, but we couldn’t work out where or how. The whole affair lasted about 2½ hours. The chapel itself was amazing.

All this followed a full Saturday, which started with Dot visiting the doctor and getting a positive response to her complaint about her thyroxin tablets being cut. (She had been feeling under the weather, apparently as a result.) This doctor restored her former dose and said she could quote him if they tried to cut it again.

From here we proceeded to Jessie’s and then to the Gunton Arms, where we had an unexpectedly  full lunch. I had been anticipating a sandwich, but we were sat at a restaurant table, so I felt I had to order a proper meal. This was a mistake, but quite typical of me. However, the shoulder of lamb was excellent. I shouldn’t have had the cheese and biscuits, though. Felt too full the rest of the day, which included Denise’s 70th birthday party in the evening.

This was fun, despite our not knowing many of the people there: it is after all 30 years since we lived in Yelverton. We chatted with the Jarys and especially enjoyed catching up with Keith, Clive and Elaine. I also had a longish chat with Barbara, who is not well but remains cheerful. It was also nice to talk to the Wrights’ new next-door neighbours, a youngish couple (though they have an 18-year-old boy who is interested in journalism).

Elliott makes his entrance

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Elliott getting the measure of his father
Elliott getting the measure of his father

Funny few days. Haven’t been feeling particularly well, but not sure why. Today my stomach feels odd, but I hope to be well enough to go to Caddington this afternoon.

On Wednesday, after Dot had been to Park Farm and I had been for a short walk, we went to the Queen’s Head in Hethersett for lunch, and I had a sort of brunch. Slow service, but the food was good. Dot dropped me off in St Augustine’s afterwards, and I paid the church cheques in at the TSB, then walked home. Felt completely flaked out when I arrived. Weather was quite mild – maybe I was too warm!

Yesterday we had two unexpected visitors (in the sense that we only knew about them shortly before they arrived). First came the Hendersons, who are on the verge of buying a house on Ipswich Road: Dot felt the call to make some rock cakes, which were very nice. Then my great-nephew Elliott made an appearance, accompanied by his parents. They are staying with Phil and Joy.

Elliott is a bit of a star, with a lovely smile, and I took some quite reasonable photos, together with some very bad ones.

Earlier in the day I wrote a new poem and sent it and a couple of others off to competitions. I don’t know why I keep doing this: they hardly ever do anything, and it means I can’t publish them until the competition is over. Still, you have to keep trying.

We keep watching the winter Olympics, but I can’t take many of the events seriously. In my view anything that gets style marks is not a sport.

Meandering to success

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Chronicle performing at the launch of the Paston exhibition at NRO
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.

Surrounded by bees

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Paul Henderson (left) with Chessie and Jozef at their engagement party
Paul Henderson (left) with Chessie and Jozef at their engagement party

It’s coming up to 7am, and I’ve been awake since 4 – up and about since 5.15. This is an aftermath of my endeavours in the last two days to book a flight to Florida for next April: a process that drove me so crazy I had to lie down under the bedclothes yesterday evening with blood rushing round my head. In the end I was making repeated online attempts to confirm that it had gone through, together with numerous calls to both the website operators and Barclaycard. During all this I also booked a car which was probably too expensive, but I had lost the will to even discuss it.

This came after about a week of not getting enough sleep, which is worrying as I know this makes me prone to illness, but there’s nothing I can do about it. Things just seem to pile up.

A week ago we had a Paston trustees’ meeting out at Dayspring. The journey out there was pretty awful, obstructed by a series of dawdling drivers, but the meeting was OK. Unfortunately I haven’t had time since to write the minutes, and as I rely quite a lot on remembering what was said to fill out my notes, this is rather worrying. I feel sure there were some other things I had to do as a result of the meeting, but let’s hope that’s in my notes.

On the Wednesday we had Sophie  round for lunch – in the garden – and afterwards I went with her to visit Geoff, who is making more progress. His left side is a bit more mobile, and the doctor was optimistic about his feet. It became clear too that he can read, though he finds it difficult to read aloud and still forgets a lot of words.  Sophie took in a cassette player for him. Since then he has been moved to the West Norwich Hospital and according to Sophie is getting a lot of therapeutic help. I am trying to contribute by organising visits, but not with a great deal of success.

After leaving the hospital I called in on Margaret Comerford, who had some money for the church from her meditation group. We sat in her tiny garden in King Street surrounded by bees.

On Thursday Phil drove me to Coventry, and we took Andrew out for lunch. He is vastly improved. He suggested the Post House at Allesley, but on the way there we saw a Harvester and ate there. A very good meal: I like the Harvester system. Afterwards we drove to Corley (where else?) and then to Memorial Park before returning Andrew to Minster Lodge. The journey both ways was pretty straightforward, but of course tiring. I now have to contact the council again to sort out his money, which will reach a critical level again within a couple of months or less.

While I was in Coventry the car went in for a new condenser, and Dot collected it after spending a few hours sorting out papers and photographs with Angela at A Ethel’s place in Hethersett. Meanwhile Amanda has died suddenly, after suffering pancreatitis and a chest infection. Her funeral has been fixed for this Thursday, unfortunately, when we are tied up taking Anna to Houghton Hall for the St Petersburg exhibition. We have sent flowers, and Angela is representing us.

Andrew and Phil at Corley Rocks
Andrew and Phil at Corley Rocks

Friday was a bit different, not least in that it rained quite a bit, but mainly in that I spent most of it filming in the city with Peter Stibbons for the Paston DVD.  We started in the Briton’s Arms and took in most of the Paston sites. It was quite strange standing in the street speaking to a camera that was not always totally adjacent. Sadly, no-one asked for my autograph, but a group of lads on the Julian Bridge did want to know which channel we would be on. We had lunch at home and ended with a cup of tea there. A fascinating experience. The filming, not the tea.

In the evening we were on the move again, up to Loch Fyne for my birthday meal with the Robinsons, only a month or so late. Again excellent food and friendly service, but very slow. With four of us, it didn’t matter much. Had some excellent halibut. Late birthday gifts of prosecco and chocolate: perfect.

On the road again on Saturday, starting fairly early for a trip to Mottingham, where the Hendersons were putting on an engagement party for Jozef and Chessie. All very agreeable: had some interesting conversations with people from Norfolk and with Maryta’s sister and niece, as well as with Paul and Maryta themselves. Got cut off in the middle of a promising conversation with former head Chris Brown, but ended up talking in depth with Chessie’s mother, from New York State, and her friend Béatrice from Avignon. Click here if you read French. Then we raced the rain back to Norfolk, and won.

Since then I’ve been trying to catch up with e-mails and paperwork. Before the flights fiasco I was spending most of my time sorting out church finances, and I paid some cheques into the bank yesterday. The weather continues warm, which enabled me to slot in a bit of bush-trimming in the front garden, so that the brown bin was suitably charged, ready for emptying today. Yesterday this account was hacked by some Bangladeshis, but fortunately David was able to save the day and sort it out.

Close to heaven on earth

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David and Chrissy

Another packed week, starting last Sunday (as weeks do) with an evening meal at the Greens’. The four of us were joined by Anna’s sister, Nicola (Mendikova) and her friend Jane (John) from Trowse. Fantastic evening: good food and wine, plus excellent conversation. Suggested to Howard afterwards that this was pretty close to my idea of heaven on earth: good food, good wine and conversation with four beautiful women.

On Monday I managed to beat Norman Thomas at chess, bringing my score to 5/7, but even if I beat Andy P tomorrow, the tournament result depends on other scores. I’ve decided that I’m going to have a proper break from chess next year.

Tuesday saw Dot and I on the road to Warwick to visit Andrew in hospital. The day started bright but deteriorated sharply later, with quite a bit of rain. Andrew was in a sorry state, possibly the worst I’ve seen him. We were able to talk to the nurse, the doctor and Andrew’s new care worker, Elaine (bubbly), plus his old case worker, Paul, who is pretty tight-lipped. Afterwards Dot and I went to look at Andrew’s prospective new home, Minster Lodge, which is for people with mental health problems. The room earmarked for him is quite nice, with steps to the garden, but the place is a bit of a warren, and I’m not sure how he’ll get on with the 23 other residents. I was however impressed with the manager, Helen.

In between Warwick and Minster Lodge, Dot and I had fish and chips at the Burnt Post on Kempas Highway. Excellent. Bit of nostalgia there: very close to one of my childhood homes in Beanfield Avenue. Of course we would never have darkened the doors of the Burnt Post in those days.

On Wednesday I had a blood test, and in the evening a DCC meeting – on my own, while Dot was at an orchestra rehearsal. On Thursday we installed Infinity, or at least BT did. The engineer was outstanding. He arrived shortly before I had to leave for a session with Sharon, my physiotherapist and was extremely helpful, brushing aside fears that our set-up, featuring a hole in the wall, might present problems. By the time I got home he was about to leave, and everything was working fine and fast.

The next day we travelled down to Mottingham to visit the Hendersons. Maryta’s father was also staying, and he is in good shape mentally for 88, though rather fragile physically. After lunch we walked round the grounds and had a look at the new school Gallery, with its Mervyn Peake exhibition, in the company of the headmaster and his wife!

The following morning we left just after 10am to travel to Caddington – a 1¼-hour trip through the Blackwall tunnel and along the M11 and M25. We arrived shortly before David and the children got back from swimming in the company of Chrissy, who had arrived from Canada the previous day. We all went for lunch at the Red Lion somewhere in the country (beyond Markyate), a lovely pub with excellent service. Amy was not feeling too well, and we left without having sweet. However, this was compensated for somewhat by Chrissy’s pavlova, which she completed after the children were picked up by Vicky. Before that however I had a good session of cricket in the garden with Oliver, who is a promising bowler. Others joined in now and then.

We left not long after enjoying the pavlova, and Dot drove back to Norwich in close to a record time. I was feeling shattered. Meanwhile I suspect that Caddington was close to heaven on earth for those left behind.