Not an Australian poet, but Andrew on the beach at Winterton
A quiet few days in terms of getting out of the house, but of course the Olympics were coming to a climax and Dot was also – well – reaching the apogee of her house-cleaning programme preparatory to welcoming the Murrays when we return from Devon. The house now looks terrific and I am beginning to relax a bit. The weather has been good.
Have been out a bit, though. Yesterday, after our regular haircut, I rendezvoused with Lisa D’Onofrio and had a late lunchlet at Waterstone’s. As literature development officer back in 2003, she opened the door for me to take part in a poetry project which eventually turned into InPrint, and so changed my life, transforming me from a closet poet into a real one. She is a really good poet in her own right, but she is now living in Australia, her home country. We had a good 90 minutes of reminiscence and catching-up, following which I bought a new pair of trainers.
On Sunday Dot and I went to see Jessie after visiting the cemetery at North Walsham. It was actually a bit warm to sit in her summerhouse, so we moved indoors for scones and strawberries. She seems very well, apart from family worrries.
Last night I had my second game of chess this calendar year – a bizarre affair in the first round of the club knockout tournament. I got a clear advantage fairly early on and should have won, but I was too timid, blundered and then he was clearly winning. But he dropped a piece, and I got the advantage again, but couldn’t make anything of an extra pawn in a queen ending. So we have to play again in September. Not a classic. However, I picked up my prize for best game played at the club last season, which turned out to be a£25 John Lewis voucher – more than 100% larger than I thought it would be.
The Olympics has now ended, but it lingers on in the newspapers and on TV. After a brilliant opening ceremony, the closing ceremony was very poor musically (two songs from George Michael and Russell Brand singing a Beatles song – is that the best we can do?) though it did end with The Who, bringing a bit of belated class to the proceedings. Someone said that before the Olympics, everyone thought we were poor at sport but brilliant at music: now…
Relaxing moment on the cliff between Mundesley and Paston during the wet and windy walk at the end of April.
On the brink of our holiday in Scotland: Andrew is staying with us for a couple of nights, and we’re dropping him off on the way north tomorrow afternoon. We’ve just been for a walk down the Riverside path, taking in the new bridge, and I also got him a new pair of slippers. Yesterday Phil drove me to Coventry to pick him up, and everything went pretty smoothly, except the usual Elveden chaos, which we avoided (once we could reach the roundabout) by taking the pretty route via West Stow, Ingham and Barnham.
Not much rain in the last couple of days, but it’s been very cold (for May). Still, mustn’t grumble. It will probably snow in Scotland. As I write Dot is up at the garage, who are having a second look at her car after failing to fix it yesterday. They replaced some kind of coil, but the mystery light came on again at Coltishall after her visit to North Walsham. She was not happy.
Other news this week: an unexpected pregnancy. I cannot say whose pregnancy (in the style of Walt Whitman) but it landed us a bottle of champagne, so we were delighted. At the pregnancy, too. On the same day we had a meal at Cafe Rouge with Angela and Rodney to discuss the Ethel situation, which we did. Nice meal.
Earlier in the week: on Monday I took my massive Division Two champion trophy back to the chess club and took part on the John Swan Rapidplay, where I scored a pretty normal 50%, losing to two of the joint winners and drawing with the winner of the grading prize. My best game was in fact a loss to Jeff Dawson. Found it all very tiring, though. On Wednesday I took one of my games from earlier in the season to Mike Read so that he can annotate it for En Passant (if he thinks it’s worth it). Had a cup of tea with him and indulged in a bit of nostalgia.
On Tuesday, prior to a rather depleted Tuesday Group, Caroline and Rob came here again to discuss further the Paston event at St Peter Hungate in June. Think we’re getting there – I even sang my song, The Ballad of Gresham Town – and we decided to invite Kay to join us for our next meeting at the end of the month.
A rather bad picture of Amy having a larger-than-life experience in the Cathedral
Dot’s dizziness persists, and after trying fewer tablets with poor results, she made a late decision to go to the doctor’s this morning. By chance she got a woman doctor who was very thorough and knew exactly what was going on – apparently. Now Dot is going back on Thursday for the doctor to do a manoeuvre with her neck which should shift some crystals that are causing the problem.
After this encouraging news we went up to the garage to get a quote on fixing some scratches on the car, apparently caused deliberately by some merry passer-by. We decided on the cheaper option, which will be accomplished next Tuesday. I’ve also booked the car in for a service, which will not be cheap.
Yesterday I met with Caroline and Rob at Fakenham to discuss forming a new PHS offshoot (us) to arrange arts-related events. We’re concentrating on the COAST festival at the end of the year, but hope to fix up some lesser performances before that. Rob is drawing up a structure, but the performance will include readings, narrative, possibly monologues and hopefully yet-to-be-written songs. Quite exciting, and it might enable us to sell some of the recently published books.
After this I drove to Aylsham to return a book of vinyl samples, since we had decided to go with John Lewis on the grounds that it’s much more expensive. No, that can’t be right. It’s on the grounds that they’re very thorough and have a much wider range of possibilities. While I was out, a JL man came and measured the space with a tape measure. I mention this because it seems so low-tech. We had earlier (on Saturday) borrowed two vinyl samples in order to decide between them – this proved unexpectedly difficult, but we eventually made a choice. The man (another man) came to pick them up on his way home and, having seen the house, immediately plumped for the one we’d decided on. Needless to say, it was not the one that was on special offer.
My sermon on Sunday seemed to go down well, though I had a lot of trouble preparing it. Surprising how often that happens. In other news we attended the opening of Harriet’s brother’s shop last Friday, which was amazing in the sense that no effort at all had been made to make it look appealing. The shop front was just empty. One or two people were mooching around, and there was good wine and Sri Lankan food on offer (we bought some for the freezer), but although H’s brother Francis was charming, it was hard to see how it was all going to come together. Maybe it will become a cult food shop and go nationwide. And maybe not.
I’m making some progress with Amy’s story but am not entirely sure where it’s going. I have turned the last Little story into a booklet, ready to be posted to Oliver, but I’d like to finish Amy’s story first. Must try harder. Have made no progress at all on the five poems I have to write for Ian Fosten, and a couple of CDs have arrived from the King Street project that I’m supposed to listen to and be inspired by. Have read a Kate Atkinson book I was given for Christmas and started on the second. Not bad.
Last night I was called in as an emergency reserve for my chess team (I am having a chess sabbatical, but they were desperate), and while Dot was at a Norwich Youth for Christ meeting, resigning as a trustee, I managed a presentable win against Jim McAvoy featuring a rather nice sacrificial attack. Sometimes they work; sometimes they don’t. Here it is (for chess lovers):
Andy Martin, of Astral Void, by the Bure at Oxnead Hall
October dawned very warm and sunny, but is now showing signs of slipping into autumn: a cooler feel to the weather, leaves on the ground, a strongish wind, and snow forecast for Scotland. Still quite pleasant, though, and it was very warm for Dot’s Dutch trip, which went well on the whole: it was quite a major event, and their workshops were full. The journey also passed almost without incident, if you overlook their not being able to find the car at Stansted when they got back – a purely temporary aberration.
I have been working hard on a couple of books: finishing off the Norfolk poems book – Words in a Landscape – with David, and getting the material together for Another Country – our next Paston publication. This comes to a head on Friday, when I meet with Rob Knee to decide what it will look like. The artists have suddenly come up with material, so the decisions may be harder than predicted.
Readers will I am sure be delighted and astonished in equal measure to hear that the rogue Humax has been working perfectly for several days. And Dropbox has finished its mammoth uploading of my picture files. Quite a relief.
Went to a concert at St Andrew’s Hall on Saturday. Vicki Ellis was on piccolo in the first two pieces and sat out the third with us. Apparently Dvorak has little use for piccolos. Nice to see her and her parents. Nick and Jan Miller were also there. Aunt E has been proving difficult over the last few days, calling out all and sundry, sometimes several at once. Dot has been out there today and was there yesterday too. E was not strong enough to make the planned visit to North Walsham with Dot yesterday, so I went instead, and had a rather nice meal with Dot’s mother’s cousin Sheila, her daughter Teresa, Teresa’s daughter Anna, and Anna’s son Harry (aged 18 months and very keen on tomatoes). That’s four generations in one room. Teresa (our bridesmaid 43 years ago) made a rather lovely raspberry-flavoured, crispy pastry dessert with almonds to round it all off, the only downside being that I then had to make a meal for the Tuesday Group while Dot went to the Nafpht annual meeting at the Ram, Tivetshall. Didn’t really feel hungry. Don’t know why.
On the way home from North Walsham we stopped to look at the church and hall at Oxnead (Paston connection), and encountered a young musician who was looking for the river so that he could get some songwriting inspiration. We walked down to the Bure with him and had a chat about the Pastons and other things. Turned out he was Andy Martin, guitarist and singer for Norwich-based band Astral Void, who I tracked down on the internet afterwards. Interesting.
On Sunday afternoon I decided to go over to Horsford to catch the end of the Norfolk Chess Championships. Glad I did: always get a warm welcome from chess people, and there were a couple of interesting games and anecdotes. In the end Mike Gough won by boring Mervyn Hughes into making a mistake, thus depriving Charlie Fry of his first overall victory. Watched a fascinating win by Dave Hall over Ron Hughes and was pleased to say I saw the winning moves in advance. Always easier when you’re watching.
Open-top bus full of Canaries heads down Theatre Street
Ignore all previous hectic weeks. This was one was really exhausting, as I prepared for our Scottish holiday and tried to sort out two burning issues: Andrew’s pension credit and the British Gas situation as it relates to St Augustine’s. Having heard nothing for six weeks about Andrew’s money, I rang the pension service and was told that they needed my power of attorney. It would have been nice if they had actually told me this earlier instead of waiting for me to ring, and I am not terribly optimistic now that I’ve sent it to them. I suspect it may get lost somewhere. Of course the fact that I’m going on holiday will confuse them totally, despite the fact that I’ve told them verbally and in writing. I’ve also heard nothing about what money needs to be sent to The Langleys – and of course can’t get through to Coventry City Council at all. I’ve left a message. More confusion looms.
At first British Gas couldn’t do anything about my queries in response to their price-rise letter, because I was not Vicky Myers. So I had to e-mail them the change of treasurer. Then someone was supposed to ring me when I returned from holiday but rang the same day instead, and after much discussion we agreed a new contract: or at least he told me about a new contract, and I agreed to it. Apparently for this it didn’t matter I wasn’t Vicky Myers. It’s a funny old world.
But it can be a nice old world if you can afford it. Last Saturday we had a lovely evening at Morston Hall with the Robinsons to celebrate their birthdays and Anne’s retirement (I think that was the excuse). Top-class food, of course, and top-class service too. I restrained myself from drinking as much of the excellent red as I would have liked and drove home – too fast, apparently (Philip Robinson). But no hangover, which meant my sermon on Sunday was relatively coherent, and afterwards we celebrated Anne Travis’ 90th birthday with a cake supplied by her daughter. Anne, who has not been well, came after the service and seemed quite bouncy, as well as very appreciative. Her actual birthday is tomorrow, and Dot collected money and bought her some flowers and chocolates, which we took round to Chris Fiske’s this morning so that she can deliver them when we’re on our way to Caddington. It was nice to see Chris Denton and Zoe on Sunday.
As well as ploughing through paperwork during the day, I played chess on Monday evening: a rapid tournament in which I got totally won positions in four of the five games and lost two of them. I also lost one I deserved to, so a pretty poor result really, except that I beat my bête noir, Terry Glover, with a very nice finish.
The weather has been much more pleasant, with only a shower or two today. Hope it’s not building up to some solid wetness in Scotland. On Tuesday, after more phoning and writing, I accompanied Dot to North Walsham, where we visited the cemetery and had tea with Jessie, who seemed very well. We got back in time for some quick fish chips before making our way up into the city crowds celebrating the Canaries’ promotion, and got a reasonable view of the open-top bus from near the Forum on Theatre Street. As the crowds dispersed (or moved on to a later viewpoint on the route) Dot and I went into St Peter Mancroft for a concert by the Navarra (string) Quartet. Impressive musicianship, but on the whole I preferred the lunchtime concert on Wednesday at the Assembly House by Mark Lindley (cello) and Elena Kiseleva (piano), which was stunning. We got there with seconds to spare after getting up late and misjudging the time.
Afterwards we had lunch at M&S, and I bought some slippers and socks for the holiday. I then went and paid in some church money at Lloyds before heading home. Much of today has been spent packing, but with lots of other things to do as well. In the end I moved the printer downstairs because it stubbornly refused to connect wirelessly. Printer offline, it bleated inaccurately. It will probably stay down here now. Rang David to see how his bad back was progressing, and booked in at Loch Fyne tomorrow for a birthday meal. Now we just have to get there in time.
While all this was going on our neighbour opposite (No 19) has been doing extensive work to his property and has been removing huge amounts of soil and rubble in skips: a real challenge for the skip lorry necessitating lots of juggling with cars and vans. I kept ours out of the way in the drive as much as possible. Hopefully no bodies will be unearthed. Phil is keeping an eye on the house while we’re away: he and Joy came round Sunday afternoon to survey the plants.
Odd day yesterday. Felt tired out and on edge: walked into city to pay in cheques and got cold and wet in a sudden shower. Then played very good game of chess in the evening in a match against Fakenham which we won 2½-1½. Probably not enough to stop us getting relegated, but a good result nevertheless. Not as good as Norwich City last Saturday, who managed 6-0 against Scunthorpe.
Bitty sort of week all round. Had a chat with Phil and Joy on Friday about a situation at their church, then drove them to the doctor’s during the rush hour, which wasn’t as bad as I’d thought it might be. In the evening we had the Cracknells and Roberts from St Augustine’s round for a very pleasant meal and conversation. Heather C is training to be a vicar and Ruth R is about to become a mother for the second time, around my birthday. Her child will be roughly 66 years younger than me.
We had our hair cut on Saturday, and I was feeling distinctly odd for most of the day – so much so that we decided not to go to the cinema as we’d intended. Bit better on Sunday, which featured lunch at church, orchestrated by aforementioned Ruth R. Lovely atmosphere appreciated by new woman (well, new to us) and by everyone else, I think. It was Mothering Sunday, and Nicholas went for the “God, our Mother” approach, which worked well. Music seemed good too.
In the afternoon the weather was nicer and after putting some flowers on Mum and Dad’s grave at The Rosary we proceeded to North Walsham to put more flowers on graves – in this case Dot’s parents’ and sister’s. Called in at Jessie’s, but she was out with Roger, and so we headed for home, but we followed a sign we’d often seen for an exhibition at a church, and it turned out to be Stratton Strawless, former home of the Marsham family, one of whom had been a tree enthusiast. This was mainly what the exhibition was about, but there was something deeply attractive about the place. Dot used the facilities to make herself a cup of tea, and we bought some crab apple jelly. The sun was shining, and the church was an unusual one, with a low, square flint tower. Didn’t see a soul while we were there, but felt we had been made very welcome.
Cold and grey with showers again today, but the forecast is good for the rest of the week. I’m getting behind on my Lent poems and need to catch up. Have read two very good but very different books recently: Salt, by Jeremy Page – a novel of the North Norfolk marshes, with a dash of the Fens, and some unusual characters, beautifully written; and The Woodcutter, by Reginald Hill, a totally compulsive thriller set partly in the Lake District. Both books gained a lot for me from being set at least partly in places I know very well: a key section of the Hill book is set on the Pillar high level route, which I have walked and can easily visualise. The Page book spends much of its time on the marshes between Morston and Blakeney, another well known and favourite spot of mine.
Just back from a brief visit to the chess club. I had been due to play a Bulgarian (Yosif) in the club tournament, but he rang to say he couldn’t make it. However, I was second reserve in our cup team, so I thought I’d better put in an appearance. Had a quick offhand game, then CP put in an appearance and said he was “fighting off flu”, which I guess is OK if you’re particularly self-centred. I turned down an offer to play him and his flu army, and returned home.
Quite relieved at not having to play, actually, as I’ve had a busy day catching up and preparing stuff to take to Coventry tomorrow for an interview with a woman from the council finance department. Andrew has just reached the stage where his money has reduced to such an extent that the council will have to pay his residential fees, and this has to be discussed. I also had to summarise some Board minutes for HG as well as fill in a Gift Aid form for church. And so on.
The catching up arose because Dot and I spent a couple of days assisting at a speaker event. The visitor this time was Fr Robert Kennedy from New York, who has some interesting ideas on zen and Christianity. Some of these ideas prompted me to write some poems, which got read out on the second day, but generally he was a little too radical for me, seeming unwilling to commit himself to anything, which I suppose is very zen. It clearly worked for him (and for some others) but not for me, despite the poetry. The poetry worked OK. The first-day weather was beautiful, which was fortunate because part of his “thing” was walking meditation, in which the entire audience (about 100) processed around the car park in Japanese style. On the second day it rained, and the walking meditation ended up indoors, which was a bit crowded. To be honest it all looked a bit silly, but I guess that’s a failure of imagination on my part.
The weather had also turned colder again, and it was still cold on Sunday – but dry, which was fortunate as we had to walk up to Magdalen Street to meet Heather, Sam and Simon with their friends Luke and Jenny. After a beer in the King’s Head we proceeded to the Ali Tandoori as usual for a curry. I was a bit nervous about this, as some unexpected fish and chips the previous night (first for ages) had given me a very bad night with acid reflux. But the curry worked out all right, perhaps because I took an extra pill. Or maybe I didn’t take the first pill. Who knows?
Had a very jolly time at Ali’s, ending with a sambuca. Luke and Jenny are moving to Loughborough, so it may be the last time we see them. However, I am now following Jenny on Twitter. The curry was in celebration of Sam’s 17th birthday and is becoming traditional. Hope his grandfather, with whom I went to university and played golf on Wimbledon Common, would approve.
Getting back to last Thursday, my dental appointment for crown preparation went surprisingly well. No pain, just rather lengthy discomfort – especially when taking the impression. No problems since with the temporary crown, despite my partaking enthusiastically of the sandwiches the same evening at the Ship Inn, Mundesley, venue for the Paston Heritage Society’s agm. Quite a pleasant evening. Chatted with Rob and Penny Knee for a while, and with others for a bit less of a while. We are getting to be almost regulars at the Ship Inn.
Spring flowers in the Rosary, pictured on iPhone during my walk yesterday
Rainy and miserable today, with Dot off into North-East Norfolk for a meeting with a friend. Yesterday Allan H was round all day, mostly in the loft, installing lighting so that Dot can spend even longer up there than she does now. Unsurprisingly, it proved a longer job than expected, but it seems to have worked. While clearing up afterwards, Dot produced a suitcase of old paperwork which proved to be mainly her letters to me before we married, plus some rather bad short stories and poems I wrote in the same era, and a few photographs. Also my mother’s handbag and some letters she’d written to me. No doubt I will be leafing through it all some time in the near future.
While this was going on I walked up to the Rosary on the way to the supermarket (trying to get some exercise) and became rather melancholy for no apparent reason. Envisaged David and Oliver coming to see my grave and Amy asking Dot: “Why did Grandad die?” I do tend to be a bit morbid nowadays. Snapped out of it fairly quickly on reaching the supermarket, which was overrun by half-term families. Dearth of rice, for some reason, but managed to get some for Tuesday Group meal, which featured Matt on curry. Dot had to run the gauntlet of football traffic to fetch him, but I devised a cunning route for her that worked a treat. Didn’t work quite so well when I took him home afterwards, but you can’t have everything. Even Norwich City managed to thrown away a win, and Spurs went one worse by losing 3-1 to Blackpool. Meanwhile in New Zealand a huge earthquake devastated Christchurch: Louise Robinson came round in the afternoon (when I was out, annoyingly) to reassure us that her parents were not involved, but in fact Anne had texted us in the night with just that message. Christchurch is part of their itinerary, but at the moment they are in Auckland. Very thoughtful of Louise to realise we might be worried.
Last Saturday was probably my most energetic day for years. We spent most of it painting a couple of walls in the living room – a process that also included going to the shop for extra paint; touching up two coats all round the room where the skirting heating had been; glossing the skirting board; moving three bookcases to different levels; hoovering the entire house; and, mysteriously, sorting out my tools drawer and stumbling across 28 screwdrivers. Quite enough for one day, you might think. But in the evening we had the Greenacres round for a meal: Sheila is a teacher I’ve worked with a number of times over the years and her husband David, who we’d never met, is an ex-police officer. Dot and Sheila had never met either. As Dot had done most of the painting, I cooked the main meal and purchased most of the starter from the supermarket. Something must have gone right, because we had a really good time.
Other things going right: I managed to draw a difficult chess game against Yarmouth on Monday. I played a German dentist who had no local grade but seemed pretty strong to me. Was pleased to hold a tricky bishop-and-pawns ending. Sadly, our captain lost a won game and we are now probably heading for the dreaded drop. Felt for him, as he is very keen and an excellent captain, as well as being a nice bloke. And on Sunday at close to 11am we were staring at a congregation of about five for Communion, but we ended up with around 20. Don’t know why that happens. Scarily, David Coomes is threatening to come to our service on April 10 when they are visiting and I’m leading.
Julia and Dot tackle a steep section towards the end of last Saturday's walk in Lyme Park
All is well again. Van man with fan turned up again and fixed the boiler, which is now running smoothly, and I think whatever was wrong with me has probably gone away. It’s also a beautiful sunny winter’s day, and I intend to go out for a walk this afternoon in an attempt to get some weight off. Did a couple of miles on Sunday and nearly four yesterday. Admittedly, the kettle is broken, but you can’t have everything.
Had a really good lunch at the Ship Inn, Mundesley, on Saturday to celebrate Jo Berry’s birthday. She didn’t say which one, and it would be rude to guess. There were about 40 people there, including Jonathan and Lucy; Rob Knee and his wife Penny; and unexpectedly Richard Batson, chief reporter at Cromer, and his wife Angie. Excellent food, and some good conversation, but the weather was pretty dull: grey and spattering with cold rain, carried on an enthusiastic wind. Turns out Jo is local correspondent for the EDP/North Norfolk News. Her husband John is a steam train enthusiast.
Spent much of the previous day chopping up vegetables: Dot was providing the soup for church lunch on Sunday – it could have been easy, but she likes to choose interesting recipes, and an alternative. I have to say the result was excellent, despite a minor panic on the day, when the soup refused to warm up as quickly as one might have liked. One being Dot, in this case.
Won another chess game last night, making five in a row. This one was particularly lucky, as my opponent, Steve Crane, overlooked a very promising sequence that I had calculated the wrong way round. He then went on to lose on time, as usual. If there were no time limit, his playing strength would soar. Earlier I took some cheques to pay in, in my new role as church treasurer-elect: these included a €55 one from Ireland, which called forth a staggering amount of paperwork and a £5 fee. You might think that in this day and age there might be a smoother system for coping with euros.
Look East last night poured all their immense resources (very little) into covering the English Defence League march in Luton, which managed to shut the town down without doing anything much at all. To be more accurate, the police shut the town down. Newsman Stewart meanwhile did the usual appalling job of interviewing the EDL leader, generating about ten times as much heat as light and refusing to let him answer any questions without interruption. I’m sure this generates more sympathy for extreme groups than exposing them by letting them speak. I ended up wanting to kick Stewart, which poses some interesting questions about what exactly provokes violence.
Feeling pretty tired: not sure if this is a combination of a continued infection (if that’s what it is) and the stronger antibiotics that the doctor gave me or just the result of a packed few days. Because of the tiredness it’s hard to tell if I’m actually feeling better, but I think I am: I don’t have the nauseous feeling any more, and the strange headiness is much diminished, but the heaviness in my abdomen is no better. The doctor wants me to get this looked at by insertion of what he calls a telescope into my nether regions. The letter for me to book an appointment has arrived, but when I tried to book, neither Norwich nor Cromer had any appointments available. I am resisting the massively uncompelling lure of Gorleston and Bury St Edmunds.
Dot meanwhile still has a back problem: she is under the chiropractor and feeling a bit better, but nervous of doing any stretching at all. Walking is a bit painful after a while. Meanwhile my brother Phil tells me that he and Joy are both suffering severe leg pains. Nevertheless he came with me this afternoon to John Lewis (before he told me about his legs) to buy a television/DVD player for Andrew. A quick operation: I had gone home for the car and returned to pick it up within half an hour. Just hope Andrew will be able to use it. I’m dropping it off on the way to Derbyshire on Friday.
Yesterday I had a bit of déjà vu at Wicklewood, where I had been invited to talk about journalism for a modest fee. Year 6 class and teacher proved very amenable once I had managed to find the way into the school, and it all came back to me. Seemed to go well: I enjoyed it anyway. Afterwards I met Dot at Park Farm for lunch. In the evening I played Steve Crane at chess and won on time after seeing a winning combination earlier and wrongly dismissing it. Made hard work of the whole thing.
I made my first tentative stabs at being church treasurer last Thursday, when I called round Vicky’s for an explanation of how it worked. Seemed reasonably straightforward (hah!), but she is hanging on to the accounts until she finishes them off for last year and reconciles a discrepancy on the statement.
The next day we went to the Banningham Crown for a birthday lunch with Jessie. Also present: Roger, Jude and Philip; Janet and Ray and their daughter Judy and her husband Don. Meal and service were first-class; they even lit a birthday candle for Jessie and stuck it in her sweet. Went back to Jessie’s for tea and coffee and suddenly realised it was 5.45pm, and we were supposed to be helping to set up St Luke’s for Robert Beckford at 6.30pm. Well, we were a bit late, but there were plenty of helpers. RB is a theologian who makes documentaries for Channel 4, and he was very challenging on “picking a fight” with people who were persecuting the poor. He highlighted the USA’s exploitation of Ghana by dumping subsidised rice there and ruining the local farmers, with appalling results (teenage girls leaving the villages and working in town brothels). Hard to understand how people can do this and still sleep at night.
Dot has just returned from visiting another school (Wreningham) and the odd shop on the way back. She heard a story on the radio about headlines, which included one about a road crash on the Azores, where there were only two roads and only one crossroads on the island. Azores a first time. Olé.
