Tag Archives: paston

Chatsworth in the rain

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A rainbow near Chatsworth
A rainbow near Chatsworth

Last week was the first this year when we didn’t go to the cinema – time pressed a bit, but also there was nothing we really wanted to see. Hope to resume this week, though it’s looking a bit busy already. Dot is at Barbara’s today and will progress from there to Peterhouse School at Gorleston for some Ofsted feedback (representing the diocese). I am catching up after a weekend away.

On Friday we left around 10.30 for Nottingham, calling in at Coventry on the way. It was a very slow journey, particularly the section through Elveden and the M1 from the M69 northwards. I had called Coventry the night before to make sure they knew we were coming; nevertheless we arrived around 1.30pm to find that Andrew had gone out for a walk. Helen gave us a hot drink and we waited for nearly an hour, but he didn’t return; so we went to Green’s garden centre near the Binley roundabout for a very pleasant snack. A spot worth remembering, though it’s not really a garden centre: more a garden furniture and sculpture outlet.

We got to Nottingham around 5pm after calling in at Donington services to buy some flowers for Julia.  In the evening we went by taxi to an excellent Indian restaurant. Next day we visited Chatsworth. It was very cold, and there was quite a bit of a rain, but we enjoyed it very much. We started at the farm shop and restaurant, where we had a meal (recommended), then after a “quick” tour of the excellent shop proceeded by car to the house, where we parked and after a brief discussion about the weather paid £9 each to enter the gardens.

These far exceeded my expectations and were certainly worth the bitter wind and frequent showers. A rock garden with massive rocks stood out, but there were plenty of other features (fountain, maze, waterfall) which I’d like to go back to in more clement weather. There were also a number of sculptures of gardening equipment which were eye-catching.

In the evening we went by taxi to a community church near Pride Park in Derby (£20 each way) for a celebration of Rosemary’s 70th birthday. (Alan and Rosemary have been joining us in Blakeney for many years now.) We had a good time and met some interesting people, including A & R’s two sons, Howard and Nigel, plus Howard’s wife Esther and a steam engine enthusiast, a secondary school headmaster who came from Gorleston and a maths professor from Newcastle. The buffet was excellent, and there was a 70-year quiz at which the four of us managed a measly 20 out of 39.

Sheltering from a sharp shower on the tramway walk
Sheltering from a sharp shower on the tramway walk

On the Sunday there was no rest: a 5-to-6-mile walk taking in parts of the new tramway preceded a late lunch, and we left for home at about 4.30pm. A good journey this time, and we were in Norwich by 7.20pm.  And in the middle of all that, Norwich City had won 2-0 🙂

Earlier in the week (last Wednesday) I had attended a Paston members’ meeting, which featured rather less impressive refreshments but a good talk from Rob on Edward and the minor branch of the Pastons. Meanwhile Dot was at orchestra rehearsal.

Vagueness about place

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Dot near Cockshoot Broad
Dot near Cockshoot Broad

After writing the last post, we were invited round to number 18 for a cup of tea, which turned out to be much more: sandwiches, cakes and so on. An afternoon tea that Phil would have been proud of, apparently. I’m sure she would. Phyll too. Had a very pleasant time talking to a number of people – especially the wife of the RC deacon who had led the service.

We were about to lose our record of going to the cinema every week this year when we decided to go for a walk at the end of Saturday afternoon – and during the walk decided to go to the cinema to see The Grand Budapest Hotel. Discovered at the end that it was from stories by Stefan Zweig, and it certainly had a mid-European feel to it – a vagueness about place but a fascination with unusual sequences of events. Ralph Fiennes was very funny, as was the bellboy, whose name escapes me. The hotel was  funny too.

On Sunday we had Communion followed by a talk by Robert Fruewirth on Lady Julian and person-centred counselling. I spent most of it trying to work out what non-person-centred counselling would be like. I do have an antipathy to counselling generally, suspecting it’s often a kind of addiction indulged in by people who should just get a grip, but are too fascinated by themselves to step outside. He didn’t say anything very interesting, which is a pity, because Julian most definitely did.

Later Dot and I went for a walk at Woodbastwick in weather rather redolent of the previous Sunday, if marginally cooler. Cockshoot Broad is as tranquil as ever, but the dyke seems to have lost its water lilies. Or maybe it’s the wrong time of year. Is there a wrong time of year for water lilies? Bright sunshine, though, and restful.

Yesterday I went to the dentist and got more or less a clean bill of health, though he identified a little hole that he would like to have a go at with a laser. In a weak moment, I said yes. It’s happening next Wednesday. Not sure it’s totally necessary, but apparently it bled a lot. Meanwhile the rest of my body is up and down: last night I felt extremely odd in the middle of the night, but much better as soon as I got out of bed. Still have a funny head  (oh yes) and a tight abdomen.

In the afternoon I went out to Mundesley for a meeting of the PHS trustees, arriving a little early. Not a bad meeting in the sun room, but with the door open. Have just finished the minutes, but it sounds very much as if we are going to get involved with another huge project. I may flee the country.

Meanwhile I have written a song called Farewell to Philomena, based loosely on our dear departed neighbour, but with some other elements of southern Ireland. Quite pleased with it, though Dot has doubts about the tune. She has a pain in her groin too (I don’t think it’s the tune), but has been spending the afternoon at Peterhouse School with her colleague Juliet (wife of Tom Corbett, ibid).

Set to a different tune

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Dot among the snowdrops at Whitlingham
Dot among the snowdrops at Whitlingham

The rain has abated for a while, and it’s fairly safe to venture out. In fact the sun is shining. Juliet Corbett from the Diocese has just been round for lunch and a DSSO meeting with Dot. Discovered she is very interested in poetry, and her husband (Tom) is a poet. She took away my recent book and a couple of others.

We have disbanded the Tuesday Group for various reasons and after many years. As a finale last Tuesday we all went to the Playhouse to see John Newton: Amazing Grace, performed by the Saltmine Theatre Company. I wasn’t sure how they would handle the material, but they did very well, with plenty of songs and climaxing, of course, with a beautiful performance of Amazing Grace – originally no 41 in the Olney Hymnal and not particularly popular, until it was taken to American and set to a different tune. The rest is history. I chose it as one of our hymns on Sunday.

The next day Dot and I dodged the rain to catch a special performance of Philomena at the Odeon for seniors : £6 for the two of us, plus a free cup of tea! The film was very moving, both Judi Dench and Steve Coogan were excellent, and I had trouble holding back the tears. In fact I was a complete failure at it.

On Thursday I accompanied Dot on a DSSO visit to Hickling, hoping to run into Lily, who is an old friend and who plays piano for their assemblies. This didn’t materialise, but I had a good walk over to the Broad and back in sunny but chilly conditions. I have since discovered that Lily is married to the churchwarden and lives in The Street.

The next day – Valentine’s Day – I had a meeting of Paston trustees in the afternoon which turned out to be even more incoherent than usual. Nevertheless, I produced some minutes  which seem to have met with approval, if silence can be deemed to be approval. Rob liked them, anyway. In the evening Dot and I had a celebratory meal from Waitrose, with some very pleasant sparkling rosé. I bought Dot an M&S bag that she had coveted.

The weekend was relatively quiet: I led the service again and had to prepare an emergency “sermon” in case Carrie was detained at the last minute. Fortunately she wasn’t. It was a lovely day, and so after Dot had done some work in the garden, tidying up after a gale on Friday night, and I had hoovered the entire house, we went to Whitlingham for a walk along the lane, taking in a fair number of snowdrops. By the end I was totally exhausted. Not sure why.

Yesterday, by contrast, Dot arrived back from a meeting with Barbara totally exhausted, while I was feeling more or less OK. In the evening we went to the ballet at the Theatre Royal: Sleeping Beauty, by the Russian State Ballet of Siberia. The tickets had been my present to Dot at her last birthday, and the performance was striking. The staging was brilliantly colourful and clever, not to say witty, and while from a narrative point of view the structure fell apart after the interval, the dancing was stunning. I say this as someone who is not at all into ballet.

The uphill walk to the theatre was avoided as Bridget and David pulled up in our drive as we were leaving. They were bringing us flowers and a card to thank us for running the Tuesday Group for so long. Very thoughtful. They also gave us a lift up to John Lewis, from where it was a short and easy walk to the theatre.

Straightening out

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P1110289

Very soggy indeed outside: the whole month has been pretty wet, and I suspect our forthcoming weekend at Buxton may feature some quite muddy walking. Still, you never know.

I’ve been straightening out the office, which is quite satisfying. I am still treasurer of the church, but I’m not sure how long that will go on. Howard is trying to open a new account, as far as I know. He preached on the financial situation on Sunday and did it quite well, though I always feel uneasy about that sort of thing.

I’ve been in touch with Andrew’s care worker, Elaine, who seemed quite surprised about his funding situation. Apparently no-one had told her; so I’m not sure what the finance department of Coventry City Council is up to. She is now trying to get some sense out of them. Best of luck to her.

Ethel, her friend John and Dot's new top feature in the cake-cutting
Ethel, her friend John and Dot’s new top feature in the cake-cutting

It poured with rain for Ethel’s 90th birthday party on Sunday. It took place at her care home in Welborne and was attended by the usual suspects: Angela, Rodney, Vicki and Graham; Roger and Rosie; Tally’s daughter-in-law Ann and her son Rob, who is a carpenter. I remember this because she told me several times. Dot had arranged for Marion to make a sponge cake – beautiful as always – and a fruit cake appeared from elsewhere. A jolly time was had by all.

The Paston exhibition has come to an end after three months. Dot managed to get Anne there on the last day, but the story goes on. Yesterday Rob and I visited the UEA for a talk with Dr Karen Smyth about her new project on the Pastons, which will start small and get a a lot of input from us but eventually build up to a digital heritage monster that could attract as much as £1 million in grant or research money.

The good news is that the work we do for it in the initial stages (and possibly later on as well) will be paid for; so maybe all that voluntary work we’ve done over the years will eventually reap its reward. Other than the reward implicit in doing it, of course.

Following that meeting, Caroline joined us for a Chronicle meeting and lunch – prepared by Dot despite the fact that the school she’s governor of is in the midst of Ofsted. She left later to be interviewed by the inspector. We had a good meeting: I sang my song, and Caroline read her poems, and we planned a way forward. I am going to work on a structure for the new performance (based on Oxnead), and Rob is going to try to get the owners of the Hall interested enough to host it.

We have managed to visit the cinema three Mondays in a row, which is amazingly consistent for us. Following Hobbit 2 and Gravity, we went to see American Hustle, which was excellent in many ways, but still not quite as good as the other two. The fact that it’s based on a true story possibly made it a little less neat than it might have been. As Tom Clancy says, the difference between fact and fiction is that fiction has to make sense.

Tuesday Group was at the Archers this week, and I had a carload, taking Judy, Ian and Harriet through pouring rain (Dot was preparing for Ofsted). We are considering dropping TG for a while and inviting different people round as part of a new church project. But we want to keep seeing David and Bridget and Vicky, who no longer attend St Augustine’s, so we’ll probably invite them too. Anyway, we’re still thinking about it.

My tanka book with Joy McCall has just been published, and I’m picking up some copies later. It’s on Amazon, but with the disturbing note that it’s not available, and they don’t know when it will be. I hope someone sorts that out. Not me, obviously.

Chess men found in pub

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The start of a great photographic career: Phil
The start of a great photographic career: Phil Coomes with father David, early 1970s

Beautiful sunny winter’s day today, but not so much fun in the Thames Valley, where they have “the worst floods in a decade”. It may be because I’m getting old, but a decade doesn’t seem very long to me. Still, the flood are very bad (I’ve seen the pictures), and we’re fortunate to have avoided so much of the stormy weather. The United states is bitterly cold, with creeping ice (I’ve seen the video).

Dot is up at the surgery with the nurse, looking at the results of her blood test, and is intending to walk home. I’m standing by to pick her up in case of sudden rain or sudden tiredness. My own car us in the garage, having at last had its air conditioning fixed (I hope). This morning, after dropping it off, I walked to the chemist’s in Heartsease to pick my pills up – a distance of well over four miles. While at Heartsease waiting for the bus home I ran into Diane Bowman and Philip Mason, which just goes to show.

Yesterday we had a meeting of the Paston trustees at Mundesley. I chaired it in the absence of Rob, and there was lengthy discussion on the accounts, with Lucy and Peter failing to find common ground until I realised that the critical issue was not VAT, but Lucy’s failure to count one of the invoices, which she had received by e-mail but not been able to open (and therefore ignored).

The rest was straightforward, but afterwards Lucy told me that John Care had just died, and Naomi was in a mental hospital in London, having had a kind of nervous breakdown. She (Lucy) also has a chest infection. Life is never straightforward for her.

The previous day, while Dot was at Park Farm, I walked to the Ruchcutters for a meeting with Joy, publisher Adrian and printer Nick Gorvin about the tanka book. Very pleasant time, quite a bit of which was spent talking about chess, since three of us coincidentally were chess players. Had a Caesar salad and chips (!), then walked home after dallying for a while by the river with Joy. In the evening Dot had a particularly good orchestra session.

On Tuesday, before pea soup with the Tuesday Group, Rob called in to discuss the agenda for the Paston meeting and stayed for tea and biscuits.

Sunday and Monday were rather strange for me, because Dot had a P4C session at Stowmarket starting early on the Monday; so she stayed at Barbara’s overnight. As usual, I had loads of time to get things done and failed to do so. I did go out for a walk on the Monday, though. The P4C was as always very well received. Dot is a bit of a star, really.

Now you see it – oh no, maybe you don’t

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Flooding at Pull's Ferry
Flooding at Pull’s Ferry

The storm surge hit the east coast on the evening of December 5. It was the biggest surge since 1953, and there was a huge threat to property and to people’s lives. If you had switched on the BBC’s News at Ten, you would have been able to see exactly what was happening … No, wait, you wouldn’t have seen anything at all about it, because Nelson Mandela died at exactly the same time.

I have already written a piece on my website about what a shocking mismanagement of news this was, but the former news editor of the EDP tells me I’m wrong. I now see that it was exactly the right decision for news editors, but exactly wrong for viewers.

Anyway, as I write I believe the coast road at Walcott is still closed, and many homes along the coast have been flooded or destroyed. Homes have fallen off the dunes at Hemsby, where I spent my holidays as a child, when the sea never came anywhere near the dunes. The tidal Wensum flooded a bit at Norwich, but not much. Haddiscoe, way inland, was cut off.

None of this affected me much. On the Friday night Dot and I were at Open Studios in Norwich, where we bought a picture from Martin Laurance and some art boxes from Rupert Mallin. On the Saturday we were at Bacton Village Hall, just along the road from devastated Walcott. We had been diverted through Knapton by police, but this was because someone had turned a car over on the Bacton road from North Walsham. Quite an achievement.

The village hall event was a celebration of the Paston Heritage Society’s year – a very eventful one, culminating in the big exhibition at the Norfolk Record Office. Excellent refreshments and a slice of video from Peter Stibbons: a fun evening. Today Dot and I went to the last of the eight lectures: Rob Knee on the Paston Legacy. I read one of my poems in the middle of it, which was pleasing – for me, anyway.

It was my second performance in three days: on Sunday the band (Far Cry) travelled to Lowestoft to perform at the Seagull. Rob was there too, reading his winning poem in a recent competition. We did three songs – The Rolling Hills of Pakefield; Man in the Mask; and Falling Apart – as a foursome, with me on vocals and guitar, Phil on the other guitar and Dot and Emily (Phil’s daughter) on violin. As Emily had not rehearsed with us, she did well to even think about it. I think we sounded OK, but they’re a nice crowd who wouldn’t tell us if we hadn’t. We got some good applause, anyway.

Sunset glow on a ploughed field at Rockland
Sunset glow on a ploughed field at Rockland

Since the storm the weather has been calm but pretty chilly. On Monday Dot and I visited Geoff , who continues to recover well. He has walked to the village shop and been driven to a couple of events. He can walk around the house (slowly) without a stick. We had quite a long chat with him while Sophie was out, and I collected some antibiotics for him (for his toes) from the village surgery.

In the evening we went to the DCC, which proved quite short as there were several absences and Howard was there only briefly as someone who he hadn’t seen for a while had turned up unexpectedly. We discussed how to split the parish share and decided on 77-23 (it was 80-20). If I was treasurer, I would worry about this. Oh, I am.

On Tuesday, before being entertained by the Archers for Tuesday Group, I went to Fakenham for a Chronicle meeting. Sadly, Kay was absent as she had had a lot of trouble looking after her father-in-law, who broke his hip in Barcelona and had to be taken back to the Isle of Man. What are the chances of that happening? Anyway the three of us had soup and cheese and discussed our Oxnead project. Rob had written seven poems already; I had written one; and Caroline had written a half. Much to do. We are aiming at a book and premiere (possibly at Oxnead) in September.

Back in Norwich I got my new non-varifocal glasses from Boots and was relieved to find I could see through them (they’re for computer and music, but wearable most of the time if I want to). A much better solution.

Meanwhile Phil and Joy are still in Southampton, and Lucy is slightly improved, though I have heard nothing directly. My cousin Sandy in South Africa has lost her husband Alex, who was very generous to us while we were out there. He died of liver cancer, quite suddenly.

Joe has had a full page in the EDP on his photography, and he and Birgit are going to Germany for Christmas. I have written a few cards, and Dot has bought lots of presents.

New talk, walk, baby

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Dot, Julia and Dave getting properly shod in Trowse for our walk to Whitlingham
Dot, Julia and Dave getting properly shod in Trowse for our walk to Whitlingham

A very full week, starting last Tuesday with another visit to the Norfolk Record Office to hear the latest talk, The Fall of the House of Paston: a fine title and a brilliant lecture to a standing-room-only audience. I bought the book by the speaker (Jean Agnew) and walked home with Rob Knee.

Dave and Julia arrived around lunchtime the next day, and in the afternoon we took them to the Masterpieces exhibition, where Dot and I saw the bits we missed at the weekend, including the Rennie Mackintosh pictures and the Lotus F1 car in the restaurant. We got the X25 bus home (express route via Newmarket Road), and Dot cooked a brace of rather nice pheasant in the evening.

Our compulsory walk the following day was in two parts, because the cafe at Whitlingham Broad was helpfully closed. So after walking there from Trowse via Whitlingham Hall we walked back to Trowse along the road and had garlic bread and tea in the River Garden Cafe.  We then drove back to the closed cafe and walked round the Broad, pausing only to shelter from a shower.

Later we walked up to the city to look at the Christmas stalls and witness the Christmas lights turn-on, all of which was OK, but not as spectacular as one might have expected. We returned home and had supper at Prezzo – as usual a very good meal with excellent service. Free bottle of Prosecco for the birthday girl. According to my app, I had walked a record 8.6 miles that day.

The peripatetic Evetts set off for Salisbury at about 11 on Friday, which was Dot’s actual birthday. I gave her a new violin case, a book and tickets for the ballet next February! Well, you have to book in advance. In the evening, although Dot was feeling a little under the weather, we drove to Metfield for a performance of the Fitzrovia Radio Hour, which I have to say was brilliant: a supposed radio performance in which we were the studio audience. The sound effects were the highlight, but the actors were brilliant in every respect. If you get the chance, go for it.

On Saturday yet another highlight: we drove to Caddington, arriving at almost the precise time that Elliott James Lenton was born in Southampton. Blissfully ignorant of this, we had a great time with the Coomes family – adults in the kitchen and children all on gadgets in the living room, playing a joint game, I believe. Excellent buffet food from David. After the Coomes left I got involved in a football game on the landing with Oliver, David and Amy (in goal), from which I miraculously emerged with no broken bones. Reminded me of The Christian, only more violent.

Also played a game of Mastermind with the children, in which you have to work out the position of four coloured pegs in a row. Oliver is very good at this, but I did manage to work one sequence out. I believe we played a version of this when David was young, or even earlier. Also played chess with Oliver. Like his father, he has the potential.

Meanwhile Magnus Carlsen was winning the world championship in India by defeating Viswanathan Anand without losing a game. Quite a feat.

We left quite late and as a result had a clear run home. The next day Dot was shattered and had mouth ulcers, so stayed in bed while I went to Communion. We spent most of the rest of the day watching television, which is never good. The weather has been cold, with quite a lot of rain.

The kitten and the rabbit

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Geoff sitting in his garden at Rockland
Geoff sitting in his garden at Rockland

I am now backed up. I have an external hard drive . If only that were true: in fact it is the computer that is backed up, now being linked to Time Machine, as it was designed to be. I myself am struggling along with the same old operating system that is showing signs of wear and tear. And I can’t get back to what I used to do.

I can’t even see very well, because I have new varifocal glasses that are designed to be clear in three different ways, but are in fact unclear in at least three, probably more. This morning I had to put my old reading glasses on to read the paper.

Oh, well. I’ve managed to walk about four miles today – mainly to the Norfolk Record Office to hear a talk by Elizabeth McDonald on “Books the Pastons Read”. Similar to the one she did at Dragon Hall, but not the same. Quite interesting, as Stephen Fry might say.

Last night we had a mammoth PCC meeting to discuss the increase in the parish share and how we were going to meet it. One of those dreadful meetings where you wish you were somewhere else. If church is about raising money, I’m not interested. I have a meeting scheduled with the new treasurer for the parish, one Susannah McGuire. I was relieved to find that she probably knows less about church accounting than I do. Sadly, that is not much.  I warmed to her.

Earlier, before I got my non-focal glasses, I had a visit from Adrian Bell, the potential publisher of our tanka book. He seemed reasonably impressed. It’s just about done; I’m now waiting to hear from him what other information he needs to go in it, such as price, and whether it should have a spine – which is about as ironic as you can get.

After the piano tuner left (see last post) I went out to Rockland to see Geoff. The weather was pretty cold, but dry, and he was keen to walk in the garden. So we did it. A little unsteady, but in the circumstances remarkable. He had his carer, Lisa, with him, and she was lovely – made tea and provided (Sophie’s) fruit cake.

Next day (Friday) I went out to see Lucy, who continues to recover slowly from her cracked ribs. She has a personal assistant (carer) called Priscilla, who is also lovely. The two of us tried to put up a washing line in the garden: she was much better at it than me. She is also gradually organising the house, which will be interesting. Meanwhile the kitten and the rabbit have a peculiar relationship: the kitten puts its paw through the bars of the rabbit cage and touches the rabbit, which ignores it. Doesn’t try to get out of the way – just ignores it.

Which is what I wish I’d done with the idea to employ a UEA intern for the Paston Heritage Society. This has now reached a ridiculous stage, with the lad doing very little work but clocking up huge numbers of hours. We received a bill from the UEA which Lucy is refusing to pay. Anna is very worried. I am now retiring from the conflict and letting them get on with it, which is a pity, as they’re both friends. At the moment.

On Saturday it was still cold , but Dot and I had tickets for Norwich v West Ham. In fact we had three tickets, so we invited Phil, who called round by chance the previous afternoon. City played very badly in the first half, so at half time I predicted we would win 3-1. Amazingly, we did. I am now regarded as a prophet. I am without honour in my own country, of course.

Fine tuning and football

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Dot at the Bella Vista, Cromer
Dot at the Bella Vista, Cromer

Norwich City eventually lost 7-0, but we don’t need to dwell on that. After all, Manchester City put five past a Champions League team a few days later.  Just hope we do a bit better against West Ham on Saturday – Dot and I have tickets.

The weather has been a bit mixed, and we’ve reached that stage in the autumn when the ground never seems to get dry. The last two days have been wet and lethargic, but today looks brighter. I hope to go and see Geoff this afternoon, but at the moment I’m waiting for the piano tuner and his football commentary. Dot is on her way to a school at Bradwell after Mary next door came round for a few signatures. She is applying for a new job. Ex-head teachers rank way above ex-journalists and poets on the respectability scale.

Rather disappointingly, I failed to register in the winners’ list at the Seagull poetry competition, but Rob Knee was joint first (and had another commended). He and Penny were at the NRO yesterday for a talk by Anthony Smith on how Fastolf got on in 1450 (I paraphrase).  A dense but interesting 50 minutes, especially after they got the microphone working. I wrote a piece for my website based on it.

Penny’s mother has just died, and I was able to commiserate. This meant, however, that I missed chatting with Judy, who was also there.

Because of the damp weather I drove to the NRO, thus failing at the second fence in my bid to walk to all of the talks. The tanka book is now finished, and I have only to establish some sort of meaningful dialogue with the publisher. However, Joy is in a bad state again. We need to get it published for her.

Still in the middle of “discussions” with UEA over the PHS intern who claims to have done over 80 hours’ work but has produced very little. Mistakes on all sides, I think. He should have been much more closely monitored.

Dropped in at the Forum on Monday to look at a display of Holocaust poetry that featured a translation by Kristine – oddly, from English into German. Adjacent to the small exhibition was a circular table, around which a number of earnest middle-aged academic-looking people were holding a discussion group. Each had a pot of tea. I wrote a poem about it called The Holocaust Discussion Group.

In the evening we had a meal at Prezzo with Angela and Rodney, followed by coffee at home. The meal was courtesy of Auntie Ethel, whose house is now cleared out and all-but forgotten. She herself seems physically well and enjoying the home.

I have now booked the hotel for Florida and the seating for all the flights. But I haven’t managed to persuade Coventry City Council to tell me how much they’re paying towards Andrew’s accommodation. It will be nice when that’s sorted.

On Tuesday we had nine for our regular Group, and we celebrated November 5th with sparklers in the garden afterwards. The piano tuner seems to be getting on well.

More and more culture

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Sir William Paston's tomb in North Walsham Church. Nonchalant or what?
Sir William Paston’s tomb in North Walsham Church. Nonchalant or what?

Continuing on a cultural high, we went to Dragon Hall on Tuesday evening for the launch of Keiron Pim’s book on the Norwich Hebrew poet Meir – or more accurately, the book of Meir’s poems edited by Keiron, called Into the Light. The upper hall was packed: must have been nearly 100 people there. Had a quick chat with Keiron and Rowan, and a longer one with Pete Kelley, who is still doing the letters pages at the EDP.

Yesterday teatime I continued the trend by attending the launch of The Marriage of Margery Paston by Susan Curran. This was at St Edmund’s in Fishergate. Lori Lain-Rogers was there, so we discussed the merits of the Sinclair C5, among other things. Also spoke to Susan, who is a PHS member, and asked her to speak at a members’ meeting. Was introduced to Professor Malcolm Wagstaff and his wife Pat, who have moved to Cringleford from Southampton and find themselves involved in most of the city’s societies. Rob Knee also attended, and we walked back to the station together along the Riverside path.

Earlier in the day we had also coincided – at the Norfolk Record Office, where he had brought some material for the exhibition and we were having a last meeting with the very helpful staff. I spotted what I thought was a wrong attribution in one of the captions and spent some time establishing that it really was wrong (phone calls to Caroline Gilfillan and Di Griffiths). Then I had to contact Belinda at NRO (I was on my way home by then), which proved tricky, as the phone lines were closed. Left a message and sent an e-mail, and she eventually called me back.

Our UEA intern David Whittle was also at NRO, and I was relatively nice to him, considering all the hassle he’d caused me the previous day, most of which I spent sorting out a leaflet for the exhibition. He and Lucy had collaborated on it, and Lucy had asked me to check it before it went. It was full of mistakes and queries, which I set about correcting and answering: after a while I could see that it wasn’t saving my corrections properly, which became very irritating. I could feel my blood pressure rising.

Eventually I discovered that David was in it at the same time, making trivial corrections  and cancelling out my corrections when he saved. I must have corrected some things three or four times – and much of them I had to look up repeatedly in obscure places, because I had to be sure. Lucy had assured me that he had finished with it, so I was a bit short with her on the phone. Not long afterwards she fell downstairs.

She called me on Friday morning from the hospital to say she hadn’t sent the leaflet off to Vistaprint before she fell down and could I do it. Could I also ring the care home where her father was living to let him know she wouldn’t be coming to see him that afternoon. I did both; hopefully the leaflets will arrive on Monday morning in time to get them to NRO for the launch.

This morning Dot and I went to Yelverton, where the church now has a toilet and some underfloor heating, for the funeral of Sharon’s father, Les. Her mother had died four months ago. A quiet but lovely service, followed by tea and biscuits at Sharon’s. Jacob was there with his partner Kath, who is really nice. We had West London in common. Didn’t realise – or had forgotten – that Sharon was born in Canada.