Going back a week, I completed Thursday the 18th by making one of my sporadic attendances at Jurnet’s poetry evening. Colin Payne and Hilary were both there, but attendance generally was a bit low. I read my poem about Adam Cohen and a new one called Earlham Hall. The theme of the evening was “Fathers”. We finished at 9.30pm, which was good.

The week was somewhat dominated by the CNS fifth form 1961 annual reunion, which on this occasion was in the form of Desert Island Discs. I wasn’t involved in that until Tony Friedlander managed to fracture his hip playing tennis, which meant I was asked to take over from him as one of the interviewers. Since I can’t resist putting myself in the forefront, I agreed.

I was interviewing someone I didn’t know – or to put it another way had gone through five years at CNS without consciously meeting. He had been in 5X and his name was Mike Smith. Adrian – now attaining the elusive title of slowest and worst driver I have ever been driven by – took me to Upton, where Mike lives and where he has the largest share in a community interest company, in this case a pub.

I wasn’t sure how we’d get on, and I think he was a bit worried too. But in fact we got on very well, though he’s quite different from me – a rough-round-the-edges businessman who started at the bottom and did extremely well. We had lunch at the pub and talked through Tony’s notes, correcting them where necessary.

His first wife had died a few years ago, and he had married her closest friend, Anna, who was really nice. I introduced her to Dot at the event itself, which was on Friday, and we all got on very well. We had lunch at the Louis Marchesi first – OK, but not great – and then proceeded to St Martin at Palace Plain, where Desert Island Discs took place, complete with comfy chairs. I did OK, I think, despite Adrian having some sound problems to start off with (we were on first), and Mike was quite happy. He had some good stories; so it wasn’t difficult.

The other two interviewees were Les Pye (policeman) and Roger Cawdron, owner of several pubs in Norwich, including the Ribs of Beef. I didn’t interview them, and it all went remarkably well. We were able to give Fred and Sue directions out of Norwich afterwards!

On Thursday we had a bit of a shock when the MX5 failed its MOT test and we were told we would be paying well over £1000 too get it through. We thought for a bit about becoming a one-car family, but after talking to the mechanic and service guy at the Mazda garage we decided to grit our teeth and carry on, at least for six months. The car is now in the garage awaiting repair.

The weekend was quite warm and mainly dry. On Saturday Dot and I went for a walk towards the end of the day and had a drink at Wetherspoons by the river. Very pleasant. On Sunday we went further afield after the service – where I just got back in time to pray after getting the car to rescue Phyllis from beside the road. Ray had gone to walk with her, but she found it too much. We took her home, and when Dot and I visited her after the service, she was much better.

After lunch we drove to Winterton, where it was still warm but with a bit of an onshore breeze. We walked a fair distance and then had a cup of tea outside the cafe just before it closed. The beach at Winterton has changed again, and is extremely attractive. We saw a couple of seals, plus a family of idiots climbing up the cliff below a hut on the brink. Sadly, it didn’t fall on them. Obviously I don’t mean that. Much.

Yesterday Dot was out DSSO-ing in the Stalham area while I took a bus to the UEA for a Paston database practice session with some volunteer students from UEA and Gary and Jenny from the NRO. This was led by Peter with assistance from his web expert, David Viner. He was not helped by Karen disappearing to get some books and not coming back (we later found she was in hospital again), Rebecca just not coming, and Matt not coming because his stepfather had gone into hospital at Lynn.

Karen was supposed to be supplying a log-in to the UEA system; so Peter spent some time trying to get one from the office. Fortunately the students had their own log-ins. The whole operation was pretty complex, and at the end Gary suggested making it much simpler, which I had to agree with. Still, the students (postgrad I think) seemed to cope.

In the evening we drove to Trinity for a really good talk by Stephanie Bryant of the Faraday Institute. She spoke about science and faith as seen by young people, and how they went into schools and addressed the relevant issues – sounded very much like Philosophy, as Dot pointed out. We had a chat with her. She became a Christian after reading Roger Dawkins’ books, where she was fascinated by the science but completely unconvinced by the logic. She seemed exactly the right person to talk to kids.

It rained hard overnight (we’ve had quite a bit of heavy rain recently), but it’s now dry, and we shall be heading to Caddington later and staying the night – probably our last visit to the house, and certainly the last time we’ll see David and Oliver before they leave for Canada at the weekend.

Back to square one last Thursday (appropriately enough, the day of the week I was born on) when I was given a lift by Rob to Earlham Hall, my birthplace. Now part of the UEA, it was the venue for another Paston meeting, this time about the big exhibitions planned for the autumn of 2020. Happily I was not taking the minutes.

Matt was on cloud nine, having discovered (as he thought) a previously unknown Paston, and possibly three or four. This proved to be not entirely true, but it got quite a big spread in the EDP, and was in the Telegraph too. The meeting was not totally compelling, but I got a lift home.

Much better was a talk by Brendan Pelphrey, the American Greek Orthodox monk, in the evening at the Julian Church, following refreshments at the centre. Dot and I had a chat with Elspeth, our former keyboard player, and some other people, and the talk was largely excellent. Debbie came in late, was the first person to respond to requests for questions, and then left early. We felt this was so typically Debbie that some record should be made of it.

The next day we had an early haircut, which is always a bit unnerving, and in the afternoon I had a massage by Verena, of which the same might be said. Meanwhile Joy has decided not to go ahead with her book, but Howard was happy with what I did on the Julian leaflet. I shall get paid for both, which is quite unusual.

On Saturday Dot and I went to Worstead for the weavers’ annual festival, at which the Paston Society had a stall. Going to Worstead proved to be a mistake because the Worstead festival turned out to be at Dilham. Of course. Why wouldn’t it be? I rang Rob and was redirected. Had quite a good time there: Teresa turned up and we had a scone and cake. Dot bought various small items, and it hardly rained at all.

In the evening we walked up to the Cathedral for a performance of Haydn’s Creation, in which Paul was singing. The performance of both choir and orchestra was brilliant, but I was not impressed by the libretto, which was in appallingly bad English, and not Victorian English, as David Archer maintained (he was there with Bridget). I found it distracting, to say the least. Actually it made me quite angry.

Still, we chatted with Paul, David and Bridget, as well as the male Snells, who were sitting in the side aisle. It rained on the way home, but Dot had an umbrella.

On Sunday I preached on the Trinity. I was a little bit uncertain, but the Rev Liz Cannon, who was leading, said it was one of the best sermons on the Trinity she’d heard. Maybe she hasn’t heard many. It was Father’s Day, and later we had a chat with David on FaceTime.

Yesterday I walked to Dragon Hall for a talk by Adrian O’Dell on the history of Norfolk heritage as it’s related to Dragon Hall. There was a bit too much of the former, but it was all quite interesting. Dot was doing a REQM assessment in Lowestoft, and we just missed each other, but fortunately I was home in time for the Hello Fresh man.

Oliver has finished his GCSEs. He seems quite happy about them.

The weather has turned very soggy indeed over the last week, and overcast too. This has however enabled me to finish current work on the Paston Database, initial work on Joy’s book and editing of the Julian Centre leaflet (requested by Howard). Amazingly there was only one day (yesterday) this month so far when I failed to complete 5000 steps, and that was because it was too wet last night to walk up to the Cote in Exchange Street for a meal, and we had to get a taxi.

The meal was a late celebration of Anne’s birthday and was very pleasant. I had steak frites and everyone else had fish. We walked home, but it wasn’t enough.

On Monday I walked to the dentist in the rain to discuss whether he really needed to do a deep cleaning procedure. We talked for about 15 minutes, but eventually I gave in. He did it this morning (more rain on the way home), and it was only mildly painful, but it’s the after-effects I’m concerned about. To stop thinking about it (partly) we went to the cinema and saw The Aftermath, which was pretty good in that it made me think about what it must have been like in Germany immediately after the war.

After my first visit to the dentist Dot and I took the Paston display boards over to Lucy’s, where we had tea with her and Naomi. She is still complaining about how UEA hijacked the Paston project, without realising how her resigning from it at the outset didn’t help in that area. Quite frustrating to talk to her.

In the middle of the sogginess we had a dry spell late on Saturday – enough for a longish local walk –and a really nice day on Sunday, when we drove out to How Hill in the afternoon and walked down to the river, where there was the unexpected bonus of a wherry on display and open to boarding. So we did that and had quite long chat with the volunteers, who were not local enough to have heard of Timothy Coleman, whose family owned the boat – the Hathor, which was Egyptian-themed. They did know a lot of other stuff, though. Beautiful vessel.

We also looked round the eel-catcher’s hut, had an ice cream and went for a walk, though not in that order. Really lovely afternoon.

Bit cooler, with some rain last night. But plenty of sun today, and I played a pleasant game of pitch and putt over lunchtime. I was pretty awful, of course, and won only one hole (halved two), but it was good for my steps. Since then I helped Dot pick up an olive tree from Morrisons, because our garden is not full enough. While eating choc ices outside we fed a blackbird that became extremely adjacent.

While I was out Joe Logan called and tuned the piano for a mere £92 and advised selling David’s for around £250 in the Harpenden area.

Have been doing quite a bit of walking . I can’t remember why. When yesterday threatened to be a very poor day, I got a lift with Dot up to Chapelfield, where she picked up her conductor for orchestra practice. I then walked home by a somewhat circuitous route, despite rain clouds threatening, and got my steps up in time.

The previous day was easier. It started with a coffee morning up at Prospect House, with the usual suspects in attendance. I then walked to the dentist, who gave me a good clean and suggested some deeper cleaning which I am now having second thoughts about. Later we drove up to Eleanor’s at the Great Hospital, had tea with her and then took her to Cake and Compline at Claire’s.

Eleanor’s house is beautiful, with a great close-up view of the cathedral and a lovely feel to it. Would love to live there.

The previous day was PCC. I am no longer on the PCC, but Dot went. She got back very late after giving Elwira a lift home, and I had fallen asleep while reading a Shardlake book – the first, Dissolution. Yesterday the church treasurer resigned. I am not going even slightly near that.

Last weekend was not the busiest. I led the service on Sunday, which was quite enjoyable, and Saturday was really warm for the Big Lunch up on the Old Library Wood. We didn’t go, but had a look as we went for a carefully timed walk intended to get us back in good time to hand over Des’s keys to his son-in-law. This would have worked well, but said son-in-law rang while we were near the Cloisters to say he had arrived – over half an hour early. Ho, hum.

In the evening we watched the European Cup Final, which the literal-minded referee ruined by awarding an unjustified penalty to Liverpool in the 2nd minute. It was all downhill from there – neither side showed much flair, and Liverpool eventually won 2-0. Pity.

Meanwhile I am editing a poetry book for Joy McCall. The deadline is before she dies. Not sure how to take that.

It’s getting warmer, and I’ve been doing some work on the Paston Timeline, which unexpectedly proved quite interesting. This is half-term week, which means there have been a lot of children around, and on Tuesday Dot and I went to see Endgame, the last of the Avengers series, to find that the cinema was packed. Happily, we were early enough to get reasonable seats.

The film itself was very good in parts, but slow in others, especially near the beginning. It ran to over three hours and could easily have been edited. I liked the angel but still don’t really get the point of Captain America. The whole thing is very US-centered of course: there are six hidden stones, and three of them are in New York. Really?

On a slightly different level, we went to St Andrew’s Hall last Saturday to hear the Britten Sinfonia perform Beethoven’s Ninth. I drove Dot up because her feet were hurting, then took the car home and walked back. We walked home together, and she was OK. The evening started with a modern piece featuring the most amazing performance by a soprano I’ve ever heard. Excellent evening altogether.

The next day I went into church early while Dot parked the car – probably not a good idea as I got into a discussion about thermostats. People don’t seem to realise that if you turn the thermostat down (and open the windows), it may mean that the heat is reduced to a more comfortable level immediately, but by halfway through it is decidedly chilly, because the thermostat doesn’t miraculously turn itself up again.

Afterwards Dot and I went to Mannington Hall for the launch of the Paston cycle route. It had turned very rainy, though not cold, and the open gardens that were part of the event were a bit of a washout. Not a good day for Lord and Lady Walpole, because they had been involved in a car crash earlier and had serious injuries. Dot found this out in a talk with their son Henry, who was standing in as host as well as being very worried about his parents. Also present: Matt and Rebecca, Rob (as John Fenn) and Penny, Carole and her husband, and Peter Stibbons with his siege engines.

One of the reasons we were there was to pick up the display boards to transport them eventually to Lucy, who wants them for an event in June. I hadn’t quite grasped that we would have to wait till the end, because the boards were in use, but fortunately the rain forced an early finish, and we were able to get away before 4pm. Since then I’ve mended the boxes they’re in with duck tape and packed them ready for taking to Lucy in ten days’ time.

On bank holiday Monday were were invited to a barbecue at Luke and Michelle’s new home on Reepham Road. We took Des and Chris, and to our surprise there were only five other people there: Luke, Michelle, her mother (who also lives there), and two of Luke’s mates from work. The barbecue was very good, despite the intermittent rain, and afterwards we watched the Championship play-off final between Aston Villa and Derby – won 2-1 by Villa.

The next day the plumber came round, and the two small jobs both turned out to be very difficult. Dot and I made an unsuccessful trip to the plumbers’ merchants on Kett’s Hill, and eventually the kitchen tap was put together again with no change – but it doesn’t drip so much. If we decide to buy new bits online, the plumber will put them in for free. He didn’t have much more luck with the sink in the shower room, eventually ending up with an old-fashioned plug because the original was not mendable.

On Wednesday we combined collecting my pills with going to the charity shop, Morrisons, and the Norwich City shop. While at the latter we noticed that some big event was looming at Carrow Road. It turned out to be a Take That concert, which I blame for blocking our Netflix the following evening. The next day Anne and Dot went into the city, and I did more work on the Timeline, as well as writing an article for my website.

This morning I woke up late and was fetching a cup of tea for Dot when I was interrupted by the window cleaner. He was profusely apologetic. I’m not sure what for.

Back from four-day excursion to Toton, where the weather was reasonably warm (occasionally very warm), ideal for walking. We travelled up on Monday, curious to see if any progress had been made on the A14. In fact there was a slight improvement at the Cambridge end, but a big hold-up where it crossed the A1, caused partly by a convoluted temporary road and partly by the fact that a lorry had come off it, blocking one lane.

We made an unprecedented stop at the service station in the middle of it, which had an extremely complicated layout causing us to travel against a one-way sign to find the bit we wanted, which in this case happened to be a Starbucks where Dot found she liked my mint tea blend, and we had a sandwich and a muffin.

More confusion as we neared Toton, when Dot thought she’d put in satnav directions to Katherine Drive. Not sure what actually happened, but it took us off the motorway a junction early (we thought there might be a hold-up ahead) and then by a tortuous route into Nottingham and a mysterious unknown “destination”. At this point we gave up and I followed signs to the A52, which obviously worked.

On arrival we walked up to the garden centre by the usual circuitous route and had a cup of tea, then returned for an evening meal.

The next tea we drove to Derby for a cup of tea with Alan and Rosemary, then accompanied them to the Cock Inn at Mugginton for a very nice meal of fish and chips. Beautiful situation with a lovely view. Afterwards A & R went home and the remaining four of us went to Kedleston Hall (NT), where we enjoyed a lovely walk in the grounds and ended up inevitably at the cafe, outside.

On Wednesday our goal was a little further away – Clumber Park (NT). There we walked round the walled garden and greenhouses and discovered that they grew 130 varieties of rhubarb and 150 types of apple. The prospects for crumble were almost limitless. Afterwards we had a snack in the Tea Garden cafe, which was very nice but took an awful long time to arrive. Undeterred, we proceeded on a walk along the side of the lake, intending to circumnavigate it, but it proved too big. We took some picture at a beautiful spot at one end , then returned to the pleasure gardens , where there were a large number of geese with goslings, both Canada and Greylag. Also some fairly bold squirrels.

After more tea in the main cafe we visited a small museum and then the shop before heading home. In the evening we took a taxi to Vivo, an Italian restaurant in a run-down part of Stapleford, where we had a stunning meal, both Dot and I pronouncing the sauce the best we had ever tasted. And it was different sauce! Mine was on fillet steak wrapped in parma ham and hers was on fish.

We returned home on Thursday, but not before going to Attenborough, where we viewed sand martins at close quarters and then had a drink outside, where it proved too hot for both Dot and myself: we moved inside. Then we took a short walk down to the river and back (a scenario Julia rarely entertains) before having lunch at Katherine Drive and then heading home.

We called in to see Andrew, who seemed remarkably well, and then proceeded home by way of our new favourite services, Brampton Hut Starbucks. This time we were not confused, and the traffic was not a problem. Amazing how things change. We were home by about 7.30 after filling up with petrol and then voting.

We slept late yesterday, and I contacted a plumber, who came round just as we wanted to leave to visit Maryta on our Paul-in-Israel schedule. But it worked out all right: the journey through the city was surprisingly easy, and we got there before her carer David arrived back with her from Allison’s. Dot took her for a very short walk in Tyrrels Wood (her feet are hurting) while I did some walking in the sun in her garden, and then wrote a poem. We ate fish and chips with her and stayed till just after 7.30pm.

Weather has taken a turn for the worse over the last week, with quite a bit of rain and not much heat. But there have been brighter intervals. It started in darkness, when Tenebrae (get it?) put on a choral concert at the Cathedral on Monday as part of the Norfolk and Norwich Festival. Beautifully done, but a bit like prog-rock in that the precision and excellent technique come at the expense of being not very interesting. Very few words were audible, and it all sounded a bit the same. I felt it could have done with a film in front of it.

On Tuesday we were expecting the gas man to come and service our boiler and radiators, but it turned out to be a woman – Lucy from Yorkshire, who combined being shy with being talkative – no mean feat. Gave her a cup of tea and had a chat. She admired our old boiler, as most gas persons do.

Dot was in the city at the time. Later we went out to North Walsham to take Rob’s projector back and put some flowers in the cemetery ( it was Dot’s father’s birthday). Later still we walked up to the church hall with four bottles of wine for a birthday party for Carrie, Judy, Sophie and Martin Wyatt. They are not quadruplets, but were all born around the same time. Anna organised it, and it went remarkably well considering that Carrie, Judy and Sophie are the people who usually organise parties. Martin and Matt (Williams) both brought their wives, who we did not know. Vicky came, and the Archers would have come, but they were too late leaving Cambridge. Chris Denton also came, and Dot and I spent quite a bit of time talking to her: she didn’t know many other people, but it was also the anniversary (roughly) of her mother’s death and – coincidentally – her mother’s funeral. Her mother was Anne Travis, who had been our longest-serving member.

On Friday we went round to see Maryta and Joe – her son – who had come to keep an eye on her while Paul is in Israel with Holly. Maryta was her usual self but Joe was amazingly laid back. We were allowed three-quarters of an hour before Maryta decided they ought to take the dog for a walk.

We were back in good time to have our hair cut by Linda (a rearranged appointment), and later still I drove to Halesworth for a poetry reading at the Swan. I left Norwich early – fortunately, as the road was closed again and I had to negotiate an alternative route. Quite a good evening – about 18 people there – and I read my poem about birdwatching in Costa Rica, which was based on an excursion by one of the other poets, who maybe fortunately wasn’t there! Drove home on the main road, which I normally avoid because of the ludicrous speed limit. No, I mean really ludicrous. At Halesworth it was dry, but by the time I got home, it was very wet again.

Saturday was the highlight of the week, because we celebrated another birthday – David’s – by driving to Caddington, having a delicious lunch prepared by Amy and then (after champagne) all going to Spice, the Indian restaurant. In between we saw the first half of the Cup Final, which Manchester City won 6-0, and played an ingenious geographical game invented by Amy. Oliver is about a third of the way through his GCSEs, but showing no signs of tension. Dot drove down and I drove back, arriving just after 11pm. The house in Caddington looked terrific. The garden has been done, and the oven cleaned. We brought DavId’s training bicycle home, left it in the car overnight and put it in the garage this morning, after church.

I had preached at church on love , and although I didn’t feel as confident as I sometimes do, everyone seemed to like it. I even read one of my poems at the beginning of it. The rest of the day we have, one way or another, been preparing to go to Nottingham tomorrow. We cleaned the car inside and out. Still spots of rain, but the forecast is much better.

Yet another busy few days, as winter turns reluctantly into spring, rather too late for my liking. Last Tuesday we started with the wild excitement of the Paston annual meeting, for which we had a not-so-grand total of ten people, three of whom were the trustees, two their wives, and another couple of married couples. The re-enactors are falling by the wayside at an alarming rate, with only Diana hanging on grimly.

The meeting this year was at the chilly St Nicholas Room, North Walsham, with only an echo of our usual hotel refreshments (though to be fair, the hotel in question recently got an extremely low hygiene rating, which probably meant they hadn’t filled the right forms in). Not much business, except to report on the über-project.

On Wednesday Dot and I got up ludicrously early to get to Swaffham for a Mothers’ Union meeting, at which I spoke about the Pastons, using a projector I had borrowed from Rob. Despite my misgivings, it went extremely well, and the feedback was really good. Afterwards Julia and Allan stood us lunch at the George nearby, which consisted of a very pleasant fish and chips. Dot got so excited she left her umbrella behind, and Julia retrieved it and brought it into Norwich the next day (she was coming anyway with her friend from Crete, who had been at the talk).

The next day we had another excellent meal, this time at the Ivy, to mark Philip’s 79th birthday. Anne and Philip were also there, of course. I had a minute steak and an excellent strawberry sundae. Meanwhile the Norfolk and Norwich Festival was being launched by a man walking a high wire across the market place. We missed it.

The weather had been pretty cold, and there had been plenty of rain, but we managed to avoid most of it. It was still spotting as we set out for Duck End on Saturday for another Otterspool reunion. Dot drove, and we had a little trouble finding the entrance to Pete and Liz’s house as usual, but it’s a really brilliant spot: a rambling old house and an equally rambling garden which is a lot of fun to explore and must take them all their time to look after. Pete also has a Lagonda, an E-type and another classic car.

We took the cheese, plus some champagne to celebrate our 50th – rather belatedly. But it seemed appreciated, and we had a great afternoon. Unusual to have a group of friends stretching back over 50 years who rarely see each other but get on really well when they do. Present: Liz and Pete, Dot and Tim, Jan and Alan, Jacqui and Brian, Bob and Sue, Ruth, Jeannie, Christine. Ruth and Jeannie left their husbands at home, and Christine’s is dead, as are two of the girls: Jan Kidd and Liz Coxon.

Yesterday, another gathering of family and friends, this time to celebrate David Archer’s birthday. His wife Bridget had booked a tour round the gardens of Oxnead Hall, and we gave a lift there to Howard, Anna and Judy after church, which I led in the absence of Phil. We had to work hard to get there by 2.30pm, but some were later. The tour was led by Beverly Aspinall, the owner, and she did it very well after recognising me and apologising for any Paston historical mistakes in advance! She was pretty good, except for the 15C, when the Pastons didn’t really live at Oxnead very much .

There were well over 30 of us: unsurprisingly, Bridget had been not entirely precise in her booking, and so the tea in the orangery was a bit short on chairs and place settings, but the cake and tea were first class. We only lost one child in the lake, and he was pulled out by his father. Howard, not untypically, brought with him the mammoth catalogue published by the Castle Museum to go with its exhibition, and carted it all round the gardens with him, despite its weight. Anna is keen to book Oxnead Hall for Bethany’s wedding. Not sure what Bethany thinks.

The weather was perfect: sunny and not too hot, as it is today. I have popped over to Blofield to find a memorial stone that I had lost track of (Colonel John), and later we are going to the Cathedral for a concert. Earlier this morning Paul came round with Maryta, who was her normal (ill) ratty self. Holly has returned safely from the Himalayas, where she had a good time (Paul) / bad time (Maryta).

Harry and Meghan’s attempt to upstage Norwich City’s stunning Championship-winning achievement by producing a royal baby yesterday fell sadly short. About 20,000 people attended Carrow Road in the afternoon for the testimonial match of Russell Martin and Wes Houlihan, which took place large in persistent rain, and for some reason I was one of them. OK, it was to support my wife. Since you ask, Wes’s team beat Russell’s team 7-4.

The first team and hangers-on did a tour of the ground first, but by the time we’d found our way in we just caught the end of it. This didn’t matter too much, as Dot had walked into the city earlier to see the Norwich City bus as it reached Tombland. It wasn’t raining then, but I was in North Walsham to pick up a projector from Rob for my talk at Swaffham on Thursday.

Inside Carrow Road, hardly anyone mentioned the royal baby.

The Canaries’ Championship triumph had been confirmed the previous day, not long after my sermon at St Augustine’s. The day and time of the key final match away to Aston Villa had been switched to lunchtime on Sunday, but I had already booked us into a concert at Orford Church at 4pm. The match started at 12.30pm; so Norwich scored the first goal – and Villa replied – while we were still at church, though after the service. After a quick lunch we drove south, listening to the second half on Radio Norfolk and wondering when it would fade out. We stopped just short of the Waveney Valley to listen to the last five minutes, and as we did so Vrancic scored for Norwich. Since Sheffield United were drawing with Stoke, this meant the Championship was virtually certain, and so it proved.

This put us in a good mood, of course, and we got to Orford in plenty of time, eventually parking by the side of the road in the village. The concert, by the Prometheus Orchestra, was in St Bartholomew’s Church, and because we were early we got a front-row seat, despite our lack of an upper-class accent.

The first piece was Vaughan Williams’ Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis, which is the main reason I’d booked, because Dot is a Vaughan Williams fanatic as well as a Norwich City fanatic. It was beautifully played, with the orchestra split. This was followed by a flute concerto by Damase, which was pretty amazing: the flautist was Anna Noakes – a larger-than-life character in every sense, including the shiny golden dress. She also gave a witty introduction. After the interval, during which I wandered outside for a bit, we had Mendelssohn’s fourth Symphony – also excellent: I particularly like the way he used the cellos in the second movement.

Afterwards the sun came out and we wandered round the village and then drove on to the quay, where the view was stunning, especially as the weather contrasted with the earlier part of the day. We then drove home in sunny mood, despite the appalling Suffolk drivers, who seemed to think the ludicrous speed limits were something reasonable that you had to keep to.

The previous day we had celebrated Phyllis Seaman’s 90th birthday with a party at church. Dot spent most of the day baking a very nice cake, and there was a goodly gathering. I did a bit of ferrying backwards and forwards in then car, firstly Phyllis and then Ellie, both in the company of Sophie. Not quite as easy as it sounds: Gildengate is very narrow, and they wanted to come in through the churchyard (no steps). I had to reverse quite a long way and then turn round in a narrow gap. Three times. Great fun.

Going back to the beginning of the month, Dot and I had lunch with Angela and Rodney at the Ugly Bug – now for some reason called The Lurcher – at Colton. Not a bad meal, and we had coffee afterwards chez Ellis, before hastening back to pick up Dot’s pills, which she had been a bit late ordering. At last returned the “frames” for our anniversary pictures.

On Friday we helped Paul out by having tea with Maryta while he was at the doctor’s, because the carer had to leave early. Not a problem, though Paul was delayed at the doctor’s and worried too much about getting back.

This morning (Tuesday) we had our new table delivered, and I went up to the Archant coffee morning, followed by Dot when she had got herself sorted out. Afterwards we took the old table apart and put it in the garage. Not easy, but during the process our table tennis table was admired by a local drug addict.

Feeling pretty frustrated at the moment, because I walked up into Norwich and omitted to take my phone with me, which meant my steps weren’t recorded. Apparently there’s no way you can adjust for this with the new phone. Aargh! Equally frustratingly I wasn’t able to buy a projector for my Swaffham talk: Richer Sounds quoted a low price of about £400, which is ridiculous when you can get them for less than £70 on the internet. I also was unable to solve Andrew’s diary problem, as no-one appears to sell 2019 diaries this late in the year for people who forgot to get them earlier.

On the plus side I did manage to complete writing my Swaffham talk and put all the pictures in the Powerpoint file, which I copied to the … the … oh, that stick thing. I then completed my Blofield text and sent it off, as well as editing Rob’s North Walsham text and sending that off. Oh, and I went through some of the Paston timeline and did some corrections. I also changed the pillowcases and made the bed. And got Des’s bins in.

Des is in Portugal. Dot is at the Cathedral for a Church School Heads conference. I have finished the Tombland book – an 800-page novel about Kett’s Rebellion, and Norwich City have got promoted to the Premier League. They made the final step by beating Blackburn 2-1 at Carrow Road last Saturday. Dot was there, and I watched it on TV. Quite an impressive sight, but they should have won about 6-0.

Before that Chris, Sean, Ciera, Bob, Mary, Dot and myself went to the Ali Tandoori last Thursday, an event long planned by Des. He, however, was not there, having had to go to a family conference in another part of the country following a crisis involving his uncle, 89. Nevertheless we had a good time: the meal as expected was good, and so was the conversation.

The next day Kristine paid us a flying visit, arriving at 10.50 and leaving at 1600. It was beautiful sunny day, though a bit chilly, and we walked up to the Cathedral Refectory and had a light lunch, followed by a stroll round the cloisters, the Cathedral itself and the shop. Then back to the house and the rail station. Most enjoyable.

On Saturday we went to North Walsham. The weather had changed for the worse, but the rain had eased off by the time we got to the cemetery, and were able to arrange the flowers – at least Dot did as usual while I threw away the dying ones and inserted fresh water. The cemetery has got rid of its old bins and has a new disposal cart up by the entrance: bit of a longer walk, which is quite good.

Afterwards we went to Jessie’s house to meet Roger and Debbie and pick up a couple of photographs and cups, plus a Pike family tree that I need to incorporate into mine. Very strange being there while it was being prepared for sale. We’ve been visiting for well over 50 years.

In the evening it was the big match – still wet and windy. After being at the caravan all week, Fred had decided to go home – probably a good decision despite the result. Not sure when he would have got out of Norwich.

On Sunday we had a Communion led by the vicar but starring Adrian, who came in, took his shoes and socks off and then proceeded to strip completely down to the waist before going to the loo and then getting a mug of milk from the fridge. We had a visitor called Andy from Plymouth who was clearly shocked by all this, but we carried on regardless. Afterwards Matt (Mr Enthusiasm) took us for a tour of the pumping station, which is not normally open to the public. Lots of old machinery. I felt close to it.

The next day Adrian came to the parish meeting, but stayed fully clothed. Quite a nice meal, Italian style, but the meeting was predictably tedious. Too much safeguarding. Nice people, though. I walked most of the way there, and Dot picked me up in St Augustine’s Street. Some people will do anything to keep their steps up, and on that occasion I remembered my phone.