It’s been cooler the last couple of days. Yesterday we drove out to Beeston Regis to visit Fred and Sue at their caravan, and the north-east wind made that area much chillier than inland. Nevertheless after a chat we went for a short walk, and later drove to East Runton to have a meal at a Greek restaurant. The food was pretty good, and this was followed by Greek music and a lot of audience participation, during which I kept my head down on the pretext of taking a video of it.

Today we were up at the church hall shortly after 10.30am to help with a kind of spring clean. I didn’t do a great deal except sort out the noticeboard, put up a couple of mirrors, return some vases to the church and quite a bit of dish-drying. Oh, and a bit of moving stuff about. It was nice to be with people from both church and Monday Club.

Over the last few days I’ve written three new poems, two of which I sent off to a competition. I sent another new one to another competition a couple of weeks ago, but I’m not going to make a habit of it. It just seemed the right thing to do. Flawed Beauty and Chasing the Moon went to the Crabbe competition, and Background Music to Bridport. The first one was based on a sermon by Eleanor, the second was about my father and the third was rather gloomy.

I have got round to doing something about my teeth: I went to the dentist on Thursday, and he decided (with my agreement) to take out one of my back teeth at the top. This is scheduled for next Tuesday. Meanwhile I am on antibiotics. My pharmacist disagreed with my hairdresser and said it would be perfectly OK to stop taking statins; so I am doing that, in an attempt to stop coughing. I seem to be a bit better, but I have bad moments.

I checked with the garage about a warning light on my car, and it turns out it’s nothing to worry about: so I’m not worrying about it. Apparently it’s just there to remind me to book a service, which I’d already done. You can have too many warning lights.

Just back from Anne Travis’s funeral at the old church. Dot, Phil and I played the hymns, Dot read a poem and I read from the Bible. Liz Cannon took the service. I felt it went really well – Dot was able to help Chris Denton with reading out her daughter’s tribute to her grandmother, and Andy (Chris’s brother) spoke emotionally about his mother. Refreshments afterwards in the hall, organised by Carrie and Sophie. Sunny day, too, although the chilly wind has returned.

Before that I walked up to the Archant coffee morning. Robin, Brian and spouses were there (Brian not too well), and Maryta came on her own because Paul has a chest problem. I have had a mouth and throat problem over the last few days (well, more like weeks, but it was particularly bad yesterday). I see that statins can give you throat and nose problems: so I may try to ease off them. I was warned against this by Linda, our hairdresser; so I may consult our pharmacist.

While Linda was here yesterday, Luke the electrician, who lives just over the road, came over and put in a number of new sockets, as well as fixing the oven light. We now have a number of extension cords going spare, but the place looks much neater. New sockets under my study desk, in the kitchen by the door, in the shower room (waterproof) and in the garage (quite a complex job involving the bending of pipes). Hey ho. Rather an odd day all round.

On Sunday I led the service, and Eleanor preached a good sermon on flawed beauty that reminded me of Leonard Cohen (“There’s a crack in everything; that’s how the light gets in”), only the other way round. Afterwards we cleaned up the old church in preparation for today’s funeral, and had a light lunch before driving out to see Jessie.

Saturday was a big day as far as Dot was concerned, because it was the Sillars proms concert at St Peter Mancroft. Although the day was dark and damp, there was an excellent attendance, including Des and Chris, Anne and Philip, the Hendersons, Angela, Rodney and Vicki, David and Bridget and Robin and Shelagh. The orchestra played very well: good acoustics, too. Earlier I had gone with Dot to pick up a music stand from the church hall, and for some reason I can’t work out (it made sense at the time), she dropped me at the far end of Silver Road, so that I could walk home while she returned a defective rose to the garden centre in Sprowston. We arrived home at exactly the same time.

The previous day we went to Caddington to see David, Oliver and Amy, but got delayed on the journey down by resurfacing work. Nevertheless, we had a good time with them: I managed a short walk, Amy did some baking with Nana and David took Oliver for a swim. David is now in Canada.

On Thursday I watered Phil’s flowers for the second time (he is now back from Southampton), and the day before I did a short walk at Blofield, checking on whether certain places could be accessed (they couldn’t). Not doing badly with my steps: May was the best month since last August.

The weather has turned more appealing – mainly dry and a nice degree of warmth, though it’s rather dull today.  Elsewhere – the West Midlands, Kent and East London, for example – there has been a huge amount of rain and flash flooding, which just goes to show. Dot is upstairs practising religiously for her concert this Saturday, to which an unprecedented number of friends are coming. Phil and Joy are in Southampton, which also goes to show.

On Saturday we travelled widely – well, we took a train to Stowmarket, where I participated in the Suffolk Poetry Festival, reading for Pinky’s. I read Angel’s Wings, Layers, Aldeburgh and Beyond the Stars, though not particularly well. We were on first, and people hadn’t settled down; so there was not much audience response. I was also aware that time was limited, and we had started late. Ah, well. Stayed to listen to some other poems, some of which were very good. Caught the 15.55 back to Norwich in order to have something to eat before walking up to Hungate for the launch party at 6pm.

Quite a good attendance, though I suspect that most were from the UEA. I didn’t know most of them, but @littlemsautumn was there, as was Karen, and of course Rob and Penny, plus Dale, the Pilches, Sophie and of course the project manager, who was serving drinks but no nibbles. The place looked pretty good, but there were one or two errors on the boards, which I didn’t mention to Matt (the project manager).

On Sunday I preached at church, and we spent most of the afternoon watching the Monaco grand prix, not because it was exciting, but because we wanted Ricciardo to hang on and win with his underpowered car. He did.

We spent much of the rest of the weekend and Monday morning sorting out pictures to be used in our Golden Wedding celebration at Angela’s. In the afternoon we went to Angela’s and discussed details, then went for a meal at the George. We all had fish and chips, which I paid for. Delicious meal, but with repercussions, namely a bad night. Still don’t really know what’s wrong with my throat.

Dot spent most of yesterday in the city choosing a dress for the Golden Wedding. In the end she bought two – very nice, IMHO. Meanwhile I was attempting to sort out the rest of the photographs (limited success) and choose some music for the Golden Wedding. I also walked up to Phil’s to water his flowers, and spoke to Des and Mary. In the evening Bridget drove us to Cake and Compline at Jude’s. David turned up late on his scooter, having prioritised his choir; Vicky was in Spain; and Claire was somewhere else. Everybody has to be somewhere (Spike Milligan).

On Monday we had a DCC meeting at our house, at which we were told that Anna would like to join. Later I learnt via e-mail from Howard that Elwira was already a member, though no-one knew anything about it, and she wasn’t on the list approved at the annual parochial church meeting – thus she didn’t know about Monday’s meeting. Later still I discovered (again via Howard) that Debbie also wants to be a member. I think I may come off the DCC, because non-members are soon going to be the more select group, and it will be less hassle.

On Tuesday Dot and I went to hear Barb Jungr sing some Bob Dylan songs. She sounds German but is in fact English and has a superb voice, as well as a good stage presence. She was supported by keyboard and bass, and there was a strong jazz feel to the evening – which started at 10pm and took place in the Spiegeltent on Chapelfield Gardens. The Spiegeltent is a feature of the Norfolk and Norwich Festival and is half large tent, half pub. We managed to get seats by a small table and bought a half of cider each.

The set lasted about 75 minutes and was really enjoyable, starting with a great version of Times Have Changed and ending with an even more brilliant version of Chimes of Freedom. Pleasant walk home through an empty city.

Yesterday the weather broke and it rained, though paradoxically it was probably warmer. Before it rained I walked up to see Phil and Joy, because they are off for a week with Sam and Lucy (travelling as I write) and wanted me to water their flowers. Later we went to our third Festival event – this time walking up in the company of Des and Chris until we lost them in the Cathedral.

This time it was a Three Choirs event, with the choirs from Ely, Peterborough and Norwich cathedrals performing a number of items that all sounded very similar but extremely well done, accompanied mainly by an organ and a harp. I think Dot liked it, but for me this is the kind of music that is enjoyed mainly by the people producing it – and of course by the parents whose children were in the choirs. We had a couple of them in front of us: the woman tried various positions to get a good view of her son, including two different chairs and the stones by one of the fonts. I don’t blame her – she was quite fun to watch, and you couldn’t see much of what was happening at the front.

More chilly wind – this time at Cromer. No rest for my respiratory tract, which shows little sign of getting its act together. We popped down to the resort after church to put in an appearance at the Crab and Lobster Festival, not through any great love of shellfish but because there was a Paston tent. Most of the action there had been yesterday, but we did manage to catch Peter Stibbons (alias Admiral Clement Paston) in full costume, plus Pat Dawson in a calf-length robe which didn’t seem quite right somehow. Still, because she is from Yorkshire she managed to pull it off – if you see what I mean.

While we were there we made a length of rope (you never know when a length of rope is going to come in handy), bought a driftwood owl and a few other items and had a chat with Keith Skipper and his wife. Amazing how often Keith and I run into one another, given that he lives in Cromer and I don’t. The sun was warm, but the north-east wind was very cold. On the way back we found a restaurant called Rocky Bottoms which has been on Dot’s mind for some time after someone recommended it to her, and we had a brief meal (whitebait and goat’s cheese) before heading home.

Earlier Chris Denton had called into church after the service to talk about Anne’s funeral, and this continued for some while, including a visit to the old church with Howard and Carrie. Anne has left us a gift of a painting of St Augustine’s Church which is really rather good.

On Saturday we drove to Caddington to celebrate David’s 46th birthday. Amy and Oliver are engaged in revision for exams, but we manage to distract Amy slightly with the Royal Wedding (brilliant sermon) while David was fetching Oliver from football practice. He was wearing his Norwich City kit and had scored a few goals – he seems to be a bit of a star. We knew that, of course. Later we watched the Cup Final, much to Amy’s disgust, but before that I went for a walk on my own and discovered a path over a field and into Folly Wood. Quite enjoyable. Lovely food supplied by David; cake by Dot.

Friday was actually David’s birthday. Joe Logan came round and tuned the piano (£88), and later I went to Halesworth. A bit earlier than usual, so that I could pop in and catch Sarah Cannell’s PV at Halesworth Gallery. Very colourful, and she seemed pleased to see me. I emerged to find a crowd gathered outside Pinky’s that turned out to consist entirely of poets wanting to get in. However, for reasons unknown the proprietor failed to turn up, and eventually Sue (not the one in the picture) popped into the Swan Inn round the corner and arranged a room there for us to meet in.

This worked quite well – a bit more spacious – though there were several complaints from the usual suspects about the light not being good enough. Fate decreed that I was positioned, for the second time in five days, to follow the Beowulf lady, who does about ten or twelve minutes of Anglo-Saxon poetry to the beat of a drum. Better than it sounds, actually. I did three poems – From a Distance, Before and After, and Black Cat – which were quite well received, especially the first and last.

The previous day Dot and I went to hear Mary Chapin Carpenter and her band at the Theatre Royal – part of the Norfolk and Norwich Festival. She was on top form, and was preceded by Emily Barker, who was equally brilliant, though without The Red Clay Halo. Instead she had Lukas Drinkwater on bass and a number of other instruments, though not simultaneously. Worth a watch here for a flavour. Great evening, made greater by running into James and Anne Knox Whittet in the bar.

Seems a long time ago, but last Tuesday we had the Eagles and Howard round for a meal. We had intended to have Anna too, and had indeed invited her, but at a fairly late date she discovered she was booked into Belper. At the last minute I discovered that Mary next door was on her own, so invited her to make up the six, and it worked pretty well. The Eagles and Howard were able to talk about India together (the original idea, as they had just returned from the sub-continent, as they say on Test Match Special), while – as well as joining in – we were able to talk to Mary about various other things.

Less rain nowadays, but the past couple of days have featured a chilly wind from the north, which is not what you want at Great Yarmouth. I found myself there yesterday after late arrangements saw me dropping off the new PHS magazine at Rob’s and chatting with Penny; having tea and a roll with Jessie; giving Jessie a list to the hairdresser’s; visiting Sainsbury’s and the cemetery; picking up Jessie from the hairdresser’s; and driving to Yarmouth and dropping off Dot at the school she was visiting.

While she was visiting I went for a chilly stroll on North Denes, called in briefly at Caister Castle before calculating that I didn’t really have time to go in, and then returned to the North Denes before picking Dot up at a pre-arranged spot at 3pm. (Yarmouth has very limited pick-up parking.)

The previous day we were on the coast again – this time at Lowestoft, for the poetry cafe at the Seagull theatre. I read a bit from Isaiah 6, which as far as I’m concerned is a poem, then two poems – Send Someone Else and Not Syria. Dot and I also did a couple of songs – Here I am and The Sands of Luskentyre. Dot discovered that taking one of her air travel pills before performing removed the tension, and she was much more relaxed, and very good. Nice evening.

Earlier in the day we were torn between a talk at the Julian Centre and a tour of the Bishop’s Garden, but because the service ran late, we did neither. Carrie announced that our new interim vicar had been named –the Rev Sarah Quantrill, from Oulton Broad. Her CV etc sounded ideal; so I’m very hopeful. Happily LD’s attempt to start a discussion were thwarted, and a later convoluted e-mail from DH was widely ignored. General feeling among the congregation was very good.

Anne Travis died on Sunday morning at 4am – just reaching her 97th birthday. She had been in hospital for a few days, and her heart was failing. I had been in touch with her daughter Chris, who is  lovely person, and on Saturday afternoon she asked both of us to pray with Anne over the phone, using What’s App on speaker. Apparently this works really well in hospitals. Anne had not been responding and her eyes were closed, but the nurses said she could hear what was going on; so it was quite a privilege.

We always got on really well with Anne, who was a former theatre sister and very welcoming, usually with a joke and a story about her son Andy, who had been a choirboy in the old church.

On Saturday – just after the prayers with Anne – we went to Liz Cannon’s house on Colney Lane for her presentation about Palestine, which was very interesting, though we knew most of it. Met her sisters and cousin who, apart from her husband David and Elvira and Eleanor from church, were the only ones there. Very pleasant couple of hours.

After several attempts Naomi came round for a meal on Thursday evening. She asked me to pick her up because she was feeling a bit vague – a result of her drugs – so I put the time back because I didn’t want to be driving through the city at 6pm. All worked well, though, and we had a good meal and chat. She bought excellent chocolates.

In the event Dot was feeling better by the time we got to the restaurant. We had arrived at Hungate at 6pm for the launch party, only to discover that it was shut, and nothing was happening. This is pretty much par for the course in the Paston Footprints world: on Tuesday I had a meeting with the two other trustees, Peter and Rob, about the lack of information (among other things) and what had actually happened to make Lucy resign.

In the end Peter and I got enough information to satisfy us, though by no means all of it. I think I now have a fair idea of what is happening. However on the Saturday we played it by ear, having a drink at Cinema City and then making our way slowly up the hill to the Italian restaurant near the top of St Giles, where we awaited the Robinsons.

We had a quite pleasant, but not exceptional, meal and really average wine. Philip and Anne then gave us a lift back to our house for coffee and a chat.

On Sunday we had a joint service at St Luke’s, and Dot and I did the music with Nicky Burr. Happily I only called her “him” once, and she didn’t take offence. Really nice person, and we got on well. The Dean was less well received as she spoke about the hostility between the two churches, when there really isn’t any. She was surrounded by an angry group of women afterwards, including Dot and Anna. Suddenly, there was hostility! There was quite a lot of hostility from Dot later, when Norwich managed to lose their final match 5-1 to Sheffield Wednesday at Hillsborough.

On Bank Holiday Monday we decided on the spur of the moment to go to Blofield in the afternoon, to deliver some leaflets and go for a short walk. Very pleasant indeed: warm, but not uncomfortable.

Yesterday was a horrendously busy day, especially for Dot, who had three meetings, including an intervention board and a governors’ meeting to look at head teacher applications, which she had to chair. Both went well, although she got a bit lost on the way from Brooke to Long Stratton. She made it to Fleggburgh all right this morning and has since been painting the wall.

Yesterday I had the aforementioned meeting with Rob and Peter, following which we went and looked at the store. I had delivered Lucy’s gazebo, but that went with Rob back to his place. Glad to get rid of it. Afterwards I observed Rob being videoed for Hungate (I think).

In the evening Dot and I went (late) to Liz’s much-feared Talking Circle, which turned out to be not as bad as it might have been.

Returned yesterday from Nottingham, where we spent a few days with the Evetts. Happily the weather improved enough for us to enjoy some outings, and today we have full-on sun.  Dot has gone into the city to buy a birthday present for Anne, but she is not feeling 100%, which is a pity as we are having a meal out with the Robinsons this evening.

We travelled by train to Nottingham, and after a coffee-starved journey (I spilt Dot’s Starbucks cup while getting into our seats, and the promised trolley did not materialise) we transferred to a tram and were met by Dave at Toton Lane. Happily he had the car and was able to convey us quickly to Katherine Close, where coffee was quickly made available.

Later on we walked round the Attenborough nature reserve, where was saw something that looked like a Puna teal but may have been a ruddy duck. Afterwards we popped into a new M&S outlet to get some wine for our hosts.

On Wednesday it rained in the morning, but we trusted the forecast and travelled to Sudbury Hall, where there is a Childhood Museum. Happily, the rain stopped by the time we got there, and the museum was extremely interesting: nostalgia field day.  We walked round the grounds despite the chilly wind and ended up in the cafe next door, where I had a small apple crumble with summer fruits ice cream, which was delicious. The others had cake. Let them eat it, I say.

In the evening Julia cooked an interesting main course of chicken with tomatoes, which tasted as good as it looked.

The next day we drove to Carsington Water and after tea in the cafe walked to Carsington village (about two miles plus), where we had a baguette lunch in the Miners Arms which, to its credit, does not allow dogs in. We walked back to the car, feeling ever warmer, and then drove to Allestree, home of Alan and Rosemary, where we had tea and cake. Both of them looked rather frail, and in fact Rosemary is weakening, and Alan’s cancer has returned after a long gap. They have accepted our invitation to the golden wedding celebration at Dereham in June; I hope they will be able to make it.

In the evening we went to a posh restaurant called La Rock and had a very pleasant if expensive meal. As usual the amuse-bouches were best, but the wine was good too, as was my fillet of beef.

Yesterday we walked up to the garden centre by a circuitous route to get our steps up, and had a tea in the coffee house. Dot admired the olive trees. After lunch back at the house, we were driven to the tram stop, and Dave and Julia accompanied us all the way to the platform at Nottingham Station. We had half an hour to spare, during which they moved the train to a different platform. A fellow-traveller felt it was fortunate they did not have a brewery. Ho, ho.

Very crowded train from Nottingham, but Dot snatched us a couple of seats, and a lot of people got off at Grantham, after which there was more space. Spent a lot of time reading a book that David Coomes had given me: Whisky in Small Glasses, by Denzil Meyrick, which is a thriller set in Scotland. In the adjacent seat a young male dancer spent a great deal of time telling a mature lady all about his (exhausting) life so far.

We got into Norwich not long after 6pm and discovered we were both very tired. I unpacked my car, but Dot sat down, mainly.

Yet again, it’s wet. This time it’s very, very wet. And cold, and windy. I am looking for a slightly less wet moment to pop over to the station and buy tickets to Nottingham, where we’re heading tomorrow.

Well, that didn’t work. Got to the station, but got wet as well. Dark grey sky. Horrible. Greyness slightly alleviated by woman in ticket office called Kristine, who had diamonds on her eyelashes. On the minus side, she got the ticket date wrong and had to put it through again.

Yesterday was slightly less grey, especially when we got away from Norwich and nearer to London, where we were visiting the Coomes. We had been to church first: Dot had cooked a birthday cake for Phyllis, who claims she is 89, and bought some flowers for Christine, who is retiring as coffee-person after 28 years. The journey to and from London was quite straightforward, and Kristine had her hair back, though the texture had changed following chemotherapy. She looked good as ever, though. David, sadly, was noticeably weaker and a bit more difficult to understand. Still, his sense of humour has not deserted him.

On Saturday we had more rain, which dissuaded us from going to the theatre in the evening as we had intended. Dot had been to Carrow Road to see the last home match of the season and Wes Hoolihan’s last after ten years. Fittingly he was captain and scored, albeit via a big deflection, and City beat Leeds 2-1. Dot stayed behind for the celebrations, and I cooked the Hello Fresh! meal.

On Friday it was raining as Anne and Dot departed for the city, and continued to rain when they got back and Dot departed for her massage while I went to Mundesley to pick up Roger’s framed picture. It was raining there too.

On Thursday, happily, it was not raining as I went to Brundall and did a three-mile walk in the company of David Pilch, who I was in the same class with at school and who is also the husband of the Blofield hub co-ordinator for the Paston Footprints project. I was pretty exhausted by the end of it (he walks pretty fast), but I was given a cup of tea in the church by his wife Barbara, and we had a useful talk about prospects for Blofield in 2019.

In the evening we were at Mundesley Manor Hotel for the PHS annual meeting, which we managed to get through without discussing the fact that Lucy had resigned, and the resulting problems with the re-enactors. This rumbles on, and today e-mails were flying backwards and forwards. I’m hoping that by the time I get back from Nottingham, something will have been sorted out.

Back in the distant past, last Wednesday, we had the HIgbees for lunch, which was very pleasant as always. If I remember rightly, it wasn’t raining.

We have reverted to rain again, but at least it’s fairly warm. I thought twice, but eventually walked up to the Assembly House for the Archant agm and arrived just in time. Had a chat with Doug Bird and Adam Aiken and squeezed into a seat next to Mike Almond and Kevin Maddams. Lengthy speeches, and no dividend, but there seems to be a ray of digital hope through a link-up with an American company.

Long queue for food afterwards but eventually grabbed a chair and sat with Ivor Harvey, Mike and Peter March for a convivial lunch and much reminiscence. No-one present from EDP subs, needless to say. Meanwhile Dot was at the Cathedral for a Head Teachers’ Conference.

Last night another annual meeting – this time the parish one.  The St Augustine’s table was seven strong and fairly merry. Anna brought several half-empty bottles of wine. Obviously I  could only drink a limited amount as I was driving. The meeting itself was a trifle boring and predictable, but hey, aren’t they all? The Rev Simon Stokes tried to be reassuring.

Earlier in the day Dot her annual session with the diabetes nurse, which turned out to be a counselling session in which Dot tried to make the nurse feel better. She’s good at that – and her non-diabetes was fine too. Later she went to the shop, and timed her absence to coincide with Roger Mason’s unexpected visit.

The previous day we called to see his mother after I led a service at church. Dot dropped me off at Rob’s to discuss the Lucy situation with him and Peter. This gave me a new perspective on what was at the nub of it – the cause of Lucy’s resignation from Footprints and as trustee of the PHS. This is not the place to go into it, but it’s really a clash of ways of working, which I guess is nobody’s fault but might have been anticipated. Lots of problems as a result, of course.

Jessie seemed pretty well, but sadly the bird’s nest in her box has been destroyed by a bumble bee. Something else you don’t expect.

The previous day Des and Chris arrived home after their long holiday in New Zealand, and we had a prossecco in the garden. It was still pretty hot, but there were a few drops of rain from a clear sky.

Two meals out the previous two days – on Thursday with Eleanor at Eaton, foolishly arranged for 6pm, which meant that getting across the city was horrendous. Almost hit a couple of cyclists when emerging from Branksome Road on to Newmarket Road; they were travelling towards each other on the path, meeting as I emerged into a line of traffic. Completely mad. Other than that, it was a lovely evening, and we ate in the conservatory with the doors open.

On Friday we went to the Eagles’ for a meal, and had an amazing lamb and filo pastry concoction that’s pictured above, with a yoghurt sauce. I had eaten too much starter and couldn’t finish it, but it was pretty impressive. Another nice evening.