Luke didn’t come on Saturday; so no progress with kitchen strip lights. Popped round to see how Mairead was, but didn’t go in as they had a crowd of visitors from London. Dot also called today to take a birthday card and small present for Phoebe. She saw Phoebe, but not Mairead, for the same reason.

That was after church today: Phil led. Numbers are generally increasing – we are up to average of almost 20. Phil said he would be retiring at the end of the year and wants to play some more songs! Eleanor announced that she had been appointed vicar of St Helen’s Bishopsgate and chaplain of the Great Hospital. We already knew, but now it’s official. They are a lucky church (and hospital). Sad that she won’t be worshipping with us after February.

Yesterday was Amy’s 14th birthday, and as I write she is on her way to visit us with Oliver and David. They are on the A17; so they may be a while yet. Dot has baked a cake and hidden some small presents.

On Friday Dot and I visited Jessie at Furze Hill. Because of her hair loss, she looks much older, but she is pretty much the same to talk to: quite coherent, but a bit deaf. Her room is quite pleasant, with its own “front door”, which I think is an excellent idea. She also has her own address and post code, and will have her own phone soon. While we were there we saw a cat outside teasing a shrew it had caught, and I wrote a poem later, using that idea.

Afterwards we bought some flowers and went to the cemetery, where Dot found Susannah’s grave, behind the stone of another obviously lesser Susannah. She was Dot’s great-grandmother: same grave as her husband Walter, unsurprisingly.

Weather is still quite summery, and we’re looking forward to our week at Cley. The forecast is good, though it may be a bit cooler.

After some miserable weather earlier in the week (and yesterday), today is looking quite promising, and Dot is feeling better: last night we were debating whether she should go to the doctor’s again this morning, but we both had a very good night’s sleep, and her coughing seems much less.

Last Saturday we managed to get up to Paul’s flat at the old hospital for a meal. The meal was excellent, but the flat was really hot , and we both felt drained afterwards. Perhaps it was the wine. Happily the weather was good; so we were able to walk him comfortably (we had taken the bus up to Theatre Street and walked through the Mall). Paul’s flat is small but quite luxurious and private: he has to let us in and then come down from the third floor to let us into his wing. Even he can’t get in the other wing.

On Sunday we were both tired and I went ahead to church: Dot followed at the last minute, but didn’t play violin. Howard was on piano. For some reason it was very hard to park – something must have been going on somewhere, but I don’t know what. I led the service, and vicar Sarah took the Holy Communion. and preached.

On Monday Dot continued her school visits, but wasn’t particularly well. On Tuesday we had our hair cut – interrupted by a long  phone call from Jude, mainly about Jessie – and then Dot went into the city to meet Sue and Helen. I walked up too and bought some chocolate for Amy. Failed to find book she wanted, but got a book for myself from Anne for my birthday!! On the way back met former pharmacist David Hamblin in the Close. Cake and compline at Judy’s in the evening: took Eleanor for the first time. Claire left halfway through – seemed to be upset for some reason, but no-one knew why.

On Wednesday I drove up and picked up my pills. Now have to make an appointment to see the doctor “about my medication”. Trying to do it online, but no luck so far.  Caught up on various things – long e-mail to Rob about Maids Head entertainment, and completed my tax return. The latter was probably unnecessary, because in the course of doing so I discovered that you can earn £1000 without being taxed. I earned £745, all of which may have to go on paying for bodywork repairs to Dot’s car. Someone hit her while she was parked and left a couple of biggish dents.

In the evening Jonathan popped round with a couple of tickets for the football next Tuesday. Dot was at orchestra: I was writing a bit on sleep for my website.

Since starting this piece Dot and I drove to the dry cleaner’s to take my jacket, then to the garage and on to the body repair people for a quote (and later to some other body repair people who declined to quote). We also got a new duvet from Dunelm and some new strip light bulbs for the kitchen. Unfortunately after replacing the broken one and trying out various causes of the problem over many long hours, I gave up and rang Luke, who’s coming round on Saturday. The plug is OK, the fuse is OK, and I can’t see anything wrong with anything else.  But it doesn’t work. Aargh! I’m usually quite good with electricity.

I thought it was going to be a quiet day.

Today is very warm, and Dot has gone out to buy some bird seed. She is by no means well yet, but is not good at taking it easy. She did manage it yesterday, though, when I spent most of the day at the Julian Centre, volunteering at a retreat (focusing on Julian and Margery Kempe) led by former Norwich Dean Stephen Platten, who turned out to be quite pleasant. I was sort of organising his book signing sessions, as well as providing the cake and drinks.

Dot was intending to make a cake, but even she realised this was not a good idea, so on Thursday I went up to Waitrose and bought eight bottles of wine, four large bottles of fizzy water, some orange juice and five cakes of various sizes. Among other things. Transferred these to the Julian Centre early yesterday morning. Dot was uncertain about coming, but decided not to – sensibly, as she was coughing quite a bit and didn’t look at all well.

This was probably the result of the previous two days, when she went to Fleggburgh School (Monday), the Cathedral to assist with a schools event (Tuesday), Diocesan House all day for a heads induction event at which she was speaking about collective worship led by children (Wednesday), followed by orchestra (Wednesday evening), and a walk with Anne into the city (Thursday).  I persuaded her to go to the surgery on Thursday, where she saw a practice nurse who told her she had a small lung infection and gave her some penicillin.

Meanwhile I had been keeping her fed and doing various other things, sometimes in the garden and sometimes in the house. Also gave Amy a hand with a poem she was doing for homework, though I’m sure she didn’t really need it. It was interesting to hear her ideas, which were quite original.

I believe Mairead came home yesterday, but I wasn’t here; so I’m not sure. Dot wrote a card and put it through the door on her way out. It’s a lovely day today.

Met some interesting people at the Julian Centre: one turned out to be a tourist who had just popped in to see the Centre but found herself hauled in and given a cup of tea. Ended up showing her the church and talking with her and the Dean about Julian, before I showed her the river and the way back to her tour bus. She came from Northampton. Then there was Mariana, who came from Utrecht and engaged me in lengthy conversation before getting a lift back to the Maids Head.

Dot is making progress, but still has quite a bad cough. Nevertheless she is out and about. As I write she is at Fleggburgh School, but is intending to call at the chemist on the way back for advice. The weather is quite pleasant, but there is a touch of autumn in the air. Maryta called round about 10.30am but didn’t stay long.

Yesterday, after I preached in the morning, Dot and I went to a barbecue at Beeston Regis, where Fred and Sue were celebrating their 20th anniversary of owning a mobile home there. The weather was fairly warm (for October), and it was sunny when we arrived. Other present: Marjorie and Pat, Liz and David Cannon and two couples we didn’t know: one of them had a mobile home in the next field (as did the Cannons), and the others lived in Cromer. There was a Kate and another David, and two others…

Anyway the barbecue – not normally my favourite eating experience – was excellent, and most of us slipped inside to eat. I was sitting next to Marjorie (Fred’s sister), which meant I missed most of the other conversation, but that was fine. Did also chat to most of the others at some point or other. Helped to clear up after half the company had gone, and got home at 7.30pm.

The weather the day before was appalling – rainy and cold – but Dot went to Carrow Road and insisted on her return that she was neither wet nor cold at any point. She has an honest face; so I believed her.  Norwich lost 0-1 to Stoke, which doesn’t sound inspiring, but apparently they played quite well and were cheered off.

The previous day I went up to an art exhibition at St Margaret’s (in St Benedict’s). I had been invited to the PV by Rupert Mallin but couldn’t make it last Sunday (Dot was quite ill and I didn’t feel great). He only seemed to have one picture in it – a rather good abstract that he had done jointly with someone else. The rest of the exhibition was mixed. I spoke to the two artists curating, but neither of them had heard of Rupert. I hadn’t heard of them either, but they were amiable enough.

In the evening (after Dot and I had been food shopping) I drove to Diss for one of the launches of Caroline Gilfillan’s new book – a thriller called The Terrace. I arrived slightly late, the room was packed, and I was greeted extremely warmly by both Caroline and Annette, not to mention Mike and Teri (Lockton). Everyone else must have thought I was some kind of celebrity, but I wasn’t. Very enjoyable evening. The book was also being launched in Fakenham and Wells, not to mention the Lake District.

Last week generally I was occupied with keeping Dot fed and watered, but we also got the terribly sad news that Mairead has been told she has terminal cancer – in the liver and adrenal glands. Feel so sorry for the kids, who are almost exactly the same age as Oliver and Amy and whose father died not all that long ago.

Apparently Jessie had quite a bad week because several people who call in regularly have not been well – Dot in particular. Would have gone, but didn’t really think I was well enough to risk it. Have been feeling peculiar – generally OK but occasionally exhausted, and respiratory system not functioning as it should. Could be a lot worse, of course.

Dot has been ill since Friday. She developed a bad cough and a temperature of about 100 and felt exhausted. So clearly she couldn’t go to see Jessie that day, and as I was experiencing similar though much less severe symptoms, I didn’t think it was a good idea to go either.

I was however well enough to host a meeting of the PHS trustees at out house, after which I provided sandwiches (hopefully uncontaminated). We all then went up to the Maids Head – Rob first for a picture, with Peter and I following on – for a Footprints project steering committee meeting, which involved Matt Champion, Karen Smyth and Rebecca Pinner and lasted most of the afternoon. I was taking minutes for both meetings, and I didn’t write them up till Monday because I was looking after Dot and had one or two other commitments.

The most unexpected one was attending the Norwich-Wigan match. Dot obviously couldn’t go and we donated her ticket to Des. But then Jonathan rang and said he had a spare ticket; so after some hesitation and because it was a lovely day, I decided to go. Not a great match, but Norwich won with a penalty in the last few minutes; so that was all good.

Earlier I’d been to the supermarket and bought a chicken, among other things. We had it for supper.

Since Dot still had a bad cough and was in bed, she obviously had to miss her concert at Yarmouth, which saddened her particularly because it was in the Minster and (mainly) because it was the conductor’s last concert with the orchestra. I had a ticket, but was not inspired to go to Yarmouth with Dot not performing.

She was still quite bad on Sunday and remained in bed while I went to lead the joint service (harvest festival) at St Luke’s. This was designed to introduce our style of service to the congregation there (the vicar’s idea) but didn’t work perfectly because half our congregation were unable to attend – Howard was in Nepal, and Anna at an orchestral weekend somewhere – and because we don’t normally have a harvest festival; so I had to adapt our Thanksgiving liturgy. Only two people in the music group (Liz Day from St Aug and Nicky from St Luke’s), which is not normal, and it was a bit unnerving leading a service with the vicar in the front row and two other ordained people in the congregation. Still, it went all right. There was a meal afterwards, and I stayed for most of it, then left to get Dot some lunch.

Just as well, because Maryta had unbelievably turned up, and Dot had unbelievably gone to the door. They were chatting, despite Dot’s obvious incapacity (not to mention  Maryta’s). I got them both a drink and offered to give Maryta a meal, but she declined. She brought some flowers.

I was feeling pretty tired out myself in the evening; so I didn’t go to the private view of Rupert’s new exhibition. I’ll try to pop in this week.

On Monday I cunningly scheduled my bath so that I could open the door to the Hello Fresh man. Not much happened after that, except that I discovered that Mairead had been taken back into hospital with exhaustion and was getting a blood transfusion. Oh, and the men out back kept cutting trees, but not the right ones. They look as if they’ve finished now.

Yesterday I was toying with not going to the Archant coffee morning, but I got an e-mail from Bill Woodcock, who was thinking of coming but wanted to be sure I’d be there in case he didn’t know anyone. So I went, and he came, and happily he did know some others. Quite a good morning: Brian and Robin were there with partners, but Maryta wasn’t. Apparently she went on the wrong week and the wrong day. That is not a joke.

Today Dot seems quite a bit better, though she still has a cough. She had a long chat on the phone with an educational colleague, and I think I hear her coming downstairs. But she almost certainly won’t go to orchestra tonight. Now she is working on some fonts and wants to do some laminating. Things are getting back to normal. I’m quite tired, but I think I’m OK.

Vicky Myers dropped in at lunchtime on Monday to discuss Dot’s sewing machine, and yesterday Dot went for a walk with Anne, taking care to get back in time to go to Tasburgh for an Ofsted feedback. Meanwhile I was writing my pieces for November’s Parish Pump and catching up on other stuff, as well as watching some tree experts cutting down quite a few trees in the area at the top of the road. The experts are still there, but have been careful so far to omit cutting the branches that are overhanging our property.

Yesterday I went by train to see Andrew, which was in retrospect a mistake. Not that there  was anything wrong with Andrew, but the same could not be said of the train service. On the plus side, it was a beautiful warm day.

I got a first-class return, and the first very minor blip occurred on the journey to London, when there was no buffet car (you get free tea and biscuits in first class), and the replacement trolley took until Colchester to reach us. Not really a problem, and I made it on to the Tube in good time. Unfortunately the Tube train didn’t move, and it eventually transpired that there was a signalling failure, and it was serious enough for us to take another route. So I did. It was further, and took longer.

At Euston all seemed to be well; so I went to the loo and then bought a magazine for Andrew. Returning to the platforms I found that my train was delayed. It then transpired that all trains were delayed because of another signalling failure. No-one knew how long for; so I grabbed some sandwiches and ate them in the sun.

By the time I went back into the station, there were no trains out of Euston that afternoon. I made some phone calls, looked some things up and overheard some other things, as a result of which I made my way to Marylebone (walk to Euston Square, tube to Baker Street and complicated change, tube to Marylebone), where I eventually got on the 1440 to Birmingham Snow Hill. Because of the Euston fiasco, thousands of other people did the same thing, with the result that the train was incredibly overcrowded. As I got myself on to the platform early, I was able to get a seat, but some people couldn’t even get on the train.

At Leamington Spa somebody had got their act together and announced the link to Birmingham Snow Hill, via Coventry. That was late too, of course, and full up; so I stood all the way to Coventry: not far, but the average speed was somewhere around 20mph. The people sitting in first class were getting good service, but I was standing; so I didn’t get any.

So I reached Andrew just before 5pm instead of just after 2pm as planned. I spent an hour with him and took the measurements for some new trousers. He seemed fairly cheerful.

I reached the station for the return journey to Euston (or possibly elsewhere) and eventually caught the 1711, which was running well over an hour late and was – you guessed it – full to the brim. I stood all the way to Euston, and again received no first-class service at all. But at least it got into Euston in reasonably good time (considering it was an hour late), and the tube connection from Euston Square was working. After buying a baguette from Upper Crust at Liverpool Street, I caught the 2030, which was on time and not full. The buffet was open, and I got a cup of tea. Arrived back in Norwich, seated and on time, at 2230. Dot was still awake.

Meant to post this a couple of days ago, but the weekend turned out to be pretty busy, though not as busy as David’s. He’s been clearing out his house in preparation for putting it on the market: we had a FaceTime chat with him last night.

On Saturday we went to Jessie’s. She seemed bit improved, if anything, but the weather was not good; so there was no visit to the summerhouse. In fact the last few days have been rainy and windy: this morning is sunny, but still a little chilly. After getting lunch for Jessie we went to Sainsbury’s and then on to the cemetery, where we had another look for the grave of Dot’s grandmother Susannah, but we couldn’t find it. Dot put a new flower container on Doreen’s grave. She had sent away for it from Amazon, and it fit perfectly, which pleased her no end.

In the evening we watched Norwich playing away to QPR on Now TV (£7.99), and they won 1-0 after dominating the game. Satisfying.

Yesterday we went to church for Communion with Sarah and Anna (lectio divina), and after lunch decided to visit Lucy. Sad to say that Naomi has a dog, albeit a very small one. Good chocolate biscuits, though Lucy is still unhappy about the whole Paston thing and likes to talk about it.

Going backwards in time we come to last Tuesday, when we had our hair cut, then went up to church to meet Jim, the guy from Professional Music Technology who was going to look at our sound system. Unfortunately he was tied up; so we got rid of some loft stuff at the tip and Age Concern and then returned. Jim, who is a sound engineer, was extremely helpful with advice. We bought a new cable off him: he said a loop system would probably cost about £2000; so we decided not to pursue it at the moment. Really nice guy. Looked like a biker.

In the evening we had Cake and Compline at ours, but only the Archers and Judy came. Vicky didn’t have the date in her diary, and Claire was doing something in the garden…  As it happened we saw Vicky yesterday: she came to church with the children and with her mum, Helen, which was nice. We also have a couple of new members of the congregation: Marjorie, an old lady in a wheelchair, and her daughter-in-law Sharon.

Last Thursday I road-tested a hearing aid by taking it up to the T-Junction and having a cup of tea with Dot. The background noise was louder and so was my own voice, but it didn’t seem to make much difference to my hearing Dot. Rachel at Boots thought it wasn’t making enough difference; so we agreed to have another test next year. She wasn’t at all pushy – happily, since the cheapest hearing aid came in at £500.

Later we went with Anne and Philip to Ivy’s and had an excellent meal. The desserts in particular were outstanding, and the service was really good. But because we hadn’t been able to get a booking earlier than 8.45pm (I think that’s the reason) I had a very bad night, with some acid reflux, which I hadn’t had for ages.

We had another meal out on Friday at the rather earlier time of 7pm. This time it was at Neville and Mary Thrower’s off Christchurch Road. They also invited Adrian and Jane O’dell. Mary is in the orchestra with Dot, and Neville, Adrian and I were at school together. Lovely evening. The roast fig starter was especially good, and so was the conversation. Dot bought a couple of bracelets off Jane, who makes them.

Earlier in the day Paul came round for a coffee and stayed for lunch. He seems a bit down but has completed the move into his flat successfully. We later heard (from him) that he had entertained both his children over the weekend, and that this had gone well.

This morning Dot is at Brooke school, and I have just received an order from Jarrolds for five more Paston books, which I will take up later today. I also have some Parish Pump stuff to write and quite a number of e-mails to catch up on. So that’s all right.

I have completed three Apple Photobooks – one for our Golden Wedding celebration at Dereham, one for Canada, and one for Kristine of pictures I had of David Coomes. I sent that to her last week, and she seemed pleased with it. The Canada one is still on order.

The heat is on again – by which I mean the temperature is up, and there’s a warm wind. Apparently this is related to a hurricane on its way across the Atlantic, but we should be far enough away from it not to suffer too much. Meanwhile, today has been very pleasant, and we’ve been to see Jessie again – she seems pretty well – taking in a visit to Sainsburys. She has quite a few visitors, and Roger is back from Cornwall. He took her to Walcott yesterday.

Dot has taken to clearing the loft again, which means there’s lots of random stuff lying around, including quite a bit I don’t remember seeing ever. Could someone have been breaking into our loft and leaving electrical equipment in there?

Back to last Wednesday: Naomi turned up for afternoon tea, and stayed till around 5.30pm, thanks to our fascinating conversation (actually she is very interesting to talk to). The next day I popped up to the Castle to check arrangements for the weekend (for which, read on)  with various staff, including Anna McCarthy and Dannielle and Annie. This was followed by a  hearing test at Boots, which was done by Rachel Raven, who is very jolly and comes from Bungay, though with a personality and name like that, she should be the heroine of a Mills and Boone novel.

Turns out I have moderate hearing loss, but excellent cognition. I don’t know whether to be overjoyed or disappointed. Anyway, she wants me to return with Dot so that I can try out a hearing aid in a crowded mall or restaurant. It may help a lot, or it may not. Back at our house, the new vicar came for a cup of tea, and we had an interesting talk.

Saturday was the big day: I started by going up to the Castle to hear Liz McDonald speak on Margaret Mautby-Paston. Pretty good: afterwards I chatted with her and with David Archer, and with Anna and Annie, who was leading the exhibition tour later. I then had a rather lifeless scone and some crips (plus an excellent cup of tea) from the Castle café, which is still not sure whether it wants to be eccentric or just plain inefficient, or both. Later I met Jude and a friend, which was nice.

My main purpose in being there was to lead a group round some Paston sites in the city, but there was some confusion about how long this walk would be, how many could join in and where I should take them. Apparently it was originally arranged by Lucy, then superseded, then resurfaced after something else was cancelled. I was a bit concerned that the numbers would be huge, but in the end it turned out I had about 16, which was OK.

We took in the market, the Guildhall, St Andrew’s Hall, St Peter Hungate, the Paston house on Elm Hill, the Maids Head, Whitefriars and the Cathedral, which wasn’t bad for 45 minutes. In fact it was 90 minutes, and a few had finished early and slipped off (after apologising). All went really well, on the whole. Meanwhile Dot was watching Norwich City beat Middlesbrough 1-0; so that was good too.

Yesterday I was leading the service and preaching, because Phil was away. Went pretty well. Afterwards Dot and I church-sat, because it was heritage weekend. Had a couple of interesting conversations, and met someone who was born in Earlham Hall, as I was. A couple of children (brother and sister) played hide-and-seek in the church while we were there – Leroy and Stella, who I misheard as Levi and Sarah, possibly because I thought subliminally that children playing in church should have biblical names, but more likely because of my hearing problem. We suspect that they stole a couple of quid from the donation jar, but they disappeared after that. I had a good look round the back of the church and discovered a door in the wall. It didn’t go through to the inside, but I guess  there’s a kind of storage cupboard there.

Afterwards I wrote a poem.

Pause. Catch breath. Dot is at a meeting at Diocesan House, and Naomi will not arrive until this afternoon. She wants to talk to us, as so many people do. I am not complaining about this. It is lovely to have so many friends. Anne came yesterday afternoon, and instead of getting some work done while she talked to Dot, I found myself joining in the talk. The problem with me is that I have no discipline. One of the problems.

The big event yesterday was Oliver’s 16th. It is unbelievable that he is now legally old enough to marry. Fortunately he has no immediate ambitions in that direction – as far as I know. At 16 he should be a sullen adolescent, but instead he is as nice as ever. We went to Caddington on Saturday to celebrate his impending birthday, sharing the event with the Coomes family. We ended up playing football and netball on the hard  court over the road – miraculously without injury. Dot and I took some buffet food for lunch, and David and I went to Sainsburys to buy sausages and a few other things for an evening meal.

Really nice day, during which we discussed David’s plans concerning Canada. He is intending to put his house on the market and buy an apartment in Canada,  renting a place in Aylesbury while the children are still at school. At present they are decluttering the house and getting rid of quite a lot of stuff. Obviously a huge change for everyone, but I think it could work out well.

Returning to yesterday, I also went up to the Castle to hear a talk on the Pastons and their treasure by Dr Spike Bucklow, which was extremely good, containing material I didn’t know and also well delivered. The placed was absolutely packed. Met Anna on way in, but she went in the staff entrance; so I didn’t see her again.

Later I spent a great deal of time reinstating a rail in the wardrobe in the guest room, which had broken its retaining fixtures.  The replacement ones I bought were a tight fit, and getting the whole thing up again was very testing, especially as my electric screwdriver appears to have broken. The result was not as good as I would have liked, but I don’t think it’s going to fall down in a hurry.

We’ve been to see Jessie twice in the last week – first last Friday (fish and chips) and then on Monday. She doesn’t seem too bad and can walk around the garden using her stick, but the district nurse came when we were there on Monday, and Jessie told her she had four months to live – not something she had ever told us, though she did say she wasn’t worrying about Christmas presents. Very nice nurse (Tamsin): Jessie is certainly getting a lot of help. Roger is back from Cornwall, but we haven’t seen him. I think he sees his mother nearly every day.

Last Thursday we went to watch the England Under-21s game against the Netherlands at Carrow Road. Not a great day: it rained and actually got cold in the evening. Fortunately we had anticipated this and dressed accordingly, but the match was pretty awful – 0-0.

On Sunday, with Dot busy preparing for today’s meeting, I drove to Lowestoft and read some poems at the Seagull. Ten people performing; so it lasted a long time. Most of the usual suspects were there, doing the usual things. They may have to change the title (“Fresh Words, New Voices”) soon. I read After the Coyote, Wolves, Canadian Insects, Ancient Cedars,  Island Lake, and Since You Left – the first five inspired by Canada and the last one about Kristine and David Coomes. All were quite well received.

The other major event of the last week involved my ears. I went for a hearing test at Boots (with Dot, whose hearing was predictably OK), and was told I had so much wax they couldn’t do it: I had to go to my GP practice to get it removed. First, I needed a couple of weeks’ treatment with olive oil to soften it. I hope you’re following this.

I rang the GP, who said they didn’t do it any more, but Boots did. I rang Boots back, and they said they didn’t, but were training people. So what should I do? I could ring Nick, who had a mobile number, but no address and no surname. Putting aside my qualms, I did this, and found that he was a nurse specialising in ear problems and did have an address, In Magdalen Street. I fixed an appointment  with him and asked about the olive oil. Don’t do it, he said. It makes matters worse.

So I stopped doing it. After some trouble, I found the address in Magdalen Street, but having gained access to the building by tailgating I couldn’t find Nick, and there was no receptionist. I wandered round for a bit and eventually (after a couple of failures) found someone who knew where the Ear Clinic was. So I zeroed in on it and opened the door, to find Nick in the middle of an interview with another patient.

Not put off by the no-frills approach, I waited, and Nick turned out to be Greek (this is a guess, but I wouldn’t mind betting), and a very pleasant guy, who lost little time in removing my wax. Apparently olive oil just gets behind it and hardens, though it’s perfectly OK to use it if you don’t have wax – once a month or so, to keep things lubricated. Apparently I have a very narrow ear canal. I now have another appointment at Boots, tomorrow. A whole new ball game. My ears are quite crackly. I think it’s the olive oil.

And here we are, back live. Dot is at a DSSO meeting in Easton, and I have just been up to the Archant pensioners’ coffee morning, at which Maryta confided that she and Paul had split up. I revealed that I knew, and M then moved on to give Robin and Shelagh the shock news while I talked to people I knew less well about their holidays (and ours).

Yesterday was a lovely warm day, which we spent largely at North Walsham, having lunch with Jessie after walking to Sainsburys and back. Something happened on the way back that I would have put well beyond the bounds of possibility: I told off a driver for driving too fast.  He accelerated fiercely up to us as we were crossing the road and told us we should be using the zebra crossing. I pointed out the error of his ways: it’s people like him who get people like me, who drive quickly but reasonably, a bad name. We did not come to blows, however.

Jessie seemed a bit better: we spent some time in the summerhouse. Her throat has improved, but she had a nosebleed before we arrived, which is a bit worrying.

In the evening we had a large meeting of the DCC, which went on until 10pm. Happily it was at our house. I can’t remember much of it, but Howard and Anna arrived over an hour late after getting stuck on the A14, coming back from Cumbria (family funeral). Nikki was driving.

On Sunday we were at church as usual, and gave Elwira a lift to High Green afterwards before popping round to see Joy with her birthday presents. They were about to have a takeaway lunch with Birgit and Joe; so we didn’t hang around. After lunch we drove up to the Plantation Garden. It was another beautiful day, and the Community Choir were singing, which included Chris from across the road and David Archer, whose wife Bridget and friend Heather were in the audience.

Very informal. After the choir we got what we came for, which was a performance by Colin Payne and his wife of songs such as The Boxer and If it Be Your Will. Colin is a fellow chess player, and we had gone in response to a round-robin e-mail from him. I was pretty impressed, especially by his voice, and encouraged by the fact that he used lyrics and chord sheets. Lovely afternoon in all.