Paul Henderson (left) with Chessie and Jozef at their engagement party
It’s coming up to 7am, and I’ve been awake since 4 – up and about since 5.15. This is an aftermath of my endeavours in the last two days to book a flight to Florida for next April: a process that drove me so crazy I had to lie down under the bedclothes yesterday evening with blood rushing round my head. In the end I was making repeated online attempts to confirm that it had gone through, together with numerous calls to both the website operators and Barclaycard. During all this I also booked a car which was probably too expensive, but I had lost the will to even discuss it.
This came after about a week of not getting enough sleep, which is worrying as I know this makes me prone to illness, but there’s nothing I can do about it. Things just seem to pile up.
A week ago we had a Paston trustees’ meeting out at Dayspring. The journey out there was pretty awful, obstructed by a series of dawdling drivers, but the meeting was OK. Unfortunately I haven’t had time since to write the minutes, and as I rely quite a lot on remembering what was said to fill out my notes, this is rather worrying. I feel sure there were some other things I had to do as a result of the meeting, but let’s hope that’s in my notes.
On the Wednesday we had Sophie round for lunch – in the garden – and afterwards I went with her to visit Geoff, who is making more progress. His left side is a bit more mobile, and the doctor was optimistic about his feet. It became clear too that he can read, though he finds it difficult to read aloud and still forgets a lot of words. Sophie took in a cassette player for him. Since then he has been moved to the West Norwich Hospital and according to Sophie is getting a lot of therapeutic help. I am trying to contribute by organising visits, but not with a great deal of success.
After leaving the hospital I called in on Margaret Comerford, who had some money for the church from her meditation group. We sat in her tiny garden in King Street surrounded by bees.
On Thursday Phil drove me to Coventry, and we took Andrew out for lunch. He is vastly improved. He suggested the Post House at Allesley, but on the way there we saw a Harvester and ate there. A very good meal: I like the Harvester system. Afterwards we drove to Corley (where else?) and then to Memorial Park before returning Andrew to Minster Lodge. The journey both ways was pretty straightforward, but of course tiring. I now have to contact the council again to sort out his money, which will reach a critical level again within a couple of months or less.
While I was in Coventry the car went in for a new condenser, and Dot collected it after spending a few hours sorting out papers and photographs with Angela at A Ethel’s place in Hethersett. Meanwhile Amanda has died suddenly, after suffering pancreatitis and a chest infection. Her funeral has been fixed for this Thursday, unfortunately, when we are tied up taking Anna to Houghton Hall for the St Petersburg exhibition. We have sent flowers, and Angela is representing us.
Andrew and Phil at Corley Rocks
Friday was a bit different, not least in that it rained quite a bit, but mainly in that I spent most of it filming in the city with Peter Stibbons for the Paston DVD. We started in the Briton’s Arms and took in most of the Paston sites. It was quite strange standing in the street speaking to a camera that was not always totally adjacent. Sadly, no-one asked for my autograph, but a group of lads on the Julian Bridge did want to know which channel we would be on. We had lunch at home and ended with a cup of tea there. A fascinating experience. The filming, not the tea.
In the evening we were on the move again, up to Loch Fyne for my birthday meal with the Robinsons, only a month or so late. Again excellent food and friendly service, but very slow. With four of us, it didn’t matter much. Had some excellent halibut. Late birthday gifts of prosecco and chocolate: perfect.
On the road again on Saturday, starting fairly early for a trip to Mottingham, where the Hendersons were putting on an engagement party for Jozef and Chessie. All very agreeable: had some interesting conversations with people from Norfolk and with Maryta’s sister and niece, as well as with Paul and Maryta themselves. Got cut off in the middle of a promising conversation with former head Chris Brown, but ended up talking in depth with Chessie’s mother, from New York State, and her friend Béatrice from Avignon. Click here if you read French. Then we raced the rain back to Norfolk, and won.
Since then I’ve been trying to catch up with e-mails and paperwork. Before the flights fiasco I was spending most of my time sorting out church finances, and I paid some cheques into the bank yesterday. The weather continues warm, which enabled me to slot in a bit of bush-trimming in the front garden, so that the brown bin was suitably charged, ready for emptying today. Yesterday this account was hacked by some Bangladeshis, but fortunately David was able to save the day and sort it out.
Dot takes a break during our walk to St James Hill, Mousehold
Well, eventually the gas man cameth and fixed our problem – unsurprisingly a sticky valve. Again. And I got to speak to Andrew on his birthday, though he was rather vague. The next day (Wednesday) things looked up considerably, as David and Chrissy arrived for a three-day stay. They largely organised their own activities, but we took them to Prezzos (unfortunately not at their best), and on the Friday we all went to see Jessie at North Walsham. We also shared several meals at home, and it was lovely having them with us.
On the Thursday, while they were out in south-east Norfolk, I went to visit Geoff in hospital and was encouraged to find him upbeat and making good progress. His right side is still largely paralysed, though he can move his foot and thumb, and he can sit up with help. He can talk (though he has trouble remembering some words) and he can swallow. His toes are a bit of a mess with gangrene (caused by lack of circulation during his operations), but apparently this will sort itself out. He looked more like his old self. Sophie was also in good spirits. The hope is that he will move to the Colman Hospital for rehabilitation this week.
Also had a committee meeting about the parish share in the evening, which was rather depressing. We need to find quite a bit more money next year, but everyone then talks as if we’re running a business and need to behave accordingly. I find this very difficult. Paul: “We’ve been asked to go over into Macedonia to help people there, but unfortunately we probably won’t have enough money; so we’ve decided against it.” End of New Testament. It’s probably just me.
On Friday the car went in again to have the air conditioning looked at, and it turns out that this is more serious than we thought. So it’s going in again on Thursday to have a new condenser fitted. Another £300 down the drain – or in the radiator.
David and Chrissy stayed on until late Saturday, which was a nice surprise, and on Sunday it seemed very quiet. In the afternoon Dot and I walked through the Rosary and up to Mousehold. Clouds threatened showers, but nothing happened.
Yesterday we went out to Park Farm. I had been intending to go for a walk while Dot had her session, but it started raining on the way there, so I decided against. In fact the rain didn’t really materialise, but it was too late: I had ordered the food. Afterwards we went to see Aunt Ethel at Welborne. She seemed very well, perhaps because she has begun to eat. Quite coherent and clearly in a better state than many of the other people there. It’s a nice setting, but sitting in rows in a lounge is never very stimulating.
Meanwhile poor Barbara M has been moving too fast again, and this time has done herself serious injury, falling down the stairs into the basement and fracturing her pelvis, not to mention various bruising and lots of pain. She is going to find it hard having her movements restricted over the nest few months. I imagine Roger will find it hard too, in a different way.
I have made some progress on writing Amy’s story, which I’m quite pleased with.
I’m writing this as I await the arrival of the gas man – an appointment pinpointed at between 8am and 1pm. It is Andrew’s birthday. Hopefully his presents will have arrived, and I will phone him later.
Again, it has been a busy week. After mentioning that the meal for our last Tuesday Group would be cold because we were both too shattered post-holiday to cook, the Archers and Vicky both volunteered to bring food. In the end we had a curry prepared by Vicky and a nice evening. Tonight’s has been cancelled because we’re going to West Runton to see Fred and Sue.
On Wednesday I had my last session with Sharon. My shoulder is not completely better, but it is much improved. Quite enjoyed a bit of physiotherapy, and I shall miss it.
We were entertained lavishly twice last week: on Friday by the Greens – an evening meal in their garden with Claire and Phil, followed by tea and coffee upstairs in their unique house. Food and wine were in plentiful supply, as was the conversation. A lovely evening.
The following day we were at Dunwich, where we helped Annette celebrate her 50th birthday at the Cliff House holiday park, which is a lot better than it sounds and which her family and friends seemed to have taken over. Annette had a beautiful cottage, others were in tents, and the celebration centred on her mother’s large wooden chalet where, again, food and drink were abundant.
We eventually located the latter by the Liverpool accents and eventually Annette’s distinctive laugh. Guests included Caroline, Martin Laurance and Teri.
Another big day on Sunday. I was preaching at church, and this was followed by a rehearsal for our visit to the Seagull in the evening. In the afternoon we called in to see Phil and Joy with some Scottish marmalade, and updated them on Andrew. The performance at the Seagull went quite well – especially the first half, when we did my new song, The Rolling Hills of Pakefield, and The Man in the Mask. In the second half we did Feels Like I’m Falling Apart, which was fine, and the full version of Bernadette, which was probably too long. However, we got a good response, and I read a couple of poems too. As you will have guessed, the number of performers was not the highest.
Yesterday saw the culmination of house-cleaning and rearranging, thanks to my wife’s almost limitless energy (I suspect she is siphoning off some of mine). I did arouse myself in the afternoon to paint our two gates and was quite pleased with the result. They also survived a thunderstorm a couple of hours later, following which we went to Morrisons to replenish our fast diminishing food supply.
The last leg of our homeward journey began under grey skies after a couple of problems. the first was that there was no hot water – result of a lightning strike, apparently – and as a result we got a £10 voucher for our breakfast (which still left us £8 short). However, the food and tea were good. The drive home was pretty straightforward, but tiring. We called in to see Andrew, and he seemed pleased to see us. Left him some sugar almonds. He was considerably better than the last time we saw him, but very loud.
We drove on via the M45 and M1, with the weather improving relentlessly. Stopped for petrol just past Northampton and then got food at Cambridge Services. Dot drove from there, but I was still exhausted by the time we got home, around 6pm, just in time to see Hamilton win the Hungarian grand prix. Didn’t unpack much, but sat in front of TV after opening my cards and presents (from Phil and Joy). A second birthday! Phil had kept the house and garden very much in order, for which we were grateful.
Yesterday we finished the unpacking and I spent much of the time catching up with various things too boring to go into. Dot felt shattered but had to go and meet Angela and A Ethel at the latter’s new home (temporarily at least) in Welborne. Today is much cooler and quite wet this afternoon. I was about to take the car to Kwik Fit to ask them to have another look at the air conditioning, but all of a sudden, in the short drive there, it started blasting out cold air. I decided to leave it alone for a bit and see what happened. By contrast our hot water system seems to have taken the opposite route and is turning out water that’s far too hot. Possibly a thermostat problem. Again, I’m giving it a chance to put itself right, but I’ll probably turn off the system tonight. Emerged from house briefly to do some shopping for Tuesday Group, but Vicky is providing curry.
Between July 10 and 28, Dot and I were away from home. This is just on the edge of what I find comfortable in the area of being away from home, but well within the boundaries of time I feel comfortable in Scotland. There’s a paradox for you. Ah, well. It went a bit like this:
Wednesday, July 10
Drove to Glasgow. Started cloudy and cool but became warmer – very warm on arrival. So warm in fact that Dot backed into a parked van. Don’t ask me why. Van escaped unscathed. Drive up pretty good, the only hold-up being at Elveden, where a car had broken down. Stopped at Cambridge Services, M6 Toll, Carnock Richard and Westmorland Farm Shop, then again briefly so that Dot could drive on approach to Glasgow. Couldn’t see any way to get on to M8 going in right direction (east), so went off and came on again, which worked well. Tried to follow Premier Inn directions, but went astray near the Cathedral; enlisted the help of Google Maps on my iPhone, after which it was a total doddle. Nice hotel with welcoming staff. I had a steak, and Dot lasagne after watching Test match highlights. Brief walk to river afterwards.
Dot back at her birthplace – 24 Waterside Road
Thursday, July 11
After quite a good night’s sleep had a reasonable breakfast, then headed out in the sun to Dot’s birthplace – 24 Waterside Road – which we found without much difficulty about a mile away. The road is still there, bordered by the River Clyde, but the houses look a bit newer, though the area is clearly still less than affluent. Took pix of Dot on her second appearance in the Gorbals, then we crossed Ballater Street (and the river) into Glasgow Green, a beautiful park containing the People’s Palace and the Winter Gardens, where we had an ice cream and visited a museum with some wartime memories of the area.
We then walked across the park and up to St Andrew’s in the Square, where we picked up a tourist bus which took us across town and via many noteworthy landmarks to the Kelvingrove Museum. Here we had tea and a sandwich and looked at a lot of excellent pictures, plus a Rennie Mackintosh room, and got very tired. Undeterred we headed out again, following directions that surprisingly turned out to be right, up the hill to the university – a very wearing walk in the sun – and the Mackintosh House there, where we joined a guided tour. This turned out to be very interesting, despite an irritating American who kept trying to turn it into a private question-and-answer session. While waiting for the tour we popped into the adjacent Hunterian Museum, which had pictures by Whistler next to somewhere we could sit down. After the tour we caught the tour bus again (one ticket for two days) and headed homewards. During a convenient break I managed to get some cash from a machine, then we continued to the stop where we originally boarded before walking the last half-mile or so (bit more so, in fact) back to the Premier Inn and some iced fizzy water.
Friday, July 12
Another hot day, and my 68th birthday. I have been an adult for 50 years, or half a century, whichever seems longer. After breakfast we walked to St Andrew’s in the Square and caught the tour bus to George Square.We then walked to John Street, where we spoke to a friendly guy in the city hall about Dot’s search for her birth details. He wasn’t able to help much, but referred us to the Mitchell Library for voters’ lists for 1945. Dot decided she didn’t want to spend a lot of time doing that, so instead we walked through the city centre to Sauchiehall Street and the famous Willow Tea Rooms, which turned out to be not only famous but lovely and not packed out. We both had tea, and I had a strawberry tart. The design was amazing; great atmosphere. After a couple of purchases in the shop downstairs, we got the bus again and walked back to the hotel from our usual stop.
After a brief respite with iced fizzy water, we got directions from the receptionist to Pollok Park and the Burrell Collection. This didn’t work out perfectly, largely because Dot mistook the end point on the map for the beginning, and vice versa. However with the help of the atlas and Google maps we eventually made it. Pollok Park is stunning, and so is the building housing the Burrell Collection (though the eco-friendly roof doesn’t work and is leaking in places). I was not too impressed by the temporary exhibition, but the permanent exhibition upstairs was interesting (I liked Baudin and Ribot), and there was some lovely work by Rodin, including The Thinker. Good cafe too.
Lasting impressions of Glasgow: the wideness of the roads, the slowness of the traffic lights, the way all the exhibitions are free – oh, and the friendliness of the people, especially those in our hotel.
Saturday, July 13
Woke latish following a bad night. After breakfast discovered that David and the children were already on the road and ahead of us. Left at 10.40 and got on to the M8 fairly easily. Journey was straightforward despite some slow drivers on the A93, and we met David at Braemar at about 1pm. Lunch in Fife Arms, then drove to Ballater, arriving at The Coyles around 2.30pm. Very big house. From hot in Braemar, it became chilly at Ballater, with very low cloud. Bought food, played cricket in garden, bought fish and chips and watched Test Match highlights after eating it. For my birthday David bought me three books and two films, Amy gave me a lovely key ring she’d made, and both children made me beautiful cards. Dot had trouble with the washing machine, but it made sense eventually.
Sunday, July 14
David up early to meet Chrissy (and Roger and Barb) at Edinburgh Airport. D and C arrived in Ballater just after midday, R & B half an hour later. After something to eat and various items like shopping and cricket we walked round by the river and spent some time on the stones. Very warm today. C & B joined us by river and we walked remainder of circle. Interesting meal followed by watching England beat Australia (just). All shattered. Bed quite early.
Roger, Barbara, David, Chrissy, Amy at the far end of Loch Muick
Monday, July 15
“Short walk” (Barbara Murray) round Loch Muick in pleasantly warm weather. Actual distance 7.6 miles. Struggle for Amy and for Chrissy, still battling jet lag and developing sunburn. My hay fever from yesterday disappeared. Beautiful walk, in fact. Afterwards drove to Log Cabin for drink and snack – probably a bit too far, but very nice when there, as always. Fish and chips later – I had egg and chips. Spent rest of evening talking and looking at photos, and deciding what we’ll do the rest of the week.
Tuesday, July 16
Cloudier, but warm, though with some light rain in afternoon. Drove to Balmoral, had food then visited ballroom and guest cottage. Sheltered a while from rain then climbed up path, but didn’t get far because Amy was not keen. Dot and I had extra cup of tea while Roger, Barbara, Chrissy and Oliver visited Crathie Church (Amy and David resting in car). All visited Distillery and I bought a baseball cap, then drove home by southern route. David, Oliver and I went up to Monaltrie Park to play cricket. Lovely meal, but I had violent diarrhoea afterwards. Soon got over it. Watched some Twenty Twelve followed by The Trip, with Coogan and Bryden.
Oliver and David on Craigendarroch
Wednesday, July 17
Warm and dry. While Roger and Barbara walked Seven Bridges and the others went to the river, Dot and I went into town and bought me some binoculars (birthday present) for £170, a top and scarf for her and some meat for supper. Had drink and muffin at cafe, sitting outside! In afternoon I played cricket with Oliver, David and Roger while others went to river again, then – after a brief break – Dot and I, Roger and Barbara and Oliver climbed Craigendarroch. David met us on top, having started later and gone a long way round. We all returned by another route I recommended, despite much doubting by others. But it worked well. After supper watched more Twenty Twelve.
Thursday, July 18
Even warmer. Got up fairly early to climb Craigendarroch again, thinking I’d lost my binocular lens cap up there. But it was found by Dot in the house while Oliver and I were on the top. Nice walk though, especially during those moments when I could breathe. Later drove to Linn of Quoich, where Amy got stung by a wasp but otherwise things went well. Had late lunch at Fife Arms, then drove home, pretty much exhausted, except for usual suspects, who immediately went to the bookshop.
Amy gets to grips with the stream
Friday, July 19
No reduction in warmth. Five of our number set off under blue skies at 7.55am to climb Lochnagar but had to retreat from the ridge at about 1pm, feeling exhausted under the hot sun. Meanwhile, Dot, Amy and I played storytelling using Dixit cards, then went to the little bridge off the Corgarff road to play in the stream (at least, one of us did). Idyllic spot. Managed to receive a call from Coventry about Andrew as well as a couple of texts from David to say they’d turned back. We eventually drove back to Spittal of Glen Muick to meet the Lochnagar party as they arrived, rather tired in the sun. Good achievement, though – especially by Oliver. Fish and chip supper.
Saturday, July 20
Still very warm. everyone pretty tired, so had a quieter day. Mooched around town, including Larks Gallery and cycle and sweet shop before arriving at new corner cafe for very good lunch. Later in the afternoon Barbara, Roger, David and Oliver walked out on cycle path towards Cambus O’May while I took Dot, Chrissy and Amy there by car. Very crowded, boys jumping off bridge etc, and distance was more than I had thought, so Dot, Chrissy and Amy started walking back. I found a layby where path came to road and amazingly proved to be almost exactly where the two parties met. All hot, so I gave lefts home in shifts to all except Barbara, who hurtled back on her own, setting a new world record for a cross between walking and running. In the evening had a fantastic meal at the Glen Lui. Drinks outside followed by meal in room on our own, and excellent service. It doesn’t get any better.
Sunday, July 21
Four left early (6.15am) for Edinburgh airport. Roger’s car had a flat halfway down the road, but fortunately David had a usable pump, and the tyre stayed up for the journey. Hot again, and we did very little except go to the shop for some food – on the way home as David arrived. Later emptied bottles at car park. Not much else: Froome completed win of Tour de France, England hammered Australia in Ashes and Mickelson unfortunately won the Open after Westwood led going into the final day. But he and Poulter came joint third. Dot and I switched to Murrays’ bedroom and a double bed.
Cyclists Amy, Oliver and Dot pause at Cambus O’May
Monday, July 22
A little cooler at first, but sunny and warm later. The five of us remaining hired bikes (£42) and rode down the old railway track to Cambus O’May and then Dinnnet and back – a total of about 15 miles. By the time we got back, Dot and I were quite sore and Amy was flagging (not surprisingly). She did pretty well. Three hours in all – followed by lunch at our favourite corner cafe. Watched bit of Wreck-it Ralph with Amy but kept going to sleep. Managed to keep awake during Dixit, tea and a showing of The Hobbit, but really pretty shattered by the end of the day. Not sleeping too well, for some reason.
Tuesday, July 23
The weather broke, with low cloud followed by rain and eventually a thunderstorm. By that time we had arrived back in Ballater after visiting Glen Shee cafe with a view to taking the chair lift. That proved impossible, of course, but Amy got to touch a cloud, so that was all right. Drove back via old road to Braemar, then over Crathie-Gairnshiel-Ballater road. Played games in afternoon, then Dot and Oliver and I went to La Mangiatoia to book for diiner. Got booking for 6.30 and had another excellent meal.
Wednesday, July 24
Warm weather returned, and David and the children sadly left. We had a walk in town first, a little shopping, mainly of the window variety, then lunch in our favourite corner cafe. Simultaneously two men arrived to lay vinyl in the en suites, three hours early, so we left them to it. Eventually (after our early lunch and after David left) the caretaker Mr Campbell also turned up, as did a gardener; Dot and I left them to it. We drove up to the Lecht and walked up a path to the top on the right-hand side: great views and a ridge walk with minimum effort. Back to the Log Cabin for a snack and then drove to a layby on the road to Gairnshiel, where we took a pic for a Spanish couple and read a bit, before moving into the valley by the bridge for a further read in the evening sun. Good shelter. Then home: watched Looper (one of my birthday presents from David): very clever and enjoyable film. Followed by watching last two episodes of Twenty Twelve. Still funny.
Thursday, July 25
A bit cooler and with some rain. Got up latish and notified caretaker that the vinyl-layers had left two sliding doors unsecured. He came later to fix them, while I was buying newspaper and a present for Oliver. He, his father and sister were meanwhile making good progress homeward and arrived at 2.30pm. By this time we were in the Fife Arms, having travelled to Aboyne in the hope of happening on some 3G and checking where the Boat Inn is. But it was very wet and dark east of Ballater so we headed for Braemar. Got free WiFi in the Fife Arms, so Dot caught up with her e-mails at some length.
After a snack we looked round some shops and then drove up to the duckpond, staying for a while before heading home. On the way stopped by forbidden bridge near Keilloch and saw a deer by the river’s edge, also three heron(?) in the air. In the evening met Ella and David at the Boat Inn at Aboyne and bought them supper. Ella in good spirits, but David didn’t look well, though he was bright enough. They knew many of the people there, of course, but the landlady asked me if I was local, which is a first. She had only been there three weeks.
Dot under a cloud on Capel Mounth
Friday, July 26
Mainly warm and dry with some showers. Had breakfast at cafe in high street, then drove to Loch Muick, making a picnic first. Walked up the path to Capel Mounth and reached a plateau after two miles. Sat down to eat lunch and it started to rain. Black clouds, so finished quickly and retreated fast, but still got fairly wet. Not cold, though, and quite fun. Drove back to Ballater and did some packing before getting fish and chips (I had egg, bacon and chips). Then watched a DVD we’d seen before before finishing tidying up.
Saturday, July 27
Started warm and bright blue, and remained so for most of the drive south to Killington Lake, near Kendal. Dot drove to just south of Glasgow (including a brief return to Ballater when I realised I’d brought a house key with me), then I took the wheel the rest of the way, popping in to Gretna to refuel. From Ballater to Scottish border was just over 200 miles. Diverted briefly to Shap, but having found nothing of interest returned to M6 and stopped at Tebay, “the best service station in the UK” – an accolade I would not disagree with. Had meal and lingered in shop and with ice cream, then continued to Killington Lake.
Here it soon started to thunder and lightning quite enthusiastically, and eventually rain poured down extremely heavily, confining us to our room. We took advantage of a brief lull to go and get a muffin and tea, despite finding the restaurant largely flooded. Returned to room with umbrellas and extra tea bags, awaiting promised accelerated downpours overnight. This was our 45th wedding anniversary, and one of the most memorable.
Amy shelters from the sun at Beechwood School speech day
Another eventful week, though not as intense as some – not all the time anyway. Most intense day for me was Thursday, when I drove to Warwick to see Andrew, who is still not making much sense, but is calmer. He is making regular visits to Minster Lodge and according to the manager, Helen, is quite a comedy turn there. So that’s all good.
I actually went to Minster Lodge to see Jan Sneath, from Coventry City Council, about Andrew’s money, which turned out to be even more complicated than I thought it was. The arrears that I was assured in 2011 were not counted as savings now are (they were arrears for a year only), so this could have had implications looking back. However, the council has decided to ignore this, which means he is self-supporting for another three or four months, when it will all have to be worked out again. Oh joy.
On the way home I called at Papworth Hospital, where our friend Geoff had not recovered from his operation, largely because it was rapidly followed by two others when they discovered other things wrong. As I was parking the car I met his wife Sophie. She took me up to see him. I was in the intensive care area for about 5-10 minutes before all visitors were ushered out as someone had a bad moment. Geoff was unconscious, sedated, and did not look good.
Afterwards I met Sophie by the duckpond – a beautiful spot in lovely weather – and we had a long chat before repairing to the restaurant for a light meal. She was very calm considering, but very tired too. The next day she left for a rest at home, only to be called back when Geoff had a “massive stroke”. He was transferred to Addenbrooke’s for an operation to stop the bleed, where he remains as I write. Sophie is with her daughter in Tunbridge Wells, hoping for a miracle.
As for me, I left her at 6pm and arrived home 90 minutes later. On Sunday we sung my new song, All will be well, at a service which really centred on Geoff and Sophie, and was a beautiful experience. It seems trivial to add that in the afternoon we watched Andy Murray become the first man in several thousand years to win the men’s championship at Wimbledon, surprisingly outplaying Djokovic. Media reaction continues at a high level today.
We had a lovely evening yesterday with Heather, Simon and Sam – first at the King’s Head and then at the Ali Tandoori. Again a very warm evening, and the conversation and food were of high quality. We all get on very well.
The highlight of the week, however, was on Saturday, when Dot and I travelled down to Markyate for Beechwood School’s speech day. We missed the speeches, happily, but enjoyed the end of a picnic on the grass (we ate our sandwiches at David’s house), then had a tour of the classrooms and a chat with one or two teachers. Very hot weather, and when the day ended with a visit to the Cafe du Lion, with Oliver one of the chefs, the tent was quite stifling. The tea and cakes were good, though. Vicky and her parents were there too, but afterwards the children, David and we went back to his house for fish and chips. We headed home around 9pm after a game of cricket with Oliver, who looks a useful bowler.
Today has been spent packing for our excursion north tomorrow. We seem to be taking most of our clothes.
Halfway through the Sunday walk, Dot, Julia and Dave pause to take in the sun on the path near Wells quay
Have just survived the annual Blakeney weekend with nothing more than an annoying cough and fuzzy head. No real reason for this, because we had a very good time in excellent weather.
It started a day early, really, after I dropped Dot at the hospital for her annual check-up (following a mix-up over appointment time) and drove out to Paston to see Lucy and pick up the costumes she’d borrowed from Dragon Hall (later returned there). Lucy wasn’t too bad, but is about to leave for a couple of weeks away with her brother and sister up north. She wants to buy a house in Mundesley, but the complications of it all are taking their toll.
While I was with her the nurse arrived and waxed eloquent on the appalling slow driving that constantly held her up. Clearly a top nurse, and she did the job well too. I left while she was still in action and drove to the Kelling area to try to find the start to a walk I’d planned. This proved strangely elusive, and I was feeling rather faint from lack of food (possibly) so I stopped for a bap and tea at a garden centre (you can tell how desperate I was) before heading home.
Dot and I intended to look again for the walk start on our way to Blakeney the next day, but we were held up by a series of slow-moving vehicles and in the end went straight to the hotel, arriving in rain. But we were not dismayed: the forecast was good. So we paid our usual visit to the Blakeney Hotel’s upstairs lounge for scone and tea – bizarrely, Lucy was there with a friend. For an ill person, she doesn’t half get around.
I had been told by Sharon – physiotherapist and tide expert – that there were some very high tides due, so Dot, Dave and I walked down to the quay after evening meal, but it was too early. Very inconsiderate tide-plannning by whoever is in charge of that. The next morning were were away from Blakeney before it repeated itself. We parked in the layby just outside Holt and walked through by the Spout Hills path, where we encountered some enthusiastic bracken-cutters. We declined an offer to join them and continued into the town, where we found some excellent but very expensive furniture and had coffee etc at Byfords, as you do.
I fetched the car and picked the others up in town to proceed to the start of the walk, which I had now tracked down on a map and turned out to be about a quarter of a mile from the garden centre I had visited the day before. Very pleasant five miles-plus, walking downhill off Kelling Heath, crossing the coast road at Kelling and reaching the shingle beach by the Quag. Julia, in open sandals, had trouble with the shingle, but we persevered until we reached Weybourne, where we walked up into the town and had lunch at BunTeas (get it?).
BunTea (or Zoie, to give her her real name) proved extremely loquacious. We stayed awhile, then proceed up the road and then by a narrow and rather overgrown path up Telegraph Hill to the railway line. Quite a steep climb in places, but from the line an easy stroll back to the car.
When we stopped in Cley so that the Vigorous Three could look at some shops, I discovered that I had lost the hotel key. After getting a substitute one from the hotel I retraced our steps (the lay-by, the start of the walk, Byfords) without success. I was about to give up when, back at the hotel, I made a last, in-depth search of the car and found the key beside the driver’s seat. It had apparently fallen through a hole in my gilet pocket that I didn’t know was there.
The next day’s walk came courtesy of Dave: it was one they had done previously on their own and took us from Holkham (following the obligatory drink) along the beach to Wells, which was extremely crowded around the famous beach hut area. From there we walked into town along the straight path, pausing for breath at one point on a sunny bench – it was a warm and bright day – and then finding a tiny garden cafe just off the main street, where we had a rather refined lunch.
After considering briefly whether to catch the Coasthopper back to Holkham, we decided to walk it. After a longish stretch on the road we reached a wide, straight and level path into the Holkham estate, crossing back to near our starting point. Unbelievably the other three had the energy left to look round Adnams’ shop. I found walking across the road to retrieve the car much less exhausting. We ended with an ice cream / lollipop at the cafe.
We then made an attempt to drive through the estate as we had done many times before, but were stopped by a security man who said this was no longer permitted. Instead we circumnavigated the estate on country roads, establishing that the place is indeed massive.
We all went to bed fairly early. The hotel more or less shut down at about 9pm, but it is still pleasant enough, with good food and comfortable rooms. Next day the others had to leave for home (or in some cases Aylesbury) after breakfast, so we were away quickly too, calling in at Holt to buy two rather nice lamps from Bakers and Larners – Dot negotiating a discount rather impressively.
We were home at lunchtime, and both of us pretty tired. Dot organised her lamps, of course, and I unpacked, but after that we did a lot of sitting down, savouring the twin delights of Vettel dropping out of the British Grand Prix while in the lead (recorded) and Serena Williams being knocked out of Wimbledon by Sabina Lisicki (live). Laura Robson could have got through to the next round, but she made a hash of it.
No, we haven’t moved. This is Dot at Adrian Ward’s 60th party in the garden of his rather impressive house. There were a lot of people there, but not in the picture (obviously).
Summer has gone temporarily absent, and it’s raining as Dot prepares to depart for her orchestra rehearsal. She has been at Barbara’s all day, discussing future P4C activity. I went for a session with Sharon, armed with my “normal” x-ray results. It does seem to be getting better.
I was pretty tired, though, following a hard day yesterday in the recording studio at Katy’s Cottage, Wood Dalling, otherwise known as the home of Kay and David Riggs. We managed to get through the entire performance of what has recently been known as “The Magnificent Margaret” , taking one speech, poem or song at a time and then re-recording when the girls managed to hear some tiny interference on several tracks that was indiscernible to the men.
I even recorded my song – guitar first, then vocal. An interesting experience. It was quite warm and we ate outdoors. Had a stomach upset during the night and early this morning, but that was probably a coincidence.
Eventually retrieved Dot’s MX5 from the garage on Monday, but it cost us over £1000, largely because everything was done at once: new power steering fluid reservoir from Japan, service, brakes, renewal of roadside assistance… Gave a bloke a lift from the garage into Norwich who turned out to be from North Walsham and (inevitably) a former pupils of Jessie’s. Michael Self.
Later that same day, while Dot was at a governors’ meeting, I went to a private view of the annual 20 Group’s nudes exhibition; I was invited by Hilary. Not very impressive, to tell the truth, but free wine, and I ran into Rosemary Dixon from Archant library who, I was informed by a passer-by, is a fiddle player. She didn’t seem entirely sure.
The big event of the week, of course, was the joint service at St Augustine’s on Sunday, about which I had been having bad dreams for some time. It turned out to be OK, though, with the visiting clergy person, the Rev Eleanor Langan – lead chaplain at the N&N Hospital – turning out to be a sweetie.
Quite a big congregation; the church hadn’t been swept, and I didn’t follow precisely the guidance I’d been given, in that I forgot the second chalice and neglected to put the collection plate in the right place at the end (not strictly my fault, that). I also refused to use the ugly makeshift shelf for the pulpit and rigged up a music stand for EL’s notes instead. And I forgot to light the candles on the altar.
But on the plus side, the leading of the service was fine, and everyone was happy afterwards. Dot and Steve did an excellent job with the music. EL left her coat behind, and I delivered it to the Chaplaincy letterbox at the hospital in the evening while delivering Dot to see A Ethel, who is still in situ. EL was quite impressed by this.
Geoff’s operation at Papworth didn’t go too well, and he was unconscious for several days, but he has now woken up and will hopefully start improving, though we have no details.
Lovely picture of Dot taken by the head teacher at Little Plumstead school. Yes, that is a pine cone on her head. Don’t ask.
That was a rough week, bringing with it the return of the dreaded upper respiratory tract infection, which caused me so much grief in my younger years. Thought it had gone for good, but it all came back again with the usual unpleasant symptoms, and I was in bed for three days with everything streaming. In essence I think it was the virus Dot had (and she had it bad enough) but it seems to debilitate me completely. I am now feeling OK, though rather tired, and a little clogged up. Dot still hasn’t got rid of her cough.
I missed leading the service and the visit to Oxnead Hall on Sunday, and a meeting at the Norfolk Record Office and the Launch of 26 in Norwich (Paston connection) on Monday, all of which was disappointing. Dot went to Oxnead, Phil took the service, and Rob went to NRO (which he would have done anyway).
While the virus was getting into me, and before it reached its three-day apex, I went with Dot to Judy’s for supper on Thursday – lovely fish pie and Eton mess, amusing cat – and paid a misguided, fleeting visit to Welborne Arts Festival on Saturday while Dot was visiting Auntie Ethel in hospital (yes, she’s still there – Ethel, not Dot). The weather was chill and coming on to rain, but I had a brief chat with organiser Mike and, unexpectedly, top artist Kate Coleman, who had a small tentful of paintings. Then I ran for the hills, getting back to the hospital just in time to give Dot a lift home.
That reminds me, I ‘ve written a new song called The Rolling Hills of Pakefield, which I like quite a lot.
I’ve spent the last couple of days completing preparations for Sunday (though I made a brief foray into town today to pay in cheques and buy paper). An unexpected complication – and I realise I’m looking at this from completely the wrong point of view – is that our friend and church member Geoff Saunders is on the critical list in Papworth following an operation to replace his aorta. Nicholas rang, concerned that my leading of the service on Sunday would be affected if he dies, and it certainly would, but I think I could cope. Hope I don’t have to, of course. (Nicholas himself is leading a Developing Consciousness course at St Luke’s and so can’t step in.)
Half a dozen of us had a prayer meeting at St Luke’s yesterday during the operation.
Dot on the path from Spout Hills to the Letheringsett Water Mill.
Life doesn’t get any slower, but at least the weather is something approaching mild today. I stepped outside to go to the supermarket, wondering which coat to wear, and realised I didn’t need a coat at all. Deep shock. We did have some sun last week, but the wind was very chilly, and when we went to Blakeney for a concert on Saturday, it was grey and verging on cold. No, it actually was cold.
The concert, in the church, was good, though: the Mozart Orchestra playing (mainly) Beethoven’s Concerto for Violin. And the violinist, Fiona Hutchins, was brilliant, clearly having a lot of fun, and no self-importance whatsoever. We sat in the third row, and it was great to watch her close-up. She is normally the orchestra leader, and they clearly got on well.
Before that we ate sandwiches in our car on the quay, and then had a quick drink in the bar at the Blakeney Hotel as the tide raced in.
The previous day was much warmer and sunny; so we went to Holt and walked at Spout Hills and across the fields to Letheringsett Water Mill, which was just closing. So we went back up into town and had tea and scone at Byfords (always wonderful), followed by a bit of food shopping at Bakers & Larners. Earlier I’d picked up my new glasses from Boots, who have just texted me to say I missed my appointment. They clearly need glasses.
Going further back into the mists of time, on Wednesday Nicholas talked me through a service I’m leading at the old church on the 23rd. Last night I had a bad dream about leading a service and not having anything with me that I should have. And it hadn’t even been preying on my mind, though I’m not at all sure I can remember everything Nicholas said. It is preying on my mind now, of course. I have to put the order of service together and choose some hymns; then I should be OK. Let us prey.
At the PCC that same evening I met the new parish treasurer, who gave me a document to pin up in the church. Something to do with insurance. Unfortunately I lost it on the way home: I was walking because Dot had the car, which is still in the garage and will be for at least a week, probably more. I am pretending the document never existed. It won’t be long before I start pretending the car never existed.
Sharon had a particularly effective go at my shoulder on Thursday, and it’s been feeling much better since. But I am still awaiting the results of the x-ray.
Busy day on Sunday. After preaching on raising the dead (no visual aids) we went to Adrian Ward’s 60th birthday party at Cringleford, arriving just in time for the food but too early for the only other people we knew (except Adrian and his wife). Martin Laurance eventually turned up, complete with new eye surgery, and later Annette and Teri. In between, Caroline, who read some poems from her Pepys book following a guy who played cello for rather a long time. Dot and I then had to rush away because we were performing at the Seagull in the evening. No music this time, but Dot did assist in a tanka series, and I did a few other poems. Very good young singer-guitarist there called Matthew Shepherd, of whom I expect great things.
And then there was yesterday, when Phil drove me to Coventry/Warwick to visit Andrew. We visited Minster Lodge first and left some money for the man who was transporting Andrew’s belongings from the Langleys. Then to Warwick, and a bit of a challenge finding the entrance to Andrew’s new ward, the Rowans. All the staff very pleasant. Andrew was less manic but still firmly inhabiting a fantasy land – or to be more accurate, several fantasy lands. We had a chat with the ward manager and the consultant, then headed for home, stopping only for an Olympic breakfast at Thrapston. Well, you have to, don’t you?
And now Linda is just finishing Dot’s hair, having cut mine halfway through this blog. Tuesday Group tonight, which I will have to sort out myself, because Dot has a meeting at 6.30pm. She may or may not be back for our meal.
