Tea at Mannington Hall

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Amy enjoying the sea at Mundesley last week

Have managed to reach Friday in a rather stressful week. The roof has been fixed temporarily, and the ceiling has a tasteful white sheet covering the holes and the damp section. It stayed up at the second attempt. The second surveyor (for the builders) said the asbestos positive meant the whole ceiling would have to be removed and reinstated, which would involve moving all the furniture out and making good afterwards. Haven’t heard the insurance company’s reaction to this, but it leaves us still in limbo, which I hate. I am not good at waiting.

Meanwhile Dot has finished the wall-painting, and I have painted the trapdoor to the loft, because I am taller. Well, to be more accurate, I have painted it once, and I am about to paint it again. Dot is now immersed in improving the look of the garden, and keeps arriving home with a car full of plants. Keep catching bits  of the Olympics, but not always the right bits. Happily the BBC website is quite good on videos of bits you miss. I am as pro-Team GB as anyone, but I did rather enjoy those South African rowers who came from miles back to snatch the gold.

Two further sources of stress: intermittent Broadband connection at the beginning of the week for no apparent reason; and the unexpected difficulty of finding transport for church members without cars who want to go on a boat trip to St Benet’s Abbey on Sunday for the afternoon service. This would have been difficult enough anyway, but Dot and I are taking Phil and going on to Lowestoft afterwards for our third Seagull gig, so couldn’t take anyone. One of our members with a car didn’t know if she was going until Thursday, another (understandably) didn’t want to come into the city to collect people, and the two people at St Luke’s who might have helped were unreachable by phone or email. Howard could borrow a people carrier but couldn’t drive it because he had no insurance. Aargh! In the end I gatecrashed the Vicarage and spoke to Heather, with the result that Nicholas is going to drive the people carrier.

Our church is full of people who can’t drive or don’t have a car, or both. On Thursday Ian asked me to pick him up from the City College midway through the evening, which I did, of course.

Tuesday was kind of a highlight, because I had tea with Lord and Lady Walpole at Mannington Hall. Also present were Lucy, Jo and John, and we were discussing the Paston event at the Hall in October (weekend of 27–28). As Chronicle, the four of us – Caroline, Rob, Kay and I – are going to do two half-hour slots, but we will have to rework The Heroine of Hungate to introduce a Mannington connection. This is not quite as obscure as I thought it was (there is a 15th century marriage), but it will take a bit of working out. Afterwards Jo and John paid for lunch for Lucy and myself (and them) at the Saracen’s Head. Very impressive spot for lunch. Excellent food. Probably the fist gooseberry compote with mackerel I have ever had.

In the evening Tuesday Group was at the Archers, and another excellent repast – this time sausages and mashed potatoes – was followed by a very tasty video by Rob Bell. This was almost matched culturally on Thursday by a second attempt at a poetry group at the Narthex at St John’s Roman Catholic Cathedral, led by Hilary Mellon. Ten of us present, and it worked much better than the one on Betjeman. We looked closely at three of six Larkin poems that he had read out electronically and without hiccoughs at the start. Found myself liking his work a lot, though not his rather dour philosophy.

Have just made a list of areas for which I am responsible, in an attempt to work out why I never have time to do anything. I am up to 24 at the moment.

Spectacular celebration marks our anniversary

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Amy and Oliver on Mundesley beach

And so the excitement continues. On Tuesday Dot and I picked up Oliver and Amy from Caddington and brought them back to Norwich for a few days, with fine weather forecast. Wednesday dawned fine and very warm, and so we headed to Winterton with an amazing amount of equipment and camped on a surprisingly crowded beach. Locals with dog were heard to ask “where all these people were in the winter” and add: “We want our beach back.” I didn’t point out that we came to Winterton at all times of the year; anyway they weren’t talking to me. There was a certain amount of paddling done, some frisbee throwing, some picnicking and some dashing about in the dunes. All in pretty warm weather.

On Thursday Amy and Dot did some shopping in the morning, and we had lunch at Prezzos. In the afternoon we drove to Mundesley. When we arrived (4pm) it was a bit chilly, with one of those misty things off the sea, but the longer we stayed, the brighter and warmer it became. Amy did some swimming in the sea, and even Oliver and Dot went a fair way in. Astonishingly, I paddled a bit too. By the time we left, just after 7pm, the beach was near-deserted and looked stunning in the evening sunshine. An idyllic couple of hours.

Oliver had heard someone mention fish and chips, so decided we should get some, and we drove to Bacton, where the chip shop was still open after its stated closing time, so we bought some fish and chips and ate it at the table outside. Embarrassingly late home.

Friday was warm again, and we took the City Sightseeing bus around the city, which was a bit expensive but good fun. David had phoned saying he was coming to stay the night, so we decided to go to Winterton again and have some games in the dunes, followed by tea and cakes in the excellent cafe. I impressed Oliver by my speed off the mark and my death-defying leap to reach the hide-and-seek base. Ended up aching all over, which was not so impressive. Got home shortly before David arrived, and we had an evening meal of chicken, some of which I had purchased earlier, at the same time as filling the car up with petrol (well, not exactly the same time, obviously).

Friday was also our 44th wedding anniversary and the opening of the London Olympics. We had prosecco to celebrate (provided by Dot) and then we all stayed up to watch the Olympics opening ceremony, which I thought celebrated our anniversary very well. We didn’t watch it all because it went on very late, but we recorded it, and Dot and I watched the ending today. I have to say I was greatly impressed.

Colin came on Saturday and finished off some stuff in the garden. He was going to do a temporary repair to the living room ceiling, but the company who are going to fix it wanted to see it as it was; so instead he’s left us a board to screw in after they come tomorrow. Meanwhile it rained heavily today, and water started flowing through one of the holes again. I rang up the roofer, who has promised to come tomorrow morning.

I preached at St Luke’s this morning and then went down to St Augustine’s to sort out various money matters and to get shown how our new heating system works. Stayed on to rehearse some songs for Lowestoft next week.

About as perfect as it gets

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Dave and Anandi Brennan

At last summer has arrived, and we are bathed in warm sunshine. Yesterday Adrian and Clarissa arrived in their Potter Heigham boat, Gliding Light, and moored at the bottom of the road. We joined them for a drink in the Compleat Angler (bottom deck), and later they  came up to ours for a kind of high tea in the garden – sitting outside till about 10pm! They had their friends Brian and Celia with them, and we had a good evening. The weather is set to continue as we pick up Oliver and Amy later today.

An eventful few days, it must be said, starting last Thursday with a haircut and visit to a poetry session on John Betjeman in the Narthex at St John’s RC Cathedral. Still cool and wet then, and the session was not brilliant. The members of the group were less than inspiring, and leader Hilary M was not at her best, feeling the effects of blood sugar loss and having problems with the equipment.

Friday was brilliant, however. The surveyor eventually turned up and didn’t inspire an awful lot of confidence. We decided to let the insurers supply a builder for the ceiling repairs (skimming, replacing some plasterboard, and making the ceiling good), but the roof is not covered (if you see what I mean). So I have contacted Mr Bunn the Builder – well, he’s a roofer, actually. He came this morning and did inspire confidence. He’s going to make the roof watertight in the next couple of days and do a complete job on the “valley” and tiles a couple of weeks later. Needless to say the roof featured things he had never seen before.

But that’s not why Friday was brilliant. That was down to Anandi’s wedding at the Cathedral, which was a one-off. Not that it was perfect: the sermon was too long, we couldn’t see clearly, and we had difficulty hearing the speeches at the reception because Blackfriars Hall has lousy acoustics. But it was a fine day and it all had a lovely naturalness and simplicity – for instance, the bride and groom walked from the cathedral to Blackfriars. After the service we had champagne and nibbles in the cloisters for quite a long time: lots of people from St Augustine’s were there, but only Dot and I (plus the vicar and his wife) were invited to the reception. In the cloisters we had music from an a cappella group which had appeared on TV but which was composed mainly of friends of the groom – who sang a little bit as a tribute to his wife! Both Anandi and her new husband Dave are so likeable it’s frightening.

Debbie and Neil with (the Rev) Heather Cracknell, who took the service

On Saturday another “wedding”: this time a renewal of vows after 25 years by Debbie and Neil, two friends from St Luke’s. By now the weather was stunning, and the setting – Ranworth Church on the Broads – was equally gorgeous. Debbie went the whole hog with a white dress, bridesmaids and all the trimmings – we think because their actual wedding had been a registry office affair and very low-key. Cake and tea afterwards in the church grounds (it has a church hall cafe) completed the picture, together with a trip up the church tower, with its spectacular views.

Earlier in the day Colin came round and cut the hedge, and I went to the launch of Joe’s book, Journeying with Abraham, at St Andrew’s Church, Eaton. Couple of dozen people there, which was encouraging for him, and I had a chat with both him and Birgit. Then at the end of a very packed day, Dot and I went round to the Higbees for a meal, which was very relaxing. As a result of that, Alan H came round yesterday to put right a problem with the lighting in the loft that he had installed.

Bright day on Sunday: after a nice service at church, with Geoff debuting as preacher, we relaxed. Dot spent a lot of time gardening, and I watched quite a bit of the Open and saw the end of the Tour de France, with Wiggins in yellow, Froome second and Cavendish winning the final sprint. Which is about as perfect as it gets in the world of cycling.

There’s a hole in my ceiling…

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Dot and Julia, shopping in hand, approach a cafe in Villers

I think we can say it hasn’t worked – in spades. But at least it’s stopped raining for the moment. That means there’s no water entering the roof space and finding its way down into the living room, via the piece of insulation that soaks it up and redistributes it through one of the two large holes in the ceiling, created when I placed my hand on it (very gently) from above.

I was trying to identify the source of the dampness and perhaps move some stuff to prevent it getting worse, but the smallest pressure on the ceiling was enough to thwart that plan. Now we are awaiting a phone call from the insurer’s surveyor to make an appointment to come and look at the damage. This is likely to involve some quite drastic work in the living room, and a bit on the roof too. I suspect that water had been getting inside and being soaked up for some time. The surveyor seems reluctant to ring: I reported it all 24 hours ago. But at least the water has stopped dripping through, and the room is usable.

The chaos is exacerbated by the fact that Dot is in the midst of redecoration in preparation for new curtains. She has nearly finished our bedroom (a new pole was fitted yesterday), and once that is done she will probably have to abandon painting the living room until we find out what needs to be done, and when. We managed to have our usual Tuesday Group meal and meeting last night, but Dot and I were totally shattered at the end of it. This morning she is visiting a school, but she should be back soon.

 

A few days in Normandy

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Stylish Dot on Villers beach

Not much has changed: it’s still raining. It’s like living under a giant sponge: you can feel the weight of it, and now it’s coming through the roof. Since my last post, however, we have been to France, where things were much different: they spoke French. It was still raining, though.

Despite that, we had plenty of memorable moments and a few dry ones. The journey both ways was extremely straightforward despite my habitual fears about what might go wrong. Eurotunnel’s system is little short of miraculous. You drive up to a machine that knows who you are and welcomes you. You then touch the screen to choose a train– which for us in both cases was scheduled at least an hour earlier than the one we booked for. It’s a bit slow going through customs, but the train is quite quick, and getting out of it even quicker.

Stayed with Julia and Dave at their second apartment  in Villers sur Mer on the Normandy coast. Total drive from Norwich just over 370 miles. Dot drove to Folkestone through a lot of rain (quelle surprise), and I drove the rest. We left Norwich about 1.30pm after I had led the service at St Augustine’s, and arrived at Villers, following Dave’s impeccable instructions, just before night fell. No e-mail reception throughout holiday.

On arrival I fell over in the car park – backwards over one of those metal things – and injured my arm rather painfully, though I could still do most things without any trouble. Not sure what it is (muscle tear?) but I now have extensive bruising on the inside of the arm near the elbow.

On the Monday we walked into town and looked at a historical exhibition of illustrated cards and letters and had coffee at a cafe. Back at the apartment we had lunch in the garden (the only time we were able to do this), and in the afternoon did a hilly walk round the “back of Villers”, initially past a parked vehicle containing a circus lion. Nearly six miles in all, and topped off with an ice cream back in town, followed by an evening meal with the Evetts. Cloudy day, but mainly dry. Yes, dry.

On the cliffs at Etretat

Tuesday was also mainly dry, though cloudy. Dave drove us to Etretat via le Pont de Tancarville, which is cheaper than le Pont de Normandie, but not so pretty. Etretat was wonderful, though: amazing cliffs. Had lunch in different restaurant from last time: moules marinieres et frites and some wonderful cidre brut. Then on to Fecamp, where we visited the Benedictine palace/distillery, with free sample at end: I had Benedictine and Brandy cocktail, or B & B, as it’s sometimes known, followed by a swift crepe. Walked about three miles altogether. Salady meal with the Evetts in evening.

The castle at Falaise

Started cloudy on Wednesday, with rain threatening. Bit of rain later, but also some sun. Drove to Cambremer (i.e. Dave drove: my car was in garage throughout), where we stopped for coffee, and Dot bought me a bracelet. Village is known for its scarecrows. Then on to Falaise, where we had lunch at a lovely restaurant in town (omelette and frites) before visiting William the Conqueror’s amazing castle and finding out a lot more about him than I knew. There was an audio tour with chess featured at the outset as symbolic of the court system, and much more besides. Technology was a bit intermittent, but it was interesting hearing about it all from the French side.

Drove back through Breuvons en Auge but resisted the famous crepes as we were eating a proper meal with Dave and Julia when we got back.

Thursday was my birthday – and for the third year running I was not at home. I was 67, and it was the worst day of the holiday for weather. We took the bus to Honfleur and had a nice birthday meal in a restaurant there, sitting next to the guy who created fruits de mer. Entertaining, but I had duck. It started raining while we were eating, and didn’t stop. Afterwards we wondered round the harbour, and Dot bought a top, then Dave and I walked up by the harbour and towards the sea, then through the Garden of Personalities (busts of Francoise Sagain and others) while Dot and Julia continued shopping.

Julia and Dot get down to some serious wildflower identification at Cabourg

Next day was Friday the 13th, but despite that it was a much better day – dry till evening. Went into Villers in the morning, and Dave and I had a brief walk in a muddy wood (part). Dot bought a waterproof jacket in the market and we got some wonderful Normandy pâté, which we had for lunch. In the afternoon we drove to Cabourg, where we had a lovely walk along the spit of land at the side of the estuary – mainly dunes featuring wildflowers that fascinated Julia and Dot. They had a book.

Then back to the prom, which we walked down to the Grand Hotel, then Duponts for tea and cake. In all we walked about 8½ miles during the day. Seafood meal with Dave and Julia in the evening to round off the holiday.

Wrote no poetry in France for some reason, but did finish off a song that I’m rather pleased with, called I feel like I’m falling apart.

The journey back on Saturday was smooth. We stopped again at the Aire de la Baie de Somme, which was very busy. Got to the tunnel about 90 minutes early, but were put on a train immediately. As we emerged into England, there was a massive downpour, and the first miles up the M20 were very difficult. We stopped at Maidstone services, but then I continued driving all the way home (Julia had made us sandwiches). Strangely, didn’t feel tired until the next day.

Got home to find e-mail from Stuart warning that the church hall wasn’t finished and we probably wouldn’t be able to have service.Called the cleaner, Sophie, who wasn’t quite so alarmist, and when we eventually got there on Sunday morning, it was fine, though a bit smokey. Howard had been there earlier and put the chairs out. The radiators weren’t complete, but it looks good. Ruth led, and I preached a sermon I’d written before we went on holiday. Went surprisingly well. The rest of the day we gradually got back to normal.

Today I walked into town to pay in some money for St Augustine’s, and got fairly wet. Dot painted a wall in the bedroom, then noticed a damp patch on the ceiling in the living room. So in a brief respite from the rain we got out the ladder and I climbed up to the top gutter to remove some plant and earth debris there. Little bit precarious, but I didn’t look down. Will have to wait and see if it’s worked.

 

 

From one hotel to another

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Threatening sky at Holme beach

No sooner were we back from one hotel than we were off to another: this time the King’s Head at Great Bircham. Our second visit: Dot was doing a church school inspection at the primary school down the road, and I decided to accompany her to the hotel because I like the area. I like the hotel too, though it’s a bit pricey. Lovely room with a huge bed and good food in the restaurant, though the service is sometimes endearingly and sometimes irritatingly amateurish. There is a new owner since our last visit, but there was no perceptible change.

While Dot was inspecting I headed for the coast – first at Holme, where I walked over the golf course to the beach and stayed for an hour; then at Thornham, where I walked along the coast path back to Holme Dunes nature reserve, which is run by our next-door neighbours, the Wildlife Trust. Bought a gooseberry ice cream at the visitors’ centre and then walked back, after a brief foray through the dunes and on to the beach. Both walks (together) amounted to about five miles.

Despite some threatening clouds, there was no rain until I was sitting in the car waiting for Dot to emerge from the school – rather later than expected at 4.30pm. Needless to say, she chose to come out precisely when the short shower was at its heaviest. So she, who had been indoors all day, got wetter than I did.

Since then we have been preparing for France – or at least, I’ve been preparing for France while Dot wrote her report. We’ve also worked in two visits to the dentist (one each, neither involving any work) and answering various questions from Phil about how the church hall radiators should be sited. I carefully took a radical view so that I can say “I told you so” when the majority decision goes horribly wrong. I now have to write a sermon to be delivered on Sunday week just after our return from France. I blame the organiser of the rota: yes, me again. It’s tempting to preach on radiator placement, but I shall probably resist it.

After a hot day yesterday, the weather has realised its mistake, and today it’s raining, quite hard in many places. The forecast is not good either, and at least two of our friends are camping this weekend. That can’t be good, can it?

A walk in the park

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Dave negotiates passage through a soggy cornfield on the way back from Baconsthorpe

Back from a weekend in Blakeney with the Evetts and the Towns, which left me shattered and cotton-wool-headed. Nevertheless it was a lovely weekend: it was just that for some reason I couldn’t sleep on the Sunday evening. On the plus side, the infection near the root of my tooth seems to be on its way out, which is as well, as I have just finished the antibiotics. Dot is already out taking a head teacher to lunch, and I’m catching up with various things before we both head out to another hotel – the King’s Head at Great Bircham. She is doing an inspection at the school there tomorrow.

The Manor Hotel at Blakeney was as good as ever, if you discount the handle of our room coming off when I tried to pull it shut. It turned out that the handyman had forgotten to put the screws back in after doing some repair work, but he quickly appeared and put it right. The food was good as usual, and the breakfasts exceptional: so much so that I have put back on the pounds I have been carefully losing. Unfairly, Dot has remained the same weight. How can that be right?

We arrived on Friday and had our usual afternoon tea at The Blakeney Hotel, though unfortunately not in the splendid upstairs lounge, which was full. On the Saturday, which was warm though a little breezy, we started with a rather prolonged visit to the village fete, during which all the women bought some jewellery. After a cup of tea we proceeded with the Evetts to the rather posh and lovely Bell at Wiveton, where we had starters only before hastening to Bodham for our walk to Baconsthorpe Castle. We did the full journey (about six miles), including a survey of the ruins and the loop through Baconsthorpe village.

On the way back to Bodham there was a brief shower, which had little effect on us till we reached a narrow path through a cornfield, when our trousers felt the full effect of water lingering on the wheat. Still, they had dried out by the time we got out to the car.

On the Sunday we started by driving to West Lodge, a house on the coast road at the bottom of Sheringham Park which was rented by the woman who sold us the jewellery at the fete (Liz Holman). Overnight she had been making a necklace for Julia and had asked us to pick it up there. Lovely job – and there was a bonus. We could leave the car at her house while we walked up into the park – which we did, and had a really enjoyable walk, taking in the Gazebo, which included a stunning view and four dogs (plus all of us and the owners).

No rain, but it was a bit cooler. Not too cool for a Twister (etc) from the rather cute Munch Buggy, manned by a woman very much like our friend Bridget. There is a beautiful new wildflower garden (The Bower) near the top, and we also called in at the visitors’ centre cafe for a drink. Some people had food, but I didn’t. Obviously that was a waste of care. We walked back to the car a different way and encountered the jewellery-maker’s husband in the garden. Had a chat and then drove to Holt station, where there was a display of classic cars and some very dark clouds, which however failed to deposit rain.

Spent some time looking at the cars and trying unsuccessfully to work out the categories. We also had a look at a steam train and took some photographs of that, plus a movie. Afterwards we went into Holt town centre and had tea and cake at Byfords. It was suspiciously quiet.

After another good meal at the hotel and a woeful failure to sleep on my part, we took leave of the Towns and strolled round Blakeney in spitting rain until we met the Evetts and had lunch with them at Wiveton Fruit Farm. This consisted for me of a rather chunky coronation chicken sandwich and  ginger beer. After driving them back to the hotel to pick up their car, we set off for home.

Suns on website, clouds in sky

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David and Kristine Coomes during their recent visit. Dot is pointing out local landmarks from St James Hill. At least, I assume that’s what she’s doing.

England duly exited Euro 2012 by managing to stop Italy scoring for 120 minutes but then, as usual, losing on penalties. The guilty players on this occasion were b0th called Ashley, which should have been warning enough. Young hit the bar and Coles’ effort was saved comfortably. Last night Spain beat Portugal on penalties after another 0-0, with Portugal playing above themselves and Ronaldo doing the opposite: he didn’t even take a penalty (one assumes he was meant to go fifth, but it didn’t get that far).

We’ve had some warmer temperatures, but the BBC is having trouble coping, today their website has golden suns all over it for Norfolk, but it’s cloudy and looking as though the threatened “showery rain, sometimes heavy” might well materialise. Hopefully it’s a bit sunnier in London, where Dot and Anne are having fun (one assumes).

Spoke on Sunday about being people after God’s own heart and not worrying about superficial issues: seemed to be well received. Monday night’s PCC was genial and quick, with only Dot and I representing St Aug as usual.

The other major meeting this week was yesterday afternoon: the Paston Trustees. The four of us who made it (Rob was working in London) got through the agenda in about a couple of hours, which I suppose is not bad. Lucy is in one of her rare “quite well” phases, but Jo is looking ill and showing no sign of cutting down on her work: offered the chance of giving the Pensthorpe event a miss this year, she was determined to do it. However, she does want to step down from the not-very-onerous job of being chairperson, so I volunteered Rob in his absence and also offered to help with the newsletter. If Rob isn’t keen, I may get the chair as well.

I arrived early so Lucy took me up on to the roof to see her alpine garden. Impressive, as is the view, especially on a still and warm day. A few inches higher and they would be able to see the sea. Apparently.

 

Blakeney basks brilliantly

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An idyllic moment for Dot on the marshes

My pessimism about England’s football team has so far proved unjustified, but now they’ve reached the quarter-finals, the hype resumes and the players are vowing to put their lives on the line. No, thanks, it’s still just football. Good game, but not war. In further catch-up news the antibiotics haven’t exactly got rid of the tooth infection, but I’m still optimistic.

The weather hasn’t exactly been summery, except for Wednesday, when the sun came out, the temperature rose and we dropped everything and drove to Blakeney, which was basking brilliantly in the unexpected warmth. We had our usual scone and tea in the Blakeney Hotel lounge and followed up with a walk out on to the marshes. I am tempted to use the word idyllic: there, I have. On our return we bought some picture frames in a craft fair and then drove to Cookie’s, where we had a late lunch, followed by a short walk in the Cley nature reserve, where we saw a couple of marsh harriers, among other birds. We returned home in time for a visit from a surveyor who was looking at our house with a view to giving us free insulation. Unfortunately, as I predicted, the operation would have been too tricky and disruptive. End wall too close to neighbour, half of loft too inaccessible.

I completed Rupert Sheldrake’s book (The Science Delusion) in time to hear him speak at Mangreen on Monday evening in the company of Tim Mace and Judy Reynolds: Dot was occupied elsewhere, to her annoyance. The room was full, and Sheldrake spoke very well. Some of hiss ideas are extremely interesting, and it is hard to dispute his basic premise that science is a method of inquiry and not a belief system, though it tends to be portrayed as the latter. The title of his book is clearly designed to create sales by mirroring Dawkins’ The God Delusion, which may alienate some scientists, though Sheldrake himself is a distinguished scientist and does not attack science as such. Good evening, but it’s a pity that the questions, as usual at such events, were really excuses for the usual suspects to put forward their own philosophies instead of querying relevant points.

Another talk on Tuesday, this time by Bishop David Atkinson at the Norwich Christian Resources Centre. Much smaller audience – about 25-30 – and I attended with Tim: female members of the Tuesday Group were at Vicky’s talking about bags. Bishop Atkinson was promoting his new book on Healing in the Church, aiming for a much wider interpretation of healing, which he identified with the Hebrew idea of shalom: inner wellbeing and peace. He focused on the New Testament ideas of love casting out fear and truth setting you free. Here the questions were much more to the point. I bought the book afterwards, but I haven’t read it yet, though I am using one or two of his ideas in my sermon tomorrow!

On Thursday I was disturbed to learn on Facebook that Mark Tuma was heading for Lincoln, as he and his wife were due to come round for an evening meal. I texted him and received the reassuring reply that he fully intended to do both – and he did. Amazing what some people can fit into a day. I bought some rather nice stuff from the supermarket, and we had a good evening.

Dot has had a very busy week writing reports of one kind and another, as well as visiting various schools. On Friday she went for a meeting at Little Plumstead school, where she is going to be a governor. I saw the name of the current chair of governors and deduced that she was a former subs’ runner of mine called Jo Rokahr (now Quarterman). I told Dot to ask her if she played the bagpipes, and it turned out that she did – one of Jo’s more unusual talents. There was a certain amount of reminiscence. Also on the staff is a very nice member of St Luke’s Church who we sat next to at the last joint lunch. Dot also really rates the head teacher, so maybe her governorship could be a good move, though I’m trying to get her to cut down on her work.

She does “relax” sometimes, but when she does it can prove expensive. We are in the process of buying new curtains for the living room (I’m not even going to write down how much that will cost), and this will of course also involve repainting the room. Aargh. There is also going to be some work done in the garden in July. Happily our Devon holiday is now paid for, though there was a nasty moment after I transferred the money and couldn’t get in touch with the owners: their e-mails bounced back, and their phones went to voicemail. Could it be a scam? Well, I suppose it could have been, but it wasn’t. I eventually found a different e-mail address that worked, and all is well. Especially as I’ve now written a tune for Far Cry, my latest song.

In search of a pirate ship

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Amy hands the crabbing net to her assistant during our visit to Sheringham earlier in the month

Four years ago I was coming out of hospital after my radical prostatectomy operation and feeling very fragile. I would like to say I’m now fighting fit, and indeed a blood test showed last week that there is no sign of the cancer re-emerging. A further test also revealed that my blood pressure has fallen dramatically to 140/75, which is not far off normal. So of course I have to keep taking the pills. But  I’m also taking antibiotics at the moment , following root canal work last Tuesday. That seemed to go OK, but the infection still appears to be there; so I thought I’d give the pills a go. Not sure if that was the right decision. What can you do?

Just back from a foray into the city to pay in some cheques and cash for the church. This morning’s rain has gone, and the temperature definitely rose between my leaving the house and getting back again. So perhaps we’re due for another dash of summer. Ran into Sophie, who is resplendently pregnant and looking wonderful, and then the Eagles, who were looking pretty good too and searching for a pirate ship birthday cake. Well, you never know when you’re going to run into one. In fact, I see form the website that M&S sell them, but as I don’t have the Eagles’ mobile number I can’t let them know.

Yesterday we went straight from church to North Walsham, taking in Sainsbury’s, the cemetery and Jessie, in that order. We ate our sandwich lunch in Jessie’s summerhouse with her tea and cakes, which was extremely pleasant, then on the way home we put some flowers on my parents’ grave at the Rosary. Earlier in the week (Monday) I had visited my aunt Josephine, who was on quite good form but looking a little frailer than before Joyce died. On the subject of death, Pete S rang me after I e-mailed him following Jan’s death, and we had a chat.

It was a busy week for Dot, who stayed overnight at The Old Bell at Grimston on Wednesday before inspecting the village school at Ashwicken. B&B highly recommended. She also had various other schools to visit during the week and has just returned from one at Bradwell. Meanwhile England are still in Euro 2012, having beaten Sweden unexpectedly 3-2 and drawing 1-1 with France. Of course when they lose to Ukraine tomorrow, they will still have to go home. In other news, wrote a new song called Far Cry. Quite pleased with it.