Tag Archives: anne

Idyllic walk out to the Bure and St Benet’s

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Sunset near South Walsham.
Sunset near South Walsham.

Strangely, the eye test turned out to be nearly as traumatic, though not as painful. Everything seemed OK, and the ophthalmologist said my eyes were healthy, but then he noticed  something at the top of my left eye, which he wondered about. He thought it could be a problem with the retina. On one hand he said it was probably nothing, and he was just being cautious, but on the other he said that if I got a shadow in my eye I should rush to A&E, in case my retina had become detached, which could blind me in that eye. Yippee.

I also needed two new pairs of glasses, in which I was assisted by a very nice girl called Becky, who was a trainee but very thorough and determined to get everything right. I eventually chose two new frames and ordered them. They will be ready next week. I also have a hospital appointment to look at my eye. This is on December 31, which may or may not be a good idea, but the next option was well into January. Needless to say I have had funny feelings in my eye since then, but I’m sure they’re just psychosomatic.

Back at the dentist, this morning’s session was even worse than the first one, and when Allison asked me when I wanted to come back, I said: “Never.” The procedure was pretty painful, and the idea of using three different toothbrushes to clean my teeth is pretty unrealistic. The hygienist is a fanatic: I think I shall go back to Ross for the check-up in three months’ time. Or four. Or five. Or eighteen.

The next day (Wednesday) I had my hair cut, which was totally painless.

Thursday was Dot’s day in London with Anne, and they had a great time, particularly the afternoon tea at the Bloomsbury Hotel. I surprised myself by going for a walk, starting at South Walsham staithe and walking along the bank of the dyke out to the Bure, opposite St Benet’s Abbey. I got some really good pictures and in many ways it was idyllic: not too cold, very still and the light fading, with mist over the marshes. I didn’t pass anyone after I left the metalled road. The only problem was that the path was very muddy – I couldn’t make up my mind whether it was a result of the damp weather we’d been having (and are still having) or if the recent hight tides had overtopped the bank. Still wonderful, though.

On Saturday I went out to Mundesley for the second writing workshop, which was good again, and then met Dot at North Walsham rail station, taking her to Jessie’s, where we had a cup of tea before going to the Banningham Crown for an evening meal. This was another very good meal. I had a steak and ale pie, which was probably a mistake in terms of getting a decent night’s sleep, but it tasted good. Also there were Roger and his girlfriend Debbie, who is very easy to talk to. The service was again excellent.

Sunday turned out to be very sporty. Dot and I watched the Davis Cup final, in which Murray won the decisive match, accompanied by extremely noisy spectators, and then we watched the Norwich v Arsenal match on Sky, courtesy of NOW TV. Good game too. The result was 1-1, and City could easily have won. After supper, or possibly during it, we then watched the highlights of the final F1 race of the season.

Last man standing in poetry marathon

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A chilly and wet day today: a foretaste of autumn. But most days are still warm and summery; so we can’t complain. Yesterday afternoon we had drinks in the garden with Anne, who departs for a Mediterranean cruise on Thursday, hoping not to be confused with Libyan migrants. In the evening Dot and I went to the cinema and saw Trainwreck in the company of a largely young and female audience. We guessed we were not the target market, but it was nevertheless a very funny and rewarding film, with some wonderful dialogue.

Earlier in the day we extracted a large amount of bedding, mainly in the form of duvets and pillows, from the loft, spruced it all up a bit and took it to the Jubilee Hall (next to St Luke’s on Aylsham Road) for the benefit of some Congolese people who are gathering there in preparation for the funeral of two cousins who drowned in Thorpe Marshes nature reserve. The boy, aged 11 was called Bonheur and lived in The Lathes. The church gave his family £200 on Sunday toward expenses surrounding the funeral.

Later on Sunday Dot and I went to Walpole Old Chapel, near Halesworth, for the annual poetry reading. It was almost too well attended, because the reading started at 5pm and didn’t finish till well after 8.30pm. I was scheduled to read last, which – viewed in pop music terms – has to be good. It was a bit of a marathon, though, despite the half-time drinks and cake, and by the time I got to read it was not only extremely chilly but also nearly dark. There was only one light in the chapel. Still, we hung in there, despite the counter-attraction of a bird that got in and couldn’t get out, and I got a pretty enthusiastic  reception. They even laughed at my jokes. I read three newish poems: After Sun, A Train Approaches and Proof of Heaven.

Elliott makes himself at home in the garden
Elliott makes himself at home in the garden

Proceeding backwards, on Saturday Sam and Lucy came round with Elliott, and went into the garden, where Elliott had a great time pulling flowers apart and transferring stones into places they shouldn’t be. Dot got out David’s old train set and a tractor, both of which Elliott played with and then departed with. Meanwhile Norwich City scored their first win in the Premiership, beating Sunderland 3-1 away.

Earlier last week the main event was the arrival of Adrian and Clarissa by boat on Wednesday. We had a call from them while Dot and I were at Jessie’s in North Walsham. I was on my way to a Paston assignation, but Dot was on her way home after visiting Peter at Cromer for some p4c film editing. Dot dropped in on Adrian after she got back – as did Roger, who also been at North Walsham – and I completed the party when I arrived back from the Paston event. Good to see them: they had Menna’s three girls with them – Maddy, Olivia and Isabel. All delightful, especially Maddy, the oldest.

The following morning they came up for coffee and biscuits before departing for the city as Dot left for the dentist. They had a packed programme. In the last two days they had to get the boat back to Potter Heigham, via Breydon Water, visit Yarmouth (don’t ask me why) and call in on Jessie.

The Paston event mentioned consisted of an informal trustees’ meeting with food (mackerel pate) in the rather chilly garden of the Ship Inn at Mundesley, followed by tea and coffee at Lucy’s. She is not too good, since her last-ditch cancer treatment provoked an allergic reaction. It is hard to say how bad she is, because she always seems to come back strongly, but she didn’t feel well enough to proceed with Rob, Peter and myself to Bacton village hall, where we met the Bacton Historical Society with a view to their helping us in our NHL bid. We got an encouraging reception, and enjoyed a 40 min tape of Bacton people reminiscing about previous times. It was much more interesting than it sounds.

Resisting the abyss

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Amy, David and Oliver, catch some of the light at the Hendersons' house
Amy, David and Oliver catch some of the light at the Hendersons’ house

The days ticked by, and eventually I got to go to the dentist with my broken back tooth. By the time I got there, it felt perfectly natural to have a broken tooth, but Ross quickly (and for only £130) sorted out the problem, cementing the broken chunk back into place. As there was not nerve in the tooth, it didn’t hurt.  Great idea: teeth without nerves.

To accomplish this, I had to get to the dentist’s at 8.45am – a time I had forgotten existed. I had to plough my way through a whole bunch of commuters and schoolchildren. Afterwards I recycled some Christmas cards, courtesy of M&S, then popped down to the bank to pay in a cheque. This took longer than expected, because on this one day of the week the bank opened at 9.45am. I browsed a bit in Jarrolds, then chatted to a couple of people who were also waiting, and a chirpy little mortgage adviser who wasn’t due to start till 10am but had turned up anyway. I was first in, first out. On the way home I paid the newspaper bill.

While Dot was in town supping coffee with Anne, our friend D from church came round to borrow £10. He had to go to Diss to try to get a job, but couldn’t afford the fare. In the evening Dot and I had a meal at the Bicycle Shop café in St Benedict’s with a couple of sickly Greens. The tapas were excellent, as was the wine and the ambience, and we took a look at the room where we’re planning to do some Julian music later in the year. Not entirely sure about its suitability, but we’ll see.

Anna was getting better, and Howard was getting worse. I myself am feeling decidedly below par and slightly achy but hope I can resist plunging into the abyss, especially as I’ve just written a sermon for Sunday. Was perked up somewhat by sorting out the Apple TV with David’s guidance. It is now functioning well on all cylinders.

Yesterday was a beautiful crisp and sunny day (unlike today, which is gloomy) and we drove out to visit Rosie, who claimed to have a bad cold, but it was undetectable to normal senses, or at least ours. She was chirpy and made us tea and provided us succour in the shape of a touch of brandy and some Christmas cake. Very pleasant visit: we resolved to go more often and to keep in closer touch with people this year.

Having the Bishop of Norwich for lunch

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Dot, David and Chrissy on the boundary at Beechwood while Oliver played cricket
Dot, David and Chrissy on the boundary at Beechwood while Oliver played cricket

With rain promised for the rest of the week, Dot and I felt we had to take advantage of today’s sunshine and warmth; so after lunch we headed for North-East Norfolk. Once clear of the tourist hub of Wroxham we headed for the hamlet of Briggate, where we parked adjacent to Weavers’ Way. From there we walked across fields to Worstead and back – a round trip of about four miles. Quite pleasant.

We are now home and preparing to have two friends from church round for a meal as part of our “have two friends from church for a meal” project. Well, not exactly, but the church as a whole is trying to get to know each other better, though I suspect our congregation already knows each other better than most church congregations.

Yesterday we had the Bishop of Norwich for lunch. I suppose that could have been better phrased, but I sort of like it. It was basically a joint service at St Luke’s, at which Dot and I assisted with the music (Phil was a late withdrawal). Six hymns (three completely new to us) with Steve on lead guitar and Angela on keyboards. Also Dot and I (with help from Steve) did a couple of my songs during communion.

The Bishop did an excellent sermon and was even better on answering questions afterwards. We had a bring-and-share lunch that was more than adequate, and then those who were left (the Bishop having departed with Nicholas) had a shot at an exercise designed to reveal who was interested in doing what after Nicholas left for America. I suspect that “reveal”is not quite the word.

Working backwards, on Saturday we celebrated Anne’s birthday belatedly with an excellent meal at the King’s Head in Brooke. I had fishcake with egg, duck breast and a lovely dessert consisting of Malibu brûlée and mango sorbet. Very moreish.

Julia and Allan came for an evening meal with us on Friday. Dot did her latest lamb dish, which is delicious, and we had a made-up starter involving those little salmon thingies, grapes and toast, with strawberries dipped in chocolate to finish. Then we imposed our holiday pictures on them, but they didn’t seem to mind too much.  Earlier in the day I had been rushing up to the bank in Magdalen Street to find out why a church cheque had bounced (they had neglected to amalgamate our two accounts as promised) before heading to the market to buy the strawberries.

Which brings us logically to last Thursday. In the morning I went by bus to the Norfolk and Norwich Hospital for a chest x-ray, which must have taken all of 15 minutes maximum (including waiting time), and in the evening we attended the Assembly House for a piano concert by Evelyne Berezovsky as part of the Norfolk and Norwich Festival. She was hot, and so was the Music Room. I had to rip off my jumper during a break between pieces, and other customers were also wilting.

Still, it is always worth visiting the Assembly House, because the toilets are first-class. When I say Evelyne Berezovsky was hot, I mean of course that she was a stunningly good pianist. I hope that’s clear.

Houghton Hall visited

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Anna and Dot leave Skyscape at Houghton Hall
Anna and Dot leave Skyscape in the grounds of Houghton Hall

The weather continues warm, but the dryness isn’t what it was. In fact, sometimes the dryness is wet – as yesterday, when after having our hair cut we stayed indoors most of the day and moped, especially after Norwich City FC, replete with new stars, managed to lose 1-0 to Hull after Hull had been reduced to ten men for two-thirds of the match. Nevertheless, we have tickets for Tuesday’s game against Bury, captained by Dot’s cousin Gareth. Adrian and Clarissa are coming over.

It had poured during Friday night, and it even rained a bit when we took Anna on Thursday to Houghton Hall Revisited: a major Norfolk event of the year, running for several months. The idea is to show off pictures sold by Britain’s first prime minister and Houghton Hall owner Sir Robert Walpole to Catherine the Great in the 18th century – now lent back to the hall by Russia and replaced (mainly) where they originally hung.

Houghton Hall is a beautiful building in a stunning setting, but while some of the pictures were impressive, many of them weren’t. However, we really enjoyed the visit – a brief account of which can be found here.

Dot had spent the day in London on Wednesday, accompanied by her friend Anne. They travelled first class and ate in two rather nice restaurants. Dot also bought a hat for an upcoming family wedding. Meanwhile I frittered away much of the time but did manage to get some work done, largely my sermon for today.

On Friday, after Dot had managed to get an appointment at the doctor’s for a few routine matters, we eventually entertained Joe and Birgit to lunch. They both seemed on good form, with Birgit looking much better than recent reports had suggested. She looked very good indeed, in fact, and we had a lovely evening – some of it out in the garden.

Kingsize duvet and epiphanies

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Maryta, Amy and the Henderson dog

Yes, we made it into a new year. Oliver and Amy survived well, right up to midnight, with the help of various games and quizzes. I felt surprisingly coherent the next morning, and we were all up and about when Paul and Maryta Henderson arrived not long after 11am, staying for a light lunch of salmon and new potatoes before heading to darkest Suffolk and leaving Paul’s glasses behind.

David and the children left at about the same time, heading in their case for the M1, where Vicky was meeting them to transfer the children and take  them to Nottingham. We tracked David’s car on a convenient App. The house seemed very quiet when we had cleared up.

During the next two days we were recovering, and in my case working on the church accounts and returning Paul’s glasses to him, which prompted a phone call from him praising our grandchildren, which is only right; eventually the weather changed, becoming dry. I was developing a rather sore growth on my eye – or to be more accurate, the small growth on my eye had become sore, probably because I had damaged it while rubbing my eyes.

On Friday I went to the dentist and got a clean bill of health as far as my teeth were concerned. I then popped in to John Lewis’s, where Dot and Anne were having tea and scones. Dot and I then ordered a kingsize duvet because she hasn’t been sleeping too well and suspects duvet slippage. This of course also involved new pillowslips and duvet cover. These we took away with us, but the duvet cover had to be ordered online and delivered to the shop. We ordered it online at home and picked it up yesterday afternoon before going for a healthy walk around Whitlingham Broad. One way or another, Dot was determined to get a good night’s sleep – and did.

Between the scones and the duvet on Friday Dot and I ran into Rita, of Al and Rita fame, who we hadn’t seen for years. Unsurprisingly, they have just been converting a barn, but it will probably be their last one. She was in fine form.

Today I preached again at church – this time on epiphany and epiphanies – with Liz Day leading. All went well until Judy noticed that the collection box was missing. We could only assume that a man who had been loitering in the doorway had snatched it while we were praying. Nicholas wanted me to tell the police, but instead I put a notice on Streetlife (a local online site) and warned Carrie that there might be a thief about.

Dot and Barbara left for Dudley just before 3.30pm, and as I write are in the Birmingham area. I walked up to the church to make a thorough search, but without success. I then called in to see Phil and Joy and return Joy’s glove, which we found in our car. (We had found the other one a couple of weeks ago, but this one suddenly materialised.) I used Walkmeter to measure my walk, and the other App to track Dot and Barbara. Isn’t technology wonderful? Until someone starts tracking me, of course.

The sore growth on my eye seemed to crack in the night and spill blood. It’s much better now. Don’t read that last bit if you’re squeamish, like Dot.

Amy scoots into her ninth year

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Amy enjoying her new scooter

My granddaughter is now a year older. It happened suddenly, last Saturday, and fortunately we were on hand to help her celebrate her eighth birthday. We arrived on the Friday night, driving through pouring rain all the way, with almost ground-level  clouds. In the morning I went with David and the children to the swimming pool in Dunstable, where Oliver and Amy had their lessons. Meanwhile, Dot stayed at home and iced the chocolate cake made by David the previous night.

We gave Amy a scooter with lots of street cred, which went down very well, even when she fell off it while executing a tight turn. The children have friends in the street, and they came out to play, so that was good: Thomas and Grace, I think. Not related. After a party lunch prepared by David we played Dixit, a remarkable game  that he’d bought her which involved making up a line of a story to match cards, and then guessing the card. Actually it made a lot more sense than that. Later in the afternoon, Vicky, accompanied by Saskia(?), came to pick up the children, and we left soon afterwards, arriving back in Norwich earlier than we’d expected.

At church on Sunday I “launched” my new worship songs booklet, simply by using it for one of the hymn slots. Seemed to work all right. Howard gave a very Howard sermon, including animal noises, on how OT people might have reacted to Isaiah. In the evening Dot and I went for a meal at Anne and Philip’s in the company of Bernadette and Barry Hutchings, who live in Alpington. Touch of nostalgia there – very enjoyable, though I wasn’t feeling great, a theme which repeated all through the next few days. I took some out-of-date antibiotics, but that seemed to make things worse; so I’ve stopped. The right thing to do, I feel.

Yesterday was the final rehearsal for our Chronicle performance at Mannington Hall, complete with hats. Everyone agreed that mine suited me very well, which is a bit worrying. The hats came courtesy of Rob’s wife Penny, who is a seamstress of some repute, and we rehearsed at Rob’s house, with his grandchildren providing noises off. In the evening, with our vegetarian Bridget away with her husband, I cooked chilli con carne for the Tuesday Group, and I have to say it tasted pretty good. Well, I don’t have to, but I will.

Now I am waiting for the arrival of David, Oliver and Amy. The children will be staying with us for three days, and I am told we have to visit the Iceni village at Cockley Cley, because Amy is doing a project on Boudicca. I feel Amy would make a good Boudicca.

High quality exhibition

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Flooding on Carey's Meadow at the bottom of Harvey Lane, where I went for a walk a couple of days ago

I’ve been feeling a bit rough this past week, off and on. Not sure if it’s the antibiotics or an infection. Yesterday was bad; today is a bit better. I’m seeing the doctor this afternoon on what I believe is known as an unrelated matter – results of recent blood test – so I will mention it to him. Meanwhile Dot’s back is not much better, and she is seeing the chiropractor tomorrow. We’re going to Derbyshire the weekend after next, and it would be nice if she was fit enough to walk in the hills. It would be nice if I was too.

On Sunday after church we went to a big exhibition by Martin Laurance at Mandell’s Gallery in Elm Hill. As expected, very high quality, but nothing actually screamed “Buy me” at us. Even if it had, we probably wouldn’t have been able to afford it. Many of the usual crowd were there: Annette, Mike, Teri, Caroline, Hilary Mellon among others. Had a quick chat with Martin too. Very pleasant hour: we parked in the Monastery car park, which I think was full of exhibition-goers’ cars. It’s normally empty on a Sunday. We only drove there because we had to go somewhere else first (he hastened to add).

Yesterday Dot had lunch with Anne and was in the city till late afternoon. Much of the time she spent at the exhibition I went to last week. I meanwhile was stocking up at the supermarket in preparation for a large Tuesday Group: 12, if you count month-old George. Just about capacity, I think. We started watching The Nativity, but TM only managed about three minutes, saying it was too Anglicised. Not sure what that meant. He started trying to explain afterwards, but his argument was rather weakened by his only having seen about three minutes of it.

Today Barbara is here, working with Dot on their Philosophy4Children days at Dudley next month. I spoke to Maryta on the phone and discovered she had to cancel her holiday because of her back, which is still far from good. She finds any kind of travel by car difficult; needless to say, she’s still going in to work, mainly by rail. At least there’s no snow to stop her: it’s turned colder again, but blue sky the last couple of days.

OK, I’ve been to the doctor now, and he was ecstatic about my blood. I don’t think  he’s a vampire: it was more that the PSA level was about as low as it can be, which is very good news. He also gave me some stronger antibiotics for the urinary tract infection, and I’ve going to have a something-oscopy to see if my bowel is OK – mainly because I still have this tight, heavy feeling in my lower abdomen. We both think it’s scar tissue, but he wants to be sure. Sorry if that’s too much information.

We’ve just heard that Rosemary has gone into hospital for tests after having severe vomiting. OK, enough information.

I’ve just read Natural Mechanical, by J O Morgan, which I got for Christmas. It’s an extended poem about a lad from Skye who is a kind of naive genius at living off nature, but also brilliant with anything mechanical. Beautifully written, with elements of Dylan Thomas but also very distinctively different. I heard the author read at Aldeburgh and was much taken by it: the book sold out at the festival shop almost immediately, so others must have been taken by it too. Some lovely touches.

7 March 2009

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This is a picture received from Howard Morgan in New Zealand, or possibly Australia. It has my grandmother (centre) with her son Ken (lounging behind) and Ken’s wife Eve (next to mother-in-law). The others are a bit of a mystery, because they don’t look much like my uncles, though there is a theory that the man at the right in the foreground could be my father. If so, where is my mother? And what beach is it? Note the beach gear, de rigeur for the 1940s. Howard’s father Frank stayed with my grandparents in Caistor Lane shortly after the war. He had been a PoW, and they looked after him for a while. Today I saw my aunt Kathleen, who apparently took him under her wing, going with him to the beach and cycling with him to Whitlingham. She remembers him and kept Howard’s e-mails, though she didn’t want the pictures. She seems in rude health, apart from arthritis in the legs and back. I arrived back before Dot, who had been enjoying a late lunch with her friend Anne.

I have finished compiling and illustrating a new story for Oliver, entitled Little and the Dark Machine. I wrote it quite a long time ago, but it is not one of the ones that was published in the EDP. I think it’s quite good, he said modestly. Better than the last one, anyway. Speaking of the EDP, yesterday it was announced that about a third of editorial jobs in Archant Norfolk were going – that’s over 50. Life may continue, but not as we know it. It will be interesting to see how bad the EDP becomes, and how quickly.

Since my last post we’ve had a surprisingly excellent meal at the Castle Carvery in Bowthorpe, paid for by one of our friends at church who felt we needed it and saw a promotional deal offered in the paper. She also supplies us with cooking apples, so we shouldn’t starve, whatever happens. We’ve also got a new financial adviser, who I brought in to explain an incoherent document from the people with whom I have life insurance on Dot. I’m not really sure why I have it. The new guy offered to take leaflets about Dot’s business to his clients who were in schools, so it might be a good idea if we organised the leaflets.

I saw my consultant yesterday, who told me my blood was “perfect”, which means the operation successfully removed my cancer. At least I assume that’s what he meant, rather than that I had produced blood that was the best ever seen. However, I am due to have tests to see if my bladder is working properly, because I still have this extremely odd sensation… which it’s probably best we don’t go into.

And I’ve won another game of chess – another quite good game as a guest on Board Two for the C team at Wymondham. Unfortunately we lost 2.5-1.5 and the team will probably be relegated, as will Norwich City if they carry on the way they’re going. Another loss today, and no room for manouevre.