Tag Archives: bank

Straightening out

P1110289

Very soggy indeed outside: the whole month has been pretty wet, and I suspect our forthcoming weekend at Buxton may feature some quite muddy walking. Still, you never know.

I’ve been straightening out the office, which is quite satisfying. I am still treasurer of the church, but I’m not sure how long that will go on. Howard is trying to open a new account, as far as I know. He preached on the financial situation on Sunday and did it quite well, though I always feel uneasy about that sort of thing.

I’ve been in touch with Andrew’s care worker, Elaine, who seemed quite surprised about his funding situation. Apparently no-one had told her; so I’m not sure what the finance department of Coventry City Council is up to. She is now trying to get some sense out of them. Best of luck to her.

Ethel, her friend John and Dot's new top feature in the cake-cutting
Ethel, her friend John and Dot’s new top feature in the cake-cutting

It poured with rain for Ethel’s 90th birthday party on Sunday. It took place at her care home in Welborne and was attended by the usual suspects: Angela, Rodney, Vicki and Graham; Roger and Rosie; Tally’s daughter-in-law Ann and her son Rob, who is a carpenter. I remember this because she told me several times. Dot had arranged for Marion to make a sponge cake – beautiful as always – and a fruit cake appeared from elsewhere. A jolly time was had by all.

The Paston exhibition has come to an end after three months. Dot managed to get Anne there on the last day, but the story goes on. Yesterday Rob and I visited the UEA for a talk with Dr Karen Smyth about her new project on the Pastons, which will start small and get a a lot of input from us but eventually build up to a digital heritage monster that could attract as much as £1 million in grant or research money.

The good news is that the work we do for it in the initial stages (and possibly later on as well) will be paid for; so maybe all that voluntary work we’ve done over the years will eventually reap its reward. Other than the reward implicit in doing it, of course.

Following that meeting, Caroline joined us for a Chronicle meeting and lunch – prepared by Dot despite the fact that the school she’s governor of is in the midst of Ofsted. She left later to be interviewed by the inspector. We had a good meeting: I sang my song, and Caroline read her poems, and we planned a way forward. I am going to work on a structure for the new performance (based on Oxnead), and Rob is going to try to get the owners of the Hall interested enough to host it.

We have managed to visit the cinema three Mondays in a row, which is amazingly consistent for us. Following Hobbit 2 and Gravity, we went to see American Hustle, which was excellent in many ways, but still not quite as good as the other two. The fact that it’s based on a true story possibly made it a little less neat than it might have been. As Tom Clancy says, the difference between fact and fiction is that fiction has to make sense.

Tuesday Group was at the Archers this week, and I had a carload, taking Judy, Ian and Harriet through pouring rain (Dot was preparing for Ofsted). We are considering dropping TG for a while and inviting different people round as part of a new church project. But we want to keep seeing David and Bridget and Vicky, who no longer attend St Augustine’s, so we’ll probably invite them too. Anyway, we’re still thinking about it.

My tanka book with Joy McCall has just been published, and I’m picking up some copies later. It’s on Amazon, but with the disturbing note that it’s not available, and they don’t know when it will be. I hope someone sorts that out. Not me, obviously.

Problems with paperwork

A rare picture of my cousin Adrian, now sadly dead, at 67 Brian Avenue with Dot, Mum and an early version of David
A rare picture of my cousin Adrian, now sadly dead, at 67 Brian Avenue with Dot, Mum and an early version of David

After reaching the summit of the travel insurance mountain, I collapsed on the church account ridge. After attempting to complete the first form yesterday – only to find it was mainly irrelevant and unanswerable – I felt blood rushing around my brain and decided to resign as treasurer. I sent an e-mail to Nicholas and Howard. I also wrote a letter to NatWest, heavily critical of their approach to getting new customers.

Later in the day I got an e-mail from Howard, asking to come round and talk to me at teatime. He eventually arrived about an hour late, after being held up in a traffic jam, and we discussed his holiday in Burma, plus a little bit about the problems I’d had with banks. It turns out he’s had similar problems, but he offered to go to TSB, where he knew someone, and see if anything could be done more simply.

This morning he rang to say that he thought they could sort it out. Apparently he had opened the account in the first place and was able to discuss the whole thing on a different basis. I should have got him involved earlier.

To celebrate, I managed to complete the Gift Aid claim form which, in an act of  monumental stupidity, the tax people provide only in a download format that will not open on a Mac.  I mean, what’s wrong with Excel? I can only conclude that financial people go out of their way to drive you insane.

So I had to download additional software. My first attempt wouldn’t open either because it didn’t have the right certificate and I needed a later version (chance would be a fine thing). So I ended up with something called Libre, which did work. Then the form was so unclear that I had three attempts at filling it in before it accepted what I’d entered.

I haven’t decided yet whether to go through with my resignation as treasurer. I would certainly like to. The St Luke’s treasurer, who is new, is down with pneumonia, so the year-end accounts should be interesting.

Yesterday I also missed my second funeral in the space of a week when a slight hiccup occurred in Dot’s invitation to Richard to come round  for lunch. When I told her that the funeral (for John Care) was at 1pm she texted Richard to tell him to come earlier, but although he received it, he didn’t read it; and so turned up at 12. Judging that the living were more important than the dead (a tricky call) we had lunch and a long discussion with Richard, and I wrote an apologetic letter to Jonathan.

I did however manage to get to Surrey Chapel this afternoon for a thanksgiving service for John Tillett, the church organist and the man who helped us get football started at Surrey by finding us a pitch at Eaton Park. Also a lovely man – one of those people who was kind and generous to everyone. The church was packed, and I met Phil outside and sat with him. I said hello to a few people, but I knew very few really, and I left Phil chatting in the end.

Dot is now at a governors’ meeting. We missed supper, because she got heavily involved with a North Walsham history page on Facebook and started recognising people she knew. It got a bit out of control after that.

Blood pressure rising

New bike successfully purchased – officially for Oliver's birthday tomorrow, but he seems to have got wind of it...
New bike successfully purchased – officially for Oliver’s birthday tomorrow, but he seems to have got wind of it…

Another long gap, which might seem to reflect how busy I am or, possibly, how little is happening in my life. Reader, it is the former.

Dot returned safely from a successful philosophy session in Middlesbrough, and is now in Hethersett, sorting and packing on her aunt’s behalf with Angela, because the bungalow has to be vacated very soon. She will probably be there all day, as she was last Wednesday. It’s amazing how long it takes to empty a house, even a small one.

Over the past week I have successfully navigated a DCC meeting; transporting Phil and Joy to the doctor’s; an uplifting visit to the dentist (no pain, nothing wrong); and (yesterday) a meeting at the Norfolk Record Office about the Paston exhibition, which starts next month. The latter was followed swiftly by a gathering of  Chronicle at our house, accompanied by a lunch lovingly prepared by Dot. We made plans for the CD, for a performance at the NRO and Cromer, and for more writing, with Oxnead as a focus.

In the evening I played what will probably be my last chess game for some time, losing to Martin Woolnough in the club knockout tournament, which I have got knocked out of on an annual basis for many years. Not a bad game, but for some reason a bit of a relief. Don’t know why, because I love the game, and I have friends at the club.

I have been feeling a bit down for the last few days – at times extremely down, which is unusual for me. It followed a visit to the bank (Santander) by Dot and myself to try to sort out our accounts following the bank’s decision to reorganise their system. I got so angry by all the complications, tie-ins, requirements and so on that I left without doing anything and told the guy what he was saying was rubbish and very annoying. He didn’t seem to agree.

I think I got depressed because this came on top of a number of other things that I haven’t been able to sort out – seats for the flights to Florida and Andrew’s money being prominent among them. I can actually feel my blood pressure rising.

The car’s air-conditioning is another thing. I took it in for diagnosis on Thursday, and the mechanic, who was very helpful and taught me a lot about air-conditioning by actual demonstration, decided that it needed a new compressor and some replacement seals. These are on order, which means the air-conditioning will have cost me over £1000 by the time it’s done, and there’s not even a guarantee that it will work properly when it’s finished. Meanwhile, Dot’s car is making alarming noises.

On the bright side, we had a very pleasant evening on Thursday with the Eagles and Bob and Felix from next door (Mary was meant to come, but she was ill). And on Saturday the Higbees came round for a lovely lunch, which stretched into late afternoon. It’s nice to have friends.

The weather is looking extremely autumnal, with plenty of rain today. The gorillas have gone, but not before I completed the trail on Saturday morning, the last one being hidden in the Roman Catholic Cathedral. This narrowly failed to win the prize for hardest to find, however. That was in Jarrolds’ basement.