Tag Archives: beechwood

Hockey near Otterspool

And here we are in Caddington. Amy is programming something on Google, Oliver is on Facetime from Aylesbury and Dot is cooking fajitas. I have just finished a John Le Carre book, which ended up in a predictably depressing way that I guess is realistic as far as the Congo is concerned. I picked it up at Edingthorpe Church while showing Dave and Julia one of the Paston walks.

We drove down here yesterday, stopping off to see Aunt Ethel on the way. She was healthy enough but a bit concerned that she and John were being asked to take on the running of the home following their arranged marriage. Interesting idea.

We arrived in plenty of time to have a bite to eat and then drive down to Aldenham to watch Amy playing hockey at Edge Grove School. We met Emma and had a chat, than after the game – in which Amy looked pretty good to me – all the parents / grandparents were invited for  a match tea: sandwiches, cakelets and hot drinks. Very civilised.

On the way home we drove in to neighbouring Wall Hall College, which is now private roads and pricey dwellings for the super-rich. Once back on the M1 we could catch a glimpse of Otterspool, which I understand has suffered much the same fate.

We got home to Caddington around 4.45pm, and Dot cooked chicken chasseur with pasta. Then, following a plan we had only just found out about, I drove to the Travellers’ Rest at Edlesborough to meet Vicky (and Oliver) and take delivery of various bags of clothing and other items. By now it was raining hard as forecast, but this had dispersed by the time we woke up this morning, shortly before 7am.

We were more or less spectators as Amy got herself breakfast, and we left around 7.40pm. Despite being held up by a rear-end shunt (not us), a traffic jam on the A505 and a bin lorry in the narrow streets of Markyate, we made it to school in good time, and Amy disappeared in search of her school shoes which she – in common, it turned out, with several other girls – had left behind when setting off for her hockey match the day before. These duly turned up, but she is now minus a sock.

We turned up early to meet Amy out of school, and the journey both out and in was uneventful. Grace popped round for a bit, then Amy went to hers, then Grace came back … and eventually was fetched by her father. Amy had a bath and we watched some catch-up TV on Dot’s laptop; then had an early night. Earlier in the day we had visited Sainsburys and spoke to a woman who had to get up at 5am to get her granddaughter to school. Going a bit far, in several ways.

Before our journey south, on Monday we were given a lift by the Archers to Judy’s for our occasional cake and compline. In a later e-mail David A said he had felt “below par” and thought I was too. I didn’t know that.

Hot day at Beechwood

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.