Tag Archives: chess

A few diversions

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David and Kristine in the Lebanese restaurant.
David and Kristine in the Lebanese restaurant.

A warm and dry day at the moment, though we’ve had plenty of rain in the last few days. The worst was on Wednesday, when Dot went down to see Barbara in her newly re-tyred car. Unfortunately, when she backed out from the parking space at Metfield she collided with a metal plate on the fence which managed to drag out the front of the car and deposit it on the ground. We then managed to do all the wrong things in the wrong order, with the result that the car is now in our drive awaiting a visit from someone representing the underwriters, who is resolutely failing to give us a time of arrival.

First Dot rang Green Flag, who came and fixed up the car so that it could be driven home. Unfortunately the GF man also suggested she ring the insurance company, and while she was doing this it got extremely complicated. She didn’t want to take pictures, because it now didn’t look bad, and she forgot to mention that the GF man had come. To cut a long story short, the insurance company sent a very nice man from down the road who transported the car to our driveway.

Meanwhile I had driven down to Metfield and back for no good reason (I thought the car might be taken to a local garage, which would have left Dot stranded). Because we were then away for two days, the underwriters’ man couldn’t contact us (despite Dot saying specifically that he should ring her mobile number) and he is still proving reluctant to actually speak to us. No doubt he fancies a long weekend away.

All very annoying. At least most of the rain happened while Dot was in the house.

On Thursday we headed for Leyton and a couple of days with the Coomes. We were delayed slightly because Dot had left her computer charger cable and plug at Barbara’s, and Barbara had hung it in a bag on her door for us to pick up. This added both time and distance to our journey, and the bit on the A140 was particularly slow: I always hated that road, and it has, unbelievably, got worse. The rest of the journey down the A12 wasn’t too bad, fortunately, and we arrived at Leyton around 1.15pm.

After a leisurely lunch we decided it was too late to go anywhere before the journey to Bond Street for our evening meal at a Lebanese restaurant called Fairuz. The tube was packed (Coomes said this was strange for a Sunday: I’m worried about him), and it started to rain as we emerged – fortunately only lightly. The meal was excellent, as was the wine. By the time we got home I could hardly keep my eyes open.

Yesterday it was dry and we went to William Morris’s house in Walthamstow. I drove, which was more of a challenge that I thought it would be. London is thick with buses, and there are so many markings and signs that it is hard to keep a lookout for pedestrians. But we eventually made it, and Dot spotted a car park. The house is beautifully organised as a museum, with interesting displays, and it’s not too big. We ended with a cup of tea in the cafe, during which I got a phone call from Minster Lodge to say that Andrew had been taken into hospital again after behaving bizarrely.

I rang the hospital today and even spoke to Andrew, who didn’t seem too bad at first but then became rather agitated. The nurse said he had seen Andrew like this before. Haven’t we all?

Two other noteworthy events last week. On Monday I lost a chess game to John Allison in the Dons knockout competition. I got a very good game and with one move I could have had a winning position. Unfortunately I didn’t see it, and it’s particularly annoying because it’s a move I could have seen and would have seen in the past. It reinforces my decision not to keep playing (except in exceptional circumstances).

Much more noteworthy on Tuesday was our neighbour Simon’s funeral at the RC Cathedral. Dot and I walked up there and met Bridget on the way. She was worried because she has a problem with her stomach and is awaiting tests.  The funeral itself was packed and moving: it was led by a family friend, who is a deacon at the Cathedral. Bob and Mary were there, but Mary was too emotional to talk afterwards.

We didn’t go to the cremation, but we did pop in to the Coach and Horses for the Reception, where we talked to Mairead’s friend Rachel (daughter of the deacon), and to Rachel’s mother, who is really nice. Also had a brief chat to Simone, who is Bronwen’s friend – bit of a coincidence – and said Bronwen was still in Norwich. Rather worrying.

Birthday meal hits spot

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Rather poor picture of our table at the Wensum View Hotel. Mary is on the left, Rachel is to the left of my vacant chair and Barbara to the right.
Rather poor picture of our table at the Wensum View Hotel. Mary is on the left, Rachel is to the left of my vacant chair and Barbara to the right. Dot is sitting next to a pilot whose name I forget.

Mary Thrower’s 70th birthday meal last Saturday turned out to be a delightful event, despite our not knowing anybody but Mary and Neville – plus, amazingly, Bernadette from Archant, who turned out to be their next-door neighbour.

The setting, despite rainy weather, was beautiful, with the room at the Wensum View Hotel looking way out over the golf course and the Wensum valley generally. The food was really delicious, despite the party being over 60 in number (quantity often reduces quality). And the six people who sat at out table were all very easy to get on with – in fact when nearly everyone had gone, our table was still all present and correct.

The number included Mary’s son Jamie (really nice guy) and his equally nice wife Rachel. I think the others were friends rather than relations: one couple came from Carleton Rode and the other from further away.

That was on Saturday. The following day I roused myself to lead the service at St Augustine’s in the presence of the new vicar, who was attending for the first time, as an observer. He stayed a long time afterwards and spoke to everyone. I wouldn’t be surprised if one of his aims is to get the two churches to do things together. That should be interesting.

The rest of the day was dull and rather oppressive: we couldn’t rouse ourselves to do anything much. But on Monday Colin came and fixed the garage door handle – which has unfortunately gone wrong since. He is coming again on Saturday. In the evening we had a PCC meeting at which for the first time in living memory St Augustine members almost made up 50% of the attendance. Howard didn’t make it, of course, but Eleanor and Judy did. I think we were a little less formal than the new vicar would have liked (what? no votes?), but no doubt there will be  conversion process, one way or the other. Simon gave a presentation on our registering as an individual charity, which you have to do when your turnover exceeds £100,000.

On Tuesday Barbara and her dog came to sort out some video for their p4c DVD and commandeered my computer to do so. I went to pay some cheques into the bank and wondered over to the Forum, where a young guy asked if I’d like to play chess (there’s a board game section in the library there). We had a good game, but he beat me after I hung a rook. I suggested he joined a local club. Enjoyed the game, but it sort of showed me I wasn’t up to what used to be my standard.

Yesterday was dull again, though warm. I got some work donned then went to Morrison’s with Dot for a fairly large bout of shopping before she disappeared to orchestra. An odd day.

Coffee machine trumps globe light

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On the brink of Christmas. Tomorrow comes the traditional drive to Coventry to fetch Andrew. Today featured the big shop at Waitrose, with Roger due to pop round later.

Back in Caddington several days to go, I took David to Heathrow with quite a lot to spare, thanks to very reasonable traffic, and got back to Caddington even quicker, taking advantage of the spare time to fill up with petrol before having a bath. (That didn’t come out quite how I meant it to.) Later we transported the lovely Amy to Aylesbury: her directions were immaculate, but there was a lot of traffic in the town, and Oliver was home well before we got there.

We waited for Vicky to get back, heard evidence of Oliver’s huge improvement at keyboards, and I shared some TV watching with Amy. We left soon after Vicky got home and headed for Milton Keynes to take advantage of the beautiful A421. Sadly that road had been violated and abused, and there was a 40mph speed limit for almost its entire length, for no obvious reason.

We turned off to try to find a pub, but could find only a Chinese restaurant, and eventually we made do with a Little Chef as we joined the A1. I had an excellent Olympic breakfast, while Dot had something much more sensible. She was driving, and the journey after that was straightforward.

The next evening we joined the Hendersons and friends for a pre-Christmas party and had a good time, meeting people we’d lost touch with, such as Philip and Heather Butcher, Chris and Caroline Brown (David’s old head), Neil and Harriet from Saxlingham and the Dowdeswells. Relaxing, and with some nice things to eat.

I can’t remember what happened the next day. Perhaps Phil came round. I was undoubtedly catching up with countless Christmassy things, making sure all was prepared for the Alternative Christmas Truce Carol Service, and Dot was certainly very busy. I believe she got some service sheets printed for Christmas Eve at some point.

The ACTCS actually went very well, and Geoff and Sophie came along, which was extraordinary – and extremely encouraging. He seemed considerably better. Vicky II was also there with Amy II.  The meal was pretty good, and afterwards we shot off to North-East Norfolk, calling in briefly on Sheila, who had a bad cold; then putting flowers in the cemetery; then diverting to Mundesley to return Lucy’s computer and pick up her cheque; and finally arriving at Jessie’s for tea and  mince pies.

Yesterday I went into the city  to pay in cheques, buy a lock for the church gates and obtain some presents for Amy. I then made the mistake 🙂 of calling in at M&S to find Dot and Anne in the cafe, following which we bought some crackers in BHS (interminable queue) and looked for a globe light for Dot for Christmas. Failing this, we repaired to Jarrolds, where Dot wanted to buy me a book, and on the way out we stumbled across some coffee machines, following which Dot didn’t want a globe light any more. The coffee machine was quite heavy, but apparently it suits requirements. Certainly looks nice.

Later I dropped Andy and Joy’s present in, and while I was there David Street and his girlfriend Sasha called; so we had a brief reminisce. In the evening I played in the Bob Royall Christmas event at the chess club, featuring a number of  types of variant chess (knight can’t take pawn, nothing can move backward, no checks unless it’s mate and queen can’t take any piece, etc). Did predictably badly at this, though two or three of my losses were on time. One good game and a couple of wins.

Julia and Alan Higbee called this morning and were the first to sample the new coffee. Following this we headed for Waitrose, which was predictably stormy  but not unnavigable. We purchased a chicken and some salmon and numerous supporting cast. Later we finished wrapping the presents, but before that remembered we had to pick up my jumper from the dry cleaners and take a couple more items to Dipples. In doing this we discovered that the traffic in the city was pretty bad. Ah well, it’s Christmas. Nearly.

Surprises all round

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Hectic couple of days. Monday was completed by a walk to Howard’s, where I formed part of an advisory group for Carrie’s activities. This was followed by a meal with Howard and Dot, who had just arrived, and that was followed by a DCC meeting.

A surprise attender at the DCC meeting was Liz, who had a couple of complicated proposals as usual. We sort of agreed the first one, concerning her use of the hall for meditation sessions, but the second was so obscure that after she had presented it for about ten minutes, no-one knew what she was talking about. We suggested she produce a one-page paper on it.

I presented my financial report, and we agreed to contribute whatever was necessary to make up St Luke’s shortfall on their parish share, since we had received an £18,000 legacy and were temporarily affluent. Dot and I walked home afterwards. Very cold. Wished I hadn’t taken the large lever arch file.

Yesterday I visited Lucy after dropping Dot off for her ladies’ lunch at the Mercure Hotel on the ring road. Had a pleasant time with Lucy and Naomi, both of whom seemed quite well, and I now seem to have Lucy’s computer to take in for repair.

Back in Norwich, I picked up Dot and Sue from the lunch and dropped Sue in town. I then walked back into town to pick up the watch I had left for a new battery when I went in earlier to pay in cheques. On the way home I was asked directions to Earlham crematorium by three Essex people in a car. Since they were so far away from where they needed to be, I saw no alternative but to travel with them.

While doing so I discovered that they were already so late for the crematorium that it was pointless going, and so I took them to the Eagle pub on Newmarket Road for the wake. They were profusely grateful, but I declined a pint.

I then walked home again, met chess colleague Jon Burrows on the way and caught a bus outside Debenhams for the last section. Dot didn’t seem to have been too concerned about where I was (she had been at Morrison’s).

I then cooked my own dinner (if you remember, Dot had had a Christmas lunch with the ladies) and compiled a Christmas Compline from sources on the internet and elsewhere. At 8pm Judy, Vicky and the Archers arrived and we had some Christmas nibbles and mulled wine before listening to Dylan Thomas’s superb A Child’s Christmas in Wales, which David Archer had brought on CD, and then doing the Compline. Exhausted, Dot and I then watched A Question of Sport. I don’t know why.

Today she is at a DCC meeting at Diocesan House.

I don’t know why

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The visit to Pinkys in Halesworth nearly didn’t happen. I dawdled over my egg curry and left myself with little time to get to Halesworth and then find the cafe. I took the back route and arrived at the car park I knew with about eight minutes to spare. I walked through the middle of town in what I thought was the right general direction and happened on the cafe  just in time. The room was already full, but I found a seat somewhere in the middle (not my favourite position) and bought a pot of tea. I don’t know why.

I wasn’t sure what to expect, but the evening followed the Seagull format, and I read three of my poems in the first half: Distant Funeral, Old Pictures and three tanka I’d just written on the theme of injured angel. They seemed to be well received,  and I had a pleasant chat during the break with a couple from Woodbridge who were sitting opposite me. Some of the usual suspects from the Seagull were there, including Kaaren Whitney  and Elizabeth Bracken. Oh, and Oonagh, who doesn’t write poetry but likes to read poems. I don’t know why.

To my astonishment the evening had ended by 8.45pm, and I made my way home through very misty Suffolk lanes and only slightly less misty Norfolk ones. I caught Ann and Jim before they went to bed, and we talked until 11.15, which is ridiculously late for them. I tried to explain how something could be poetry if it didn’t rhyme. I don’t know why.

The next day we celebrated Joy’s 60th birthday, nearly three weeks too late. The party was at Joe and Birgit’s in Hethersett, and we picked up a Northern Irish woman called Kirby (I think) from Douro Place. Other guests at the party included several Surrey regulars, plus – to my surprise – Sam, Lucy, Elliott and Helen( Lucy’s mother), with whom I had a longish chat while feeding Elliott with German cheesecake. We helped clear up and took Phil and Joy home afterwards. I don’t know why.

The next day I preached on grumbling. I was against it. I do know why.

On Monday, while Dot was at a P4C meeting in Metfield, I caught up with some church treasurer work and walked into the city to pay in some cheques. On the way I bumped into Nicola, Anna’s sister, who was cycling to meet her boyfriend at the station. In the evening I played what may be my last game of chess for some time, losing to Jeff Dawson in the club knockout tournament. It was a good game, quite complicated, and not one I minded losing, but there were some possibilities in it for me, and I just didn’t have the stamina to concentrate at the end. I don’t know why.

Oliver hits a dozen

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When I dropped in at St Peter Hungate yesterday – it was open as part of the annual Heritage celebrations – someone asked if it was a special day, since people seemed to be celebrating. I quickly pointed out that it was my grandson’s birthday, than which you can hardly get more special. Oliver is 12, and a student of Sir Henry Floyd Grammar School at Aylesbury. We spoke to him on Facetime this evening. He seems to be having a good time. Will make further checks tomorrow.

Hungate had an exhibition about the first world war which was small enough to be both accessible and moving.  It also had trustee Carol Hardman, who turned out to be a friend of Rob Knee’s and a bit of an enthusiast. So that was good.

I had dropped in after dropping out of Elizabeth McDonald’s Paston lecture at the Maid’s Head, mainly because I couldn’t hear it and partly because I’d heard it before. I dropped back in at the end and chatted to her. The hotel had not served her well by putting her in a room that was too small for the impressive turnout and not providing her with a microphone. The audience drifted into the vestibule and showed commendable persistence in sticking with it.

In a slightly less popular event, we held our monthly cake and compline with the Archers, Vicky and Judy at Number 22. We also invited Vicky Lenton, but that was a mistake. Those e-mail addresses can get you into an awful lot of trouble. I could have invited someone I hardly know who actually turned up, for instance. As it was the usual suspects ate some cake that Dot had baked and pronounced it very good.

Going back in time, last Sunday saw us at St Augustine’s, with me leading the service and Dot doing the intercessions. Seemed a long time since we’d been there. As usual the congregation doubled the moment the clock struck 11. In the evening Dot and I went to the Seagull to hear James Knox Whittet and others. I read four poems, and Dot got into conversation with Anne KW, telling her about Oxnead. As a result I invited them, but they were unable to come. However James wants to be involved with Chronicle, so that’s all good.

On Monday we had the usual poor turnout at the DCC meeting, with only Nicholas, Howard, Ian, Dot and I attending. I gave a financial report: a crucial issue s was left unresolved because of the small turnout, but there you go. Nicholas’ departure date is still up in the air, and the strain may be telling.

For some reason I can’t remember I had agreed to play chess on Tuesday, taking part in what is termed a 100-board match, but what is really ten ten-board rapid matches, in which a combined force of Norwich Dons and Broadland swamped a Norfolk and Norwich team at Langley Prep School, winning 61½-38½. I contributed a measly four points to our total, playing by far my best game in the first round against a strong junior and then gradually deteriorating in an interesting variety of ways. I am not really built for rapid chess, but at least they don’t grade it.

On Wednesday Chronicle had a dress rehearsal for Oxnead, and I reluctantly donned a long waistcoat and one or two other things. Painful. It emerged that Caroline is likely to be leaving to live in Cumbria – at least for a while – so the long-term future of the group hangs in the balance. On the plus side, James Knox Whittet may join us. But we need a woman. (Notice the restraint involved in my lack of comment there?)

Afterwards I went to see the doctor and as usual failed to communicate what exactly was wrong with me. Still, I am having numerous blood tests (or one blood test for numerous things) and may be referred to a urologist. I’m not sure that’s what’s required, but I can offer no alternative. My daily intake of Lansaprozole has been doubled, and I’m not sure about that either. On the plus side, my blood pressure is going in the right direction.

I am just back from an unsuccessful foray to the Guildhall to hear a talk on Norwich murderers. The organisers went one better than yesterday: this time it was full to capacity a quarter of an hour before it started. Planning a few additional murders, I went instead to Pull’s Ferry and saw the Watergate Room, which I thought was not normally open, but which is in fact open every weekend during summer. Interesting fact: the ferry closed in 1943; it was there because Bishop Bridge was originally open only to people visiting the Cathedral and its environs.

Meanwhile Dot has abandoned her cake-making to meet Sue Eagle in the city. Later we head for Lavenham with the Hendersons.

Here and (mainly) there

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Dot and Sue celebrate their conquest of the Cairnwell
Dot and Sue celebrate their conquest of the Cairnwell

The meal at Glen Lui last Friday was excellent, and a good way to end our holiday. The walk there and back was in quite steady rain, though. At the meal Dot spoke to a man from Yorkshire who was cycling in the hills, and we had a good conversation.

We left just before the 11am deadline on Saturday  and had a straightforward journey to Killington Lake, stopping briefly at Stirling services and at the Farm Shop at Tebay, as well as for lunch at Abington (steak and ale pie). Killington Lake had been given a bit of a makeover since last year, but unfortunately they had replaced the restaurant with a McDonald’s; so, like Lockerbie, no decent breakfast. Rather sad, and the room was a bit shabby too. It’s beginning to look as if Day’s Inn are going down a very American-style road, which means we shall have to go back to Premier Inn.

I drove the first part of the journey to Keynsham on Sunday, with no real problems until a much-heralded jam near Birmingham, where Dot spotted (and our satnav confirmed) a detour that looked very reasonable, involving part of the M54. It turned out very well, and we reached services on the M5 with no further problems. Big police presence here for no apparent reason. We had a lunch of sandwiches and continued south on the M5, Dot driving.

The first few miles from here were blighted by a 40mph speed limit (with cameras) that went on and on for no apparent reason. There were obviously roadworks in progress, but no-one was doing anything, and just about everyone was overtaking us. If the cameras were not in use, why didn’t they say so? This sort of thing makes me very angry.

We relied totally on the satnav to reach Dot’s accommodation in Keynsham, just south of Bristol, and the only time we went wrong (briefly) was when we ignored it. The room was in a rather basic pub: Barbara was already there. It wouldn’t have been my choice: the shower room looked awful. Still, it turned out OK apart from that.

I continued on my own (Dot was doing a P4C nearby the next morning, and she and Barbara were then travelling to Essex to do another one on the Tuesday). The satnav triumphed again, leading me on to the M4 near Chippenham, and the motorway turned out to be less fraught than I had anticipated. I stopped once for petrol and there was one minor hold-up near Reading, but this time I ignored – rightly – the suggested detour. Generally traffic was very heavy, but the only hold-up was in accessing the M25. Once on it, traffic moved well, and I reached Caddington in good time – just before Oliver, in fact. David had been retrieving the children from Vicky somewhere on the road to Aylesbury.

Had a lovely time with them, including an Indian takeaway, and then a good night’s sleep. They had to leave early the next morning for a familiarisation visit to Aylesbury (Oliver starts his new school today), and I set off for Norwich in wet and unappealing weather, which continued pretty much all the way, though it wasn’t quite so bad in Norfolk.

Felt pretty tired, but did a lot of unpacking and sorting out in the customary fashion. Then went to the chess club for a game with my old adversary Chris Tuffin in the club knockout tournament. I didn’t hold out a lot of hope, but did some preparation, looking at a couple of games he’d played in a line he favoured. He played the same line again, and I was able to play the first dozen moves or so without thinking much, following the ideas of his previous stronger opponent, who beat him in quite a short game. As anticipated, Chris deviated before the move where he’d made the big mistake before, and we got into a pretty level position, but at the time control he allowed a Queen exchange that gave me some advantage. I won a pawn and was able to convert the subsequent rook ending, helped by my advantage in time.

Still felt tired the next day, but caught up with a lot of admin stuff and did some washing. Dot rang to say both her sessions had gone well, and we arranged to meet at the Scole Inn at 3.20pm. This went according to plan, and we tried to drop off a shirt Roger had left at Ballater, but they were out. So we proceeded home and after a while took Joy’s birthday presents round, spending a pleasant hour or so there. Sadly we discovered that Lucy is still quite ill: her mother is with her much of the time.

In the evening we finished watching a serial on television and went to bed quite early. This afternoon I head for Coventry for a meeting about Andrew’s finances.

Farewell to Philomena

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philomenaThe talk at Halesworth went all right, despite my rather sketchy knowledge of tanka. It was sunny but much, much colder then the previous day. I drove through Bridge Street but failed to locate the driveway where I was supposed to park; so I left the car in the pay-and-display and walked down. After finding it, I returned for the car. Made some  money on it, too. Paid 70p for parking but found £1 in the return slot.

The tension persisted while I had a cup of tea in the adjacent cafe and established that the talk was to be in the library. In the library the group, some nine strong, were given an exercise which was supposed to last about 15 minutes, but as they all had to read out what they’d written and everyone else had to comment on each effort, it actually lasted nearer 45 minutes. Ah, well. I did speak eventually and they seemed to be happy. The organiser, Tom Corbett, bought me a sandwich afterwards, I had a chat with some of the group, and the drive home was very relaxing.

I had quite a good night’s sleep after that, but the next day I had a chess game, playing for the A team against Norfolk and Norwich in the semi-final of the Williamson Cup. They were desperate, as I believe I mentioned. I walked there (they play at Thorpe House school) and played pretty well, considering I hadn’t had a competitive match for months. Then I did a pretty close impression of Norwich v Stoke:  I won a piece and should have finished off the game easily, but simplified when I shouldn’t have and eventually drew when all the pawns came off.

This was made worse by (a) the fact that my opponent was graded considerably below me and (b) the unfortunate detail that if I had won we’d have made the final. Still, the team captain managed to throw away a much more obvious win and lose; so I can’t really feel too bad about it. Afterwards I had to find a side gate and climb down a bank to get out of the school grounds (the gates only opened for cars), and then predictably had another bad night. I only have the stamina for half a game of chess nowadays.

The next day was better. I delivered Phil’s presents and birthday card and then went up to the chemist to get a prescription for Dot. On my return the plumber came and put a new ballcock in the tank in the loft, and on this basis (and a word from the vicar) I recommended him to Paul and Maryta for work they want doing on their potential new house on Ipswich Road.

That night (Wednesday) I slept badly again, waking with severe pains in my stomach. Looking back, this may have been caused by mouldy bread. I noticed today that the loaf I had used for supper on Wednesday was going off in a big way. Anyway, I had recovered enough not to put off Roger and Sue Eagle, who were scheduled to come for lunch on Thursday, did, and stayed till  about 5pm. Dot made soup, bread, a dessert and a rhubarb crumble, and we had a really nice time. We’re hoping they will join us for a week in Scotland later in the year.

Had quite a reasonable night last night and noticed this morning that I’ve lost a quarter of a stone. My blood test came back clear, but I’m still not feeling 100 per cent. Have written a few Lent poems.

Today was Philomena’s funeral. She has lived next-door-but-one to us for some 30 years, but I discovered much more from the funeral homily in the RC Cathedral than I ever knew about her. Her maiden name is O’Driscoll, for instance, which is much more fun than Humphry. Very nice service. I walked there, and Dot arrived by car after an early lunch with Carrie at the Reading Rooms. Also present: Mary from next door; Diane, who used to live next door; and her predecessors, whose name escapes me. They now have a big B&B on Lower Clarence Road. He used to drive round the city in a horse and cart, but he now has a mobility scooter.  There must be a song in that. Or maybe not.

David has been in Canada all this week and returns tonight. We haven’t been to the cinema this week yet. May not make it now.

After the storm surge

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Uneven floor

After the storm surge, we drove out to the coast last Thursday to survey the damage. We started at Hemsby, where I spent many a week in my youth, wandering the valley between the dunes and playing cricket in the rare smooth bit. Idyllic times. The valley is still there, though we usually approach it from the Winterton end, but the dunes on the seaward side have been eaten away by the sea and are much lower.

In the recent surge the damage was done south of the Gap, where we rarely ventured when I was young. I got some quite dramatic pictures of semi-demolished houses (one with a washing machine hanging on by its power cord). We then moved on to Happisburgh, where only one house now remains in the road to nowhere: a lot of land lost along the cliffs to the south. Then Walcott, where the road was opened. The sea wall was OK, but there was quite bit of damage to properties across the road. We had fish and chips at Bacton and drove home.

Bedroom with sea view
Bedroom with sea view

On the way home the car started making a strange rattling noise underneath. So the next day, on the way to the Archant pensioners’ Christmas dinner,  I called in at the garage – and while I was eating my meal and chatting to former colleagues, they fixed it. The protective shield under the engine had come loose.  The meal was average, but it was nice to see the colleagues. It was raining.

Preached on Sunday on John the Baptist and spent much of the weekend writing cards, with very little walking. However I have made up for it since, having achieved nearly 15 miles since Monday. This included much shopping, but also a walk up to the vicarage to pick up an urgent cheque that had to be paid into the bank.

Dot had a blood test early on Monday, and had to avoid alcohol over the weekend, which was of course quite difficult. We await the results. On the ending I made a rare visit to the chess club, where I took part in the Bob Royall Christmas event, which featured such rare variations as extermination chess, Fischer random, diagonal pawns and team chess. Despite being handed a defeat in round one, where we had to move to a new board halfway through, and the board I moved to was completely lost, I managed to finish equal third out of 12. I was particularly pleased because I found some key moves in the team chess and set up wins.

However, I was very tired afterwards, and found it hard to sleep. That was the main reason I stopped playing regularly, so it wasn’t too encouraging. Good evening, though.

A full attendance at the Tuesday Group on Tuesday, for which I cooked chilli con quorn, a well known Christmas dish. Judy brought some stolen; so all was not lost.

Yesterday Dot forgot to look in her diary and arrived at Barbara’s around 11am, or roughly two hours too early. Meanwhile I was delivering cards and buying more presents. Dot got back in time to take the bus up to Chapelfield and queue to obtain certain footballers’ autograph on a ball. Took Dot’s picture with said footballers.

After this we hastened home to get ready for the Sillars Orchestra Christmas outing at Merge, a Malaysian restaurant at the junction of Dereham Road and Grapes Hill. Quite a pleasant evening, though Dot was much keener on the food than I was. I had a chat with the conductor and others, and afterwards we were invited for coffee by Neville and Mary (Clarinet) Thrower. I was in the same class as Neville at school, though he wasn’t Neville then of course: he was Thrower, or occasionally Chucker.

Close to heaven on earth

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David and Chrissy

Another packed week, starting last Sunday (as weeks do) with an evening meal at the Greens’. The four of us were joined by Anna’s sister, Nicola (Mendikova) and her friend Jane (John) from Trowse. Fantastic evening: good food and wine, plus excellent conversation. Suggested to Howard afterwards that this was pretty close to my idea of heaven on earth: good food, good wine and conversation with four beautiful women.

On Monday I managed to beat Norman Thomas at chess, bringing my score to 5/7, but even if I beat Andy P tomorrow, the tournament result depends on other scores. I’ve decided that I’m going to have a proper break from chess next year.

Tuesday saw Dot and I on the road to Warwick to visit Andrew in hospital. The day started bright but deteriorated sharply later, with quite a bit of rain. Andrew was in a sorry state, possibly the worst I’ve seen him. We were able to talk to the nurse, the doctor and Andrew’s new care worker, Elaine (bubbly), plus his old case worker, Paul, who is pretty tight-lipped. Afterwards Dot and I went to look at Andrew’s prospective new home, Minster Lodge, which is for people with mental health problems. The room earmarked for him is quite nice, with steps to the garden, but the place is a bit of a warren, and I’m not sure how he’ll get on with the 23 other residents. I was however impressed with the manager, Helen.

In between Warwick and Minster Lodge, Dot and I had fish and chips at the Burnt Post on Kempas Highway. Excellent. Bit of nostalgia there: very close to one of my childhood homes in Beanfield Avenue. Of course we would never have darkened the doors of the Burnt Post in those days.

On Wednesday I had a blood test, and in the evening a DCC meeting – on my own, while Dot was at an orchestra rehearsal. On Thursday we installed Infinity, or at least BT did. The engineer was outstanding. He arrived shortly before I had to leave for a session with Sharon, my physiotherapist and was extremely helpful, brushing aside fears that our set-up, featuring a hole in the wall, might present problems. By the time I got home he was about to leave, and everything was working fine and fast.

The next day we travelled down to Mottingham to visit the Hendersons. Maryta’s father was also staying, and he is in good shape mentally for 88, though rather fragile physically. After lunch we walked round the grounds and had a look at the new school Gallery, with its Mervyn Peake exhibition, in the company of the headmaster and his wife!

The following morning we left just after 10am to travel to Caddington – a 1¼-hour trip through the Blackwall tunnel and along the M11 and M25. We arrived shortly before David and the children got back from swimming in the company of Chrissy, who had arrived from Canada the previous day. We all went for lunch at the Red Lion somewhere in the country (beyond Markyate), a lovely pub with excellent service. Amy was not feeling too well, and we left without having sweet. However, this was compensated for somewhat by Chrissy’s pavlova, which she completed after the children were picked up by Vicky. Before that however I had a good session of cricket in the garden with Oliver, who is a promising bowler. Others joined in now and then.

We left not long after enjoying the pavlova, and Dot drove back to Norwich in close to a record time. I was feeling shattered. Meanwhile I suspect that Caddington was close to heaven on earth for those left behind.