Tag Archives: church

Alarming influx of digital devices

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Dot on one of the more remote paths at Hever Castle.
Dot on one of the more remote paths at Hever Castle.

The plumber did sort the leak out, but he discovered that we need a new stopcock. Meanwhile, we have bought a new 48″ TV (Samsung 4K), a BT YouView replacement for our Humax box and a Sony CD player. We managed to get them all home from John Lewis in our car, though it was a much tighter fit than I thought it would be. It’s a taken few days, but I now have them up and running, together with our Apple TV,  though the day-to-day operation is far from smooth. It goes without saying that we are not using any of them to their full potential, or even correctly.

The whole operation was so all-consuming  that we totally forgot that we had tickets to see Brian Patten at Halesworth on Sunday before Dot had arrange to have an evening meal with Jessie, Roger and Debbie. Clearly Brian Patten couldn’t compete. I offered the tickets on Facebook and rang a couple of people, but sadly they went to waste. Still, we had a good time at North Walsham. Jessie’s cousin Margaret and the Vicar of Suffield came round to discuss family history, with particular reference to Lacey Pike, who was killed at Gallipoli. I was able to contribute a small amount, but not much. Lacey was Dot’s grandmother’s brother, unless I’ve very much mistaken.

As I write Dot is in Hull with Barbara, training some teachers there in Philosophy4Children. After she left yesterday (at about 3pm) I walked up to Revelation with a heavy bag of secondhand books, then continued to the church hall, where I found Carrie and Sophie. I was able to retrieve some cash from the safe and remembered at the last minute to check the meters: I need to speak to British Gas at some point soon.

From there I progressed to Halfords and bought a digital tyre inflator, which I felt we needed, and then proceeded home via the Riverside Path and The Close. Pretty tired at the  end of all that. I found I’d done over 4 miles in the day. So I cooked myself a pie and watched Norwich lose 6-2 to Newcastle without looking at all bad, and Ireland and Scotland lose in the rugby world cup quarter-finals, the latter because of a very bad refereeing decision.

I forgot to mention that last Thursday, in the midst of my electrical challenges, I went up to the Theatre Royal to see Martin Laurance’s new exhibition (Dot decided to give it a miss). Very good selection of pictures; if I hadn’t just bought a television, I might have been tempted. Ran into Rupert Mallin, who was in rude health, and on the way out poet Hilary Mellon.

 

Walking the platform at Stratford

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Late in the day on the footbridge over the railway near Thorpe marshes.
Late in the day on the footbridge over the railway near Thorpe marshes.

On Thursday Dot and I drove out to Hempton, near Fakenham, where Caroline Gilfillan was launching her new book, Poet in Boots, at the Bell. This was, I thought, a pleasant country pub, but Dot was not too impressed. I was able to have a beer and go to the loo without any trouble: what more could one want?

The launch consisted of a few poems read by Caroline and some songs from her friends, one or two of which were very good. All round it was a very good evening, though we only really knew Caroline.

The next day was Oliver’s birthday, and we sent him messages, hoping that he got his card. We will be taking his presents at the end of this week. At the end of the day it was warm and sunny; so we went for a walk on Thorpe marshes, which was marred only by flying insects, one of which bit Dot on her eye, which gave her a bit of trouble for a couple of days. Otherwise it was an idyllic evening, with a couple of herons and calm water, and a grebe in the distance.

On Saturday we went to the Hendersons’ for an evening meal after getting rid of stuff from the garage. We expected it to be just the four of us, but their neighbours  from Lime Tree Road were there as well. Nice food, pleasant company. Sunday was rainy. After church, where we played the music in the absence of Phil, I did some church sitting for the Heritage Day while Dot went home to practise her violin, her time being cut short a bit by her neglecting to take the door key. As I had started the day by forgetting the church hall key, this rounded things off nicely. (All because we were using the courtesy car.) The church hall water leak problem is ongoing, but now there is a lighting problem. The vicar has apparently decided to leave everything practical in Howard’s hands, which is all very nice, but Howard has a job, a wife, two daughters and a grandchild.

After church Dot and I went to see Jessie, which was lovely as always.

Monday saw us heading for Wimbledon in rainy weather that turned quite chilly later. We stopped for refreshments at the Services on the M11, because I was feeling pretty tired, but then continued without incident across the Dartford bridge (which reminds me, I have to pay for the crossing – pause – done) and along the southern section of the M25 before following the satnav directions in towards Raynes Park, where we parked in Waitrose’s car park next to the station.

I was driving Dot down because of anticipated difficulty in finding the place, and was then due to get the train back while she met up with Barbara. This actually happened, but we had loads of time to spare; so we went into Starbuck’s for a snack and then wandered round a bit in the rain. Eventually I got an earlier train than intended and then a tube from Waterloo to Stratford, which turned out to be a bleaker station than I expected. So I persuaded a ticket lady to let me out and use the toilets in the Westfield centre, and then let me back in again. I then walked up and down the platform – it was getting pretty chilly – until the train arrived. I had a specified seat in first class, which turned out to be not available, but there were loads of others and I got a better one (single, with table).

Today was much better after a rainy start, and I went into the city to pay in some cheques, including one for me (from the PHS) that I’d found in my jacket pocket. Ran into some people looking for Dragon Hall in the wrong place, and then spoke to Ed Read, who told me he and Jenny were going to try and adopt. Made myself hot lunch with leftover toad in the hole and – to be honest – rather wasted the afternoon, listening to YouTube songs and eventually getting round to finishing this, just as I see Dot is about to arrive.

I am now 70, so I can do what I like

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Beached, and looking its age.
Beached, and looking its age.

So I have managed to reach the age of 70, struggling across the line after eating and drinking too much over the weekend. Yesterday was my birthday, of course, and we had a celebration at church after my sermon on the beheading of John the Baptist. Dot made a delicious chocolate cake and bought champagne. She invited several people, only one or two of whom could come: Vicky and Paul and Maryta (the latter for the celebration only). Really nice to have so many people wishing me well.

I got texts from David and Chrissy in Italy, and in the evening Dot and I went to Cafe Rouge in the Chapelfield Mall with the Robinsons. The restaurant was fairly empty, except for our dentist and his wife, but the food was excellent: I think this type of food is my favourite, especially the way they do steak and chips. We had a free bottle of bubbly too. Hope this restaurant doesn’t go the way of the previous one on Exchange Street. The service was also excellent.

The previous night had been Roger’s 55th birthday party, at Jurnet’s Club. The atmosphere and food were first class, though we didn’t know many people. The music was pretty loud (though good); so both Dot and I found it difficult to conduct conversations. I spent much of the evening listening to Jude, but I practically had to sit in her lap to hear what she was saying. She is apparently being threatened with legal action by a woman in a wheelchair for suggesting it might be helpful if she (the wheelchair woman) brought a friend to the Red Hat excursions to look after her, in view of her disability.

Also spoke to Fiona, George and Debbie (apparently Roger’s new girlfriend, though he’s known her a long time) and surprisingly, Kim Pummell, with whom he went to school. She works as a secretary to various Archant executives, and used to arrange my company cars for me. Meanwhile Dot was having similarly difficult conversations with men I didn’t know.

Earlier in the day I went to a farm at Aylmerton to assist Peter Stibbons with some filming for the Paston DVD. He was already being assisted technically by Paul Damen, but I was found a role as sound man. I also read one of the letters in costume. The location was Tony Colman’s Park Farm (no relation), and because of an anomaly on the map I found it hard to find. Still, better late… Lovely sunny spot. Most of the re-enactors were there.

On Friday the gas man came to service our boiler and discovered we needed a flush-through. I am awaiting a phone call to arrange this. Nice bloke. In the evening we went round the Hendersons for a light meal. No flush-through required.

On Thursday I had taken Joy and Phil to the doctor’s again. It was their 40th anniversary on Sunday and they managed to get to church to celebrate, which was quite an achievement for them, as they find it hard to walk far nowadays, and both get tired quickly.

This week has turned rainy. Joy is worried because the 23rd (when they plan to go to Southampton) is forecast to be 29C. I tried to persuade her that no-one can make accurate ten-day forecasts, but she remains concerned.

A bad day for the roses

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Tim,, Jude and Dot at the refurbished Wensum Sports Hall.
Tim, Jude and Dot at the refurbished Wensum Sports Hall.

They raved about Mr Turner, and the more I think about it, the more I think they were probably right. I should probably watch it again, because it’s a bit of a slow burn. Three excellent performances: Timothy Spall, of course, as the surprisingly unrefined Turner,  Dorothy Atkinson as his put-upon but devoted maid, and Marion Bailey as the “profoundly beautiful” Mrs Booth, a memorably good woman.

Most of last week was spent dealing with church financial matters (including a financial report for the year), and writing and rewriting a sermon. Plus various other sedentary matters. Feeling shivery on and off, and although the weather has turned very cold, I don’t think it’s that. Quite disconcerting.

We also had an unexpected visit from Simon (Wakefield), who had fallen over and injured himself. We took him in, warmed him up and Dot bathed his wounds. He was quite shaken. His leg is getting worse, and there is a risk that it might have to be amputated. Very sad. Such a nice guy.

On Friday I called in to see Joy and Andy, and Joy (a former nurse) suggested my minor problem might be hormonal. Nothing really fits my symptoms; so I shall try to give up thinking about it and hope it goes away. Had a good if shivery time with the McCalls, eating Stella McCartney “sausage” rolls and a bit of carrot cake. I took her a rough copy of my Iona book, which has now gone to the printers, complete with a bar code that I got for free off the Internet and is probably therefore deficient. Took two “sausage” rolls home for Dot, who gave them the thumbs up.

Had an unusually vigorous day on Saturday, which was sunny and not quite so cold. I cut down the roses in the back garden (except the ones making their way up and around the arch) and then annihilated the ones in the front garden. While I was doing this, Bob got me a cup of tea, which was nice. Broke off for lunch and then a walk up to Wensum Lodge, where Roger was assisting at the open day to mark its refurbishment.  They’ve done an excellent job there. A woman tried to persuade us to play pickle ball, but Dot was heading for the city to pay in a cheque and do a bit of shopping, and I had to get back to finish the roses. However, stayed long enough to meet Jude, who had dropped in after conducting a city tour from the front seat of a coach.

Back at the house I finished off the roses and managed to stuff about two thirds of them into the brown bin, and the rest of them into the green plastic tub. Hard work. I may not do it again for a year or so.

In the evening we took Jude II (Reynolds) to Eleanor’s, where we had been invited for a meal, and had an enjoyable evening, featuring burnt roast vegetables, which we all agreed we liked. Really. Eleanor is very sweet.

Yesterday, after a night during which I felt very hot, I reverted to shivery mode and managed to give a sermon on Advent and taking life seriously, which went down quite well. In the afternoon, after taking the rare opportunity of watching Norwich City win a game, we visited North Walsham cemetery and then Jessie, who produced some trademark mince pies. She seemed very well and can get up the stairs with no problem at all.

Today I’ve written a couple of pieces for Parish Pump, sorted out some cards and presents, got rid of some old papers and carrier bags at Morrisons, posted a parcel and some cards and put out the rubbish.  I’ve also written this, and I now have to walk to Howard’s for (a) a meeting about Carrie’s activities (b) a quick meal and (c) a DCC meeting. Dot will be joining us for the latter two. She has cleaned out the utility room and is still working on cards and presents. It’s all go.

Earlier Martin Smith called round with £247 in Enneagram money. I have e-mailed the speaker to find out how much of it he wants.

Small giraffe thrown in

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High water at the Linn of Quoich
High water at the Linn of Quoich

The Lavenham excursion turned out to be particularly interesting. It was basically a private view by sculptor Kate Denton, who is a former Eltham College parent and who now lives in a house with huge grounds behind the church at Lavenham. The sculptures, some of which populated the gardens, were actually brilliant and equally actually hugely expensive. I cannot say how much Maryta spent on one she had set her heart on, but there was a small giraffe thrown in. I was impressed by Kate, who remembered my name as she said goodbye. It doesn’t take much…

We followed up this delight with another one, calling in at Nayland to see Maryta’s sister Terry and her husband Keith. They had recently taken delivery of an Aga for roughly the same outlay as Maryta’s sculpture. Where are we going wrong? Anyway, the tea and refreshments were lovely, and so were the hosts.

The following day (Saturday) we set off for Caddington for a late celebration of Oliver’s 12th birthday. Dot had baked a cake because she knew she was going. We had a lovely day, playing games (including one Amy had invented, and continued inventing as we played it). She is very clever at this kind of thing, and the game proved very playable and fun. We helped provide the food for lunch, and in the evening David cooked an excellent spaghetti bolognaise.  On the way home I detected that Dot was about to go to sleep while driving and took over at Thetford.

On Sunday after Communion, at which I sang my new song, Dot and I invigilated at the old church, which was open for Heritage Weekend. If I were to say we had few visitors during our hour, that would be pretty much spot on. However, we did have the guy who was supposed to have been invigilating the previous hour but got it wrong. Other than that, four, but Norwich Heart had admittedly forgotten to include it in their list of Norwich churches that were open – much to Stuart’s disgust.

Afterwards we went out to Norwich and visited the cemetery and a house that has just come on to the market and caught Dot’s eye. Quite nice, actually. Jessie was unfortunately out, but we left her a present from Scotland (Ecclefechan cakes). In the evening Dot left for Barbara’s, where she stayed the night, before they both headed south this morning for Rayleigh and then Canterbury for two P4C sessions. At least, I presume they did. I haven’t heard anything.

Meanwhile I have done some shopping and am awaiting the arrival of my cousin Ann and her husband Jim, who are presumably on the road from Surrey, where they spent the weekend.

David, Chrissy and party

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Dot, Amy and Oliver on the brink
Dot, Amy and Oliver on the brink

David, Chrissy and the grandchildren have come and gone. It was a rather unusual visit that seemed to pass too quickly. It opened with a bang: Dot arranged an Arbonne party at the house for Wednesday evening, to which many of her friends were invited. Parking problems were surmounted through the use of chauffeurs (Julia), remote  parking (Anne and Bridget) and my positioning the MX5 in Rosary Road to make room for Sue and Judy. Too much detail, I hear you say.

The party seemed to go well, though I’m not sure how financially successful it was: in any case there is a suspicion that most of the friends came to see Chrissy, David and the grandchildren. I can hardly blame them for that.  I should make clear that it is Chrissy who is the Arbonne consultant, not Dot.

The weather has been warm, and some of the party was in the garden. On the Thursday Dot and I took the children to Winterton, one of their favourite spots, where we had a late lunch at the cafe and followed it up by some hide-and-seek in the dunes, which my ankle stood up to reassuringly well. Even Dot was able to move about a bit 🙂 We also spent some time on the beach, when all of us paddled.

While we did this, David and Chrissy were doing my Norwich Paston walk, partly as a test for some software he’s writing. They appeared not to get lost. There was also a great deal of table tennis played, with Oliver improving visibly as the three days progressed. In the end he was beating both Dot and me. Amy spent a lot of time watching some kind of drama on her small screen, and did not welcome intruders.

L:ate on the Friday David and Chrissy took my car to Suffolk to visit a cousin  of Chrissy’s. Earlier Richard had called round coincidentally and was able to talk to David about websites and similar matters.

The Caddington contingent returned home on Saturday just after lunch, following a visit to Hobbycraft and Morrisons and an unsuccessful search for a Mr Whippy. Sorry, Amy. The journey went well – probably a good time to travel.

After a rest in the afternoon, Dot and I went next door for a meal. Much of it was in the back garden, the weather still being very warm. But it ended in a thunderstorm:  we rushed home to take washing off the line when we saw the lightning, but returned for another half an hour.  Good food and drink and some enjoyable conversation, mainly philosophical 🙂

But this thunderstorm was nothing compared to the one that hit Norwich yesterday afternoon. We had been to church, where I preached on God being with us, and were sitting watching television when there was a huge, prolonged cloudburst. It wasn’t long before water came into our living room again. It seemed to come down the walls, but there was more on the floor than seemed to be indicated by marks on the walls. We got the towels out again and mopped it up.

Next door had flooding in the bathroom, and are having a builder round tomorrow. He is popping in to see us too.

In the evening Dot and I went to Lowestoft for a Seagull performance. We read a tanka series together and then I read a couple of my other poems which were well received, especially by Kaaren Whitney, who wants me to read at some other place in Suffolk in August. Uniquely, there was a guest poet, Rodney Pybus, who was pretty good, but it left little time for others, and the whole thing didn’t finish till after 10pm, by which time we were pretty tired.

Money, money, walking

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At last everything seems in order for our holiday in Florida. This morning I had to fill in an application for all five of us for a visa waiver. Needless to say, this went wrong in the middle and I had to get back in to complete it, but with help from David it all worked out. I also checked the seat reservations, and they are all OK – even the American Airlines ones.

Looking up the river towards Foundry Bridge, it seems more like late winter than early spring.
Looking up the river towards Foundry Bridge yesterday, it seems more like late winter than early spring.

I’ve spent quite a long time at my desk this week, working mainly on church-related stuff. I’ve written a sermon and chosen some hymns, but mainly I’ve been working on money matters. At the PCC on Monday it was revealed that we had been left quite a large sum of money and given quite a lot more; nevertheless everyone was keen to go ahead with a Paying Our Way day when the Bishop visits at the end of May, which seems to me like flying in the face of the evidence. I eventually mentioned this to Howard, who sees what I mean. Ho hum. I decided not to speak to Nicholas about it, because I don’t want to deflate him!

Part of the church money business did involve some exercise, because I had to go to the bank in Magdalen Street to sign a form and show some identity, then on to the Vicarage in Aylsham Road to get Nicholas to sign come cheques. I then delivered three of the cheques – in Sussex Street, St Giles and King Street – as well as calling in at Howard’s in case he was there to received the new account material. But he wasn’t.

All this amounted to nearly five miles of  walking, and I have done quite a lot elsewhere too, so I’m on target for a record week. Of course I haven’t done any today yet…

We resumed our cinema visiting on Tuesday, seeing Labor Day, which wasn’t well reviewed but which we both enjoyed. In the evening we had a visit from Ed, who stayed for a chat and a cup of tea, and last night another former St Augustine’s friend, Heather Cracknell, called in after I caught her trying to find somewhere to park and lent her a permit. She was going to Prezzo’s with some colleagues, but afterwards she called in and had a drink and quite a long chat, which was nice. Rhianna is about Oliver’s age and like him is preparing for high school. Hard to believe.

Meanwhile I visited the dentist again yesterday and was reassured that the work he’d done last week was OK. He also gave me some antibiotics to take on holiday, just in case (after I asked for them). So that’s reassuring. In the evening I recorded five songs in case Phil wants to do them for the Seagull next time, whenever that is. I’ve also written a few poems, so that can’t be bad.

Nothing suspicious here

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In matron's white, my aunt Dorothy pictured at Norwich School in 1964 - from a photo in the school magazine
In matron’s white, my aunt Dorothy pictured at Norwich School in 1964 – from a photo in the school magazine

Spent much of Sunday wondering why Dot hadn’t worked out that David was coming to see her for Mothers’ Day. I could clearly get away with murder. I even cleaned the bath and the washbasin in the morning, and went to Budgen’s after church to stock up on bread. Then we went to North Walsham to put flowers on the graves and in a totally out-of-character move I rejected the possibility of dropping in on Jessie. I then (having by now established what time David would be arriving) stopped by the church at Beeston St Lawrence and we had a look round. Warm, calm, dry, idyllic. Not suspicious at all.

David eventually arrived just after 5pm, as Dot was finishing some work in the garden and not noticing how I kept consulting my Find-your-Friends app to see where he was.  I rejected making the bed in the guest room as a step too far and put the chicken in, peeled far too many potatoes for two, and went upstairs while Dot did work on the computer, thus allowing her to open the door when the bell rang.

It was worth it.

David left this morning just after 12, after we’d had a chat with Mairead outside. This afternoon a buoyant Dot is at Little Plumstead school explaining to parents how wonderful Philosophy4Children is. I went into the city to pay in some cheques. It’s nice to be able to do that without putting on a coat.

Cold walk around the reservoir

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Dave and Julia take a close look at a hazard on the Fernilee footpath
Dave and Julia take a close look at a hazard on the Fernilee footpath

The weekend at Buxton turned out less muddy than I anticipated, though there are those who found it extreme. In view of the forecast we were fortunate: our walk on the Sunday was dry and mainly sunny, and the promised wind was not as severe as we had been led to believe.

Led by Dave, we walked round Fernilee reservoir, the outward leg being a bit of a challenge in view of the fallen trees and minor diversions. The home leg was much easier, along a former railway track and so flat, though still very wet in places.

In between the outward and the inward leg came lunch, of course. At Julia’s behest this was essential, and so we climbed up out of the valley into Fernilee village and The Shady Oak, which was surprisingly empty for a Sunday. Dot and I weren’t very hungry, so we shared cheese sandwiches, washed down by cider.

Back at the hotel, Dave and Julia hastened into town (they have more stamina than us, perhaps because their natural pace is slower). Dot and I followed after a short rest – bit of a mistake as far as I was concerned, because although we had a cup of tea looking out over the gardens and then ran into D & J on the way back, it left me feeling really exhausted and not too well.  Usual head problem, but not as severe as it might have been.

The previous day, with abundant rain promised, we took the train to Manchester. Dot and Julia spent most of the day in M & S and Selfridges, while Dave and I went to the Museum of Science and Industry, which was fascinating but cold. We saw only part of it and both wanted to return some time. The wind and rain held off till we emerged from MOSI, when we were lashed by it on the way to the free bus (great system in Manchester city centre) (the free bus, not the rain).

Back at Buxton the wind and rain were even worse, and we had to battle against it up the hill to the hotel. Surprisingly, though, no snow over the entire weekend. Hotel was good as usual, other than low water pressure (being fixed). Food was very good.

The journey up there went reasonably well, though there were some hold-ups, and the second half was in pouring rain. Coming back was easier. We called at Andrew’s in Coventry, but he was out, and as I had cold symptoms and the house had a diarrhoea and sickness warning, we didn’t linger – just dropped off his jacket, which we’d had dry-cleaned. We used the Bedford route back to Norwich, which is longer but easy.

Yesterday Dot dropped me at the church hall to meet the man replacing our electricity meter. He had phoned to say he would be early, but was in fact half an hour late because he’d received an emergency call. Anyway, he replaced the meter as I watched (he was a pleasant guy) and I then walked home. Felt pretty groggy when I got there and was quite relieved when it turned out that most people were not coming to Tuesday Group; so we cancelled it and had a relaxing evening watching television.

Missed our new Monday slot at the cinema this week (too tired after journey), but may go this afternoon, if Dot finishes her paperwork in time. We had a lie-in this morning, and I feel a bit better.

Problems with paperwork

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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.