Tag Archives: dcc

By rail to Coventry

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My form photo, probably from 1960-61, recently unearthed. The form teacher is Neddy Carter, and I can remember almost all the boys' names. I am standing almost on my own, on the left.
My form photo, probably from 1960-61, recently unearthed. The form teacher is Neddy Carter, and I can remember almost all the boys’ names. I am standing almost on my own, on the left.

We haven’t quite lost summer yet: today is warmish and Dot has gone for a walk in the city. While there she bought a lot of printer paper, and I went up in the car to pick it up. Earlier this morning, the MX5 was at last taken away to be repaired, and we have a Nissan Micra in the drive. Surprisingly, the man who fetched the MX5 drove it away. I warned him the front had fallen off once, and the back tyre was losing air, but he didn’t seem worried. Not after I gave him a cup of tea, anyway.

Yesterday I spent mainly getting to Coventry and back, with a brief break around 4.40pm when I spoke to Andrew in hospital for about 40 minutes, and had a chat with the senior nurse. Andrew doesn’t seem too bad. He has a large bear. I went to Coventry by rail, starting at 12.30 and transferring to Euston by tube before a one-hour journey to Coventry. From there it was about a half-hour bus trip to the hospital. On the way back I got an earlier and faster train than I had expected, but unfortunately it was delayed because of a signalling problem between Rugby and Milton Keynes. Still, I got home about 10.45pm and finished one of my birthday books, Ancillary Justice by Ann Leckie. Good prize-winning SF with some very original ideas.

On Tuesday I had expected a quiet day but Philip Robinson was very anxious to get on Facebook so that he could contact (or be contacted by) someone he met on holiday. So I spent a couple of hours fixing him up with a Facebook account and a couple of friends. He found the guy he was looking for, and we sent him a Friend Request.

The excitement on Monday centred on the DCC meeting. I spent much of the day writing a Finance Report and sorting out a few other details. The meeting was at Howard’s and so featured much wine and nibbles, which I’m not sure the vicar was expecting. As it turned out, the meeting was the longest I’ve ever experienced, finishing at 10.10, when Judy gave us a lift home (we’d walked there). No doubt things will quieten down, but I guess this is the sort of thing that happens when the vicar is single and has too much spare time.

The drama about the water leak continues, with Stuart complaining about more or less everything but at least arranging for progress to made. He’s had Colin digging up the neighbour’s garden and searching for absent stopcocks, and is now complaining about the insurance policy, which looks fine to me. I think he’d really like the church to be liable to pay huge amounts of money…

As I mentioned last time, I went to the Seagull last Sunday on my own, as Dot was not feeling too well and Phil was under a lot of pressure from various sources (though not Anglian Water or Stuart). I read half a dozen poems which seemed to be well received. Well, no-one threw anything.

Vicar surprises us

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Three-handed chess set – a gift from Karen

It’s a sunny, warmer day, and Dot has just been out in the garden (with a little help from me), tidying up. Norwich City are already on the radio, and she is in the kitchen.

The air has been gradually losing its chill over the past week, but last Sunday, when we went to the Seagull at Lowestoft after I had both led and preached in the morning, it was still pretty cold, with a chill wind. Phil was unable to come with us; so Dot and I played a couple of Julian songs in the first half, and I did “I Want to Catch Fire” on my own later. This is a song I wrote many years ago, but I have only just worked out how to sing (and play) it. It seemed to go all right.

On Monday it was still very cold; so Dot and I decided not to walk to the Greens’ for the DCC. We had a longish meeting, with a rather relaxed discussion at the end. The new vicar turned out to be not the one we had anticipated, but everyone seemed happy about him. His name is David Austin, and he is a big devotee of Facebook: he has been posting a great deal this week, not all of it uninteresting.

Next morning I walked up to Archant in murky weather for the monthly coffee morning: Su Lee was in attendance, as was Bob Easter, with news that Alan Atherton was extremely ill and not likely to last long. It was rather a subdued gathering after that, but a new chairman, Eric, was elected (can’t remember his surname: he was a print room supervisor), Alan having stood down.

On Wednesday Dot and I managed to get to the cinema, with two free seats (accumulated points) to see The Second Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, which we enjoyed tremendously. Intelligent script, good direction and beautiful, relaxed acting. We were smiling all the way through and for some time afterwards.

Thursday was quite busy. We went out to North Walsham to put flowers on the graves (it was Doreen’s birthday) and then called in on Jessie for a cup of tea and biscuits: she seemed in very good form. We had to get back in time to let in Naomi, who came for the night so that she could get to a course at UEA the next morning. Having let her in, we abandoned her and walked to the Greens for an evening meal with them and Vicky and Helen Ward, who was staying for a few days. Typical Green hospitality left us replete and walking back home just before midnight.

The next day everyone except Dot went to UEA. Slight exaggeration – Naomi left early for her course, and  I followed not long after (by bus) for a meeting at the Registry with other Paston trustees and Dr Karen Smyth, who gave me a three-handed chess set. We also spent a long time talking about the Heritage Lottery Fund bid, and continued the discussion after a lunch in Vista (the top cafe). I had fish and chips, which was excellent. Naomi joined us at her own expense and went back to Mundesley with her mother..

I returned home by bus and spent quite a long time catching up with paperwork. Dot arrived home from lunch with Anne shortly after I arrived, and after a bit more work we spent much of the evening watching TV. After the fish and chips, not much supper necessary.

Still managing to keep up with Lent tanka. Just.

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.

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.

A question of pressure

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Quoich Water, and plenty of it.

When we were in Scotland, the average temperature was around 6-8C. This week 26C has been recorded at Aviemore, and it was 24C yesterday at Aboyne, where it was snowing less than a week ago. But it’s warm and sunny here in Norfolk too, ever since they fixed the power cut. Odd, Holmes.

I’ve had a blood test followed by a visit to the doctor, with the result that I have an extra pill to lower my blood pressure. Good news on that front: it’s down to 152/94, which is a considerable improvement.

The power cut did rather hamper my compilation of a financial report for the DCC, but I suspect that my version of a financial report (description of how we’re doing) is not the the kind of thing required (forecast of what we’ll have at the end of the year). Yes, I could make a guess, based on what is coming in and what is going out, but since that could fluctuate wildly, I don’t see how it would be much use. I mean, what if we only had a few loaves and fishes?

In much the same news, I paid in quite a large number of cheques to the DCC’s bank account on Tuesday and then dropped some Paston flyers off at St Peter Mancroft Church, where I had a very pleasant conversation with a woman from Kingston on Thames (originally). I then popped into the Forum to see the Norwich 20 Group exhibition and ran into Hilary Mellon, who was pretending to be a steward. Also left some flyers at the Tourist Information office.

On the way home ran into swathes of Celtic supporters, up for an Adam Drury testimonial match. I observed on Facebook that I was OK, since my wife was born in Glasgow, which elicited astonishment from my nephew Sam, who didn’t know his aunt was Scottish. I think I’ll leave him thinking she’s Scottish – at least until he reads this.

On Wednesday evening we went to a Norfolk and Norwich Festival concert at St Andrew’s Hall which was notable on several counts. First, there was a long queue to get in, which in view of the fact that we had paid a considerable amount to get tickets about two months ago, is pretty miserable organisation. It also started nearly 15 minutes late and was about the shortest concert I’ve ever been to, finishing around 45 minutes later. I worked out that it cost us, as a couple, over £1 a minute.

The music – Beethoven’s Pastoral Symphony – was good, by  Spira Mirabilis from Italy, who operate without a conductor and are extremely excitable, as you might expect. But I thought it poor return for the money invested and was rather disgruntled. We went home and watched an episode of Lewis, which was much better value.

During the power cut on Monday Phil and Joy lent us a flask of boiling water. I walked up to their house yesterday to return the flask (a convenient distance). Trying to keep my blood pressure down.

Keeping it all going

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Kevin, Lisa and Matthew Potter with grandson David. Not a great picture.

Bit of a delay there. A lot going on: amid all the preparation for our holiday, I’ve written a new poem, entered poems for two separate poetry competitions, updated my website with quite a protracted piece and written up lengthy minutes from the DCC meeting last Wednesday. That’s quite apart from real life, which has included another ground-out chess win, this time in 66 moves, and taking my car to be serviced, MOTd and have its rear brake pads replaced: it turned out to be the most expensive service, and with the renewal of Mazda Assistance came to well over £400, just when I didn’t need the expense. I say “real life”, but of course that’s open to dispute.

The DCC meeting included much about keeping the church hall going: our new cleaner had several suggestions, some of which we have adopted. Howard was a key figure: he worked with the cleaner on the suggestions and also with a guy who surveyed the hall for longer-term work required. Unfortunately for some reason Howard didn’t turn up to the meeting and couldn’t be contacted, which hampered us somewhat. Still don’t know what happened.

On Thursday Mark and Naomi Tuma came round for a meal. I knew Mark a bit, but Naomi hardly at all, so it was a time for life stories. Discovered Naomi was Scottish, from the west coast near Oban. Good conversation: I don’t have to say Dot’s food was excellent, so I won’t. But it was. Incidentally, while on the subject of mouths, one of my teeth has been giving me a bit of trouble, so I’ve booked to see the dentist tomorrow. Not painful, but feels as if it could become painful, which is unsettling when you’re about to go to Canada.

On Friday had lunch with Keiron Pim at the Wine Cellar on Guildhall Hill. A while since I’d seen him; he is a former of trainee of mine who has recently won a well-deserved award as East Anglian feature writer of the year. He is a beautiful writer and is interested in the same things as I am: he plays blues guitar and is also books editor at the EDP. He has a little girl of 16 months and is married to another of my trainees, Rowan. Wine Cellar a very nice spot; had an excellent Spanish omelette which, together with a substantial meal at home in the evening, got me rather worried about my weight. On discovering that it was indeed up a few pounds I went for a three-mile walk on Saturday morning before meeting Dot in the city and buying a suitcase. This seemed to help (especially the suitcase), as I have now lost a bit, despite having David and the grandchildren up from Saturday evening till Sunday evening. Or maybe because of… Oliver and Amy in very energetic mode; we were joined by Kevin, Lisa and Matthew for the Sunday afternoon, and it was good to see them again. All seem well, and the grandchildren have had good school reports. Amy making excellent progress on writing and reading, and Oliver doing well at his times tables, coached by Dot. (The difference between professional coaching and what I would have done was all too apparent and good to see.) David switched Dot’s photos to my machine so she has some space on her laptop. We spent some time looking at old Lenton family photographs on Apple TV. Some of them were new to both David and Dot. Not sure how that happened.

On the Saturday Dot had had coffee with Anne, who has invited us to a celebration meal for Philip’s 70th birthday at the Swan in Southwold on April 24. This is a disaster, as it is the same weekend that we are seeing the Coomes, in a much-postponed London visit. Not sure what to do about it.

While walking on Saturday I visited the Rosary and noticed that Dorothy’s gravestone was missing. After much hunting around I realised it must have been removed to have Thelma’s name put on it. Either that or Dorothy was a double agent and all traces of her existence are being removed. I favour the former explanation. Now into our final week before leaving the country and still waking up in the night and thinking about what needs to be done.