Tag Archives: elliott

Last man standing in poetry marathon

A chilly and wet day today: a foretaste of autumn. But most days are still warm and summery; so we can’t complain. Yesterday afternoon we had drinks in the garden with Anne, who departs for a Mediterranean cruise on Thursday, hoping not to be confused with Libyan migrants. In the evening Dot and I went to the cinema and saw Trainwreck in the company of a largely young and female audience. We guessed we were not the target market, but it was nevertheless a very funny and rewarding film, with some wonderful dialogue.

Earlier in the day we extracted a large amount of bedding, mainly in the form of duvets and pillows, from the loft, spruced it all up a bit and took it to the Jubilee Hall (next to St Luke’s on Aylsham Road) for the benefit of some Congolese people who are gathering there in preparation for the funeral of two cousins who drowned in Thorpe Marshes nature reserve. The boy, aged 11 was called Bonheur and lived in The Lathes. The church gave his family £200 on Sunday toward expenses surrounding the funeral.

Later on Sunday Dot and I went to Walpole Old Chapel, near Halesworth, for the annual poetry reading. It was almost too well attended, because the reading started at 5pm and didn’t finish till well after 8.30pm. I was scheduled to read last, which – viewed in pop music terms – has to be good. It was a bit of a marathon, though, despite the half-time drinks and cake, and by the time I got to read it was not only extremely chilly but also nearly dark. There was only one light in the chapel. Still, we hung in there, despite the counter-attraction of a bird that got in and couldn’t get out, and I got a pretty enthusiastic  reception. They even laughed at my jokes. I read three newish poems: After Sun, A Train Approaches and Proof of Heaven.

Elliott makes himself at home in the garden
Elliott makes himself at home in the garden

Proceeding backwards, on Saturday Sam and Lucy came round with Elliott, and went into the garden, where Elliott had a great time pulling flowers apart and transferring stones into places they shouldn’t be. Dot got out David’s old train set and a tractor, both of which Elliott played with and then departed with. Meanwhile Norwich City scored their first win in the Premiership, beating Sunderland 3-1 away.

Earlier last week the main event was the arrival of Adrian and Clarissa by boat on Wednesday. We had a call from them while Dot and I were at Jessie’s in North Walsham. I was on my way to a Paston assignation, but Dot was on her way home after visiting Peter at Cromer for some p4c film editing. Dot dropped in on Adrian after she got back – as did Roger, who also been at North Walsham – and I completed the party when I arrived back from the Paston event. Good to see them: they had Menna’s three girls with them – Maddy, Olivia and Isabel. All delightful, especially Maddy, the oldest.

The following morning they came up for coffee and biscuits before departing for the city as Dot left for the dentist. They had a packed programme. In the last two days they had to get the boat back to Potter Heigham, via Breydon Water, visit Yarmouth (don’t ask me why) and call in on Jessie.

The Paston event mentioned consisted of an informal trustees’ meeting with food (mackerel pate) in the rather chilly garden of the Ship Inn at Mundesley, followed by tea and coffee at Lucy’s. She is not too good, since her last-ditch cancer treatment provoked an allergic reaction. It is hard to say how bad she is, because she always seems to come back strongly, but she didn’t feel well enough to proceed with Rob, Peter and myself to Bacton village hall, where we met the Bacton Historical Society with a view to their helping us in our NHL bid. We got an encouraging reception, and enjoyed a 40 min tape of Bacton people reminiscing about previous times. It was much more interesting than it sounds.

Beginning of the end of an era

The sea encroaching at Salthouse
The sea encroaching at Salthouse

Significant week in the history of St Augustine’s.  We had our annual meeting on Tuesday – excellent food from Karen & Co as usual – and a good talk from visitor Keith Elliott, representing Inclusive Church, which the parish is thinking of joining. Then Nicholas dropped his bombshell – he and his family are leaving, and going to Aspen, Colorado, some time in the summer.

Actually, we already knew this, but most of the people present didn’t, and there was a bit of a stunned silence, followed by a few nice things being said. Obviously things will be difficult in the interregnum, but I think it’s the right move for him.

Mr Elliott was staying the night with us. I’d already walked him up to the Cathedral in the afternoon, and he was a considerate guest. We also felt we were on his wavelength. The next morning Nicholas came round to have a chat with him, and after a walk on his own Keith joined us for a cold lunch, during which the man came to service the burglar alarm. Not great timing, but he was very pleasant, and things went smoothly.

In the afternoon Rob and Caroline came round for a Chronicle read-through and discussion. I have a bit of reorganisation to do on the Oxnead script, as well as some design work on the forthcoming book. Time marches on: I’m a bit worried that it won’t get done in time, but I expect it will.

On Thursday evening we went to Claire’s for dinner after a day of wondering whether she’d remembered or not: she ignored an e-mail and didn’t answer her phone, but in fact all was well and we had an excellent meal.

All week a Toys R Us trolley had been languishing on the pavement outside, and we’d been a bit worried it might end up being pushed into our car, or someone else’s. Eventually I worked up the energy to push it through the city and back to its base. It was heavy and had a bit of a mind of its own (especially downhill), but I took it up Prince of Wales Road, Queen Street, St Andrew’s and down Westwick Street and left it outside the shop. On the way back I spoke to a Big Issue seller who had been a trolley boy in Hamilton, outside Glasgow, and used to fetch back trolleys that customers had taken home. That’s what we need here.  He was against independence but wasn’t allowed to vote because he didn’t live in Scotland.

In the evening Linda cancelled our hair appointment again, and we are rescheduled for next Wednesday. Tonight we were due to have Fred and Sue to stay before the CNS reunion event tomorrow, but they have cancelled too for family reasons, though they’re hoping to come down tomorrow morning. This morning Maryta and Paul called in for coffee while looking at two more houses, their original vendor having created problems. They have the kind of schedule  that makes our hectic ones seem positively sedentary.

Elliott makes his entrance

Elliott getting the measure of his father
Elliott getting the measure of his father

Funny few days. Haven’t been feeling particularly well, but not sure why. Today my stomach feels odd, but I hope to be well enough to go to Caddington this afternoon.

On Wednesday, after Dot had been to Park Farm and I had been for a short walk, we went to the Queen’s Head in Hethersett for lunch, and I had a sort of brunch. Slow service, but the food was good. Dot dropped me off in St Augustine’s afterwards, and I paid the church cheques in at the TSB, then walked home. Felt completely flaked out when I arrived. Weather was quite mild – maybe I was too warm!

Yesterday we had two unexpected visitors (in the sense that we only knew about them shortly before they arrived). First came the Hendersons, who are on the verge of buying a house on Ipswich Road: Dot felt the call to make some rock cakes, which were very nice. Then my great-nephew Elliott made an appearance, accompanied by his parents. They are staying with Phil and Joy.

Elliott is a bit of a star, with a lovely smile, and I took some quite reasonable photos, together with some very bad ones.

Earlier in the day I wrote a new poem and sent it and a couple of others off to competitions. I don’t know why I keep doing this: they hardly ever do anything, and it means I can’t publish them until the competition is over. Still, you have to keep trying.

We keep watching the winter Olympics, but I can’t take many of the events seriously. In my view anything that gets style marks is not a sport.