Tag Archives: football

Christmas unwrapped

An old slide of Dot in the early 1970s with out Fiat 500.
An old slide of Dot in the early 1970s with our Fiat 500 – or was it 600?

Midnight Communion on Christmas Eve was a lovely service, but by the time we emerged at around 12.30 on Christmas morning it was pouring with rain and pretty cold, so my task of fixing notices to the gates and locking them for Christmas Day proved rather less than straightforward, especially as I had to wait until everyone had passed through before locking them.

Christmas Day was – well, Christmas Day, and of course we spent most of it unwrapping, cooking and eating. It was lovely having David and the children with us. Boxing Day was also fun, if a little less frantic. David, Oliver and I went to see Norwich lose 2-1 to Fulham while Dot and Amy went to see Frozen at the cinema. The weather was sunny but cold, though relatively still in between the storms that hit different parts of the country both before  and after Christmas.

On the 27th we had invited Richard Beales and his daughters, Maddison and Darcy, for lunch (chicken curry), and we had a lovely time with them. The children got on well – Oliver (nice boy that he is) looking after Darcy (4) and Amy playing with Maddison (6) after the latter had got over an initial burst of shyness. We found out a lot of background stuff about Richard and the business, and he and David got on well. All of them left at about the same time – around 7.15pm.

The children transferred to Vicky the following day after she had returned from Ireland in a Force 11 gale, but not before they had gone with David to Heathrow to meet Chrissy, who is staying with him for a few days.

I was up fairly early on Saturday to go and fetch Andrew from Coventry. Didn’t feel too well on the way over (I think the fried potato was starting to go off) and the traffic was heavy, so it took about three hours, with a stop at Cambridge Services. The journey back, which ended just after dark, was a bit quicker, and we managed to get home just before the football crowds emerged from Carrow Road, with Norwich having achieved a double home Christmas failure, losing 1-0 to Manchester United.

Yesterday we took Andrew to St Augustine’s for a really nice service led by Phil, with Carrie preaching. Dot read, and I did the prayers. Andrew had a long conversation with Harriet – not sure what about, but probably him – and Anandi and David were there: they are house-sitting for Howard and Anna, who are in Burma with Nicola and Beth. At least, we think they are: they didn’t take their phones.

On the way home we called in to see Joy and Phil, who were under the impression Andrew wasn’t coming home till the next day. Andrew had some presents for them. We stayed only short while because Joy was clearly tired.

In the afternoon Andrew and I walked up to the Rosary, and I was delighted to find that the flowers I’d put on Mum and Dad’s grave before Christmas were still there, despite the strong winds and rain in between. Andrew cleared the area of fallen branches, and we visited one or two other graves of well-known names from the past.

We will leave for Coventry after early lunch today. I am about to go out and get some money for Andrew, and perhaps a present for the staff at Minster Lodge. Louise Robinson has left her car in the drive while she goes to the sales in London. Her idea of heaven (I quote) and mine of hell.

After the storm surge

 

P1110228
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.

The kitten and the rabbit

Geoff sitting in his garden at Rockland
Geoff sitting in his garden at Rockland

I am now backed up. I have an external hard drive . If only that were true: in fact it is the computer that is backed up, now being linked to Time Machine, as it was designed to be. I myself am struggling along with the same old operating system that is showing signs of wear and tear. And I can’t get back to what I used to do.

I can’t even see very well, because I have new varifocal glasses that are designed to be clear in three different ways, but are in fact unclear in at least three, probably more. This morning I had to put my old reading glasses on to read the paper.

Oh, well. I’ve managed to walk about four miles today – mainly to the Norfolk Record Office to hear a talk by Elizabeth McDonald on “Books the Pastons Read”. Similar to the one she did at Dragon Hall, but not the same. Quite interesting, as Stephen Fry might say.

Last night we had a mammoth PCC meeting to discuss the increase in the parish share and how we were going to meet it. One of those dreadful meetings where you wish you were somewhere else. If church is about raising money, I’m not interested. I have a meeting scheduled with the new treasurer for the parish, one Susannah McGuire. I was relieved to find that she probably knows less about church accounting than I do. Sadly, that is not much.  I warmed to her.

Earlier, before I got my non-focal glasses, I had a visit from Adrian Bell, the potential publisher of our tanka book. He seemed reasonably impressed. It’s just about done; I’m now waiting to hear from him what other information he needs to go in it, such as price, and whether it should have a spine – which is about as ironic as you can get.

After the piano tuner left (see last post) I went out to Rockland to see Geoff. The weather was pretty cold, but dry, and he was keen to walk in the garden. So we did it. A little unsteady, but in the circumstances remarkable. He had his carer, Lisa, with him, and she was lovely – made tea and provided (Sophie’s) fruit cake.

Next day (Friday) I went out to see Lucy, who continues to recover slowly from her cracked ribs. She has a personal assistant (carer) called Priscilla, who is also lovely. The two of us tried to put up a washing line in the garden: she was much better at it than me. She is also gradually organising the house, which will be interesting. Meanwhile the kitten and the rabbit have a peculiar relationship: the kitten puts its paw through the bars of the rabbit cage and touches the rabbit, which ignores it. Doesn’t try to get out of the way – just ignores it.

Which is what I wish I’d done with the idea to employ a UEA intern for the Paston Heritage Society. This has now reached a ridiculous stage, with the lad doing very little work but clocking up huge numbers of hours. We received a bill from the UEA which Lucy is refusing to pay. Anna is very worried. I am now retiring from the conflict and letting them get on with it, which is a pity, as they’re both friends. At the moment.

On Saturday it was still cold , but Dot and I had tickets for Norwich v West Ham. In fact we had three tickets, so we invited Phil, who called round by chance the previous afternoon. City played very badly in the first half, so at half time I predicted we would win 3-1. Amazingly, we did. I am now regarded as a prophet. I am without honour in my own country, of course.

Knee-deep in the season’s activities

David and Bridget Archer – providers of fish and chips

I think Christmas is here. At least, we seem knee-deep in all the activities associated with the Christmas season, and a few others too. Not much time to stop and think since my last post.

On Friday we had the traditional Archant pensioners’ Christmas lunch in the traditional hotel, with the traditional rain outside. Quite a pleasant meal: sat with Su, Brian and Julie Bedson, and we were joined by new EDP/EN editor Nigel Pickover, who was his usual expansive self. I have to admit that I quite like him. I said this to Su, and she retorted that I liked everyone, which is not true but a nice thing to say (I think). I was served tea by my first cousin once removed – Lewis (Kitsune Le’) Lenton, who is Mark’s son, an artist and a bit out there. Still, he was tuned in enough to introduce himself, which was nice.

In the evening of the same day we went to a drinks and nibbles evening at the vicar’s. I spent much of the time talking to Melissa Snell: we are very much on the same wavelength, except that she is in love with Bolivia. Also spoke to her husband Simon and to Margaret Comerford. Quite an odd evening, because there were many people there who I didn’t speak to at all. Dot struck up a conversation with a teacher who may have persuaded her to join a music group where she will be able to play her violin.

On Saturday Dot and I went to see Norwich beat Wigan 2-1. Go0d match, which we deserved to win. Our recent record is now second only to Barcelona in the top five European leagues, and we’re eighth in the Premiership. Ran into Peter Franzen (former EDP editor) for the second day running, which is a bit excessive. Weather was not too bad, but I wore lots of clothes, just in case.

Sunday saw the usual Christmas event at St Augustine’s, designed and organised by myself. We were pretending in a rather halfhearted way to be a radio programme, and there was some appropriate dialogue as well as carols, readings and poems. Everyone was very appreciative, which is the nice thing about St Augustine’s. It was followed by our Christmas meal: most people contributed, and it was very good.

Sue and Roger Eagle came round for lunch on Monday: they are really good company, and we have much in common. Had far too much to eat and have been feeling overfull ever since. As a result decided not to go to the Christmas chess event; flaked out and watched a bit of Battlestar Galactica instead.

It was all go yesterday, and fortunately the weather was fine. We started by picking up Dot’s glasses from Little Plumstead school (her gloves are at Barnham Broom, or possibly Diocesan House by now) and then drove to North Walsham for tea and sausage rolls with Jessie. We then proceeded to Sainsbury’s and bought flowers for the cemetery, from where we moved on to Sheila’s. She seemed pretty well, though a little vague on some matters. More sausage rolls, and a mince pie too. From there we went to Rosie’s, where we had ginger wine. Rosie is in quite a bit of pain with her back but is as determined as ever to carry on doing what she always has: in this instance making 175 wreaths for customers and friends.

In the evening, and far from traditionally, we had Tuesday Group fish and chips, supplied by the Archers but eaten at ours. The usual suspects tucked in enthusiastically. Added excitement was provided by Ian, who had locked himself out and spent much of the evening trying to contact his sister, who has a key. Eventually the Archers gave him a lift to Cringleford, where said sister lives, and deposited him there. It was unclear whether he was staying or whether his brother-in-law was going to be able to (a) find the key and (b) take him home.

Today has been fairly mild. We had our hair cut, and Dot left for Barbara’s. I then almost forgot to pick up Philip to take him for his benefits assessment, but Joy rang and reminded me. This took two trips, because as usual they kept him waiting a long time. In between I posted  a package and sorted out the church cheques for paying in. After picking Phil and Joy up and taking them home (dropping in at Surrey Chapel to leave some cards) I returned home and left immediately for the city, where I paid in those cheques and took a Christmas parcel to Dipples, receiving one in return! Quite chilly by the time I got home. Dot has just rung to say she is on her way back.

Suns on website, clouds in sky

David and Kristine Coomes during their recent visit. Dot is pointing out local landmarks from St James Hill. At least, I assume that’s what she’s doing.

England duly exited Euro 2012 by managing to stop Italy scoring for 120 minutes but then, as usual, losing on penalties. The guilty players on this occasion were b0th called Ashley, which should have been warning enough. Young hit the bar and Coles’ effort was saved comfortably. Last night Spain beat Portugal on penalties after another 0-0, with Portugal playing above themselves and Ronaldo doing the opposite: he didn’t even take a penalty (one assumes he was meant to go fifth, but it didn’t get that far).

We’ve had some warmer temperatures, but the BBC is having trouble coping, today their website has golden suns all over it for Norfolk, but it’s cloudy and looking as though the threatened “showery rain, sometimes heavy” might well materialise. Hopefully it’s a bit sunnier in London, where Dot and Anne are having fun (one assumes).

Spoke on Sunday about being people after God’s own heart and not worrying about superficial issues: seemed to be well received. Monday night’s PCC was genial and quick, with only Dot and I representing St Aug as usual.

The other major meeting this week was yesterday afternoon: the Paston Trustees. The four of us who made it (Rob was working in London) got through the agenda in about a couple of hours, which I suppose is not bad. Lucy is in one of her rare “quite well” phases, but Jo is looking ill and showing no sign of cutting down on her work: offered the chance of giving the Pensthorpe event a miss this year, she was determined to do it. However, she does want to step down from the not-very-onerous job of being chairperson, so I volunteered Rob in his absence and also offered to help with the newsletter. If Rob isn’t keen, I may get the chair as well.

I arrived early so Lucy took me up on to the roof to see her alpine garden. Impressive, as is the view, especially on a still and warm day. A few inches higher and they would be able to see the sea. Apparently.

 

I don’t really have time for this

Dot pauses by Shrieking Pits on the way to Hungry Hill, between Northrepps and Overtsrand

The old joke is that this doesn’t seem like a new year – it seems like one we’ve used before. But of course it is new, and everything in it is new, which I suppose is reassuring. Today is bright and still after severe storms, and I’ve just returned from the doctor, who told me my blood test results were A1 and my PSA level below 0.1, though I do have slightly high blood pressure. Well, who doesn’t?

Poor old Julia is in much worse condition, having broken and dislocated her ankle in a restaurant fall in Lapland before breakfast on New Year’s Eve. Very painful, and hard for everyone, with clinic visit, ankle manipulation and making sure she was fit enough to travel home the next day. She had an operation in hospital at Nottingham and will be in plaster for six weeks; it will be a year before she’s fully recovered. The word “fully” is flexible, since it covers a plate and screws in her ankle. We were due to be walking together in Derbyshire at the end of this month: that clearly won’t happen; we’ll have to wait and see whether we meet there or not. I suspect not.

Reverting to much more trivial matters, Dot and I used the Robinsons’ tickets to go to Carrow Road on New Year’s Eve and saw Norwich score in the last minute to draw 1-1 with Fulham. Not the best game ever, but much excitement at the death! Happily the weather was relatively mild at the time, but it’s been much colder and wilder since.

After Communion the next day we went out to see Jessie, who invited us to stay for high tea. This worked well, since we had been cancelled the second night in succession, with Anna suffering from migraine. Would have been awkward if we’d been committed to the Greens’ and offered tea by Jessie as well, with the table already set! Roger and his girlfriend Liz arrived later in the afternoon (we’d got there before 3pm) and we had a very pleasant time – Liz is in PR and publishing, and so we had much in common.

Our third evening booking in succession did survive: we met Heather, Simon and Sam in the Plough on St Benedict’s on Monday and later moved to the Clipper Indian restaurant for an excellent meal. Had a great time with them, as always.

Dot and I have decided to book ourselves a day a week together, and the first occurred on Wednesday, when we started off in Aylsham, looking at some vinyl flooring which may have been superseded by John Lewis (we’ll see), had lunch at the Old Tea Rooms in the town and then drove to Overstrand, where we tackled one of the walks the Coast Partnership had sent me for checking. It turned out to be one we’d done some years ago, but it was very enjoyable despite the cold weather: about four miles inland and then back to the coast. To complete a very full day, I went to a long meeting of the Paston trustees in the evening and was so late back that Dot had begun to worry about my safety – by this time the winds were very strong, and they continued strong through yesterday, which included the John Lewis visit.

In the midst of all this busyness – I still have to write a sermon, choose some hymns, turn my latest Little story into a book and write a new story for Amy, among other things – I have managed to write a poem. Unfortunately, it is not one of the five poems I have to write in response to pictures Ian sent me. I don’t really have time to write this blog. Oh dear, too late not to.

Limping towards the end of the year

It’s the last day of the year, and half-hearted grey rain is just about managing to fall from a half-hearted grey sky. It’s as if the year is struggling to make it to the end and may not quite get there. Dot and I are on our own. David is still in Caddington, where he has revamped the children’s rooms (viewed on Facetime), and I believe Oliver and Amy are returning from Lapland some time today. Our projected New Year’s Eve dinner with the Robinsons has been called off because Philip is unwell, but as compensation we have two Robinson tickets for Norwich v Fulham this afternoon (Norwich lost 2-0 to Spurs on Dec 27 – see last post).

I have just had a letter complaining that Siemens have been unable to effect entry to our property to check our gas meter and making vaguely threatening noises about applying to the court for a warrant. This is nonsense, as as far as I’m aware they haven’t made any attempt to look at the meter. When I rang them they couldn’t change their unilaterally arranged visit because their system was down. I think I shall apply to the court for a warrant to ensure that I have access to their system. Or I may ring back later.

Oddly, I don't have a usable picture of Dot's Uncle Frank, who died this week, but this is Oliver and Jessie during our visit there last week. Oliver is sitting in Frank's chair.

Sadly, we have lost a family member over Christmas: Dot’s Uncle Frank, who has been suffering from Alzheimer’s for years, died of pneumonia at Wroxham late on Wednesday. I had to travel to Coventry with Phil to take Andrew back on the Thursday, but Dot went out in the evening to spend some time with her aunt, and we’re visiting her tomorrow afternoon.

The journey to Coventry went smoothly enough, though the weather was indifferent: after leaving Andrew we stopped for a meal at the usual Chef on the way back. While he was with us in Norwich we took him to buy some new clothes (mainly underwear), and we made the customary trips to Dunston Common and the Rosary  – where David, Dot, Oliver, Amy and I had put some flowers on Dad and Mum’s grave earlier. I also took him on a drive to Loddon, Hardley, Langley, Claxton, Rockland, Bramerton and Wood’s End, where the skies were clear and the place was deserted. Beautiful sunset seen from Hardley, where we also visited a very cold church. Andrew himself was OK much of the time, but finds it difficult to deal with change in routine, so in future we may more often visit him in Coventry and take him out for drives, rather than transplant him to Norwich. He has few remaining acquaintances here.

I should mention that during his visit Phil brought Sam and Lucy round, and Sam gave me a copy of his new book, It was the tree’s fault – a collection of monologues.

Last night Dot and I ventured out into the rain to go to the cinema, where we saw the new version of Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, which was riveting, though disturbingly violent in places. Daniel Craig and his co-star Rooney Mara – in fact, all the cast – were sharp and compelling.

Dot is still suffering from problems with dizziness – a particularly bad bout while washing her hair this morning – and will have to go back to the doctor. Happily, she is not feeling ill in between the bouts, which are not frequent.

Cold and misty landscape

The stunning village of Kersey, in Suffolk

Lots going on, as you might expect for the time of year, and more travelling too. Last Saturday Dot and I went with Phil to watch Norwich City lose 2-0 to Portsmouth. Actually, that’s not why we went – we went to see them win, but I suppose our run of seeing only victories had to end some time. Phil came because Jonathan had three spare tickets. Quite a pleasant day, but it got cold rapidly after darkness fell.

Huge amounts to to take to church on Sunday, what with Christmas presents and music stands, and it was one of those mornings where things did not run smoothly. Nevertheless, an excellent talk from Mark Heybourne and a good atmosphere, with Howard leading. Dot was playing at a Julian Window music and meditation event later, and I picked her up so that she could come home and change before going (driven by Heather Cracknell) to an evening meal (cheeses,quince jelly, beef wellington) with the Archers at the home of the Greens, who must come close to being the perfect hosts. Lovely food and intelligent conversation, with plenty of humour.  And Bridget drove us home, so I didn’t have to watch my wine consumption too carefully.

Highlight of Monday was my chess win for Dons B against a player ranked well above me. I didn’t play the opening well and got into a position where I had to sacrifice the exchange for a pawn to avoid losing my queen. But after that he played too passively and got into bad time trouble: I got a really nice attack and sacrificed a knight which won against anything really, but with seconds left he played the worst line, and walked into a mate. Satisfying, but not the prefect game by any means. We lost the match 3-1.

On Tuesday Dot and I ventured into Suffolk again. Dot left fairly early for Metfield, where she spent much of the day planning for a P4C event at Dulwich College Prep School in January. After rushing around preparing in various ways for Christmas, I joined her late in the afternoon, after nearly losing the MX5 in a skid on mud near Harleston. I would say it was beautifully controlled, but there was nothing very beautiful about it: I just reacted instinctively and apparently did the right thing, since I was still on the road at the end of it. We left the MX5 at Metfield and drove to Little Waldingfield, near Sudbury, after a tortuous, dark drive down the A143 in a tail behind a huge lorry doing a constant 40mph. In the end we took an alternative route and heard on the radio immediately afterwards that we had avoided a big hold-up. Still not easy, though, and even after we got to Little Waldingfield (after taking the wrong road out of Lavenham because of a misleading map) we took ages to find the B&B. I walked up and down the main street, then we looked at the directions and found that the place was far from where the computer postcode-generated map indicated it would be. All got a bit tense, but the place itself was fine, though not nearly as grand as it seemed on the web.

Our B&B at Little Waldingfield: hard to find, but a nice breakfast

The following day there was ice on the windscreen, and after an excellent breakfast I had to scrape around before dropping Dot at Great Waldingfield School, which left me about seven hours to fill. I returned to the B&B for a bath and cup of tea, then ventured out into a cold, misty landscape that had nothing very appealing about it at first. First stop was Lavenham Church, where I talked to a couple of people, including a guy burning solidified candle wax off a candle holder. The previous night we had dined at the Swan Inn (excellent fish and chips, ate too much) and met another guy who was staying at our B&B. He had mentioned the window at Lavenham Church and told us about a man who had shown him the sunset through it, which he describesad an unforgettable experience – “as if it was on fire”. It turned out that the candle-burning guy was the man he had met. What are the chances of that happening? Well, reasonably high, because he was the verger, but still unexpected.

After this I drove into the middle of Lavenham and walked briefly, but it was very cold. So I drove to Kersey, a village recommended on a leaflet I’d bought at the church. It was truly stunning: a long narrow street running down steeply on both sides into a valley, with a ford running through. I drove right through and up to the church, where I stopped briefly. Very nice feeling to the whole area. Not far away I stopped at the 13th century St James’s Chapel, which was bare and cold, but atmospheric. Wanting to warm up I drove into Sudbury, then back to Lavenham, where I bought a cheese baguette and took it back to a viewpoint not far from the chapel, where I ate and read for a while. Afterwards I drove on again through beautiful countryside (despite the damp and mucky weather) and even found Kettlebaston, home of one of Dot’s college friends. Unfortunately I also found lots of mud, stemming from the sugar beet harvesting going on nearby. When we got home later I had to get the car cleaned, as well as checking the tyres and replenishing the screen-wash.

After hearing from Dot that she would be finished by 4pm, I paid a brief visit to Long Melford, but it was getting too dark to see much, so I returned to wait for Dot, who had unsurprisingly found the school outstanding. We drove home by the normal route, but it was tiring, because of the diversion to pick up the MX5 at Metfield, and it was over two hours before we arrived in Norwich.

Today it is raining steadily and we are awaiting icy conditions again, with a threat of a white Christmas on the horizon. I say “threat” because of the difficulty it might cause with travelling for David, the grandchildren and myself. Dot is out doing a bit of essential shopping: picking up some table coverings for church, mainly. I’ve just finished another poem, which I’m quite pleased with. After a period of writing nothing much, I’ve written several in the past few weeks. Quite exciting. For me, not for anyone else.

Walking from the Ship

three walkers
Dave, Julia and Dot look back towards the sea during our walk near Brancaster

Very warm and quite busy few days, especially for Dot, who has completed a church school inspection at East Rudham, looked round a vicar’s garden at West Raynham and actually completed the report in time for us to leave for Blakeney early on Friday afternoon. This was for our annual reunion session with the Evetts and with Alan and Rosemary – the remaining six of an initial 13 of us, back at the turn of the century. It turned out to be probably the best weather so far, if measured in terms of heat. Shortly after our arrival we went for a walk along the river, but soon headed back to the Blakeney Hotel for our traditional tea and scones in the upstairs lounge, with a nice view across the estuary. We were in fact staying at the Manor Hotel as usual, which is about half as expensive and much more than half as good. Our room had been refurbished, and the food was of  a pretty high standard as always. I had a lamb shank on the first night (Murray, eat your heart out) and a sirloin steak on the second.

On the Saturday Dave, Julia, Dot and I drove to Brancaster Ship Hotel, which has been beautifully refurbished. We had tea and coffee there before heading out on our walk, which I took from Ralph (Will) Martin’s Pub Strolls book. He suggested it was 3½ miles, but this is a typical RM underestimate: we measured 4½, and we missed out a short section at the beginning. True, we did walk round an additional field, but it certainly wasn’t a mile in circumference. We were trying to find Branodunum, the Roman settlement, at the time, but it appears to be invisible (if that’s not an oxymoron). On the plus side, it was an excellent walk, though we were pretty warm by the time we got back to the Ship for our Light Bite lunch, which was exotic and delicious. I had a fried duck egg with some shrimps and mustard. We called in at Big Blue Sky on the way back and discovered they had sold four of the ten poetry books of mine they bought a couple of years ago. Yippee!

On the Sunday we went to Cookie’s for lunch, but not before Dot and I had taken another stroll by the river and called in on Godfrey Sayers, a rather good landscape artist who has a regular caravan display slot on the carnser. He used to be fan of my EDP column (no accounting for taste) and we had been corresponding by e-mail recently. Dot introduced me to him, and we had a pleasant chat. At Cookie’s I nearly took Julia’s leg off when I drove off while she was still getting out of the car, but she not only survived but stopped the door hitting anything too. What a hero! Yes, very clumsy on my part: I thought I’d heard three doors slam, but clearly I hadn’t.

We drove the Evetts back to their car at the Manor Hotel, and this time let them get out completely before driving off back to Norwich, in plenty of time for the World Cup match between a team purporting to represent England and what my late mother-in-law would have called “some foreign team”. Yes, it was England v Germany again, and I have rarely seen England play so badly. Whatever you say about the manager or the system, you have to question why the players can’t keep the ball, can’t ever beat an opposition player, can’t tackle and can’t shoot. In the end I was hoping Germany would win 6-1. They only managed four, and admittedly England were laughably deprived of a goal because the referee and linesman didn’t notice the ball was about a metre over the line (that is not hyperbole). But then again in the next match Mexico laughably conceded a goal against Argentina which was so obviously offside that you wondered if the officials were at the same game. That’s sport for you. The good thing about the English result was that the fans could not even be outraged, we were so bad.

Here comes that fuzzy feeling (and it ain’t right)

robin limmer
Flashback to Adam & Eve: Robin Limmer, with Groucho Marx in background

Feeling a bit fuzzy today: have contracted another UTI and have prescribed myself some antibiotics, which make me feel tired. On the other hand, I haven’t had a full night’s sleep for about five days (no apparent reason) – so it could be that. Otherwise OK: I expect the UTI to retire hurt in a day or two. Today took a trip to Bally to have a chat with Annette and Rupert about the future of InPrint. Turned out pretty positively. We will probably be a tighter (=smaller) group and make more use of the website to publicise individual activities as well as collaborative ones. I think we’re all a bit too busy to take on another big collaborative venture at this point, though Rupert has some interesting ideas about the Great Yarmouth Museum archive. I need to rewrite the “about” page and revise the membership list. I have also landed the job of editing a short novel for a local woman, so I am earning a little money.

Not playing chess tonight, because my opponent called off, but I might wander up to the club later on to see what’s about, as my father-in-law used to say. I did play last Thursday for the C team in curious circumstances. They have five members, but three of them can’t play on Thursdays. So Greg and I were drafted in as guests on boards one and two in a bid to save the team from relegation! I won quite a nice game, which meant we needed one more point from the other three. Greg got a draw, but Norman lost what should have been a drawn position and our fourth member didn’t turn up!! So 1½-2½, and third division here we come. Or there they go, to be ruthless about it. Absent member may not be popular.

Other promotion and relegation issues: Norwich City made sure of promotion on Saturday when they beat Charlton 1-0 away. Cue wild rejoicing, mainly from Dot. Good sport weekend for a change, because Spurs beat Chelsea 2-1, and Button and Hamilton came first and second in the rain-hit Shanghai Grand Prix. More excellent tactics.

Last Wednesday Jessie ventured forth from her North Walsham enclave and came here for an evening meal. I met her at the station. Roger and Jude. Jude is active in the field of red hats, as well as various other fields. She is in fact Queen of the Norfolk Broads. I can’t say more, but we had a very good time. On Saturday, another memorable social occasion: we were invited next door for drinks and nibbles. In view of the amount of food available, I would not like to see their version of a full meal. Started in the garden, which was in truth a bit chilly, and we eventually retired to the drawing room. More good conversation, and a bit too much to drink, which was unfortunate, as I was preaching the next morning. However, it turned out all right.

We’ve had some warm weather over the last few days, but today was chillier. Happily not really affected by the no-fly-through-volcano-ash situation which has seen many, many people stranded abroad – and remain hopeful that the volcano will have calmed down by June, when we’re supposed to fly to Italy.