Tag Archives: greens

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.

Resisting the abyss

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Amy, David and Oliver, catch some of the light at the Hendersons' house
Amy, David and Oliver catch some of the light at the Hendersons’ house

The days ticked by, and eventually I got to go to the dentist with my broken back tooth. By the time I got there, it felt perfectly natural to have a broken tooth, but Ross quickly (and for only £130) sorted out the problem, cementing the broken chunk back into place. As there was not nerve in the tooth, it didn’t hurt.  Great idea: teeth without nerves.

To accomplish this, I had to get to the dentist’s at 8.45am – a time I had forgotten existed. I had to plough my way through a whole bunch of commuters and schoolchildren. Afterwards I recycled some Christmas cards, courtesy of M&S, then popped down to the bank to pay in a cheque. This took longer than expected, because on this one day of the week the bank opened at 9.45am. I browsed a bit in Jarrolds, then chatted to a couple of people who were also waiting, and a chirpy little mortgage adviser who wasn’t due to start till 10am but had turned up anyway. I was first in, first out. On the way home I paid the newspaper bill.

While Dot was in town supping coffee with Anne, our friend D from church came round to borrow £10. He had to go to Diss to try to get a job, but couldn’t afford the fare. In the evening Dot and I had a meal at the Bicycle Shop café in St Benedict’s with a couple of sickly Greens. The tapas were excellent, as was the wine and the ambience, and we took a look at the room where we’re planning to do some Julian music later in the year. Not entirely sure about its suitability, but we’ll see.

Anna was getting better, and Howard was getting worse. I myself am feeling decidedly below par and slightly achy but hope I can resist plunging into the abyss, especially as I’ve just written a sermon for Sunday. Was perked up somewhat by sorting out the Apple TV with David’s guidance. It is now functioning well on all cylinders.

Yesterday was a beautiful crisp and sunny day (unlike today, which is gloomy) and we drove out to visit Rosie, who claimed to have a bad cold, but it was undetectable to normal senses, or at least ours. She was chirpy and made us tea and provided us succour in the shape of a touch of brandy and some Christmas cake. Very pleasant visit: we resolved to go more often and to keep in closer touch with people this year.

Little known facts

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We got our first Christmas card today - from this happy couple, photographed in August at the lovely Linn of Quoich.We got our first Christmas card today - from Sue and Roger Eagle, photographed in August at the lovely Linn of Quoich.

Happily Dot arrived back from Liverpool safely after stopping for fish and chips at a pub (the Generous Briton) in Brant Broughton, Lincolnshire. I spent the rest of the week writing an outline for a new Pastons drama for Chronicle (the Pastons in Norwich), among other things. Did very little walking, with or without my app.

Slight recurrence of pain in left side, which I now think may be down to excess acid in my stomach, because I had reduced my lanzoprasole. I have upped it again, and it was better yesterday.

Quite a busy weekend. Discovered at the last minute yesterday that Steve Snelling (a former colleague) was speaking at the Castle at noon on the first world war Christmas  truce of 1914; so rushed up there while Dot was getting some tablets from the chemist. An interesting one-hour talk which revealed some facts little known by me. For example, it happened over quite a long front where the trenches were rudimentary; it was almost entirely instigated by the Germans – for the most part Saxons who were broadly speaking against the war; and senior officers were appalled and threatened dire consequences if it happened again.

Jonathan had offered an extra ticket for Carrow Road; so after lunch Dot and I headed in that direction. It was chilly, but not too bad. The football was pretty dire, though. After scoring in the 9th minute, Norwich City conceded within ten minutes and then again (both from corners). They never really looked like scoring again themselves: set-up and tactics unconvincing; choice of players and substitutions mystifying.

In the evening we went to the Robinsons’ for a meal. Other guests: Bernadette and Barry Hutchings. Was a bit worried about my digestive system, and so took it carefully, but no problem. Very pleasant evening with good conversation.

Yesterday I led the Advent Holy Communion, with Eleanor preaching and presiding. Nice service, though only 15 present. In the evening we went for a meal at the Kerrisons’, giving the Greens a lift. A pleasant time after I had found somewhere to park (about half a mile away, and I’m not exaggerating). Fortunately I’d dropped the others off first. Didn’t find the conversation quite as easy as the previous night; maybe we didn’t have as much in common other than church. Perhaps it’s just random.

On Friday, incidentally, Dot and I made our fist visit to the cinema for some time. We arrived early for the 5.30pm showing of The Imitation Game and went to the Queen of Iceni (Wetherspoons) for a glass of wine, which was surprisingly good and amazingly cheap. I suspect it must have been happy hour or something. The film was excellent – not totally true to the history,  but then it didn’t claim to be. Benedict Cumberbatch and Keira Knightley were both excellent. Today we’re going to see Mr Turner, which everyone has raved about.

Turner, but not Burma

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Poppies at the Tower of London: you can almost see them flowing out of the window.
Poppies at the Tower of London: you can almost see them flowing out of the window.

Quiet week last week, or maybe my memory’s gone. I see to recall attending a private view at the Theatre Royal for Martin Laurance and a couple of other artists (ML impressive as always), but the only person there I knew apart from Martin was Hilary Mellon. Dot was working hard at home: she has quite a lot on at the moment.

We were due to spend the weekend with the Coomes in London, but David was taken ill on the Thursday night with a bad bout of nocturnal epilepsy, which left him in a lot of pain. So instead we arranged to go down on the train for Saturday only and meet Kristine at Liverpool Street. The train was full and we eventually found ourselves sitting next to a very pleasant and interesting couple: the husband was an aerial photographer, and we learnt some intriguing things about CGI and created landscapes. He also showed us some pictures he’d taken from a helicopter of the 800,000 poppies at the Tower of London.

After meeting Kristine we took a tube to Victoria and eventually found a pub-restaurant she’d booked called The Phoenix, which was terrific, and took us although we were 15 minutes late. The food was first-class. We all had sea bass, and Dot and I shared some chips. Afterwards we tubed to Pimlico and walked to the Tate, arriving just before our allotted time of 3pm.

Not sure why galleries have to be so hot. After reaching the second room (of six) I had to go to the loo and take all my clothes off, but I did put my shirt back on again. Extensive show of late Turner paintings, and as I love Turner I could have stayed all day – but it was tiring, and we eventually repaired to the shop and then the cafe.

Kristine stayed on the tube while we changed for London Bridge, where we found it hard to find the river and ended up in the back streets of Bermondsey surrounded by massive construction works. But after inquiring of a construction guy we eventually hit the river by HMS Belfast, where we had a very expensive glass of wine (over £15 for two) on the upper deck of the cafe (not the ship). Still, no doubt we were paying for the view, which was superb.

Afterwards we proceeded to Tower Bridge and walked over it to the Tower of London and its poppies, which even in the dark of early evening were more than impressive. From there we intended to take the tube from Tower Hill to Liverpool Street, but the tube station  was closed, and a notice informed us it was a short walk – which, compared to the West Highland Way, it certainly is. I am used to walking between Liverpool Street and London Bridge, but wasn’t at all sure of myself here, and we had to ask a couple of people, both of whom were extremely helpful.

London seems to be covered by construction work at the moment. However, we made it in time for the 8.30pm train, which again was packed, and we dozed most of the way home.

Our unexpected availability on the Sunday meant we could not only go to church, but also re-insert an abandoned meal with the Greens and Barbara Vidion at our house, during which the visiting trio majored on Burma, where the Greens had just been, and which Barbara was due to travel to. Nothing that was said would have enticed me to visit Burma, but this is no doubt a deficiency on my part.

However, the feeling is shared by Julia Higbee, as was revealed when we visited her and Allan for lunch yesterday at Newton Flotman. Dot drove; so I was able to indulge more than usual, and we had a lovely meal and conversation. Autumn is drawing on, but the weather is good at the moment: crisp and mainly dry, with plenty of sun.

I should mention that on Monday I obtained £300 in dollars as a gift for Nicholas from St Augustine’s congregation. Dot and I delivered it to him in the afternoon, and he was effusively grateful. He is already looking American. While on the theme of travel, Dot and I have just committed to a week in the South of France with Fred and Sue next May, travelling from Luton airport. Fred is making all the arrangements; so I am quietly confident.

Entertained extravagantly

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Birthday girl Annette at sunny Dunwich

I’m writing this as I await the arrival of the gas man – an appointment pinpointed at between 8am and 1pm. It is Andrew’s birthday. Hopefully his presents will have arrived, and I will phone him later.

Again, it has been a busy week. After mentioning that the meal for our last Tuesday Group would be cold because we were both too shattered post-holiday to cook, the Archers and Vicky both volunteered to bring food. In the end we had a curry prepared by Vicky and a nice evening. Tonight’s has been cancelled because we’re going to West Runton to see Fred and Sue.

On Wednesday I had my last session with Sharon. My shoulder is not completely better, but it is much improved. Quite enjoyed a bit of physiotherapy, and I shall miss it.

We were entertained lavishly twice last week: on Friday by the Greens – an evening meal in their garden with Claire and Phil, followed by tea and coffee upstairs in their unique house. Food and wine were in plentiful supply, as was the conversation. A lovely evening.

The following day we were at Dunwich, where we helped Annette celebrate her 50th birthday at the Cliff House holiday park, which is a lot better than it sounds and which her family and friends seemed to have taken over. Annette had a beautiful cottage, others were in tents, and the celebration centred on her mother’s large wooden chalet where, again, food and drink were abundant.

We eventually located the latter by the Liverpool accents and eventually Annette’s distinctive laugh. Guests included Caroline, Martin Laurance and Teri.

Another big day on Sunday. I was preaching at church, and this was followed by a rehearsal for our visit to the Seagull in the evening. In the afternoon we called in to see Phil and Joy with some Scottish marmalade, and updated them on Andrew. The performance at the Seagull went quite well – especially the first half, when we did my new song, The Rolling Hills of Pakefield, and The Man in the Mask. In the second half we did Feels Like I’m Falling Apart, which was fine, and the full version of Bernadette, which was probably too long. However, we got a good response, and I read a couple of poems too. As you will have guessed, the number of performers was not the highest.

Yesterday saw the culmination of house-cleaning and rearranging, thanks to my wife’s almost limitless energy (I suspect she is siphoning off some of mine). I did arouse myself in the afternoon to paint our two gates and was quite pleased with the result. They also survived a thunderstorm a couple of hours later, following which we went to Morrisons to replenish our fast diminishing food supply.

Close to heaven on earth

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David and Chrissy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dot bids for art

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The cake made by Amy and her grandmother (see earlier post)

As February rolls to its end, we roll home from the Sainsbury Centre, where we have been to an art private view and auction, at the invitation of Anna. Wasn’t really looking forward to it, but it was actually a lot of fun. We put in a few bids in the silent auction, but don’t expect to win any of them. Dot bid in the actual auction and went up to £50 before dropping out. Anna and Howard were both there, of course, and so was Nick Castor, who took over my journalism course at UEA in 2006. Nice to see him again.

Unfortunately there were sandwiches and prosecco. Not unfortunate in itself, but we didn’t know that was going to happen and so we took out some lamb chops from the freezer, which we now have to eat. We went by bus, which took nearly an hour from the point where we arrived at the bus stop to the point when we reached the Sainsbury Centre. Half that time coming back of course, but again we did have quite a long wait at the stop.

Yesterday I drove to a Paston trustees’ meeting at Dayspring. Quite nice weather (it’s been reasonable over the last few days, though cold). Lengthy discussions about plans for the year, budgets and particularly the planned DVD and the new website, which is all very exciting but confusing. Today I attempted to do the minutes after editing Lucy’s piece for the newsletter in which she spelt not only the patron’s name wrong, but also the chairman’s – and that’s only four letters (Knee). Still, she’s not well.

I’ve been managing to keep to my 30-minute brisk walks each day (more or less), and as a boost, today I also cleared up a lot of foliage that Dot had cut off the bushes in the front garden. I’m sleeping better too. Still writing tanka with Joy, and she sent some of them to a reviewer she knew, who was quite complimentary.

Bob Brolly and the birthday party

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Katy Wakely with her mother and brother at her 40+ birthday party in Ditchingham village hall

Yes, it is still raining. Funny you should ask. Not surprising, since April is the cruellest month. While I was staying dry by not going out the other day, however, I did make an interesting discovery in the family tree area.

For a long time I had been wondering why my father’s parents were living in Mansfield before they moved to Norwich, since his mother was born in Sheffield, and his father’s family was long established in the area immediately to the west of Peterborough (Yaxley, Normans Cross, Folkesworth…). Then I discovered when looking at newly online records that my grandmother’s parents were not from the Sheffield area: one was born in Shirebrook and the other in Kneesall. What do these two small places have in common? They are near Mansfield. What could be more natural that the newly married couple should go and live either with or near the wife’s parents’ relatives? Well, it makes sense to me.

Meanwhile, back in the 21st century, we had the church annual meeting and dinner at St Luke’s last Tuesday, while Dot was in Thames Ditton, preparing for a philosophy session. Good meal, but a longish “farewell” to John and Jean Easton, who weren’t really going anywhere, but were stepping down from several church posts because they had reached the age of 70. Took Ian and returned with both Ian and Tim Mace, managing to return the jacket TM had left at our house several weeks previously.

On Wednesday a remarkable event that turned out badly for me. I went to the doctor’s surgery to get my blood pressure checked, and arrived a quarter of an hour early, intending to go to the loo and then sit quietly, breathing deeply, until I was called into the surgery about half an hour later if I was lucky. Wouldn’t you know that I was called when I was in the loo, which obviously pushed my blood pressure up, or at least stopped it going down. Very annoying. I am now on another pill, which may be irritating my stomach. I’ve had a couple of bad nights. We shall see. What was remarkable? Being called into the surgery a quarter of an hour early. Almost unheard-of.

Despite the weather I did take part in the Reading the Past in the Landscape walk at Paston on Saturday, which was just as well, since the guy leading it didn’t know the path back from the edge of the cliff. I felt almost useful. Also climbed Stow windmill, which was nice, though greyness restricted the view. Refreshments were at Lucy’s.   The confusion over St Peter Hungate has not been totally resolved, but it’s heading in the right direction. I’ve left Rob sorting out the publicity with Lucy, which seems like a plan, as the Murrays would say.

In the evening we took the Greens to Ditchingham village hall for the 40+ party of Katy Wakeley, who is the granddaughter of our former church member, Maud Lincoln, and sometimes comes to church with her mother Chris. Like Maud, Katy is mainly in a wheelchair: she has ME very badly. She got out of it to cut her cake on this occasion. Chris and Ray were also there with Phyllis, and there was some dancing to an Irish band led by Bob Brolly, which is his real name. He also broadcasts on Midlands radio. They weren’t bad, actually. I don’t know if I mentioned this, but it was raining. Hard. All evening. Bob Brolly asked me to lead the men in singing Happy Birthday. Strangely, I was not at all nervous about this. Times change.

The party food was excellent, but for some reason my stomach reacted badly to it and I was awake for much of the night. After communion this morning I didn’t feel up to going to Fakenham for Caroline’s party, so I made my excuses and stayed home. Dot is busy working on her DSSO visits for the current term.

Drama, rain and confusion

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End of the road at Happisburgh

I know I keep going on about this, but it’s still raining, and the forecast for the rest of the week is about as wet as it can be. I wouldn’t mind if it was going to have any impact at all on the drought, but of course it isn’t. Don’t you just love water companies? On the plus side, there’s just a remote possibility that the weather might have got it all out of its system by the time we go to Scotland. Or more likely, it will have no effect on it whatsoever.

While our pitch-and-putt was rained off last Wednesday, Dot and I beat the Robinsons at table tennis, 3-2, 3-2. Not bad, since we were losing 3-0 in the second series. The next day we had the Greens round, but somehow table tennis didn’t crop up, and we spent the whole evening at the dining table devouring an excellent curry and other goodies provided by Dot.

On Friday it was curry again – this time with Heather, Sam and Simon at a rather upmarket curry house called the Merchants of Spice in Colegate. I know it was in Colegate, because it used to be called the Merchants of Colegate, before it suddenly became Asian. Delicious meal, preceded by drinks at the Playhouse. Exceptionally convivial evening.

The drama continued on Saturday, when we went to the Maddermarket to see Present Laughter by Noel Coward. Not the most brilliant play I’ve seen, but a bravura performance by the lead actor, and some nice performances elsewhere too.

More drama on Sunday, when after I preached the sermon at St Augustine’s one of  our occasional visitors arrived and promptly collapsed. He has mental health problems, but in this instance he also had stomach pains, so one of our congregation phoned 999, and eventually we got the attention of a very pleasant paramedic on a bike. Unfortunately I had to go out and guide him in, which meant I got wet because – astonishingly – it was raining. Eventually said member of congregation drove him to a drop-in centre (the ill man, not the paramedic) – at which point, I was told later, he took fright and walked off.

Today Dot has been observing at a school in the east where they are choosing a new head teacher. She arrived home tired and then had to prepare for the next couple of days, involving more observation and then a visit to Thames Ditton for a P4C session (staying overnight). Meanwhile I was having a Chronicle meeting with Rob and Caroline, trying to unravel the confusion Lucy has inserted into what was going to be a pretty straightforward concert at St Peter Hungate. More on that story later.

Trail turns colder

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Unexpected reflection in a piece of scuplture on the Bergh Apton trail

Weather is turning more Scottish after a very pleasant few days. It started towards the end of the Bergh Apton Sculpture Trail yesterday, which we visited with Howard and Anna after a Peruvian church lunch. I had led the service because of an illness in the original leader’s family, and the lunch was provided by our Peruvian member, Elvira. It turned out to be a rather unexotic clear soup with mildly interesting bread, followed by some English cheesecake provided by bride-to-be Donna, who is unexpectedly going to live at Gorleston after the wedding.

The Sculpture Trail, which happens every two years, attracts big numbers, and we usually run into a few people we know. Not many this year, except for former colleague and excellent writer Steve Snelling, with whom we chatted at some length, and Dot’s DSSO colleague Maggie Broad, whom we met as we were leaving, after tea and cake at the village hall. The trail had started very warm – so much so that I took my thin jumper off halfway round. It may have been this that provoked the weather people, because a wind immediately got up, and the temperature dropped steadily until it became really quite chilly. It then rained overnight, just in time for Jennie’s arrival, well, any time now. She’s staying for three days. Roger and Jude dropped in last night for a drink and talk: Valerie’s funeral has been fixed for Friday next week.

In other news, we had a pleasant lunch with the Kibbles on Friday, making a return to the Waffle House after many years, and after that I called in on Phil and Joy, mainly to thank them for looking after our garden while we were away. On Saturday we had our hair cut, and I left Dot in a business meeting with Barbara while I dropped in at Martin and Rupert’s Open Studio, buying £30 worth of assorted small art: boxes and cards. They will be leaving the studio soon: Rupert probably working from his home after he moves into his partner’s house, and Martin spending half his time at a studio near his partner’s home in Kent, which he has for nine months.

What with loads of open studios and the sculpture trail, I suspect there is too much art floating around and not enough people to buy it.