Tag Archives: hair

Idyllic walk out to the Bure and St Benet’s

Uncategorized, , , , , , , , ,
Sunset near South Walsham.
Sunset near South Walsham.

Strangely, the eye test turned out to be nearly as traumatic, though not as painful. Everything seemed OK, and the ophthalmologist said my eyes were healthy, but then he noticed  something at the top of my left eye, which he wondered about. He thought it could be a problem with the retina. On one hand he said it was probably nothing, and he was just being cautious, but on the other he said that if I got a shadow in my eye I should rush to A&E, in case my retina had become detached, which could blind me in that eye. Yippee.

I also needed two new pairs of glasses, in which I was assisted by a very nice girl called Becky, who was a trainee but very thorough and determined to get everything right. I eventually chose two new frames and ordered them. They will be ready next week. I also have a hospital appointment to look at my eye. This is on December 31, which may or may not be a good idea, but the next option was well into January. Needless to say I have had funny feelings in my eye since then, but I’m sure they’re just psychosomatic.

Back at the dentist, this morning’s session was even worse than the first one, and when Allison asked me when I wanted to come back, I said: “Never.” The procedure was pretty painful, and the idea of using three different toothbrushes to clean my teeth is pretty unrealistic. The hygienist is a fanatic: I think I shall go back to Ross for the check-up in three months’ time. Or four. Or five. Or eighteen.

The next day (Wednesday) I had my hair cut, which was totally painless.

Thursday was Dot’s day in London with Anne, and they had a great time, particularly the afternoon tea at the Bloomsbury Hotel. I surprised myself by going for a walk, starting at South Walsham staithe and walking along the bank of the dyke out to the Bure, opposite St Benet’s Abbey. I got some really good pictures and in many ways it was idyllic: not too cold, very still and the light fading, with mist over the marshes. I didn’t pass anyone after I left the metalled road. The only problem was that the path was very muddy – I couldn’t make up my mind whether it was a result of the damp weather we’d been having (and are still having) or if the recent hight tides had overtopped the bank. Still wonderful, though.

On Saturday I went out to Mundesley for the second writing workshop, which was good again, and then met Dot at North Walsham rail station, taking her to Jessie’s, where we had a cup of tea before going to the Banningham Crown for an evening meal. This was another very good meal. I had a steak and ale pie, which was probably a mistake in terms of getting a decent night’s sleep, but it tasted good. Also there were Roger and his girlfriend Debbie, who is very easy to talk to. The service was again excellent.

Sunday turned out to be very sporty. Dot and I watched the Davis Cup final, in which Murray won the decisive match, accompanied by extremely noisy spectators, and then we watched the Norwich v Arsenal match on Sky, courtesy of NOW TV. Good game too. The result was 1-1, and City could easily have won. After supper, or possibly during it, we then watched the highlights of the final F1 race of the season.

In the park at Heydon

Uncategorized, , , , , ,
Rob, Penny, Ann and James in Heydon Park.
Rob, Penny, Ann and James in Heydon Park.

Not much movement this week, except for Dot, who drove to Northampton and back for p4c on Sunday and Monday. To be accurate she stayed in Market Harborough at a friend of Barbara’s on the Sunday. Her journey both ways was very slow, but on the plus side Barbara didn’t have food poisoning as she did in Wimbledon.

Before Dot left we had lunch with the Knox-Whittets at Heydon: a lovely meal of leak and chicken pie (among other things). There was some discussion about the next Chronicle episode, and we agreed a date to meet after I’ve sorted out the narrative a bit more more. I’ve spent most of the week getting round to it, but have been pre-empted by filing an income tax return; writing an unexpected article for Parish Pump on Prisons Week and a sermon for Sunday; visiting  Bracon Ash to photograph the church and grave for Keith and Mary Chapman at Kingston; and two visits to the cinema.

After Dot left, the remaining five of us (James and Ann; Rob and Penny; and me) went for a walk into the estate. The sun was beautiful and although we walked only a short distance, we got a close-up of some cattle and the big house, and good views of two herons and a barn owl.

Everest was a good film, which we saw in iMax for £28.50. Dot had to rush out as the film was starting when we discovered that our 3D glasses were not the same as iMax ones. Really! Anyway the effects were very good indeed, though it was predictably hard to tell who was who once they had their mountain gear on, especially when the weather turned bad. Felt sorry for the climb leader, who (SPOILER ALERT) would have survived if he hadn’t been surrounded by idiots.

Two days later we were back in the cinema for an 11am Silver Cinema showing of Spooks: the Greater Good. This cost us £6, with a cup of tea thrown in. Well, not exactly thrown. It would be hard to recommend this film too highly. It was brilliant in every way if you like spy stories. No spoiler alert this time.

Today I went to the chemist to pick up some pills and discovered that the owner, a really nice guy called David Hamblin, had decided to retire, and it was his last day. We’ve always got on really well, and we swapped e-mail addresses. He lives in Claxton. Back at home Dot painted part of the wall by the stairs, and then we had our hair cut. This was followed swiftly by her exit to Little Plumstead for a governors’ meeting, which means we’re having a late supper. Probably very late, as there were about 30 items on the agenda. Ridiculous? Indeed.

There was a super-moon on Sunday night, but I missed it. I woke up at 1.30am and it was behind the trees. I nearly got up and went out, but didn’t. I woke up at 4.30am and it was in the sky but behind clouds, and when it poked through it was neither very big nor orange. Nor eclipsed. Dot didn’t see it either. She had forgotten about it.

Sands of time singing

Uncategorized, , , , , , ,
Josephine with Paul in 2008
Josephine with Paul in 2008

A cold few days, but happily my feeling of impending doom last Friday turned out to be a false alarm – either that or my precautions took effect. Either way, I was well enough to travel to Pinkys at Halesworth  to read three poems for the assembled throng. Well, maybe not a throng, but it felt like one, because the room was full. More than 20 people, and all aching to read.

Got a good reception, but not quite as good as that for a youngish guy new to the scene who performed in Luke Wright fashion and almost as well. His name is Oliver; so of course I looked on him favourably and complimented him.

The next day we braved a sprinkling of snow as we left and drove to London to see the Coomes, where we continued a hectic day by enjoying a large lunch, then travelling by car and tube to Lambeth to see a painting  exhibition at the Imperial War Museum. Some new names to me, and some excellent stuff among others not so exciting. Particularly liked a guy called Nevinson. Also a superb large canvas by John Singer Sargent.

We lingered so long here that we had to continue straight to the Indian restaurant we normally visit, without returning home. Thanks to the large lunch already mentioned, I was not feeling particularly hungry, but the food was quite reasonable.

On the Sunday Dot and I went with Kristine to Mass at the local RC church while David stayed at home and mused on life, the universe and everything. Afterwards we had another largish lunch, rejecting the opportunity to go shopping in favour of starting back for Norwich while it was still light, in view of the forecast of snow in Norfolk. In fact the journey was quite easy, and no snow materialised at all.

One reason I had been nervous was my fear of not being able to get back to Norwich for the funeral on Monday of my Aunt Josephine, who died on December 30 at the age of 99. I had arranged to take my uncle Paul (91) to the burial at Cringleford at 10.30am, followed by a thanksgiving service at Hethersett Methodist Church at 11.30pm, with refreshments. Paul managed to keep track of what was going on, and sang enthusiastically, particularly the (very) old favourite, The sands of time are sinking, which I had to admit I enjoyed too.

Phil, Birgit and Dot were there too, with Joe joining us for the thanksgiving service. While getting more sugar for Paul (he took five spoonfuls in his tea), I ran into Melanie Cook, a homeopathist and nutritionist who had helped me some years ago and who is really nice. We introduced her to Birgit, who is having a lot of problems with various obscure afflictions and could probably benefit from a more holistic approach than is afforded by the NHS.

Yesterday Dot was quite busy, and so I had a good opportunity to get things done. Needless to say, I didn’t. But I did walk up to the sorting office and then the Rosary in what seemed the coldest weather for a long time. Not unpleasant, just very cold.

Today we await the arrival of Linda to cut our hair, having already been out to North Walsham to help Jessie celebrate her birthday with a selection of sausage rolls and mince pies (supplied by her, of course). I gave her a copy of my Iona book: we also popped one through Teresa’s door. She had requested one via Facebook.

Answering sculpture call

Uncategorized, , , , , , ,
Organ recital at Paston Church, with just a hint of medieval wall painting in the background (right).
Organ recital at Paston Church, with just a hint of medieval wall painting in the background (right).

The scaffolding has departed, the roof seems secure, and a cheque for over £2000 will shortly be winging its way to the builder. So that’s all right. Meanwhile, David is in Canada for Thanksgiving, and I have written three more Iona poems in the hope of getting a book together and keeping Joy happy: she wants me to publish a book of photographs and poems.

On Wednesday I went to see the doctor, who seemed fairly happy with me and in a bit of a hurry for a training session. He is going to book me in for an ultrasound check on my upper stomach/large bowel, but he says my other symptoms (virtually none) make it unlikely that it’s anything too serious. This is not as reassuring as he might have intended it to be.

I left my glasses behind, which he didn’t notice as he flew out of the room, but when I got home, I realised what I’d done. I rang the surgery, to be told it was closed for training. I drove back anyway and found it was indeed closed, which is a rare example of joined-up thinking at Thorpewood. So I had to do without my glasses until the following  morning, when I picked them up from reception.

Later that day, we had our hair cut after a postponement from last week. This is normal – even more normal that postponing a meeting with the Coomes.

Yesterday was the much-heralded Open Day at Paston Church, organised largely by the PCC but partly by the Paston Heritage Society. Dot and I drove out, enjoyed an organ recital, and I took Penny back to North Walsham so that Rob could continue in role as John Paston in a funny hat. On my return there was a talk on medieval wall paintings, which was more interesting than it sounds. Peter was there showing an updated version of the DVD in which Rob appears with animation of a reconstruction of Paston Hall. Impressive, actually. Lucy was there for quite a while, feeling considerably better than of late. Refreshments were superb as usual, despite Brigette being called away because her no-longer-secret barn had flooded.

We called in on Jessie on the way back, adding to our refreshment, and after our return tho Norwich (through a considerable thunderstorm) we got a call from the Hendersons halfway through our mussels. As a result recalled round for champagne and a view (through the darkness) of the new sculpture, which was nicely placed and looking good. We took some cakes, which turned out to be mouldy. Ah well.

Today was Nicholas’ last communion at St Augustine’s, which attracted a motley crew of more than 30 people, including Vicky and Amy and others less distinguished. All very jolly, with excellent cake from Anna and apparently some wine, though this did not reach me. I had a nice cup of tea, though.

Short hair, broken fan

Uncategorized, , , , , , ,
Another shot from our Whitlingham walk
Another shot from our Whitlingham walk

Here I am waiting to have a sigmoidoscopy. It doesn’t happen till early this afternoon, but already my stomach is churning (actually it’s being doing it for days). Not sure if it’s foreboding or an actual stomach upset. The operation is minor, of course, but it’s the bit before and after I’m not keen on. I’ll keep you posted if I survive.

Dot is out visiting a school but will be back to accompany me to the hospital, in case I need sedation, which I am much in favour of. I am totally against unnecessary pain, and I’m not all that much in favour of necessary pain.

Happily our heating is back on. The boiler fan broke on Tuesday, leaving us with an electrically powered group meal in the evening. Quite cosy in fact, but the rest of the house was decidedly chilly. The gas man turned up the next day at 10am, at precisely the same time as our hairdresser, who had been rescheduled from Monday. He took some time to work out the problem, but then happily was able to fix it.

Meanwhile Dot was rather nervously having her hair cut short: it looks good. Mine is pretty short too, but it pales into insignificance beside Dot’s. Hair and boiler were both sorted in time for Dot and I to drive to the NRO to hear Anna’s “Paston Treasure” talk, which as very good. Judy was also there and so, surprisingly, was Lucy, rising from her sickbed and driven by Diana.

In the evening, while Dot was at orchestra, I walked up to the Maddermarket and got a ticket to see The Seagull, in which two of my former colleagues at ECN were performing. The theatre was sparsely populated, but the acting was good, though I think the guy who shot himself at the end (spoiler alert) should have done it much earlier. Trevor Burton was excellent, as was David Newham. The older woman/famous actress didn’t help the plot by being clearly more attractive than the young Nina who was supposed to be luring Trevor away from her.

I nearly missed the opportunity of seeing the play because I was unexpectedly asked to play chess for the A team in the evening, but this proved to be a false alarm: one of the regular players recovered from a bad back and beat the Norfolk champion. So that was all good.

Yesterday I called on the parish treasurer, Susannah, who lives in a house overlooking Carey’s Meadow in Thorpe. A totally stunning view. We had a conversation about splitting the parish share, which we agreed should be 70-30. I have no idea whether this is right or not. I suspect not. (Definitely not. – Ed. mf)

Later, while Dot was shopping after lunch with Sue Eagle and friends, I drove to Paston for a meeting of the trustees. A painfully slow process – and that was just getting there. The meeting itself was OK, though I was surprised to hear that Lucy was disputing the bill from the UEA, although  she’d told me she was paying it. I am having nothing more to do with it.

11 October 2007

Uncategorized, , ,

At his official birthday party Oliver showed his prowess on the roped climbing frame, going over the top successfully.

Yesterday Dot and I had our haircut at Reepham, and I went for a two-mile walk on a track round the outside of the village but off Marriott’s Way. Very enjoyable. Dot is still immersed in sorting the garage out and (today) doing a thorough job on the house, with occasional input from me. The mail strike is over, but I still felt I couldn’t risk sending the cheque for Andrew’s care by first class post, so I sent it special delivery.

Weather is quite good. Tonight we’re out to one of Dot’s school colleague’s for a meal. I’ve been improving and printing a small leaflet on Edith Cavell, featuring my poem Edith and the Glacier. Will probably read it at Mulbarton Church on Saturday night during a concert (and during the England-France rugby game, annoyingly).

29 June 2007

Uncategorized, , , , , , ,

Two intrepid climbers near the summit of the previously unclimbed Mount Shingle, on the North Norfolk coast, during their trek across the uncharted Cley Marshes – known in some quarters as the Empty Miles. This was a two-woman expedition, totally unsupported except for the cameraman, his friend and the occasional coffee and ice cream.

Happily they survived to tell the tale. A similarly dangerous expedition was in fact undertaken by one of them, with her husband (me) only four days later, when we left Norwich on the 10am train for Liverpool Street, followed by a taxi drive through unmapped road works to the Tate Gallery on Millbank. Good food at the Tate: after it, we went round the Hockney/Turner exhibition, which was pretty amazing. I really think late Turner (1830-50) is just about as good as you can get. Wonderful use of light, amazing composition, and the feeling that you’re looking into another dimension. Rilke said beauty was as much of terror as we are able to bear; if so, this is right where awe, terror and beauty meet. Even the ones that were barely started were marvellous.

We followed this by visiting the The Way We Are photographic exhibition, which was £6 each (concessions) more than the other one. Turner is free!! Nevertheless some remarkable pictures here, mixed in with some rather average ones. It’s amazing how some of the pioneer photographers overcame technical difficulties to produce really artistic, poignant pictures.

We returned to the West End by bus. The driver was unable to “find” £1 change for our £5. Past the Houses of Parliament, where there was hectic media activity: a lesser event today was the abdication of Blair and the coronation of Brown as Prime Minister. Plenty of anti-war protesters also there, and in Whitehall. Very, very slow progress down Whitehall to Trafalgar Square. When we heard today that a potential car bomb had brought traffic in the area to a standstill, we wondered how anyone had noticed.

We walked up St Martin’s Lane and had a meal in Med Kitchen: a superb rib-eye steak for me – one of the best I can remember eating. Green beans and chips. Dot had a salmon fishcake, which was also excellent, and we shared fries. Both of us had creme brulee to follow. We were going to walk up to Tottenham Court Road, but the sky went black and water started falling from the sky, so we doubled back and went into Leicester Square Tube Station, where the guy in the ticket office had no interest whatsoever in his job, talking to colleagues and doing other things while a queue built up. We had no alternative but to wait. It reminded me of Italy.

Had a bit of a wait for the train home, but all went smoothly, although it got colder and colder.

Yesterday we went to Reepham for a hair cut. I went for a walk but failed to find my cousin Barbara’s house, so will have to check the name. Afterwards we had lunch in the old station – excellent – and then went to check on the dinosaur park in case the weather at the weekend is good enough to take the children there. Afterwards back by country lanes to the A47. Brief break, then Dot went off in my car to Park Farm and I took her car for a service, then walked home (about three miles). Dot went to visit her aunt, then to Gillingham in the evening as a governor.

Today, after I finished my page for next Monday, we started by picking up the car. Weather still very showery, as it has been for days, when it’s not been solid rain. I left Dot to pay and drove back into city, where I called at Prospect House with Aunt E’s ad, then paid in some cheques. Brief visit home, then went to to UEA to see a production by Eugenia’s translation group, which turned out to be a half-hour of sketches based on Molly Bloom’s monologue in Ulysses. Surprisingly well done. I don’t know what I had been expecting, but it was fascinating and very clever in parts.

Afterwards called in at Morrison’s for a big shop for the weekend: our family are coming up to see us. Dot now has her head down working on a school report.

Oh, I forgot. On Tuesday I finally tracked down my cousin Jon, who was staying at a caravan park at Ludham in his rather luxurious motor home. It was the first time I had met him for many, many years, and I had never met his wife Dorothy before, although they have been married for 46 years. They live in Axminster, Devon.

I can only conclude that all Dorothys are something special, because she was lovely. Had a really good 90 minutes or so there, talking about family history and getting some details for the family tree (I gave Jon a printout of what I have so far). Then rushed back home (beating highways authority plans to prevent anyone entering the city by blocking roads and causing general congestion, which I am sad to say is ongoing today), just in time to meet Ruth K, with whom I’m doing a song recital / poetry reading for charity in November. Guess who’s doing the song recital aspect of it. Worked a few things out. In the evening went to Ed’s for the Tuesday meal while Dot finished her previous report.