Tag Archives: henderson

Birthday celebration for three at the Norfolk Mead

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Birthday snow for Dot
Birthday snow for Dot (the night before)

After the Evetts went last Friday and Dot was catching up with some paperwork, I drove to Pinky’s café in Halesworth and read two of my poems to a packed house, nearly all of whom were also reading poems, though not at the same time. I read Counting Water and Autumn at Wells. Sat with Sue Mobbs, who often reads at the Seagull. Ollie did a blasphemous verse: I was tempted to offer to tell him what Christianity was really about, but the opportunity didn’t arise.

It was a breezy drive back, and Saturday was so wet and windy that we were glad not to be going anywhere. We did sneak in a quick visit to Morrisons without getting soaked.

Sunday was Dot’s 70th (59th) birthday. There was snow on the ground, and Anna did a cake for church. We took a bottle of Prossecco, and Howard bought another one. After lunch Anne and Philip called in with a present (more fizzy) on the way to a birthday party for their grandson Charlie, who is three.

David drove up from Caddington, and we all went to the Norfolk Mead at Coltishall for an evening meal. It was superb, as was the service. Really nice having the three of us together, and extremely kind of David to pay for the meal. Earlier he had gone into the city to take his phone to Apple (and buy Dot a present), but he had to return to the Apple store the next morning to get it fixed.

Dot had got up early to give Paul a lift to a Diocese team day at Letton Hall, and I had scraped ice from the car. I had a bath while David was in the city, but had to leave for a dentist’s appointment half an hour after he returned. Fortunately, he was about to leave anyway.

The dental appointment turned out to be a bit traumatic, because Pip (the hygienist) decided I needed a deep clean. She did one side of my mouth under anaesthetic, and left the other to be done next Monday. Well, that’s something to look forward to – and all for only a few hundred pounds.

I decided to go straight home. Dot had a long day and went into the Hendersons for a cup of tea when she dropped Paul off; so she didn’t get home till about 6pm. Today she has already been to the UEA for a bit of medical research, which went well (apparently she has a healthy body; I knew that). Now (12.15pm) she has just left for Elveden, where she is adjudicating an RE Quality Mark application. I have an eye test this afternoon, which should prove less traumatic than the dental experience, though I suspect I may need new glasses; so it may be almost as expensive. It’s very damp out.

Obviously I can’t reveal who did it

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We like to catch these new shows early.
We like to catch these new shows early.

Another busy period. I started writing this on a train to London on Monday, where we went to catch The Mousetrap, which is a kind of role reversal, I guess. Reverting to chronological order…

Last Tuesday was Amy’s 11th birthday, Dot was in Hull and I was in the city, paying in cheques and buying Amy a silver Parker pen. In the afternoon I went to a PHS trustees’ meeting at Rob’s, after which I dropped in a thankyou card to Jessie, thanking her for the meal on Sunday.

After a brief lull on Wednesday, Dot and I drove to Coventry on Thursday to see Andrew, who’s still in hospital at the Caludon Centre. We were with him for just under an hour. He seemed pretty disengaged and under strain, but I’ve seen him a lot worse.

We then drove on to Caddington, arriving in time for a quick meal and a handover of Amy’s presents before David went to his history group. We then played Dixit using Amy’s new extension cards – a great game!

On Friday I roused myself to go with David to take Oliver to school in Aylesbury, leaving at 7.30am. Oliver read all the way, finishing off A Cuckoo’s Egg – a story of computer hacking that I read many years ago and have forgotten. Later Dot and I took Amy to St Alban’s for some shopping and a meal at Jamie’s. Amy didn’t really like what she ordered but didn’t make a fuss: she’s very considerate. We got her some bread to supplement her sauce, which she did like. Got back to Caddington as David was leaving to fetch Oliver.

We drove home at 6pm because we’d agreed to feed Ellie’s guinea pigs (before we knew about our Coventry/Caddington trip). Got back at 8 despite dire warnings from our satnav about a major hold-up. Happily it melted away just in time.

Bit of a kerfuffle at church on Saturday when Stuart got worried about hirers (a church plant) making too much noise at the hall. Called in to check on the way to Cromer, but nothing was happening. Got worse later, apparently. Ran into Phyllis and vicar David, who had rushed down from the Enneagram session check what all the fuss was about. Conflicting reports about what happened next, but apparently one local resident was very upset, and since then storing of excess equipment has proved impossible to handle; so they’re probably going up to St Luke’s. Good luck, St Luke’s.

At the Cromer History event I saw re-enactors Diana and Lisa, as well as Peter. Small hall, lots of people – even more earlier, it seems. Very wet day.

On Sunday after church we went to the Hendersons’ for lunch, which was delicious, and heard about Uganda. At home, saw some of US Grand Prix, but too tired (because of putting clocks back) to see the end. However, it came to my attention that Hamilton won and is world champion again. When we eventually saw the highlights yesterday, it turned out to be quite exciting.

London worked out well. The hotel (hub by Premier Inn in St Martin’s Lane, was extraordinary: lots of technology but not much space. Our room was tiny, taken up mainly by the bed, but everything worked well and of course you don’t go to a London hotel to stay in the room. Comfortable and clean, anyway. We went for a walk and took in some of the National Gallery before heading to Brown’s for a pre-theatre meal, where I was extremely impressed both by the efficiency and by the quality of the food.

The Mousetrap was fun: well-acted first half especially, though the second act was barely credible. Obviously I can’t tell you who did it. Interesting theatre in that you walked straight off the street across about ten yards of entrance hall and into the dress circle. Very good seats; the ice cream was good too. Not sure why three large people left at the interval. Maybe they were uncomfortable, but surely you’d want to know who did it.

Not a great night’s sleep, but my fault, not the bed’s. We went up the road to eat. for breakfast because Dot wanted a croissant. I had sandwiches. After that we went to the National Portrait Gallery and saw quite a few portraits, notably several of those used by Simon Schama in his TV series, which was interesting. After that we checked out from the hotel and took a tube, catching the 12.30 from Liverpool Street, which was pretty good going.

As coming down, we were in first class, and this time Dot didn’t spill her coffee. We were home by just after 2.30pm, and too tired to do much. However, we did take our old TV and DVD player round to a guy in Churchill Road, who seemed appreciative.

This morning was miserable, and I got wet checking the car tyres (still not happy with them). Later we went to Morrisons and bought much food. Traffic was horrendous. I walked home and got back about a quarter of an hour before Dot. Spent quite a lot of time on writing three pieces for Parish Pump, on Slavery, Refugees and In Flanders Fields.

Party for Paul mixes different emotions

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Jon Welch, someone else I should probably know, Shaun Lowthorpe and Helen Ashworth
Jon Welch, someone else I should probably know, Shaun Lowthorpe and Helen Ashworth

Very warm couple of days this weekend, dissolving into heavy rain around teatime today. Dot has just gone out to the Greens’ for a “girls’ night out” involving Vicky and Ruth, and I stayed in to play host to Maryta, Paul and Holly and their stem ginger cake. We went round the Hendersons’ last night for a meal, and Holly was supposed to be there for that, but she had a stomach problem and didn’t arrive till today: glad I was able to see her.

Earlier yesterday there was an unusual event at the home of Pat and Lesley Prekopp at Burgh, near Aylsham. Paul Durrant, former EDP news editor, has been diagnosed with cancer (oesophagus, I think) and has only a few months to live; so they arranged for him to be at this party and for as many of his old colleagues as possible to come and see him. He was quite gaunt but in reasonably good spirits, though obviously emotional, and he gave a good speech. I spoke to him as Maryta and I left and I said it had been a real pleasure. It was clear that he had tears in his eyes, which may seem an obvious thing to say, but I found it moving.

Paul 'Duzza' Durrant, legend of the newsroom
Paul ‘Duzza’ Durrant, legend of the newsroom

I took Maryta; Brian had been intending to come but was too ill, and Robin had a previous engagement. The setting was beautiful and the weather extremely warm; the food was good too. Met a number of former colleagues/friends: Tony Wenham, Ian Clarke, Trevor Burton, Emma Lee, Annette Hudson, Sarah Hardy, Stacia Briggs, Helen Ashworth, Louisa Griffith-Jones, Ian Bullock, Bill Woodcock, Sarah Brealey, James Goffin, Pete Kelley, Jon Welch, Rachel Moore, Mike Pollitt, Denise Bradley, Alison Croose, Andrew Stronach, Shaun Lowthorpe, Mark Harrop and others too numerous to mention or who I’ve forgotten. Left after 2½ hours but would probably have stayed longer if I’d been alone: Maryta, of course, knew far fewer people than I did. Apparently when Duzza left he got a round of applause.

Even earlier yesterday Colin and his youngest son Jordan came and cut our hedge, which gave us more light into the kitchen and garden, as well as a rather smug feeling, which dissipated when he pointed out that Dot’s car had a flat tyre. However, I’ve pumped it up and it seems to be staying up – at the moment.

On Friday we had a surprise when  Bronwen Edwards of InPrint fame came round out of the blue and stayed for a drink. She was staying in a hotel on Prince of Wales Road. Hope to see her again.

Thursday saw us on the Broads in the afternoon. We hired a day boat for a couple of hours with Fred and Sue and sailed down to Salhouse Broad. We had a cup of tea while we waited and a meal in the Hotel Wrexham when we returned – fish and chips for Dot and me. A really pleasant afternoon which made us wonder why we don’t do it more often.

Arsenal win after extra time by Suffolk poets

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Dot settles down to a bit of navigation in Frejus.
Dot settles down to a bit of navigation in Frejus.

 

Here we are in a new month, and my shoulders are feeling a bit sensitive. I don’t know why, but no doubt a forthcoming visit to Scarborough will put them right. Or not.

Not quite such a busy weekend, though we spent the afternoon on Saturday at the Suffolk Poetry Festival in Stowmarket. We decided to take the train, which proved a sound idea. The weather was quite reasonable, and dry.

We were part of a group representing the Seagull and organised by Kaaren Whitney, wearing a Massachusetts T-shirt. Dot and I did some tanka and I read a couple of other poems. Other readers were Sue and Elizabeth, and I think we held our own quite well. James Knox Whittet was also there, as president of the society, but he was not reading. As always the quality varied enormously, but overall it was enjoyable until a trio from Woodbridge went way over their allotted time. We had intended to stay a little longer, but we were so irritated that we left early and so were able to catch the Cup Final on TV. Arsenal beat Aston Villa impressively, 4-0. Dot left her jacket behind, but Sue rushed out with it as I was returning for it.

On the Sunday I was preaching again (shortage of alternatives), and after lunch Dot and I went to see Jessie, dodging the showers. She seemed quite well, and the cake was ginger. Before that, of course, we visited the cemetery, where again we managed to avoid getting wet, except underfoot.

Earlier in the week we had our hair cut (Wednesday), and on Thursday Dot helped to interview Paul Henderson for the role of DSSO. She also gave him a lift to Diocesan House and I went to pick him up, because she had to stay on and do more interviewing. I had tea with him, and when Maryta returned from a bout of horse-riding, I was shown the garden and its vegetables. I got home just before Dot.

On Friday the Eagles came for supper and stayed till about 1am, by which time I had been asleep for a short while. I’m finding it hard to stay awake if it’s late, because the conversation was certainly not boring, and we are much on the same wavelength. We played them some music and showed them some pictures, and Sue and Dot completed the minutes of a meeting earlier in the week which – sadly – wound up the Norfolk Association for Primary Headteachers (NAFPHT). All good things…

Apparently we are involved in a 5-2 diet, which involves not eating much on two days out of seven. I have lost a bit of weight, as well as impetus.

Painful shoulder, painful tickets

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Hear no evil, speak no evil, see no evil: Janet, Dot and Sue
Hear no evil, speak no evil, see no evil: Janet, Dot and Sue at Mons

Pleasant weather has arrived, but with it my shoulder has become extremely painful for no apparent reason. This followed an x-ray by my dentist, but I can’t see how there can be a connection. More likely it’s a delayed effect of levering myself out of the swimming pool and twisting because my right arm was painful from a previous fall, but that was over a week ago.

Yesterday morning it got so bad that I went to A & E. This proved to be a mistake: I should have gone to my GP. Ah, well, lots of wasted time, but I got an x-ray. Needless to say, it was clear. Dot came up to fetch me because she didn’t know why I was there (my texts were getting blocked). Result:  it continues to hurt a lot, and I still don’t know what’s wrong. I went to see James at Heydon this morning to discuss with him and Rob what our plans were for the next Chronicle project: I managed to drive all right, but I would be lying if I said it was pain-free.

The second most painful thing this week was getting tickets to the Wembley play-off final. After much discussion Dot decided she did want to go, so she ended up queuing with Naomi on Wednesday evening while I went to a very good Science and Faith lecture by Prof David Wilkinson at the Cathedral, encountering Margaret Comerford, who may be moving south (she has a partner in London).

The queuing was successful; so now we are in possession of five tickets, and Jonathan is driving us – not sure exactly where. I believe someone has booked a Nepali meal beforehand. Goodness knows why. Organisation has never been so chaotic.

David’s 43rd birthday on Monday; so we spoke to him on FaceTime after returning home from a DCC meeting which was very enjoyable (a) because it was at Howard’s, with wine and nibbles (b) new members Eleanor and Judy were present and (c) well, it just was. As much a social encounter as a meeting, which has to be good. Howard has a gift for that.

Earlier in the day I had met Mary (from our congregation) in a cafe on Surrey Street. She is trying to engage people she meets in conversation about Christianity and wanted me to help; but the guy in question didn’t turn up, and so I had a pleasant conversation with Mary instead, giving her advice on her to write a letter to the Editor of the EDP. She came round later in the week, and I edited her letter on the spot.

Tuesday saw a meeting of the PHS Trustees at Mundesley. The drive out was very slow, as was the meeting. In the evening Dot and I went to the Hendersons for a light meal and some conversation or, in Maryta’s case, a debate. No change there. Paul is becoming DSSO in the style of Dot, which is nice.

On Wednesday Martin Smith came round with a load of cheques, cash and invoices relating to the Speaker Programme and the Enneagram. Today I have successfully dealt with them, paying in the cheques at the bank and buying a loaf and some broccoli on the way back. Dot has been out all day but should be home soon, just in time to queue up again to collect the actual tickets, and not the ticket that entitles you to collect the actual tickets, which she queued up for before. Jonathan has been on the phone, asking me about tube stations. Is it worth it?

From Iolanthe to Nonington

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Dot in new top outside Farthingales.

A long weekend – at least if you measure it in miles. Total: just under 500. It started on Friday, as so many weekends do. Rob picked up the completed Paston poetry book, Another Country, on CD to take it to the printers. I have heard nothing since, so I assume that all was well with it.

Dot had been at Dickleburgh in the morning, so there was bit of a rush at lunchtime. We eventually left at about 2.30pm for Banbury, and after negotiating a hold-up in Riverside, we enjoyed a trouble-free journey. I was particularly impressed by the new junction of the A421 and the M1, which had been complete chaos last time we were in the vicinity. Got a bit lost in Banbury, but arrived at the Riches’ abode before 5.30pm. Fred was already rehearsing for his role as Lord Chancellor in Iolanthe, so we had tea with Sue and Marjorie, Fred’s sister, with her husband Pat, who had also travelled from Norfolk for the evening’s performance.

I love Gilbert and Sullivan, so Iolanthe, in Banbury School theatre, was a treat, despite the heat. Really good performance by the local operatic society, and Fred was excellent: really good acting and a great performance of a couple of difficult songs.

On Saturday we headed south on the M40, then anti-clockwise round the M25, stopping for a very acceptable lunch (fish and chips for me) at Clacket Lane services, where a girl called Donna was holding the restaurant together (and probably not getting paid much for it). Good service should be much better rewarded. Dot bought a kind of furry top and we headed ever south-eastwards, taking the M26 and M20, before switching to the M2 and A2. Dot had driven to Banbury, and I drove this time: it was again a very pleasant journey in glorious autumn sunshine.

We found our way to the tiny village of Nonington and our B&B establishment, a beautiful old house called Farthingales, run by a very solicitous guy called Peter. Nonington is the home of Pat and Barry Clayton, and we were there for their ruby wedding celebration that evening in the village hall. We walked from Farthingales in the sun to the village hall down a country lane and decided that maybe we’d take the car in the evening, though I couldn’t see where we’d park. I needn’t have worried: cars lined the narrow village street, and we joined them.

It was an enjoyable do, with some good music – mainly from a duo on guitar and accordion singing 6os songs. Much better than it sounds. Lots of family and neighbours present, of course: the only people we knew apart from Pat and Barry were Rob and Sue Bushell, with whom we sat and talked (when we could hear each other). Nice curry and some free wine. The B&B was really nice, with a huge private lounge-cum-dining room, and the breakfast yesterday was first-class.

An easy journey up the M2 and M20 got us on to the A20 without touching the M25, and we arrived at the Hendersons’ in Eltham at around 10.40am, which meant we could see Maryta’s sister and brother and their spouses before they left with Maryta’s father, Joe. They had stayed the night after a party the previous night for Maryta’s 60th. Unfortunately Joe and Holly had left even earlier. We had lunch with Paul and Maryta and looked though a book on the school to mark its centenary on the Eltham site – partly designed by Maryta. The book, that is. Not the site. We left for home when Paul took Maryta to work and arrived before 6pm. Happily the Humax had recorded Norwich City’s epic 1-1 draw at Liverpool. Watched what is allegedly the last episode ever of Spooks.

This morning the accountant has been here with Dot and Barbara.

What have I let myself in for?

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Brilliantly exposed shot catching the speed at which Maryta demonstrates how to bend, or possibly how not to.

So here we are in 2011, and here too is my 500th post. The year hasn’t shown any very promising signs yet, and some might say the same about the blog. I suppose it’s more a diary than a blog, but it’s a way of keeping track. Aiming to keep on the path less travelled, but tending to drift. The weather is a bit milder, but damp and grey, rather like a slight hangover.

Things have gone quiet with the departure of David, Oliver and Amy, two of whom have now transferred to Nottingham for a few days. Dot is revelling in her new MacBook Air (after we sorted out one or two issues), and I am just revelling, in a quiet way. The real extrovert revelling was on New Year’s Eve, led by Amy, who was surprisingly resistant to falling asleep and stayed up, with Oliver, until midnight. A born organiser, she made sure we played games and had fun, and didn’t doze off. Oliver was also lively right up to the wire. Where they get the energy from, I have no idea, unless they are extracting it from me in some way. I did manage to create a New Year Quiz, which David won despite disputing some of the answers.

Dot cooked a lovely Greek lamb and garlic meal, and I did sausages for the children, with pasta for Amy and potatoes for Oliver. We were joined by Anne and Philip, who survived the experience remarkably well and seemed to have a good time.

David and the children packed and departed by just after noon on New Year’s Day, which left us just about time to clear up before the arrival of Paul and Maryta for afternoon tea. During this Dot was offered a job as consultant, which may prove interesting.

Yesterday I preached at St Augustine’s on Epiphany – seeing the light. As usual I didn’t feel it came out quite right, but several people said they liked it. Howard led, and Vicky M brought her new baby, George, who is only a couple of weeks old and looked gorgeous, but with a slight air of “what have I let myself in for?” I guess most babies have that, with every justification. I suspect babies know more than they are telling.

Afterwards we went to see A Ethel, who has not been well over Christmas. She looked very frail. Dot made her a cup of tea and promised to return today, which she did, preparing her a little bit of lunch. Hard being alone in your late 80s when you’re not mobile. Dot is now preparing for a session she’s doing tomorrow on “The distinctiveness of a church school” for some staff in the Ringland area. At least, that’s where she’s doing it. I don’t know where the staff are from.

Tricky forecasting

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Nephew Joe's wife Birgit, a few days ago.
Nephew Joe's wife Birgit, a few days ago.

Day two of the new year draws to an end: bright but cold. Forecast for rest of month is very cold, which means that the Met Office’s mild winter forecast is wrong again – unless of course their January forecast is wrong. Tricky stuff, forecasting. Only left the house once today – to post a few thank-you letters written by my conscientious wife. Took it easy generally, but did manage to install Snow Leopard on my computer. My last Christmas present arrived – Emily Smith’s latest CD. Haven’t heard all of it yet, but what I have heard sounds excellent.

Yesterday two lots of visitors. At lunchtime (but not for lunch) my nephew Sam and his wife Lucy, who are in the process of buying a house in Southampton and are rightly upbeat about the new year. In the evening the Hendersons, with whom we dined at Cafe Uno on Tombland. Uno not at their best: the meal can best be described as ordinary and the service as poor, largely because they had too few staff. It was some time before we even got a menu. Suggestion to Cafe Uno: either have enough staff on, or close the restaurant for New Year’s Day. I know, it is tricky forecasting. Paul didn’t seem at all well, but we had a good time together, walking down through the Close and glancing briefly at the new cathedral hostry before ending the evening with coffee and a look at a few pictures on our Apple TV!

9 February 2009

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Yesterday morning in the grounds of Eltham College, South London, where Paul Henderson is headmaster. Also in the picture are his wife Maryta and my wife Dot, and their dog, who may be called Jim, if I remember rightly. Dot is sporting a spectacular fur coat given to her by her aunt, and Maryta has a hat from Poland which originally has tassels on it. We were taking a walk round the playing fields, which featured a few giant snowballs but mainly green grass. We travelled down on the Saturday, and the roads were no problem at all. We left fairly early on the Sunday, after brunch, and the drive home was even easier. Both times we took the Blackwall Tunnel route: went slightly wrong a couple of times on the way south, but nothing serious. No problems on the way back. Paul has done a fantastic job at the school: lots of new ideas and some brilliant progress in the music department especially. Lots of work done by the pupils in the community as well.

On the Friday we went out to Park Farm, where we had lunch, then called in to Waitrose, where we ran into the vicar’s wife. Bitterly cold day, but almost no snow left, so no trouble getting around. On the way south on Saturday we saw plenty of snow in the fields north of London, and David and family are stiill grappling with deep snow, though today the roads are OK, and Vicky has been to work. Oliver has been quite ill with a high temperature and a cold that has now gone to his chest. Amy has also had a bad cold but seems to be over it. Both are at home today.

We had out hair cut this morning, and Dot is now in the city: she was due to meet Carrie, but she didn’t show up, and her answerphone is full up, so Dot is rather worried about her. I’m due to meet a painter this afternoon with a view to collaborating, but haven’t got a time yet. Have left a message for her. More snow is forecast, which is a bit worrying as Dot is due to visit two schools tomorrow, and on Wednesday we’re both booked in at the King’s Head, Bircham, in preparation for an inspection she’s doing at Flitcham. Not feeling in peak condition myself. Got a recurrence of flu symptoms, though of course only in a very minor way.