Tag Archives: hungate

Crabbing, climbing and table tennis

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Amy with crabbing net

And so we emerge from a hectic week…into another one. Dot is already out visiting schools, and I have a visit to the dentist tomorrow and to the doctor on Thursday. The latter doesn’t sound much, but it looms pretty large. There is a root canal involved.

I was in the sunny city, paying in church money, on Wednesday, when Dot called me to say Oliver and Amy wanted to come to us a day early. Naturally, a plan was quickly devised, and with Dot busy finishing a PIB (pre-inspection briefing), I set off to meet David halfway just outside Newmarket near Snailwell – a spot identified on Google maps. All went well, except that halfway there the warm and sunny day evaporated into heavy rain, and I realised I hadn’t brought my anorak or taken my guitar out of the boot. No worries, however: the rain turned back into sun before we met, and there was plenty of room for the children’s luggage.

We had a great three days with the children, despite a bad weather forecast. On the Thursday we went to Sheringham, where it was mild enough to have a picnic on the beach after Oliver and I had climbed Beeston Bump (calling in at Fred’s caravan on the way and finding Liz in situ) and Dot and Amy had done some shopping. We also did a little crabbing, and after I retired defeated, the children “teamed up” with another family, who had bait. As a result, Oliver netted one.

Oliver at the summit of Beeston Bump

We then drove (as a result of a miscalculated and rash promise made earlier) to Winterton, in time to have a quick game of hide-and-seek in the dunes before the rain started, and a few drops quickly turned into a downpour. We repaired to the cafe for refreshment and then rushed wetly to the car. We had taken Dot’s car for a service earlier in the day, but it was now too late (and too wet) to fetch it; so I left it till the next morning. The next morning was also very wet, as was the whole day, and we spent most of it in the house or garage, where Oliver showed an amazing aptitude for table tennis. As he’s very competitive, this wasn’t enough for him: he wanted to win every game too. Meanwhile Amy made a den under the table and did some cooking indoors. We finished the day off with a 6pm meal at Prezzo’s: the children are a real joy to take out – or actually do anything with.

David arrived at lunchtime on Saturday, after being held up because the police had shut the southern bypass after a fatal accident. We had roast beef for lunch, and Oliver did his best to beat Daddy at table tennis when Daddy wasn’t tackling my computer. I popped up to St Peter Hungate at 3.30pm to check that the afternoon session with the visiting viols was going OK. I spoke to Lucy and Jo, both of whom seemed very ill, but didn’t hear the viols, who were taking a break. I went back at 5pm for the rehearsal with Rob, Caroline and Kay, and it went well, so I returned home to say goodbye again, picking up the poetry books I’d forgotten at the same time.

I also went and picked up a music stand from the church hall, at the same time replacing a notice which had either blown off or been ripped off, or both (the wind had been very strong the day before). The evening performance –  Heroine of Hungate – took place as David and the children were driving back to Caddington and Dot was cleaning up the house: it did go well, but the audience was very small – only a dozen, including relatives and friends. Hilary came, as did Catherine Mapes. I blame the poor publicity because the viols messed us about (no, we don’t want to perform; yes, we do; no, we can’t do it in the evening….)

Felt totally shattered yesterday morning, but had to leave at 9.30 for the Archdeacon’s Visitation at St Luke’s and a combined service and bring-and-share lunch. Worship music went well, and Dot and I were able to sing three of my songs for the Communion service. The archdeacon, the Ven Jan McFarlane, did a brilliant sermon about writing people off by labelling them: it sounds fairly ordinary, but she did it exceptionally well and brought in all kinds of other stuff.

In the evening our family’s hobnobbing with the senior echelons of the Church of England continued when Dot went to the commissioning service for the new director of Norwich Youth for Christ and met the Bishop, with whom she’s pretty chummy. She pleaded with him not to become Archbishop of Canterbury, and it would indeed be a big loss for Norwich, though probably brilliant for the country at large. I have a great admiration for him (as you probably noticed). She really enjoyed the service, at St Andrew’s Eaton, which I had given a miss in the hope of getting some rest – almost certainly a bad choice. I make a lot of them.

Sudden death of college friend

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Dot's college friends pictured by Pete Stokes at our ruby wedding anniversary. Jan (Pete's wife) is fourth from the right.

Not a happy start to the week: Liz Stabler rang as Dot was leaving the house on Monday and told us that Dot’s college friend Jan Stokes (formerly Kidd) had died 0f cancer. Huge shock: we didn’t even know she was ill. Apparently she herself didn’t know about the cancer until a couple of months ago.

Then we discovered that our nephew Joe has multiple sclerosis: fortunately the less severe kind – intermittent instead of progressive – but still a tremendous blow for him and Birgit, and for his parents.

Third, and rather less seriously, I got a phone call late in the evening from Lucy to tell us that the consort of viols from Cambridge had decided not to play in the evening on June 9, but in the afternoon, thus making a nonsense of all our publicity. Ironically I had distributed some flyers to the tourist information centre, St Peter Mancroft and several businesses on Elm Hill when we checked the venue on Saturday. Ho hum.

The three of us met (with Kay) at Fakenham today to decide what we’d do about it and – mainly – to rehearse the script. The latter went well – Caroline had written a new song – and we decided to just forge ahead and do our own thing in the evening on the 9th, letting the viols get on with it in the afternoon. Out, viol spot.

Dot hasn’t been well, but is now better. We went to a concert by Duke Special at the Open on Sunday night, and she felt ill on the way there and the following day. The concert was nevertheless brilliant: DS is a great live artist and a top songwriter. The Cracknells and Heybournes were also there. We got there about 7.15, but there were two support acts before DS took the stage at about 9.15pm. One of them was local and not my kind of thing at all; the other was Foreign Slippers, who were quirky and pretty good. Great evening: even made Dot feel better, though she relapsed afterwards.

Had our hair cut yesterday, and in the evening Steve Fiske came round to sort out the worship songs for June 10, when the Archdeacon is paying a visit and we have a joint service at St Luke’s. Brought back memories of when we used to play together at St Augustine’s.

After several days of warm sunshine,today is cooler, with rain promised.

Wine, women and song

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Relaxing moment on the cliff between Mundesley and Paston during the wet and windy walk at the end of April.

On the brink of our holiday in Scotland: Andrew is staying with us for a couple of nights, and we’re dropping him off on the way north tomorrow afternoon. We’ve just been for a walk down the Riverside path, taking in the new bridge, and I also got him a new pair of slippers. Yesterday Phil drove me to Coventry to pick him up, and everything went pretty smoothly, except the usual Elveden chaos, which we avoided (once we could reach the roundabout) by taking the pretty route via West Stow, Ingham and Barnham.

Not much rain in the last couple of days, but it’s been very cold (for May). Still, mustn’t grumble. It will probably snow in Scotland. As I write Dot is up at the garage, who are having a second look at her car after failing to fix it yesterday. They replaced some kind of coil, but the mystery light came on again at Coltishall after her visit to North Walsham. She was not happy.

Other news this week: an unexpected pregnancy. I cannot say whose pregnancy (in the style of Walt Whitman) but it landed us a bottle of champagne, so we were delighted. At the pregnancy, too. On the same day we had a meal at Cafe Rouge with Angela and Rodney to discuss the Ethel situation, which we did. Nice meal.

Earlier in the week: on Monday I took my massive Division Two champion trophy back to the chess club and took part on the John Swan Rapidplay, where I scored a pretty normal 50%, losing to two of the joint winners and drawing with the winner of the grading prize. My best game was in fact a loss to Jeff Dawson. Found it all very tiring, though. On Wednesday I took one of my games from earlier in the season to Mike Read so that he can annotate it for En Passant (if he thinks it’s worth it). Had a cup of tea with him and indulged in a bit of nostalgia.

On Tuesday, prior to a rather depleted Tuesday Group, Caroline and Rob came here again to  discuss further the Paston event at St Peter Hungate in June. Think we’re getting there – I even sang my song, The Ballad of Gresham Town – and we decided to invite Kay to join us for our next meeting at the end of the month.

Drought gets wetter and wetter

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Happisburgh lighthouse on a cold Sunday

Drought is now in full swing. It’s rained every day recently, often for a long time. Yesterday we had a hailstorm, and it’s pouring outside as I write, thus putting paid to our projected pitch-and-putt with the Robinsons. Helpfully, Anglian Water has sent us a leaflet describing lots of different ways to save water, like spending two minutes less in the shower. I would put this into effect immediately, except that I don’t have showers in the normal run of things. It doesn’t say anything about baths. One question: if water pipes are leaking all over the place, shouldn’t that be helping in terms of the water table? I suspect not, but I don’t know why.

Anyway, Dot has baked a cake. So we can have afternoon tea instead of pitch-and-putt. And I’ve managed to write my sermon for Sunday, though I have no doubt it will be changed before delivery.

Yesterday was my father’s 99th birthday, and today is Jack Earl’s, which means he is one day younger (than my father). And has lived 57 years longer, which doesn’t seem fair. Having a bit of trouble with his daughter at the moment: Rob and I went to St Peter Hungate on Monday to sort out plans for our event there in June; on reporting these to Lucy, it turns out that she wasn’t anticipating an evening event or sharing the proceeds with the church, both of which we’d agreed. So not sure what will happen. I have written a linking script and Rob has designed some publicity.

Dot is considerably better, but still has a bit of a cough. She spent most of the day yesterday at the Cathedral for a church school head teachers’ conference. Meanwhile I went to the John Innes Centre in pouring rain for the Archant annual meeting.  Very few people there that I knew: no-one from EDP editorial except the editor, and no editorial pensioners. Spoke to Robyn Bechelet, Kath Silver, Ann Lown, Mike Almond and Doug Bird before I spilled some red wine on myself and made a fairly swift exit, pausing only for a bit more of the delicious buffet, which seems to get better every year.

Johnny Hustler gave an interesting talk (oh, yes he did) about Archant innovations, including a device whereby you could use an iPhone to run a video by pointing it at an ad in a magazine, which seems pretty amazing to me. Whatever next? No, don’t tell me.

On Sunday we went to have a look at Happisburgh, where they have astonishingly built a new car park on the cliff and a ramp down to the beach. They are also in process of demolishing some cliff-edge houses. Dot and I walked down to the beach and back in a bitterly cold wind, then repaired to Jessie’s for a cup of tea, with Roger in attendance.