Tag Archives: maryta

Far Cry gets street cred

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Heading off for Caddington later today, before staying the night there and then catching a flight to Nice for our holiday in  Montauroux. Before that the piano tuner will arrive and do his stuff, no doubt reflecting simultaneously on the forthcoming Norwich v Ipswich playoffs and the SNP clean sweep of Scotland in the General Election. With a few votes still to be counted, the Conservatives have managed to get an overall majority – to everyone’s surprise. Resignations of Miliband, Clegg and Farage imminent. Resignations of a few pollsters would also be appropriate.

Our constituency, Norwich South, ousted Lib Dem Simon Wright and gave a huge majority to Labour. When we voted there was, for the first time in recorded memory, a queue at the polling station.

There were other big events this week. On Monday evening our band, Far Cry, performed at the Bicycle Shop cafe as part of Julian Week, and it all went pretty well, with some people from church (Carrie, Judy, Mary…) giving us moral support. Quite a nice number listening. Great to be able to sing my own songs to an actual audience who didn’t have to be there and weren’t performing themselves.

Emily and Lawrence helped us a lot, not least with street cred and the electrical stuff. Lawrence also recorded it, but was dubious about the sound quality. Between rehearsals and the actual event we had a light tapas meal upstairs, which was very good.

Next day we both went to the Archant coffee morning – together with Brian and Tricia and Maryta and Paul. Something of an EDP subs and spouses takeover. Robin had an eye appointment, so couldn’t make it.

The same day Naomi came to stay the night. Always nice to have her around: she had to see someone at UEA the next day; so she left around 12 and so did we, to hear a Julian talk at the library. Had some trouble finding where it was because they had switched it, which meant we were slightly late (and annoyed), but it was a good talk by Sheila Upjohn about how the Julian manuscript had survived in view of its “heretical” insistence that God loves us anyway. It involved some nuns in Cambrai and a few well-placed supporters.

Eleanor was in the audience; we had a chat afterwards.

Yesterday I went to see Paul, who thought I was someone named Kim (clearly my phone voice is not what it might be). I went mainly to ask him about a woman called Irene, but he couldn’t remember anything. However, while talking to Phil on the phone afterwards, it turned out that he did know an Irene, and it may turn out to be the woman Joy’s uncle was asking about (connected to Surrey Chapel way, way back). We shall see.

I was ringing Phil because he’s introduced me to a singer called Malcolm Guite, and I was giving him my reaction. He’s pretty good, actually.

Journey into the past

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A view from Killington Lake services on the way back from Scotland

The visit to Coventry went smoothly in reasonably warm and dry weather. I took the MX5 and quite enjoyed the experience, using the direct route and putting up with the road works on the A14. I arrived at the Premier Inn on Kenpas Highway at around 7pm and filled up at the BP station opposite. After a cup of tea, I decided to walk up the hill (further than I thought) and down Beanfield Avenue to where I used to live, more than 60 years ago.

Not much has changed except at the very bottom of the road, where some housing has been built and a fence blocks access to a school sports field, which used to be two green meadows ideal for playing in. You can still see the wood in the distance, and to my surprise I discovered that the rail track at the bottom of our garden is not only still there but functioning.

Returning to the hotel, I bought a sandwich, crisps and small bottle of wine from the petrol station M&S and ate it while watching England play rather badly against Norway. The room was quite small and a bit dark, but comfortable, and the receptionist was very friendly. Breakfast next morning came with East European efficiency and was at least a full English, if not brilliantly cooked. The tea was excellent, though.

I drove to Minster Lodge and arrived early for the meeting, though not before Elaine (his carer). Shortly afterwards we were joined by Matt, from Coventry Council’s financial department, and we spoke for about an hour, after which he said that it seemed clear to him that Andrew should get full funding under something called Section 117. But of course he has to refer to his manager, and so on. However, they have undertaken to pay for the past year – no strings – which is good.

Afterwards Andrew and I went out, and he showed me a really nice walk across the bridge and through some nice streets to Memorial Park, where we had coffee/tea and a scone and chocolate bun (both Andrew). We strolled back slowly, and at Helen’s suggestion I checked to see if he needed new trousers, deciding that he did. So when I got home I sent a cheque.

The journey back also went well after a brief stop at Morrisons to use the toilets and buy a sandwich, which I ate in a lay-by on the A14. I was home well before 4pm.

Yesterday Maryta rang as we were getting up to ask if she could pop in at 11am after delivering her friend Barbara to the station. We had drinks and quite a long chat before she left to meet Paul for lunch. He’s teaching on three days a week at Norwich School (not all day). In the course of our chat, we were invited to lunch at the Hendersons tonight, following the Coomes’ cancellation of their visit because of David’s badly bloodshot eye.

In the afternoon Dot and I went into the city to get my glasses fixed and to buy a few things for Oliver, who started senior school this week and who is 12 next week. We also went to the Forum to see a short film made by the Norfolk Wildlife Trust about the tidal surge at the end of last year. Some remarkable pictures, but apparently the coast, including the wildlife, has made a remarkable recovery. Which just goes to prove my theory that nature is much better at conservation than we are, and also knows when to make changes.

We arrived home just in time to have our hair cut, following which we ate half the chicken we had bought for the Coomes’ visit.

This morning Dot has gone to the chemist to get some pills she had forgotten to re-order, and I am back in front of my computer, slowly catching up as usual.

Beginning of the end of an era

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The sea encroaching at Salthouse
The sea encroaching at Salthouse

Significant week in the history of St Augustine’s.  We had our annual meeting on Tuesday – excellent food from Karen & Co as usual – and a good talk from visitor Keith Elliott, representing Inclusive Church, which the parish is thinking of joining. Then Nicholas dropped his bombshell – he and his family are leaving, and going to Aspen, Colorado, some time in the summer.

Actually, we already knew this, but most of the people present didn’t, and there was a bit of a stunned silence, followed by a few nice things being said. Obviously things will be difficult in the interregnum, but I think it’s the right move for him.

Mr Elliott was staying the night with us. I’d already walked him up to the Cathedral in the afternoon, and he was a considerate guest. We also felt we were on his wavelength. The next morning Nicholas came round to have a chat with him, and after a walk on his own Keith joined us for a cold lunch, during which the man came to service the burglar alarm. Not great timing, but he was very pleasant, and things went smoothly.

In the afternoon Rob and Caroline came round for a Chronicle read-through and discussion. I have a bit of reorganisation to do on the Oxnead script, as well as some design work on the forthcoming book. Time marches on: I’m a bit worried that it won’t get done in time, but I expect it will.

On Thursday evening we went to Claire’s for dinner after a day of wondering whether she’d remembered or not: she ignored an e-mail and didn’t answer her phone, but in fact all was well and we had an excellent meal.

All week a Toys R Us trolley had been languishing on the pavement outside, and we’d been a bit worried it might end up being pushed into our car, or someone else’s. Eventually I worked up the energy to push it through the city and back to its base. It was heavy and had a bit of a mind of its own (especially downhill), but I took it up Prince of Wales Road, Queen Street, St Andrew’s and down Westwick Street and left it outside the shop. On the way back I spoke to a Big Issue seller who had been a trolley boy in Hamilton, outside Glasgow, and used to fetch back trolleys that customers had taken home. That’s what we need here.  He was against independence but wasn’t allowed to vote because he didn’t live in Scotland.

In the evening Linda cancelled our hair appointment again, and we are rescheduled for next Wednesday. Tonight we were due to have Fred and Sue to stay before the CNS reunion event tomorrow, but they have cancelled too for family reasons, though they’re hoping to come down tomorrow morning. This morning Maryta and Paul called in for coffee while looking at two more houses, their original vendor having created problems. They have the kind of schedule  that makes our hectic ones seem positively sedentary.