Seem to have been working quite hard, which is not like me. On Friday, while Dot was out and about, I listened to the King Street interviews and wrote five poems, four of which I’ve sent off a few minutes ago to the person in charge of the project. Most of my time, however, has been spent moving furniture in preparation for the grand floor-change enterprise, which will take up most of this coming week.
Some of the furniture has gone in the garage, some upstairs. The big filing cabinet is in the downstairs loo (all the files were removed and then replaced), and the smaller one in the utility room with the fridge. Smaller things are upstairs or (again) in the garage. We tried to move the big table into the garage, but it was beyond us. We may be able to manage it tomorrow, when Gary comes to take up the carpet and screw down the chipboard. He is a carpenter, so he should be able to move tables.
This morning, after about three or four inches of overnight snow, we decided to walk to church. Quite pleasant too, except that I arrived home absolutely exhausted. I don’t know why, because we’d had a meal at church. Admittedly, walking in snow is tiring, but we’d had no problem in the Peak District. Maybe moving furniture took more out of me than I thought. We bade farewell to Matthew at church today. He is off to London this week. However, more things are now happening at church, and I’m optimistic about it.
Last Friday we had an evening meal with the Kibbles. Rod is a nice guy who goes into things in great depth. I try to keep up. Next day (yesterday) Dot got a ticket from Jonathan to watch Norwich beat Bolton 2-0. Lucy is out of hospital, but far from well.
Rarely seen in Paston times, a teddy bear is glimpsed on its way to church by balloon.
Another busy few days – particularly the last two. Yesterday Dot and I went down to Caddington together – but in separate cars – to celebrate Oliver’s ninth birthday (which is in fact tomorrow, but hey, let’s not quibble). We arrived in time to eat our packed lunch before going to school with David to pick up Amy. We then brought her back, and Dot and I returned an hour later to pick up the birthday boy. Surprise for both children!
David cooked lamb for the evening meal, and Dot contributed a blackberry and apple crumble from fruit foraged in their garden. Oliver opened our presents, which mainly related to his Hornby train set, and David swiftly inserted the new items (he also bought some track). Made the layout much better, I thought. Oliver and Amy both in good form: first time we’d seen them since Canada.
I then drove home, leaving Dot to stay overnight and enjoy another day there, joined by the Coomes. I had to be in Norfolk to take Lucy’s role in the Blofield Paston Heritage Day, which consisted of giving talks relating to the Paston book and the family history. I had spent quite a lot of time in the last few days researching the Pastons’ Blofield period, with some success. I was thus able to speak with rather more authority than would have been the case a week ago. It still wasn’t a huge amount of authority, but it was good enough, especially as most of the talks centred on the handmade book, which is now three years old.
Lucy did come for a short while, but she was too ill to take any effective part. Caroline and Rob contributed to the central talk (ie the 2nd of 3) by reading poems, and Diane from Oxburgh also read hers. They seemed to go quite well. Naomi and her boyfriend were also there helping for a while, as was Simeon, who is moving into a house two streets away from us. Jonathan was also there, as were his parents. I also met a classmate from the CNS – David Pilch. They crop up everywhere. Nice bloke. The Blofield people generally did a superb job, and loads of people came. I was especially impressed by the teddy bear balloon rides, although these occur very rarely in the Paston Letters.
Skipping back a week to last Saturday, we were at Wymondham, enjoying a barbecue in the sun with the parents of Matt Creber, our former lodger, who is now in Palestine. He was also at the barbecue with his American girlfriend Laurie, who I spent quite a lot of time talking to. She’s a sweetie. Dot and I also talked a lot with Wayne, an astro-physicist who teaches RE and has ideas a lot in common with Dot’s philosophy for children. We gave him a lift home to Thorpe where, coincidentally, I have just discovered that the Pastons had a home in the 16th century (Thorpe Hall). Wayne lives in Bishop’s Close, however, which is another coincidence: Thorpe Hall was more recently owned by the Bishop of Norwich.
Matt’s parents were lovely, as was his sister. None of these ordered two large items for the church amplifier when they meant to order one, but Matt did, which meant I had to pick it up from the church hall, repackage it and send it off. It cost over £13 to send, so it might have been better value for money to flog it on eBay. Or something. While picking it up I also checked a broken window in the hall, which was not as bad as it sounds (double glazing), brushed some cobwebs off the guttering and windows, and swept loads of stones off the hall surround. No, I’m not the churchwarden: Matt is. He’s in Palestine. I may have mentioned that.
That same evening (Thursday) Dot and I went to the Cathedral Hostry to hear a talk on the language of the King James Bible given by Gordon Campbell. This may not sound exciting, but it was brilliant: he’s a really witty speaker and knowledgeable too. Picked up a lot of information, most of which I’ve already forgotten. I wish I had a better memory, but then if I did, who knows what I’d remember…
This was the second evening in a row we’d been to a lecture, which must constitute some kind of record. The previous night we were at Paston Church to hear Richard Hoggett, the Norfolk coastal heritage officer, launch the Paston Reading the Past in our Landscape project. He as also a good speaker, and much of what he had to say was really interesting, though I have to say pre-history is not a great love of mine. He was able to point us to a lot of interesting online material which will relate to the Pastons. There will be a number of events over the next six months.
On Tuesday Dot spent a very wet day (or part of it) at Beeston Hall School, near Sheringham, with Barbara for a P4C session. She came home very positive and bubbly about it. In the evening we had a smallish Tuesday Group. Smallish, but beautifully formed.
Crane feeding its baby at Pensthorpe: the unhurried lifestyle
Yet again time has flashed by since my past post, and here I am at the start of a significant new era without having adequately chronicled the last seven days. Today the two of us will be joined by a friend, Matthew, who will lodge with us until the end of July. He is house-hopping, because in August he moves to stay with other friends. September? Ah, that’s when he moves even further – to Palestine to take up a post with a mission organisation specialising in education, which is his area of expertise. Not the sort of secure existence that most of us yearn for: the (at least temporary) absence of a home must be difficult. We shall do our best to make him feel welcome.
It’s been another busy week. Of course. I think I’m now prepared for our Canadian excursion, except for buying the currency, letting our card providers know where we’re going to be and checking what I need to do to stop my mobile phone from racking up a huge bill. Dot has been rushing from school to school, mainly fulfilling her DSSO obligations, and this will culminate on Saturday, when she hurtles down to Reading to take part in an education exhibition on behalf of her company, Philosophy4Children.
So our lives have often been taking different courses. Dot missed a sparsely attended DCC meeting, a walk round Norwich with Paston poets on a burning hot Sunday afternoon, a Naked in Norwich private view in St Benedict’s on Monday evening and a nine-mile Paston Walk on Tuesday. Not that she would have come on that, any more than she would have come to my three-hour session on Writing News yesterday afternoon for a Bridges creative writing group. These are people who have mental health problems but are still functioning pretty well, and it was a surprisingly enjoyable time. I did get paid adequately for it too, which is only fair considering the amount of preparation that I did. I used the “Welsh cousin rescues woman from car” story as an interview/press conference tool, and it worked nicely.
The walk on Tuesday was interesting. It was hot in Norwich, but by the time I reached Paston there was a chill in the air from a sea mist, which made walking easier, though I wasn’t really dressed for it. Fortunately I had a fleece which I donned to supplement my shorts. It was supposed to be a six-mile walk, through Edingthorpe and Bacton (via Bromholm Priory) and back along the coast to Paston, but I actually measured close to nine (partly because I was unable to find a critical track from the clifftop across a wheatfield and had to walk it back again to find out where it started – after going a longer way round in the first place. Encountered a couple and their son at Edingthorpe who used to live there but had moved to Heacham. The husband had two drawings of the church inside. Engaged me in conversation for a while (then again on the road, and again at Bacton Church), and as a result I missed the fish and chip shop at Bacton and had to be satisfied with an ice cream. Managed to fall over quite heavily in Bacton, but threw myself on to the verge and avoided serious injury – or even trivial injury, if you don’t count a graze on my arm.
The Paston poets’ meeting on Sunday (to discuss our next project) featured a drink in the Olive Tree before a walk up Elm Hill, a quick look at St Peter Hungate and a pause at St Andrew’s Hall, which was conveniently shut. Three of us (Kay and Adrian with me) then walked on to King Street, dropping in at Dragon Hall and Julian’s cell before taking in the plaque at the Music House – allegedly the oldest house in Norwich. It was preceded by lunch at church to say farewell to the Cracknells: Heather is going to be a curate in Cringleford after her ordination on Saturday. Moving occasion – Paul led the service and Heather preached. Nicholas did a final liturgy that included the children, Rhianna and Finnan.
Another big church event was Donna’s wedding to Jason in the old church building. She is a very quiet, lovely woman with four children whose former husband left her. Her friends and family, however, were pretty much all noisy, and the reception at the hall afterwards – and at Dunston Hall in the evening – proved boisterous. Other than Donna, Nicholas and Heather, we knew practically no-one at the Dunston Hall hog roast, but we sat at a table with congenial people and had a good time. Very kind of her to invite us: Dot has always been close to her after they were in a small prayer group some years ago. They will be living in Gorleston in future, so we lose another church presence in The Lathes: Donna has been making bookings for the hall, and this will pass to Cheryl, our cleaner.
Naked in Norwich was a Twenty Group exhibition to which I was invited by poet Hilary Mellon, who opened it (she booked me for Bridges too). It was (self-evidently) a collection of nude drawings, and I amused myself trying to distinguish between guests who were artists, models or simply friends. Surprises at the private view: Elvira, our Peruvian friend from church; Rosemary, the librarian from Archant; Philippa, the stone-cutter; Martin Mitchell, the artist whose etching we own; and Sandra, the artist I collaborated with a couple of years ago. Plus a few others. Sadly absent: Rüthli Losh-Atkinson, the other artist I collaborated with and a fine drawer of nudes, who died not long ago.
