Tag Archives: Norwich City

Dot plays key role in Wembley triumph

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Canaries celebrate their play-off final victory.
Canaries celebrate their play-off final victory.

Yes, it was worth it. But it did require a lot of effort, and it was unexpectedly draining in terms of energy – and that was just us, not the players. Anyway Norwich City won the play-off final 2-0; so everything is fine. The EDP is making lots of money with its souvenir issues and add-ons, and that’s fine too.

We left Norwich around 9am, after picking up Naomi from a house in Alan Road (she had stayed the night there after the Radio 1 Big Weekend at Earlham Park) and a friend of Patrick’s case from a hotel on Newmarket Road. This is just one example of the number of things that had to be brought together for our mission to succeed.

There was lots of traffic on the road, of course, but no real problems until we stopped at South Mimms services on the A1 and Jonathan and Naomi decided to have a coffee. Since the services were crowded with supporters of one kind or another, this took a lot of time, and by the time we reached Stanmore station the car park was full. Not only that, but there were so many cars trying to find non-existent spaces that we took about 20 minutes to get out again.

We continued towards Wembley and a parking space that Jonathan had booked in someone’s drive through JustPark.com. We had no problem finding it, but the drive had two cars already parked in such a way that you couldn’t get a third in. Fortunately the owner was in and expressed astonishment that we had booked, since he had heard nothing from JustPark for two years. However, he was quite amenable to moving one of the other vehicles to give us space.

From there it was a longish walk to the stadium, and I was already feeling tired. We had to ask the way once, but then met Patrick’s brother William at Wembley Park Tube. He had booked us into a Nepali restaurant the other side of the stadium; we were already half an hour late, and it took about half an hour to walk there, by which time I was shattered. On the way we saw the Norwich City coach being barracked by Middlesbrough supporters, and Dot seized Patrick’s City shirt (he wasn’t wearing it) and waved it, receiving a thumbs-up from City skipper Russell Martin. We feel this was a key factor in their victory.

The restaurant was unexpectedly empty and the meal (very similar to Indian) very good, though I’m not sure curry and beer is the ideal meal to have in this situation. After it we walked back to the stadium, found the entrance and ascended into the sky, eventually reaching our seats three rows from the back. The view was unexpectedly good and clear, the only problem being that the people in front of us chose to stand all the way through the first half and most of the second. Very irritating.

Of course the match was pretty exciting, though not a classic, because Norwich were so much on top. The Middlesbrough supporters had mostly melted away by the time we joined the throng emerging for another long walk back to the car. I’m sure we didn’t go the quickest way, but I didn’t like to argue with William, who seemed to know the area. On the way we saw a genuine fight, with blood, between a small group of Middlesbrough supporters (no Norwich fans involved), followed by a number of police restraining another man near the Tube station.

Dot quite pleased at the result
Dot quite pleased at the result

We reached the car successfully (it seemed much further away than before) and after saying farewell to Patrick and William, took Naomi to Stanmore tube, where she was getting a train to stay with relatives in London. This was a slow journey, and at one point Naomi became desperate for the loo and had to rush into a Prezzo’s. Still, we made it and dropped her off.

The journey back to Norwich was incident-free, though I got us onto the M1 by mistake and we had to divert across by the St Albans route on tho the A1. But I don’t think it added much in the way of time. Jonathan dropped us off at about 9.20pm; we watched the cricket (England had beaten New Zealand in the first test, which David and Kevin had attended at Lord’s on the Saturday) and then fell into bed.

We spent all yesterday recovering, both of us being tired out. Dot chose this day to start us on a 5-2 diet (this was a 2), and I was too weak to argue.

The weekend, even without Wembley, was a full one. On Saturday we were invited to Adrian O’dell’s 70th birthday party, held at the CNS in their new Arc facility. I was surprised to see how much of the school was still recognisable. We sat at a table with a couple of blokes I don’t think I knew when I was at school (Harvey and Huggins) and their wives, and the evening was very enjoyable.

Since it was Adrian’s party, it was also highly organised and included a slide show of his life (exhausting even to watch, let alone live), plus a singing of the school song, a hog roast buffet, a quiz and various music, including a ukulele band, a very long eightsome reel, a choral group and a band called the Hobblers, who were actually quite good. Our table came equal first in the quiz but lost the actual prize on an extremely dubious tie-split. We were obviously gutted (not).

On Sunday, another party – this time Rodney’s 75th, at their Dereham home. It followed closely on a service which I not only preached at but led when the actual leader was double-booked. So we were half an hour late at Dereham, but this didn’t seem to matter. It was an excellent party, with fantastic buffet food, good company and even some games (crazy golf, boules) when it stopped raining.

Richard had his two daughters with him, and I spent some time talking to Charlotte’s newish husband, James, who turned out to be an estate agent. (Charlotte is Vicki’s tiny half-sister.) Vicki had recently broken up with her long-term partner Graham, so was not feeling on top of the world; she brought a female friend – Jane, I think – instead, and she was very nice. So all went well. They have giant fish in their pond. Very frightening. They are big fish in a small pond.

Scraping the barrel

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More fireworks. You can't beat a good firework.
More fireworks. You can’t beat a good firework.

I’ve just been to Morrison’s to get some mushrooms and tea, and have noted that Dot is on her way back from Liverpool, though I haven’t heard from her. She and Barbara have been delivering some philosophy to some staff at St Helens; they’ve been doing it all day, and now Dot has to drive back. According to the app, she’s now in Swincliffe Crescent, Cleckheaton, which doesn’t seem to make sense. Ah, well.

Earlier today I visited the doctor again and got in to see him only 35 minutes late. Apparently there is nothing wrong with me. My ultrasound scan revealed only a slight fattiness in the liver (no real problem), and the urology people have not got back to my GP, so that can’t be anything urgent. Or it’s so weird they can’t believe it. I suspect the former.

Quite cold today (and yesterday), but a vast improvement on the weekend, which was almost constant rain, just right (not) for the visit of David, Oliver and Amy. We got the table tennis table out again; so that was all good. But we stayed indoors on Saturday morning, and in the afternoon, during a brief break in the wetness, Dot, David and Oliver went to see Norwich draw 3-3 with Brighton while I spent an hour in Hobbycraft with Amy. She was very careful and wouldn’t let me spend any money on her, but she ended up with a white Christmassy branch / tree, some snow, some lights and some other stuff, which we manoeuvred home.

In the evening we all went with Philip and Anne to Prezzo’s, where we discovered that our favourite waitress was on her last shift and was moving to Nando’s. May have to give that a try.

On Sunday we had to scrape the barrel to get a service together. Ruth was supposed to be leading, but she was in Wales. Then Howard was supposed to be leading and preaching, but he was in London with a family crisis. Phil was in Bristol, and Dot was looking after our family; so I ended up leading and playing the guitar, and Anna did a lectio divina in the sermon slot. Add two unsuspecting readers, and it went quite well.

Our family departed just after 2pm, and the journey back seemed to go reasonably quickly. It was still raining, but Dot and I both decided to go to Soul Circus at the Cathedral with Judy. David and Bridget were there, and it was enjoyable, though I think it could be improved.

Last night I got the bus to attend a Science and Faith lecture at Holy Trinity, where I encountered Peter Bussey and Rod Kibble. It was a very good talk on the mystical experiences that people with epilepsy sometimes had: the speaker was excellent, relaxed and witty and not afraid to use the three words “I don’t know” when he didn’t. Thought-provoking. Annoyingly I forgot to take my phone; so my two-mile walk home did not register on my Moves app.

Going back in time, we had a coffee and compline at Claire’s on the Tuesday and a haircut on Wednesday – just in time for Dot to make it to orchestra rehearsal. An unexpected bonus.

Exploring Oxnead

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Part of the original Oxnead Hall buildings
Part of the original Oxnead Hall buildings

It’s that difficult time when you’re almost ready to go on holiday, but not quite. In fact in about 90 minutes’ time I shall be showing a visiting author round the Norwich Paston sites, which will take up most of the afternoon, so that should take my mind off it. There has also been some dramatic and unexpected news from church, but I can’t reveal what it was – yet.

We have had our hair cut, so we are ready for anything. I was even ready for another request from Parish Pump to write a 300-word piece for May – this time on Gerard Manley Hopkins, who happens to be one of my favourite poets. Managed to put the words together yesterday, and they’ve been accepted.

Monday was quite exciting, and not just because it rained extremely hard in the evening. Caroline, Rob and I visited Oxnead Hall in the morning to look at where and how we could put on a Chronicle performance in September (26th).  The piece will centre on the history of the hall, and afterwards we rehearsed the first draft and made some improvements, which I have to work in on my return from Florida.

The hall’s owner, Beverley Aspinall, made us very welcome and showed us round the gardens and into a couple of amazing performance spaces they have available – one in what were the barns, and the other in the orangery.

In the evening we went with Judy to Vicky’s, where we were joined by David and Bridget for tea, wine, cakes and compline. I forgot I wasn’t driving, so didn’t have any wine. I really think senility is setting in.

Yesterday we spent preparing for the holiday, partly by catching up with paperwork and partly (mainly Dot) getting the clothes together.  Which leaves Saturday and Sunday, during which the Norwich City manager was sacked following a poor display at home to West Brom (0-1) and we had a really nice service at church, with Phil leading. I did the sermon and prayers, and Dot read a long passage about the raising of Lazarus. Several people said they liked the sermon, which was nice, and in the afternoon we went out to see Jessie at North Walsham, which was also nice.

I have the American dollars, and unfortunately Oliver has impetigo, which means he has to go to the doctor’s tomorrow (he’s been once). Hope it doesn’t prevent him enjoying the holiday. We have fed the fish for Sam while they were away and woke them up this morning (Sam and Ellie, not the fish) to make sure they were back when we saw a strange man wandering in and out of their house. Turns out he was fixing the boiler.

Houghton Hall visited

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Anna and Dot leave Skyscape at Houghton Hall
Anna and Dot leave Skyscape in the grounds of Houghton Hall

The weather continues warm, but the dryness isn’t what it was. In fact, sometimes the dryness is wet – as yesterday, when after having our hair cut we stayed indoors most of the day and moped, especially after Norwich City FC, replete with new stars, managed to lose 1-0 to Hull after Hull had been reduced to ten men for two-thirds of the match. Nevertheless, we have tickets for Tuesday’s game against Bury, captained by Dot’s cousin Gareth. Adrian and Clarissa are coming over.

It had poured during Friday night, and it even rained a bit when we took Anna on Thursday to Houghton Hall Revisited: a major Norfolk event of the year, running for several months. The idea is to show off pictures sold by Britain’s first prime minister and Houghton Hall owner Sir Robert Walpole to Catherine the Great in the 18th century – now lent back to the hall by Russia and replaced (mainly) where they originally hung.

Houghton Hall is a beautiful building in a stunning setting, but while some of the pictures were impressive, many of them weren’t. However, we really enjoyed the visit – a brief account of which can be found here.

Dot had spent the day in London on Wednesday, accompanied by her friend Anne. They travelled first class and ate in two rather nice restaurants. Dot also bought a hat for an upcoming family wedding. Meanwhile I frittered away much of the time but did manage to get some work done, largely my sermon for today.

On Friday, after Dot had managed to get an appointment at the doctor’s for a few routine matters, we eventually entertained Joe and Birgit to lunch. They both seemed on good form, with Birgit looking much better than recent reports had suggested. She looked very good indeed, in fact, and we had a lovely evening – some of it out in the garden.

Gentleman rose grower Peter Beales dies

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Peter Beales and his sister Rosie earlier on in his career

Another busy week, despite the snow restricting our movements. Now, at last, the white stuff has gone and been replaced by rainy but much warmer weather. Today is around 10C or more and Dot was “sweltered” on returning from a brief foray to buy a frame for a photo of Ethel (for her birthday later this week, when she is 89, and not 90, whatever she says).

It is a week, however, that will be remembered mainly for the death of Peter Beales, rose grower supreme, Dot’s cousin and all-round gentleman. He succumbed to pneumonia on Saturday afternoon (26 Jan), while Norwich City were going out of the F A Cup to non-League Luton Town. It is four months since his wife died. A sad loss, and a shattering blow to his children, Richard and Amanda.

We received the news from Amanda in the evening. Earlier we had been at Jessie’s after visiting the cemetery (Dot’s Mum’s birthday is also this week). While there we listened to the Norwich City debacle on radio. Later Dot was in deep telephonic conversation with Angela about how to break the news about Peter to Ethel, but in the event she took it without flinching. We visited her yesterday after a drop-in at the supermarket, and she was in good form.

Last Wednesday, with plenty of snow still on the ground, I met Elizabeth McDonald at the Cathedral Refectory to discuss her contribution to the Paston event at Dragon Hall in May. She’s doing a PhD on Books the Pastons Read,  and so will fit in well with the literary theme. Later I drove up to the doctor’s in Dot’s car (because she was using mine) and almost got it stuck outside the house, such is the unsuitability of rear-wheel drive to snowy conditions. Strangely when I returned it shot up the hill with no trouble.

I had had to pick up pills from the chemist as well as call in to the doctor’s to register myself for making online appointments – the latter prompted by my having to cancel Thursday’s appointment, when I accompanied Rob to the Norfolk Record Office in place of the injured Lucy.  But I leap ahead. Also on the Wednesday I went to a meeting of the King Street Cultural Quarter, with whom we’re collaborating slightly on Dragon Hall. Quite amusing to witness the same kind of meeting the PHS has, but without the need to get involved. They are in fact in a worse state following the sudden resignation of their chairman and the reluctance of anyone to take over.

The meeting at the NRO next day was far more civilised – although Dr John Alban, the curator with whom we have been dealing, is also stepping down (retiring) at the end of March. We managed to get a clearish picture of what we’re doing, and it all seems very promising. The result should be a three-month exhibition on the Pastons at NRO starting in mid-October, with some talks by prominent people in the Paston world. Rob gave me a lift, and afterwards we called in at the ABC Wharf in King Street to view the venue for a possible photo exhibition. I think it can best be described as esoteric: a massive warehouse-type  space overlooking the river. Impressive but very, very cold.

Caroline with her book and the singer

After  church on Sunday, where the improved weather attracted a single-figure congregation, Dot and I drove to Fakenham for the launch of Caroline Gilfillan’s new poetry book, Pepys. As you might guess, it is all about the famous diarist, and part of the launch consisted of Caroline, in period costume together with three friends, performing some of the poems, excerpts from the diaries and a couple of songs. On approaching the house we encountered Rob and Penny, with whom we enjoyed the afternoon. Fortuitous, as we knew no-one else except Caroline. Obviously we bought the book. And ate the food.

Party for returning City fans

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Patricia, Liz and Jacqui by the pool at Snares Hill Cottage

Tomorrow our furniture is returning, although Amy and Oliver agreed yesterday that they liked the living room as it is: spacious. Dot and I had returned the hi-fi and the television to the room and re-hung the curtains, but other than that we had restricted ourselves to just a couple of chairs, the piano stool and some cushions, plus temporary children’s items.

The children, and David, were with us overnight on Friday so that Oliver could go with Dot to the Norwich City match against West Ham, which was a kind of birthday present, four days late. His main present, also late of course, was a new guitar, which he seemed to like. It is a Yamaha, and has a nice tone. I also bought him a book on the Friday when I popped into the city to buy a new lectionary diary.

The redecoration and roof were finished on Tuesday as scheduled. On Wednesday Dot and I travelled to Duck End in Essex for another Otterspool reunion, at the home of Pete and Liz Stabler. Beautiful house, and a much better day than had been forecast, so we were able to spend time wandering around the stunning and extensive garden. Pete had broken his back falling from a ladder a couple of months ago, but was able to get around wearing a brace. Also present were Alan and Janice, Barry and Pat and Jacqui and Brian – and Pete Stokes, whose wife Jan died suddenly a few months ago. Great to see him; really pleased he came.

We had had a hard time finding the house (though we’d both been there before), but we eventually asked, and got good directions. On the way home we went a more direct but complicated route through Bury St Edmunds (instead of Saffron Walden and the A11) and encountered some of the darkest clouds I’ve ever seen, together with very heavy rain. Still, we made it without incident, thanks to Dot’s calm driving.

We had a lovely day with David and the children. Oliver enjoyed the match, despite the 0-0 scoreline, and Amy enjoyed playing, partly on her own and partly with me: she (we) prepared a Norwich City party for the wanderers’ return, which went down very well. The rest of us all availed ourselves of the table tennis table, newly released from its burden of curtains – best storage space I could think of.

After the service this morning, at which refurbishers of the church hall were officially thanked and we had three unexpected visitors from the UEA, we had a lunch prepared by Carrie and others. Afterwards Dot and I had a game of table tennis, during which I found a box of old chess games and books that I had lost. So quite satisfying really.

Rain and champagne

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Queen Amy
Queen Amy processes down the castle steps during our holiday in Llanberis.

The time is just flashing by. Probably something to do with my being 65. It looked as if it was going to be a quiet week, but something happened every day, which I guess is better than the alternative. Tuesday was our 42nd wedding anniversary, and we celebrated with lunch at Caffee Uno (during which it poured with rain outside) and champagne at Tuesday Group. On Wednesday, Dot and I met Jessie at Jarrold’s, had a meal with her and then brought her home to look at our Welsh pictures on Apple TV. To make up for it, we took her home afterwards. On Thursday I went to the hospital while Dot was at Ethel’s. I received a certain amount of reassurance concerning rehabilitation from my operations; I had been feeling a bit down about it. Actually my health is quite good, and I walked halfway home afterwards. It was a bit muggy, so I took a bus the rest of the way: in fact the mugginess has been a constant over the last few days.

On Friday I drove over to Paston while Dot carried through the second stage of a mammoth house-cleaning project, and met with Lucy and Annette to discuss taking the Paston project to Oxburgh Hall. Annette and I will be offering a workshop, if we can work out how to organise it. Every sign that the Paston thing will extend some way into the future, and that there will be more poems and artwork to come from it. Maybe a second book, though it will different from the first – no more copies of which can be printed because several of the plates have unbelievably collapsed or gone missing. I have to write the words for a flyer and a press release, and later this month will be going to Oxburgh Hall with Annette to reconnoitre. After the discussion Annette and I were treated by Lucy  to lunch at the Ship in Mundesley: we all went for the fish and chips, and were not disappointed. Good service: according to Lucy, they only employ graduates. That must be illegal, because it works so well.

In the evening we were given a lift by Vicky and Jared to Roger’s birthday do in Thorpe. As none of us knew anyone else there (except Roger’s son Philip) we spent most of the evening talking to each other and had a good time. Met Roger’s new girlfriend, who seemed extremely nice. We had a little too much to drink, but survived without medical help. Ho, ho.

David came up on Saturday to accompany us to the friendly match between Norwich City and Everton, which ended 2-4. Quite encouraged by the performance of the new Canaries, especially Andrew Crofts. Norwich gave away a couple of soft goals, but weren’t hopelessly outclassed. It was 2-2 for a while. Well, about a minute, I think. Although it was raining when David arrived shortly before 2pm I successfully predicted no more rain after about 2.15pm, after consulting three different forecasts. So we bravely managed without umbrellas. Still very warm, as it is today. Afterwards I showed David our Welsh photos, and then we watched the European Athletics championships, at which we did quite well. Appropriately, a Welsh one-two in the 400m hurdles. England also doing quite well against Pakistan in the test match. David stayed overnight, and left about 10 this morning.

Today Ruth was taking the service for the first time, and I gave Steve a hand with the music. We had originally intended to be in London with the Coomes’, but Maurice has been very ill, and David and Kristine are up in Yorkshire. Ruth and Steve did really well, and I’m trying to persuade Ruth to do it on a regular basis (and Steve to join the music group). Good sermon by Margaret.

Have done a bit of work in the garden, but not as much as Dot, obviously. I’ve cut back some roses from above the potatoes, and we’ve tidied up at the front too. Our brown bin runneth over.

Scarves, face paint and flags

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Norwich City players tour the city centre by bus to celebrate the championship

Weather is still chilly, but the forecast is warmer air moving in over the weekend. About time. Still, it’s not bad walking weather – when it doesn’t rain. Yesterday I did about 4 miles, starting through the Rosary, down Ketts Hill and up to St James’ Hill, then walking across the other side of Mousehold to Sprowston Road, then a bit further round the “inner link” before getting a bus to Tombland and walking home. Hard going at first, but easier the further I went.

Later on Dot and I did some additional walking when we went up to Castle Meadow to witness the open-top bus tour by Norwich City players, champions of League One. Got a reasonably good view and some excellent pictures, considering the crowds. Sun was shining brightly: atmosphere enthusiastic in that slightly self-deprecating way that is typical of Norfolk people. Of course there are also the wild enthusiasts, to whom football is a religion. Lot of slightly bemused little children in scarves, wearing face paint and waving flags. Also salesmen selling expensive cheap memorabilia. Helicopter and motorbikes, ambulance and bus: how could it not be fascinating?

Managed to finish editing the book yesterday and have sent off a few queries to the author before letting her have the final version. A strange book, skating over what appear to be serious events and going into great detail about trivia. the subject of the book herself is undoubtedly interesting, though to tell the truth a bit irritating at times. But you have to admire her perseverance and positive attitude to all kinds of problems.

On Wednesday evening we went to the Theatre Royal to hear John McLaughlin and band (the 4th Dimension) as part of the Norfolk and Norwich Festival. The technique of the musicians was stunning: some of McLaughlin’s guitar-playing was almost unbelievable, and keyboardist Gary Husband was also exceptional, as were the bass guitar player, Etienne M’Bappe, and drummer Mark Mondesir. Hard to pin down the type of music – sort of progressive and jazzy – but it is the kind that becomes very samey after a while. You are amazed at the virtuosity of the musicians but yearn for a tune or, more particularly, a singer. For the connoisseurs, certainly, and there were times, especially in the first hour, when I was spellbound. But…  We actually left early, not because we we were bored but because Dot had a very early start for a school inspection the next day. The audience was also a bit odd: there was a lot of coming and going to the loo, starting as early as about a quarter of an hour in, and the woman sitting in front of me was exceptionally irritating because she would not sit still. She sat back, then forward, then put something on, then leaned over on to her partner, then went through the whole cycle again. And none of it in time to the music. All in all, a rather unreal evening.