Tag Archives: pcc

Birthday meal hits spot

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Rather poor picture of our table at the Wensum View Hotel. Mary is on the left, Rachel is to the left of my vacant chair and Barbara to the right.
Rather poor picture of our table at the Wensum View Hotel. Mary is on the left, Rachel is to the left of my vacant chair and Barbara to the right. Dot is sitting next to a pilot whose name I forget.

Mary Thrower’s 70th birthday meal last Saturday turned out to be a delightful event, despite our not knowing anybody but Mary and Neville – plus, amazingly, Bernadette from Archant, who turned out to be their next-door neighbour.

The setting, despite rainy weather, was beautiful, with the room at the Wensum View Hotel looking way out over the golf course and the Wensum valley generally. The food was really delicious, despite the party being over 60 in number (quantity often reduces quality). And the six people who sat at out table were all very easy to get on with – in fact when nearly everyone had gone, our table was still all present and correct.

The number included Mary’s son Jamie (really nice guy) and his equally nice wife Rachel. I think the others were friends rather than relations: one couple came from Carleton Rode and the other from further away.

That was on Saturday. The following day I roused myself to lead the service at St Augustine’s in the presence of the new vicar, who was attending for the first time, as an observer. He stayed a long time afterwards and spoke to everyone. I wouldn’t be surprised if one of his aims is to get the two churches to do things together. That should be interesting.

The rest of the day was dull and rather oppressive: we couldn’t rouse ourselves to do anything much. But on Monday Colin came and fixed the garage door handle – which has unfortunately gone wrong since. He is coming again on Saturday. In the evening we had a PCC meeting at which for the first time in living memory St Augustine members almost made up 50% of the attendance. Howard didn’t make it, of course, but Eleanor and Judy did. I think we were a little less formal than the new vicar would have liked (what? no votes?), but no doubt there will be  conversion process, one way or the other. Simon gave a presentation on our registering as an individual charity, which you have to do when your turnover exceeds £100,000.

On Tuesday Barbara and her dog came to sort out some video for their p4c DVD and commandeered my computer to do so. I went to pay some cheques into the bank and wondered over to the Forum, where a young guy asked if I’d like to play chess (there’s a board game section in the library there). We had a good game, but he beat me after I hung a rook. I suggested he joined a local club. Enjoyed the game, but it sort of showed me I wasn’t up to what used to be my standard.

Yesterday was dull again, though warm. I got some work donned then went to Morrison’s with Dot for a fairly large bout of shopping before she disappeared to orchestra. An odd day.

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?

Table tennis triumph

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Dot in the woods at Felbrigg
Dot in the woods at Felbrigg

Busy day last Thursday: so busy that Dot got confused and ended up doing a presentation at Little Plumstead school instead of coming to the Paston members’ meeting at Bacton, where Susan Curran spoke rather well and then almost had a fight with Lucy about the Pastons’ reputation and origins.

Earlier we had a Chronicle meeting at Rob’s house, preparing the Oxnead event and discussing various other things, including the book. It seems I will be wearing some kind of costume. I may have to leave the country. Afterwards Rob and Penny entertained me to tea, which meant I was pretty full when faced with the fabled Paston refreshments.

Still, at least we all got there, despite signs declaring the Bacton road closed (it wasn’t). Apparently removing road signs afterwards isn’t included in the contract for repairing a road. Not many people at the talk, but a nice evening.

Dot and I missed an extraordinary meeting of the PCC that discussed the parish profile (probably a good thing), but I made some comments beforehand that Howard passed on. I called on him the next day and bumped into Beth, who is looking very well.

On the same day we emerged triumphant in our table tennis encounter with the Robinsons, despite not having practised. It was interspersed with lasagne and a couple of world cup quarter-finals, both of which were pretty dire. Philip went to sleep at one point.

Saturday and Sunday were quiet, apart from a lively Communion service and afters at church. Elvira brought a cake, and there was some jamming with Carrie (using my guitar), Dot and a guy from the farm, who plays the piano by ear.

Today, which has been muggy, Dot visited a couple of schools and continued the task she started yesterday: painting the kitchen. She claims to like doing it; so I let her do it (as if I had a choice). It all makes me feel uneasy, though.

Have had a look at Godfrey Sayers’ book and made him an offer. Haven’t heard from him; so it was probably ill-judged.

The kitten and the rabbit

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Geoff sitting in his garden at Rockland
Geoff sitting in his garden at Rockland

I am now backed up. I have an external hard drive . If only that were true: in fact it is the computer that is backed up, now being linked to Time Machine, as it was designed to be. I myself am struggling along with the same old operating system that is showing signs of wear and tear. And I can’t get back to what I used to do.

I can’t even see very well, because I have new varifocal glasses that are designed to be clear in three different ways, but are in fact unclear in at least three, probably more. This morning I had to put my old reading glasses on to read the paper.

Oh, well. I’ve managed to walk about four miles today – mainly to the Norfolk Record Office to hear a talk by Elizabeth McDonald on “Books the Pastons Read”. Similar to the one she did at Dragon Hall, but not the same. Quite interesting, as Stephen Fry might say.

Last night we had a mammoth PCC meeting to discuss the increase in the parish share and how we were going to meet it. One of those dreadful meetings where you wish you were somewhere else. If church is about raising money, I’m not interested. I have a meeting scheduled with the new treasurer for the parish, one Susannah McGuire. I was relieved to find that she probably knows less about church accounting than I do. Sadly, that is not much.  I warmed to her.

Earlier, before I got my non-focal glasses, I had a visit from Adrian Bell, the potential publisher of our tanka book. He seemed reasonably impressed. It’s just about done; I’m now waiting to hear from him what other information he needs to go in it, such as price, and whether it should have a spine – which is about as ironic as you can get.

After the piano tuner left (see last post) I went out to Rockland to see Geoff. The weather was pretty cold, but dry, and he was keen to walk in the garden. So we did it. A little unsteady, but in the circumstances remarkable. He had his carer, Lisa, with him, and she was lovely – made tea and provided (Sophie’s) fruit cake.

Next day (Friday) I went out to see Lucy, who continues to recover slowly from her cracked ribs. She has a personal assistant (carer) called Priscilla, who is also lovely. The two of us tried to put up a washing line in the garden: she was much better at it than me. She is also gradually organising the house, which will be interesting. Meanwhile the kitten and the rabbit have a peculiar relationship: the kitten puts its paw through the bars of the rabbit cage and touches the rabbit, which ignores it. Doesn’t try to get out of the way – just ignores it.

Which is what I wish I’d done with the idea to employ a UEA intern for the Paston Heritage Society. This has now reached a ridiculous stage, with the lad doing very little work but clocking up huge numbers of hours. We received a bill from the UEA which Lucy is refusing to pay. Anna is very worried. I am now retiring from the conflict and letting them get on with it, which is a pity, as they’re both friends. At the moment.

On Saturday it was still cold , but Dot and I had tickets for Norwich v West Ham. In fact we had three tickets, so we invited Phil, who called round by chance the previous afternoon. City played very badly in the first half, so at half time I predicted we would win 3-1. Amazingly, we did. I am now regarded as a prophet. I am without honour in my own country, of course.

Exploding oven and torpedoed rehearsal

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Unusual use of aeroplane at County Hall. Or maybe things are not quite as they seem…

Spring has not yet put in an appearance, despite the equinox. The air remains chill, and there is further risk of snow at the weekend. On the plus side, there is some blue sky today.

The quiz went quite well last Saturday. Our group of six came 5th out of 11, which is respectable enough not to be embarrassing, and everyone contributed. It was also fun, and the fish and chips was not too bad. The wine helped. Cold walk home, though.

I led the service on Sunday, and Margaret preached. I used a very old hymn called It is well with my soul, which I introduced by listing all the problems the composer had gone through. The hymn made quite an impact, as it had done on my poet friend Joy, who sent it to me. Funny how these old hymns still work.

The PCC meeting on Monday attracted the usual high attendance from  St Augustine’s (Dot and me) and brought a discussion on whether the church should state where it stood on controversial issues such as women bishops and gays, or indeed gay women bishops. Interesting arguments on both sides (of whether we should state where we stand), but no final decision reached.

Have almost finished the Dragon Hall leaflet; now need to get to grips with the one about the Pastons in Norwich, but I’ve been strangely lacking in energy. I’ve made an appointment with a sports injury specialist recommended by my doctor – not because I have a sports injury, but because my arm is getting worse rather than better, and there’s a chance she might be able to find out what’s wrong.

During preparations for Tuesday Group our bottom oven exploded. Happily and strangely, this had no adverse effect on the top oven, and we were able to transfer the jacket potatoes. Today a man came to repair the oven, which he did remarkably quickly and for a modest £77 – replacing an element and some other piece of gubbins which governed the display panel.

Other items which have taken up my time include stopping a couple of cheques that went missing en route to The Langleys. I have now arranged to pay Andrew’s fees by bank transfer. I have also confirmed that Fred will be joining us on April 5 for the CNSOB reunion at Dragon Hall and Yellows, which is nice. He’s the only one I know other than superficially.

Dot is spending a lot of time practising her violin to get ready for a concert by the Sillars Orchestra at the end of April. Meanwhile our band rehearsal scheduled for Sunday has been torpedoed because one member will be in Bristol. Oh well (Fleetwood Mac).

Suns on website, clouds in sky

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David and Kristine Coomes during their recent visit. Dot is pointing out local landmarks from St James Hill. At least, I assume that’s what she’s doing.

England duly exited Euro 2012 by managing to stop Italy scoring for 120 minutes but then, as usual, losing on penalties. The guilty players on this occasion were b0th called Ashley, which should have been warning enough. Young hit the bar and Coles’ effort was saved comfortably. Last night Spain beat Portugal on penalties after another 0-0, with Portugal playing above themselves and Ronaldo doing the opposite: he didn’t even take a penalty (one assumes he was meant to go fifth, but it didn’t get that far).

We’ve had some warmer temperatures, but the BBC is having trouble coping, today their website has golden suns all over it for Norfolk, but it’s cloudy and looking as though the threatened “showery rain, sometimes heavy” might well materialise. Hopefully it’s a bit sunnier in London, where Dot and Anne are having fun (one assumes).

Spoke on Sunday about being people after God’s own heart and not worrying about superficial issues: seemed to be well received. Monday night’s PCC was genial and quick, with only Dot and I representing St Aug as usual.

The other major meeting this week was yesterday afternoon: the Paston Trustees. The four of us who made it (Rob was working in London) got through the agenda in about a couple of hours, which I suppose is not bad. Lucy is in one of her rare “quite well” phases, but Jo is looking ill and showing no sign of cutting down on her work: offered the chance of giving the Pensthorpe event a miss this year, she was determined to do it. However, she does want to step down from the not-very-onerous job of being chairperson, so I volunteered Rob in his absence and also offered to help with the newsletter. If Rob isn’t keen, I may get the chair as well.

I arrived early so Lucy took me up on to the roof to see her alpine garden. Impressive, as is the view, especially on a still and warm day. A few inches higher and they would be able to see the sea. Apparently.

 

Wind from the north ends warm spell

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View of the Wensum from the Jarrold Bridge while the sun was still warm.

Spots of rain on the window this morning, and now a decidedly cold wind from the north. Our early summer is apparently over. And we have a fuel crisis to go with the cold wind. Or should I say a “fuel crisis”, because it’s entirely created by a stupid announcement from the government that it might be a good idea to stock up in case there was a tanker drivers’ strike. So of course the usual suspects queued at petrol stations to put in £2 worth while those who genuinely needed it for things like travelling were given unwanted deliveries of stress and frustration.

No, this is not the anger of a man with an empty tank, surrounded by closed petrol stations. As it happens, I’m not in dire need at the moment. But I do sometimes despair at how stupidity seems to thrive in this country, at every level.

Nor is a lack of fuel the reason Dot and I took another long bus ride this week – travelling to Cromer in the sun on Thursday for lunch at the Rocket Cafe and a visit to the town museum (travel and museum both free). We did venture briefly on to the beach, but despite the sun the first signs of returning chill were already evident, and although we succumbed to an ice cream, we had to find a warm spot out of the wind to eat it in. The journey was very easy and pleasant, and I suspect more bus trips may be in the offing. We have also renewed our railcards…

We resorted to the car last night, however, for the annual meeting of the Paston Heritage Society, held at the Ship Inn in Mundesley with chips and chippolatas, plus a talk from Dr Richard Hoggett and a few remarks from myself on the future events we have planned. A convivial and quite brief occasion: we were home by 9.15pm. Good to see all the supporters out, and Brigette and Ruth resplendent in something other than medieval dress.

On Tuesday we did a little bit to support Norwich Christian Resource Centre, which is at risk of closing. The Tuesday Group (or six of us) went up to one of their evening events instead of having our usual meal and heard a story of how one woman escaped from the genocide in Rwanda, and the unexpected forgiveness she subsequently felt. We bought her book (Miracle in Kingali), published by Anthony Gray, who had himself been held hostage in China. Strangely I had heard Robin Limmer speak about him quite often: I think he formerly worked for the EDP.

Trying to help CRC again by donating secondhand books, but Joy is coming round this afternoon to see if she wants any of them. Having quite a clearout: our friend Carrie has just collected my big old desk to give to a family of asylum seekers from Egypt, and she has also taken one or two other things, including a camp bed and some bookshelves. Dot has managed – with a little bit of help from me – to lay our old kitchen carpet in the garage and get things much clearer in there for when the grandchildren join us next week.

I was the only St Augustine’s representative at the PCC on Wednesday, which I suspect just about kept it legal, and I put forward a motion (passed unanimously) to enable us to obtain cash from a charity which has been lying dormant for years and use it to pay for hall repairs. Now I just await the minutes to carry it all through. I hope. Dot, incidentally, was at Hopton, helping on behalf of the diocese with shortlisting for a head’s post. She is keeping pretty busy, so I have tentatively arranged some time in Scotland in France, in addition to our Devon holiday later this year.

Roll, pie and cake

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Teresa and her mother, Sheila
Teresa and her mother, Sheila

Spent much of the day in North-East Norfolk. Weather absolutely appalling: incessant rain, temperature just above freezing, sky heavily overcast. I suspect thousands of people must like this sort of weather, because they all take their cars out in it. It was worth it, however. Visited my wife’s aunt Sheila (who is actually her mother’s cousin), and Sheila’s daughter Teresa, who was  our bridesmaid 41 years ago. Had a good time there, featuring a sausage roll and mince pie, then moved on to Paston, where we left a present for the Cares. Doors were open as usual, but shouting evoked no response, so we assumed they were out. Later e-mail on another subject from Lucy made me think she probably wasn’t, however. Back to North Walsham, where we picked up some Philosophy stuff from the printer and moved on to Jessie’s for another pleasant hour or two, this time featuring a kind of cake. We resisted the lure of the cemetery, which would probably have felt like the Arctic tundra on a particularly bad day.

Most of yesterday went on sorting files from the second drawer of the filing cabinet. Contained quite a lot of stuff that brought back memories, which made it slow going. Still bits of it hanging around in the kitchen. Dot was busy completing her inspection report, and about 5pm we abandoned it all and went to the Rushcutters for a meal, using a 2-for-1 voucher that had been e-mailed to us. Superb chicken and mashed potato for me; lovely trout for Dot. Later we went to a PCC meeting at St Luke’s to discuss the proposed change-of-use proposal for their car park which, if it went through, would enable the council to use it for housing at some point in the future. Determined to resist this, though it could be a tricky one. The diocese would like to make some money out of it, and the council doesn’t like cars. Still, we have a clued-up lawyer in our camp, not to mention God – though his views are by no means certain on this particular issue.

On Monday I managed to lose another game of chess. After getting a good opening I found myself lagging in development when my opponent failed to fall for any of the tricks in the position. I then made a disastrous choice of move which gave him all the positional advantages. I found myself with no sensible plan and in due course fell apart.