Tag Archives: poem

New car after eight years: bit of a shock

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Dot and Andrew at Kenilworth Castle
Dot and Andrew at Kenilworth Castle

A very hectic week started with a delightful barbecue last Saturday at Vicky’s house, to mark her 40th birthday. David and Bridget were there, plus the Streets and the Cumberlands, and of course Vicky’s parents, both sprightly. In fact Derek did most (if not all) of the barbecue meat, which was exceptionally good.

The rain arrived late enough not to spoil things, and the children did a dance in it. Amy and George are growing quickly. Exhibiting similar qualities: Florence and Mabel Street and Emily Cumberland. A further Cumberland was too small to exhibit much growth – a matter of weeks in this world, and not sure what to make of it.

On Sunday we had a special service in the old church to mark the start of world war one, and I read one of my poems, Shadows (available on back2sq1.co.uk). Howard was on the organ. Afterwards Stuart was selling copies of his book They Are Not Dead (manifestly untrue) about parishioners from St Augustine’s who were killed. A couple of people wanted copies of my poem, which was nice. Later Dot and I walked up to our actual parish church, St Matthew’s, to see an advertised exhibition, but this was not as exciting as we anticipated. Still, I bought a CD about the history of Thorpe Hamlet.

The next day we had anticipated taking delivery of our new car, and I had devised a cunning plan whereby we drove down to Caddington in both cars, and then on to Coventry in the new one, leaving David with our old car. This failed because the new car did not arrive; so I had to devise a new, slightly less cunning, plan.

We drove down to Caddington in the old car on Tuesday, catching a last glimpse of the children before their departure for Italy with the other grandparents and their mother. We then continued to Coventry, where we stayed the night at an excellent, friendly hotel called the Old Mill at Baginton.

On the Wednesday – Andrew’s birthday – we picked him up at 10.15 and walked into town, which was a bit of a revelation: it’s ages since I’d been there, and it’s really quite attractive. We bought Andrew a new shaver, some shoe laces, a toilet bag and a coffee. While wondering round looking for the Co-op (Andrew had vouchers) we met a couple of people that Andrew knew.

Afterwards we drove to Kenilworth Castle (via 79 The Chesils and 191 Beanfield Avenue) and spent a couple of hours looking round. I can’t remember ever having been there, and it’s quite spectacular. When everyone started getting tired, we moved on back to the hotel and had a late lunch / early dinner in the attached Chef and Brewer. This was again very good value: Andrew had the full three courses, but Dot and I were more than sated after two (first-class steak and ale pie).

We then returned Andrew to Minster Lodge and sorted him out. They all seem very pleasant helpers there, and well organised. Drove home, leaving Coventry during the rush hour fairly successfully. I did that bit, but Dot drove most of the way. Not a bad journey: brief stop at Cambridge Services.

Phil was happy for us to do the birthday honours, because he is too fatigued and in pain from his legs to be able to drive to Coventry. During the journeys I fielded calls from Elaine, Andrew’s carer, who was trying to set up a meeting about Andrew’s finances (we eventually did so, for early September) and on the way back from Jenny Baxi, who had called on Andrew just after we left. This was tricky because of the poor reception.

At last (Thursday) we could take delivery of our new red Mazda 2. Dot took me to the garage and then left to go to the dentist. It took about an hour to sort out all the paperwork, but I was home by about 11.30, having filled up with petrol at Morrisons. After Dot’s return and a brief lunch we left (in both cars of course) for Caddington. Dot went ahead in the old car, leaving me at the traffic lights, and I also stopped on the bypass to ring David. But I caught her by Thetford – she was moderating her speed – and we continued together, arriving at Caddington just after 3pm.

Stayed for a cup of tea and a chat (Chrissy was on the line) and then drove home –  Dot first, then me. Haven’t quite got to the bottom of the satnav/radio/music combination, but it was a nice drive, though the engine is notably less powerful. Still, it’s a light car, and very nippy.

After fish and chips I rang up the Hendersons because I felt bad about not being in Norwich when they were moving in. They had just had fish and chips too; we ended up going round for a glass of champagne: took them a card and a house-warming bottle. Impressive house, but a nightmare to get sorted.

Today has been notably calmer. I’ve caught up with a bit of paperwork, posted some stuff to David and the city council (re our parking permit) and called in at the printer to give the go-ahead on the Oxnead book. David rang to say his garage man said the car needed a new pair of tyres and its rear brake discs fitted, but otherwise fine.

Blunder after the sandwich break

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Amy with picnic in the living room

Very little time in the past week to do anything very constructive in the way of writing. Not sure why that should be, since Dot was away for a day and a half at Dudley, doing her P4C thing. I did manage to write a poem, just in time to make the deadline for entry to the Norwich Writers’ Circle competition, which I won last year. In fact I entered seven poems and walked them up to the secretary’s house the other side of Colman Road to make sure they got there in time. It was also an excuse for a decent walk, and happily the weather was sunny, though cold. Managed a similar-length walk (just under four miles) the next day – Tuesday – after I dropped the car off for £500 worth of work (service, brakes, bodywork, MOT, European Assistance).

The following day Dot and I had a lie-in, watching a tape that Phil had lent me some time ago. During this I began to feel pretty ill, with a bad headache and sore eye, plus tiredness. Strange. Took several doses of paracetamol, which meant I had recovered sufficiently to drive to Diss in the evening for a chess match. Got a good position but blundered and lost following the sandwich break. Together with my draw on Monday, this brought to an end my unlikely run of five wins. Sad, but not as sad as the death of Phyllis Todd, the oldest member of our congregation, who was 100. Glad I saw her last week.

Oliver entirely without picnic in the living room

Happier times earlier in the past week, when David and the children came up to see us on Saturday and stayed overnight. The children came to church with us, and Oliver sat next to me and took it all in – or as much of it as he could. Not a tremendously child-friendly sermon, and he was the only child there, apart from Amy, who was upstairs with Dot. Afterwards we went to Prezzos for lunch. And the previous day we had a visit from Glenda and Peter, with whom we shared the train holiday in Switzerland two years ago. Lovely to see them again. Apparently not one of the four of us had changed a bit.

Later that day I went to a Paston trustees’ meeting at which it was decided – with some prompting from me and Jonathan – to demand an answer from the PCC and Trunch team about our potential lease of the church. They have spent huge amounts of time contradicting each other and dithering. We are now threatening to withdraw, which we hope will concentrate their minds.

Yesterday Dot and I went to the Assembly House for afternoon tea – a Christmas present bought for us by the Archers. Lovely food in a nice setting, though the service was a little slow and there was a great deal of rearranging the room while we were eating. Still, we really enjoyed it. I had previously visited our financial advisers to sign papers for a surrender of a policy which I thought I’d already surrendered, which means we will receive some unexpected money. Not a huge amount, but worth having.

Today we bought some paint and have spent time painting one of the walls in preparation for the new bookcase. Hope to finish tomorrow – in fact will have to, because I’ve just remembered we’re having people round for a meal tomorrow evening, a fact that had somehow got omitted from my diary, otherwise we probably wouldn’t have started on the painting. Ho hum. Wish I felt a bit more lively.

Changing and staying the same

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Dot
Dot sunning herself on the balcony outside our room at the Manor Hotel, Blakeney, not long ago

Spent a warm and sunny day at Mangreen Hall on Sunday. More than 30 of us from the church made it, which makes you wonder why our average congregation is about 14. We were discussing how to change our Sunday service – if at all. Being radical and notoriously keen on change, I proposed that we stay the same, with a few amendments. Others went for moving it to the evening or making the liturgy more traditional, which is a bit odd, since we have traditional liturgy already, including a bit of Celtic and a bit of translation from the Aramaic. Anyway, it will all be discussed on Thursday at the DCC. Fortunately (or unfortunately) we shall be leaving for Wales the next day for our holiday with David and the grandchildren. Will we recognise the church on our return?

In the afternoon we had a kind of service at which several of us contributed songs, poems or readings. I sang Man in the Mask, which I wrote some years ago and lost the music  to. Happily I came up with another tune a few days ago, and it seemed to work quite well. It’s a song I’ve always been pleased with, and it was nice to give it an airing. I also read one of my poems – This is not home. Ruth sang a beautiful Shaker song, and some of the children read.

Today it was very slightly cooler, though not much. Dot was doing a church school inspection at Ellingham, so I decided to embark on some multi-tasking. I started by walking to St Augustine’s to take back the music stand we’d borrowed for Sunday, together with one of the hymn books. Shortly before I arrived a bumped into Anne, who seemed a little less than her usual sunny self. I’m a little worried about her. Then when I reached the church I coincided with Vicky, who was picking up collection money to bank it and had lost her key. I was able to give her mine, as I have a spare. We walked back to Magdalen Street together; she had a bright Amy with her.

From Magdalen Street I got a bus to Costessey. At least, I meant to. In fact I got on the wrong one and almost got locked into a bus on St Stephens. I transferred quickly to Theatre Street on this being pointed out, and caught a number 16 (and not 26) to the Bowthorpe roundabout, from where I walked up to Costessey Junior School and returned a “Visitor” tag that I had walked off with some months ago. It may take me a bit of time, but I eventually get round to returning things… Took the bus back into the city, called in at WHS for a refill for my Parker ballpen, and walked home, calling in at Budgens for bread and fruit on the way. Nearly four miles altogether. Quite tired after early rising.

Inordinate number of suits

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Alligator
Our magic alligator in his prime: he is now out of the bath and in the back garden, though showing no sign of shrinking.

Couldn’t stay away from the Assembly House yesterday. At lunchtime wandered up to attend the Archant annual meeting as usual. Quite strange, really: an inordinate number of suits, and a distinct lack of people from my former areas, though one of my trainees spoke to me about the new design system, and another one featured on the video about it. He is now a news editor. Brian C was the only member of the subbing group to show up: no Bruce, Robin, Peter or Hugh. This despite the excellent wine and buffet. The actual meeting was peculiar too: in the absence of chief inquisitor Mike P, no questions were asked at all following Mr J’s unusually monotone presentation: possibly the recession has brought out the Trappist in everyone. Spent some time towards the end talking to Cliff Butler’s widow Audrey, who was delighted that we remembered him, and to Jennie Downing, John’s widow, who seems as feisty as ever.

Back to the Assembly House with Dot in the evening for the Norwich Writers’ Circle open poetry competition prizegiving. Endearingly amateur organisation, with no-one seeming to know how things were going to be done, if indeed they were going to be done at all. But eventually I was announced as the winner for my poem Failing Fire, which I wrote in January after gazing into the fire after a succession of those January days in which dawn seems to slide straight into dusk with nothing in between. North Walsham cemetery made an appearance too, though incognito. To my surprise, the three other poems I submitted were also highly commended and thus got into the anthology. I read three of them and should have read the other one, but my lack of willpower got the better of me.

Very strangely, a headteacher who Dot had spoken to on the phone earlier in the day was also there, sitting next to Nic from church – who had two poems in the anthology. Also the former chair of governors at Tuckswood. Small world. There were about 620 entries from all over the country (and one or two from further afield), so I was very pleased. The judge was Hilary Mellon, a poet whose work I enjoy very much.

Today Dot has been busy: first at Brooke for a DSSO visit, and this afternoon leading four sessions at a conference for aspiring head teachers. She has spent a huge amount of time preparing for it (with some help from David); so I hope it goes well. I have just put the dinner on; she should be home soon. Managed to get in an hour’s walk this morning – Dot dropped me off at the Martineau Lane roundabout and I walked up into the city via Long John Hill and then paid in my poem cheque before walking home. Quite chilly weather, but good for walking.