Tag Archives: poetry

Walking the platform at Stratford

Uncategorized, , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Late in the day on the footbridge over the railway near Thorpe marshes.
Late in the day on the footbridge over the railway near Thorpe marshes.

On Thursday Dot and I drove out to Hempton, near Fakenham, where Caroline Gilfillan was launching her new book, Poet in Boots, at the Bell. This was, I thought, a pleasant country pub, but Dot was not too impressed. I was able to have a beer and go to the loo without any trouble: what more could one want?

The launch consisted of a few poems read by Caroline and some songs from her friends, one or two of which were very good. All round it was a very good evening, though we only really knew Caroline.

The next day was Oliver’s birthday, and we sent him messages, hoping that he got his card. We will be taking his presents at the end of this week. At the end of the day it was warm and sunny; so we went for a walk on Thorpe marshes, which was marred only by flying insects, one of which bit Dot on her eye, which gave her a bit of trouble for a couple of days. Otherwise it was an idyllic evening, with a couple of herons and calm water, and a grebe in the distance.

On Saturday we went to the Hendersons’ for an evening meal after getting rid of stuff from the garage. We expected it to be just the four of us, but their neighbours  from Lime Tree Road were there as well. Nice food, pleasant company. Sunday was rainy. After church, where we played the music in the absence of Phil, I did some church sitting for the Heritage Day while Dot went home to practise her violin, her time being cut short a bit by her neglecting to take the door key. As I had started the day by forgetting the church hall key, this rounded things off nicely. (All because we were using the courtesy car.) The church hall water leak problem is ongoing, but now there is a lighting problem. The vicar has apparently decided to leave everything practical in Howard’s hands, which is all very nice, but Howard has a job, a wife, two daughters and a grandchild.

After church Dot and I went to see Jessie, which was lovely as always.

Monday saw us heading for Wimbledon in rainy weather that turned quite chilly later. We stopped for refreshments at the Services on the M11, because I was feeling pretty tired, but then continued without incident across the Dartford bridge (which reminds me, I have to pay for the crossing – pause – done) and along the southern section of the M25 before following the satnav directions in towards Raynes Park, where we parked in Waitrose’s car park next to the station.

I was driving Dot down because of anticipated difficulty in finding the place, and was then due to get the train back while she met up with Barbara. This actually happened, but we had loads of time to spare; so we went into Starbuck’s for a snack and then wandered round a bit in the rain. Eventually I got an earlier train than intended and then a tube from Waterloo to Stratford, which turned out to be a bleaker station than I expected. So I persuaded a ticket lady to let me out and use the toilets in the Westfield centre, and then let me back in again. I then walked up and down the platform – it was getting pretty chilly – until the train arrived. I had a specified seat in first class, which turned out to be not available, but there were loads of others and I got a better one (single, with table).

Today was much better after a rainy start, and I went into the city to pay in some cheques, including one for me (from the PHS) that I’d found in my jacket pocket. Ran into some people looking for Dragon Hall in the wrong place, and then spoke to Ed Read, who told me he and Jenny were going to try and adopt. Made myself hot lunch with leftover toad in the hole and – to be honest – rather wasted the afternoon, listening to YouTube songs and eventually getting round to finishing this, just as I see Dot is about to arrive.

Last man standing in poetry marathon

Uncategorized, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

A chilly and wet day today: a foretaste of autumn. But most days are still warm and summery; so we can’t complain. Yesterday afternoon we had drinks in the garden with Anne, who departs for a Mediterranean cruise on Thursday, hoping not to be confused with Libyan migrants. In the evening Dot and I went to the cinema and saw Trainwreck in the company of a largely young and female audience. We guessed we were not the target market, but it was nevertheless a very funny and rewarding film, with some wonderful dialogue.

Earlier in the day we extracted a large amount of bedding, mainly in the form of duvets and pillows, from the loft, spruced it all up a bit and took it to the Jubilee Hall (next to St Luke’s on Aylsham Road) for the benefit of some Congolese people who are gathering there in preparation for the funeral of two cousins who drowned in Thorpe Marshes nature reserve. The boy, aged 11 was called Bonheur and lived in The Lathes. The church gave his family £200 on Sunday toward expenses surrounding the funeral.

Later on Sunday Dot and I went to Walpole Old Chapel, near Halesworth, for the annual poetry reading. It was almost too well attended, because the reading started at 5pm and didn’t finish till well after 8.30pm. I was scheduled to read last, which – viewed in pop music terms – has to be good. It was a bit of a marathon, though, despite the half-time drinks and cake, and by the time I got to read it was not only extremely chilly but also nearly dark. There was only one light in the chapel. Still, we hung in there, despite the counter-attraction of a bird that got in and couldn’t get out, and I got a pretty enthusiastic  reception. They even laughed at my jokes. I read three newish poems: After Sun, A Train Approaches and Proof of Heaven.

Elliott makes himself at home in the garden
Elliott makes himself at home in the garden

Proceeding backwards, on Saturday Sam and Lucy came round with Elliott, and went into the garden, where Elliott had a great time pulling flowers apart and transferring stones into places they shouldn’t be. Dot got out David’s old train set and a tractor, both of which Elliott played with and then departed with. Meanwhile Norwich City scored their first win in the Premiership, beating Sunderland 3-1 away.

Earlier last week the main event was the arrival of Adrian and Clarissa by boat on Wednesday. We had a call from them while Dot and I were at Jessie’s in North Walsham. I was on my way to a Paston assignation, but Dot was on her way home after visiting Peter at Cromer for some p4c film editing. Dot dropped in on Adrian after she got back – as did Roger, who also been at North Walsham – and I completed the party when I arrived back from the Paston event. Good to see them: they had Menna’s three girls with them – Maddy, Olivia and Isabel. All delightful, especially Maddy, the oldest.

The following morning they came up for coffee and biscuits before departing for the city as Dot left for the dentist. They had a packed programme. In the last two days they had to get the boat back to Potter Heigham, via Breydon Water, visit Yarmouth (don’t ask me why) and call in on Jessie.

The Paston event mentioned consisted of an informal trustees’ meeting with food (mackerel pate) in the rather chilly garden of the Ship Inn at Mundesley, followed by tea and coffee at Lucy’s. She is not too good, since her last-ditch cancer treatment provoked an allergic reaction. It is hard to say how bad she is, because she always seems to come back strongly, but she didn’t feel well enough to proceed with Rob, Peter and myself to Bacton village hall, where we met the Bacton Historical Society with a view to their helping us in our NHL bid. We got an encouraging reception, and enjoyed a 40 min tape of Bacton people reminiscing about previous times. It was much more interesting than it sounds.

Arsenal win after extra time by Suffolk poets

Uncategorized, , , , , , , ,
Dot settles down to a bit of navigation in Frejus.
Dot settles down to a bit of navigation in Frejus.

 

Here we are in a new month, and my shoulders are feeling a bit sensitive. I don’t know why, but no doubt a forthcoming visit to Scarborough will put them right. Or not.

Not quite such a busy weekend, though we spent the afternoon on Saturday at the Suffolk Poetry Festival in Stowmarket. We decided to take the train, which proved a sound idea. The weather was quite reasonable, and dry.

We were part of a group representing the Seagull and organised by Kaaren Whitney, wearing a Massachusetts T-shirt. Dot and I did some tanka and I read a couple of other poems. Other readers were Sue and Elizabeth, and I think we held our own quite well. James Knox Whittet was also there, as president of the society, but he was not reading. As always the quality varied enormously, but overall it was enjoyable until a trio from Woodbridge went way over their allotted time. We had intended to stay a little longer, but we were so irritated that we left early and so were able to catch the Cup Final on TV. Arsenal beat Aston Villa impressively, 4-0. Dot left her jacket behind, but Sue rushed out with it as I was returning for it.

On the Sunday I was preaching again (shortage of alternatives), and after lunch Dot and I went to see Jessie, dodging the showers. She seemed quite well, and the cake was ginger. Before that, of course, we visited the cemetery, where again we managed to avoid getting wet, except underfoot.

Earlier in the week we had our hair cut (Wednesday), and on Thursday Dot helped to interview Paul Henderson for the role of DSSO. She also gave him a lift to Diocesan House and I went to pick him up, because she had to stay on and do more interviewing. I had tea with him, and when Maryta returned from a bout of horse-riding, I was shown the garden and its vegetables. I got home just before Dot.

On Friday the Eagles came for supper and stayed till about 1am, by which time I had been asleep for a short while. I’m finding it hard to stay awake if it’s late, because the conversation was certainly not boring, and we are much on the same wavelength. We played them some music and showed them some pictures, and Sue and Dot completed the minutes of a meeting earlier in the week which – sadly – wound up the Norfolk Association for Primary Headteachers (NAFPHT). All good things…

Apparently we are involved in a 5-2 diet, which involves not eating much on two days out of seven. I have lost a bit of weight, as well as impetus.

Rattling around as usual

Uncategorized, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Fireworks at the Castle, as seen from Aspland RoadFireworks at the Castle, as seen from Aspland Road

As I sit here writing this, my wife is mixing with Royalty. A governor of Little Plumstead Primary School, she is meeting Prince Edward (Earl of Wessex) as he visits the school as part of a Norfolk tour. She was panicking slightly as she left because she had just received an e-mail saying that all the parking places were booked and she should park at the church. She wasn’t sure where that was, but no doubt it all turned out all right.

The weather has remained fairly wintry – or at least autumny. I guess it will remain so till about next May. Not sure humans were ever meant to live at these latitudes. Things have been quite hectic, even without the royalty.

Last Saturday I secured an appointment with my uncle Paul and delivered a version of our family tree that he had requested. Needless to say, he didn’t remember requesting it, but he remembers very little nowadays except who people are. When I rang him to arrange the visit, my cousin Stephen was with him, and I had a quick chat with him. He was very upbeat, despite worsening MS. After a pleasant half an hour, I left Paul to his Wiltshire Farms meal and the opportunity to examine the tree. I’ve had no feedback yet, but he was very appreciative of all my efforts. I said I had enjoyed doing it, which was true.

In the evening we visited another Paul – Henderson of that ilk – who was singing in the Philharmonic at St Andrew’s Hall at the time. Good programme: Debussy’s La Mer (orchestra only), then Lloyd’s Mass, which was excellent. Afterwards Paul and Maryta came back for coffee as the rain beat down, and I drove them home.

Another busy day on Sunday: first the Remembrance Communion at church, led by Howard and with Eleanor officiating and preaching. Reading of the names was emotional as always. Phil had called off both church and the Seagull because of work pressures; so in the afternoon Dot and I drove to Aldeburgh to see James Knox Whittet’s exhibition of sonnets and pictures relating to Islay. Although we missed the opening, we were there in time to see James and his wife – and sample some Islay whisky.

We followed this with fish and chips next door at the Galleon (also excellent) and a brief walk on the seafront in the darkness before heading north to Lowestoft. Dot remembered where there was a Morrisons garage and so we were able to save some money on petrol (we had a voucher). We arrived in Pakefield early and so drove down to the harbour and got a drink at the Harbour Inn, which was unexpected and pleasant. Then on to the Seagull, where we rehearsed for a while. Very few people present; so I got an opportunity to sing three songs and read two poems. Dot accompanied me on two of the songs, but declined on the third.

When we set off for Norwich I left my glasses behind. After searching exhaustively for them at home on Wednesday (after managing without them for a couple of days, assuming they’d turn up) I e-mailed Ian, who not only had found them but was about to travel to Norwich; so he dropped them off yesterday afternoon, while I was out but Dot wasn’t.

Travelled to North Walsham on Monday for a meeting of the Paston Trustees, during which Lucy outlined plans for yet another grant bid – this time for a project that had to be completed by the end of March next year. I pointed out the ridiculously short time frame, but to no avail. She is bidding for the money.

In the early evening Naomi arrived to stay for a couple of nights while she completed some work at the UEA. She planned to leave at 8.30 the following morning, but it was after 9.30 before she appeared. Still, all apparently went well. In the afternoon I had my urology appointment at Cromer. They were running nearly an hour late, and none of the expected things like x-ray and scanning happened. I had a flow test, which was OK, and a bit of an examination, but failed to convince the doctor that anything was wrong. So no change there, then.

Yesterday we took the MX5  in to the garage because of a rattle that I had been worried about for some time. I went for a run with mechanic Wayne (nice bloke), who diagnosed it en route as a loose caliber pin sheath (not sure that’s the right word) on the left front wheel. We left it while he packed it with grease and made sure there was no risk of anything going wrong when Dot travels to Liverpool in about ten days. When we picked it up again in late afternoon, it was much better: Dot also got some new mats, which were remarkably cheap, given the cost of everything else with the name Mazda on it.

While the car was in the garage I paid some cheques in and then went to see The Pity of War, a short piece written by and starring David Newham on the friendship between Siegfried Sassoon and Wilfred Owen and including (of course) some of their work. While waiting to go in I bumped into Sue and Roger, and sat with them. Also said hello to Trevor Burton, another ex-colleague and actor, afterwards, as well as congratulating David.

Unfortunately, though, I had to rush off, because I had an appointment to meet Joy McCall and Nick Gorvin at 3pm to discuss plans for my Iona book, which Joy insists on financing. First time I’ve been to her house, which is impressive – especially the Garden Room. All specially adapted so that she can move around freely in her wheelchair. Also met her husband Andy for the first time and was able to check that he didn’t mind his wife spending her money in producing a book for me. He didn’t.

After some deep discussion and a brief chat about the book, I have agreed to make it thicker so that it can be perfect bound. Joy insists. I think Nick is a bit bemused by the whole thing. I suppose I am really.

Karen and Julia at UEA

Uncategorized, , , , , ,
Dave, Dot and Julia at the start of the walk, near Paston Great Barn
Dave, Dot and Julia at the start of the walk, near Paston Great Barn

The roof has been restored – we hope. It’s raining today, and it rained more on Saturday: no evidence of water getting in, but we’ve had nothing like the downpours that caused the original problem.

Builder Bert finished on Thursday – earlier than we thought and his departure coincided  with the appearance of the window cleaner; so I didn’t have a proper discussion with him. Later I noticed that some leading around the chimney was loose; so I contacted the scaffolders, who I thought were going to remove the scaffolding on Friday. They said they weren’t, and  they’d get Bert to ring me, but nothing happened.

I rang them again on the Saturday morning and left a message asking for Bert’s phone number (which I’d lost). They rang back with it, and I was eventually able to speak to him. He came round on Sunday morning and repaired the leading – all of this fitting in neatly with our other weekend activities centring on the visit of the Evetts. The scaffolding is still there, but it should go tomorrow. The Evetts are in St Albans, on their way to pick up Amy.

Before they got here, on the Wednesday, when it was still warm, I visited the dentist, who cleared me at a cost of £98, and then Geoff Saunders, who had had a recent seizure problem resulting in a sudden visit to hospital. This turned out to be more spectacular than serious, and he was quite chirpy. His right side had improved a lot, and he said his feet were getting better. HIs carer, Lisa, was there, and we all had a cup of tea and biscuits.

In the evening, while Dot was at orchestra, I visited the Arts Centre for a performance of The Shipwrecked House by poet Claire Trévien. It opened with some new poems from Martin Figura, and I found myself seated next to his wife, Helen Ivory; so I couldn’t heckle. As if: one or two of the poems, on politicians and machines, were quite good. The main event was disappointing, despite its glowing reviews. I probably should have read the book before I went, because it was hard to make out what was going on, and she wasn’t easy to hear in the face of the sound effects (sea, storm etc). 

The next day I was picked up fairly early by Rob Knee, and we visited Karen Smyth at UEA to talk about a big research project relating to the Pastons that Karen would like to get money for. In the afternoon Dot and I were supposed to have our hair cut, but when it became apparent that Linda wasn’t coming, Dot rang her, and she said she’d sent me a message on Facebook. I then discovered that she had, but for some reason it hadn’t reached my e-mail inbox. Ho hum.

Dave and Julia arrived about 1.30pm on Friday. We had lunch and then walked the riverside path up to the art school, followed by tea and coffee at Costa’s in London Street. It was warm enough to sit outside, and it was still pretty warm the next morning when Julia went off to a conference at which she was speaking at UEA and we took Dave (via bus and the rail bridge) to walk round the new broad at Whitlingham, plus a bit of Thorpe Green.

After lunch we took the bus again – this time to the Sainsbury Centre for a superb exhibition entitled Reality. Some really mesmerising  paintings, including a couple by Kate Coleman. Particularly liked Clive Head and John Keane. During this the forecast rain arrived, and the temperature fell. Julia emerged from her conference and joined us for a drink in the restaurant, and then we took the bus home – a 70-minute marathon during which we waited interminably on Foundry Bridge to turn right into a road packed with stationary cars. The bus was jammed, but at least the rain was stopping.

In the evening we walked up to Jamie’s for an excellent meal: our waiter was Steve, who we had had before. He was first class.

On Sunday it was dry, but with some chilliness in the air. After Bert fixed the leading round the chimney, we drove to Mundesley for scones and tea, and then did a shortened version of one of the Paston walks, starting at the church and visiting Edingthorpe after doing a bit of blackberry picking on the way (crumble for supper later); then completing the circle. Just over four miles, and we popped into the recently repaired church before we returned to Mundesley for tea and cake.

In the evening we watched the Japanese grand prix, the result of which we had been keeping from Dave all day.

I don’t know why

Uncategorized, , , , , ,

The visit to Pinkys in Halesworth nearly didn’t happen. I dawdled over my egg curry and left myself with little time to get to Halesworth and then find the cafe. I took the back route and arrived at the car park I knew with about eight minutes to spare. I walked through the middle of town in what I thought was the right general direction and happened on the cafe  just in time. The room was already full, but I found a seat somewhere in the middle (not my favourite position) and bought a pot of tea. I don’t know why.

I wasn’t sure what to expect, but the evening followed the Seagull format, and I read three of my poems in the first half: Distant Funeral, Old Pictures and three tanka I’d just written on the theme of injured angel. They seemed to be well received,  and I had a pleasant chat during the break with a couple from Woodbridge who were sitting opposite me. Some of the usual suspects from the Seagull were there, including Kaaren Whitney  and Elizabeth Bracken. Oh, and Oonagh, who doesn’t write poetry but likes to read poems. I don’t know why.

To my astonishment the evening had ended by 8.45pm, and I made my way home through very misty Suffolk lanes and only slightly less misty Norfolk ones. I caught Ann and Jim before they went to bed, and we talked until 11.15, which is ridiculously late for them. I tried to explain how something could be poetry if it didn’t rhyme. I don’t know why.

The next day we celebrated Joy’s 60th birthday, nearly three weeks too late. The party was at Joe and Birgit’s in Hethersett, and we picked up a Northern Irish woman called Kirby (I think) from Douro Place. Other guests at the party included several Surrey regulars, plus – to my surprise – Sam, Lucy, Elliott and Helen( Lucy’s mother), with whom I had a longish chat while feeding Elliott with German cheesecake. We helped clear up and took Phil and Joy home afterwards. I don’t know why.

The next day I preached on grumbling. I was against it. I do know why.

On Monday, while Dot was at a P4C meeting in Metfield, I caught up with some church treasurer work and walked into the city to pay in some cheques. On the way I bumped into Nicola, Anna’s sister, who was cycling to meet her boyfriend at the station. In the evening I played what may be my last game of chess for some time, losing to Jeff Dawson in the club knockout tournament. It was a good game, quite complicated, and not one I minded losing, but there were some possibilities in it for me, and I just didn’t have the stamina to concentrate at the end. I don’t know why.

The godfather: a sequel

Uncategorized, , , , , , , , ,
P1050371
Holly a few years ago

Holiday approaching fast. Dot is completing her packing today – or at least making a list –  prior to a day in London with Anne.  I will be packing too, but I have a “dress” rehearsal with Chronicle this afternoon.

Last night I met my god-daughter Holly for the first time since her wedding. She is now divorced and seems very happy: we had a lovely evening with her and her parents, Paul and Maryta, at Prezzos. The waiter was excellent, and Paul insisted on paying. How much better could it get? They also spent some time with us before and after the meal, and I discovered that Holly is a science fiction fan, especially Iain M Banks and Alastair Reynolds. I recommended Robert Holdstock’s Lavondyss and Mythago Wood, and lent her copies.

Dot was particularly pleased to have a good meal, because she had been fasting over Monday night in preparation for a blood test early yesterday. This meant that she was not able to have either the tea or the cake at Bridget and David’s during our monthly “cake and compline” gathering. Still, she could do the compline. Judy took us in her new car because she was a bit worried about parking it next to ours. So she had to park it at the Archers’, which is even more of a challenge.

On arrival home we forgot to retrieve the child seats which she had left at ours, so I took them to her yesterday morning while Dot was waiting for her blood test.

On Sunday we had another downpour or two – the biggest one as church ended. We were afraid that our living room would be flooded again, and were relieved (and surprised) to discover no water at all on the floor when we got home. The rain and wind were  apparently the tail end of Hurricane Bertha – much worse in some other parts of the country.

We were a bit hesitant about fulfilling our scheduled visit to Walpole Old Chapel, near Halesworth, in the late afternoon for a poetry reading. But in Suffolk there had been little rain, and it was sunny and quite warm (though a bit windy). We were amazed at the number of people there – probably around a couple of dozen or more reading – and we all got to read three shortish poems or two long ones.

I read Something is required, Flood levels and Pelican, and they seemed to be well received. Mike Bannister, the organiser, was very welcoming and wanted me to read again at another Suffolk group. Another woman (wife of Hebridean poet James Knox Whittet) was convinced she knew me, but we couldn’t work out where or how. The whole affair lasted about 2½ hours. The chapel itself was amazing.

All this followed a full Saturday, which started with Dot visiting the doctor and getting a positive response to her complaint about her thyroxin tablets being cut. (She had been feeling under the weather, apparently as a result.) This doctor restored her former dose and said she could quote him if they tried to cut it again.

From here we proceeded to Jessie’s and then to the Gunton Arms, where we had an unexpectedly  full lunch. I had been anticipating a sandwich, but we were sat at a restaurant table, so I felt I had to order a proper meal. This was a mistake, but quite typical of me. However, the shoulder of lamb was excellent. I shouldn’t have had the cheese and biscuits, though. Felt too full the rest of the day, which included Denise’s 70th birthday party in the evening.

This was fun, despite our not knowing many of the people there: it is after all 30 years since we lived in Yelverton. We chatted with the Jarys and especially enjoyed catching up with Keith, Clive and Elaine. I also had a longish chat with Barbara, who is not well but remains cheerful. It was also nice to talk to the Wrights’ new next-door neighbours, a youngish couple (though they have an 18-year-old boy who is interested in journalism).

David, Chrissy and party

Uncategorized, , , , , , ,
Dot, Amy and Oliver on the brink
Dot, Amy and Oliver on the brink

David, Chrissy and the grandchildren have come and gone. It was a rather unusual visit that seemed to pass too quickly. It opened with a bang: Dot arranged an Arbonne party at the house for Wednesday evening, to which many of her friends were invited. Parking problems were surmounted through the use of chauffeurs (Julia), remote  parking (Anne and Bridget) and my positioning the MX5 in Rosary Road to make room for Sue and Judy. Too much detail, I hear you say.

The party seemed to go well, though I’m not sure how financially successful it was: in any case there is a suspicion that most of the friends came to see Chrissy, David and the grandchildren. I can hardly blame them for that.  I should make clear that it is Chrissy who is the Arbonne consultant, not Dot.

The weather has been warm, and some of the party was in the garden. On the Thursday Dot and I took the children to Winterton, one of their favourite spots, where we had a late lunch at the cafe and followed it up by some hide-and-seek in the dunes, which my ankle stood up to reassuringly well. Even Dot was able to move about a bit 🙂 We also spent some time on the beach, when all of us paddled.

While we did this, David and Chrissy were doing my Norwich Paston walk, partly as a test for some software he’s writing. They appeared not to get lost. There was also a great deal of table tennis played, with Oliver improving visibly as the three days progressed. In the end he was beating both Dot and me. Amy spent a lot of time watching some kind of drama on her small screen, and did not welcome intruders.

L:ate on the Friday David and Chrissy took my car to Suffolk to visit a cousin  of Chrissy’s. Earlier Richard had called round coincidentally and was able to talk to David about websites and similar matters.

The Caddington contingent returned home on Saturday just after lunch, following a visit to Hobbycraft and Morrisons and an unsuccessful search for a Mr Whippy. Sorry, Amy. The journey went well – probably a good time to travel.

After a rest in the afternoon, Dot and I went next door for a meal. Much of it was in the back garden, the weather still being very warm. But it ended in a thunderstorm:  we rushed home to take washing off the line when we saw the lightning, but returned for another half an hour.  Good food and drink and some enjoyable conversation, mainly philosophical 🙂

But this thunderstorm was nothing compared to the one that hit Norwich yesterday afternoon. We had been to church, where I preached on God being with us, and were sitting watching television when there was a huge, prolonged cloudburst. It wasn’t long before water came into our living room again. It seemed to come down the walls, but there was more on the floor than seemed to be indicated by marks on the walls. We got the towels out again and mopped it up.

Next door had flooding in the bathroom, and are having a builder round tomorrow. He is popping in to see us too.

In the evening Dot and I went to Lowestoft for a Seagull performance. We read a tanka series together and then I read a couple of my other poems which were well received, especially by Kaaren Whitney, who wants me to read at some other place in Suffolk in August. Uniquely, there was a guest poet, Rodney Pybus, who was pretty good, but it left little time for others, and the whole thing didn’t finish till after 10pm, by which time we were pretty tired.

Children and poetry highlights of the week

Uncategorized, , , , , ,
Dot walking near Worstead
Dot walking near Worstead

An exciting week, with two highlights: first, Oliver and Amy (that’s one), and second, the Suffolk Poetry Festival.

On Wednesday we headed for Caddington to collect the children for a short half-term stay with us: quite a while since they’ve been here on their own. The weather over the three days wasn’t ideal, but we had a great time around the house; so it didn’t matter. Table tennis came into its own, as did several other games, most of them invented by Amy. Dot even managed to fit in a blood test (before we went on the Wednesday) and an ECG (on the Wednesday afternoon).

We returned them on the Friday, managing to get them home by 1pm: they had a playdate with Chloe and Thomas in the afternoon. It’s all go for them too. Road works outside Luton are getting difficult, and as a result we found two new ways home: the first, on Wednesday, up the M1, along the A421, A1 and A428, joining the A14 at Cambridge – further but still quite quick; the second was a little detour round Stockwood Park, approaching the bedevilled roundabout from the less congested side. Much less congested, actually.

We had a slight alarm on the Tuesday, when after a huge downpour that lasted most of the morning we ended the day by finding water under the record player unit – not much, but it would have filled a bowl or two. Bit of a mystery: the walls were dry, the ceiling was dry, it was nowhere near the window, and we could only conclude that water had come down the chimney and through a gap where the floor joins the wall.

Unless it happens again, I shall treat it as a freak event and do nothing. I should imagine finding the gap and fixing it (if that is the problem) might be quite costly.

Earlier that day I had been to a PHS Trustees’ meeting at Mundesley. It was still raining hard, but not as bad as in the morning. I picked up Rob and gave him a lift. Lucy was not so good and told us that her cancer had returned. She will be having new treatment in a couple of months, but is soldiering on for now.

On Saturday we went to the Suffolk Poetry Festival in Stowmarket – chosen, I guess, for its easy access. Ho, ho. I was part of a small group from the Seagull poetry event, and I got to read three poems, plus a pentaptych tanka with Dot. This cost us £50, which represented £25 each entry to afternoon and evening of the festival.

I wasn’t over the moon about the money, but in fact I really enjoyed the day, partly because Caroline Gilfillan was one of the featured readers in the evening, and we were able to chat quite a lot. Other featured readers were Kate Foley (superb) and Luke Wright (totally off the wall and a great entertainer), but some of the other readers were good too. The weather was reasonable, and the journey no problem, though it took about an hour (roughly 40 miles). Dot was complimented on her reading and her jacket.

Yesterday afternoon Dot and and I went to Open Studios in Muspole Street, calling in briefly at St Peter Hungate first, as it was open. Saw Sophie Cabot, one of the trustees and a reader at the Julian Week. At Muspole Street we saw Martin Laurance, Lucy Edwards, Martin Mitchell and a couple of others artists – one printer and one jeweller. A warm day and a pleasant walk.

Today I’ve been to the supermarket, done a bit of catching up (but more to be done), then attended a Chronicle meeting at Fakenham, which left me with much more work toward the new Oxnead book and upcoming performance. I am about to have my hair cut, and then we will have a meal with Angela and Rodney at Prezzos to discuss A Ethel. Well, someone has to do it.

Exploring Oxnead

Uncategorized, , , , , , , , ,
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.