Tag Archives: rob

No time to catch breath

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Heather and some other guy
Heather and some guy

Forget what I’ve said about busy weeks in the past. This week just never stopped. On Tuesday Dot was in Liverpool, philosophising very successfully. In the morning I went to the Archant coffee morning and exchanged photos with Brian and Robin. Meanwhile the Hendersons borrowed out permit while they went to Buckingham Palace (on a tour). In the afternoon I was up in the Forum with Rob, Peter, and Karen, discussing the bid for our forthcoming project and becoming more and more doubtful that we would be able to complete the work in time. Afterwards I stayed in the city (bought birthday card and book for Oliver) until the launch of a book at Mandells Gallery: Searle on Norfolk School etchings, published by Susan Currran’s company.

Earlier in the day I had almost sorted out the saga of the MX5, and the photographer came and took pictures at 7pm. The next morning I rang the insurance company to find they had at last done something quickly and had looked at the pictures and agreed the car was repairable. However their nearest approved repairer was in Halesworth (unbelievable).  I agreed to go along with this: said repairer was due to ring me back, but instead they rang Dot’s mobile (unbelievable). She was at Aldborough, delivering more philosophy, but managed to give me their number. I rang back and we fixed a time for them to pick the car up: Thursday the 10th!! (unbelievable) It’s a good job we have another car.

When the man from British Gas came to overhaul our system the following day, he pointed out that one of the tyres on the MX5 was flat! This was a new tyre, and it couldn’t have been affected by the accident. So another problem to sort out. On the plus side, he seems to have done a very good job on the radiators, though there is  weird trickling sound…

While he was working Liz Day came round for a cup of tea and in-depth discussion. All discussions with Liz are in depth. Later Dot went to the funeral directors with Rodney and Angel and took a couple of hours to sort out details of the funeral, before returning home just in time for Linda to cut our hair. Later we went to Morrisons to stock up on food for two lots of visitors.

On Friday I delivered the Paston magazines to Rob’s at North Walsham and then picked up Dot’s pills from the chemist. In the afternoon I called to see poet Joy and her husband Andy, where I had a cup of tea and pleasant talk. Before I left Nick from the printer happened to call round and I was able to tell him how everyone at Paston had admired the mags. At some time that day I believe I had a longish talk with a lady at Coventry about Andrew, during which I agreed to represent him in any discussion about what was best for him.

In the evening our neighbours Bob and Mary and Des and Chris came round for drinks and nibbles, and we demolished four bottles of red wine between us, though I feel that neither Dot nor I had a sixth of the total. Pleasant evening, ending at 11.40, when Des and Chris went home.

Yesterday, with the weather pretty chilly (as it is today) Heather and Simon came for lunch, but not before I had walked to Morrisons and got some last-minute food. Had a really nice time with them, and we ended by walking up with them to the Jeff Koons exhibition at the Castle, which ends today. On the whole, it was better than I thought it would be. Later Anne called round for tea and talk.

Today started with my leading the service, preaching and writing the prayers for Dot, who is feeling a bit under the weather. Afterwards she drove home while I went to a PV at Mandells Gallery by Kate Coleman and chatted with Martin Laurance (and Kate). To be honest, I’m not feeling 100% either, but thought I’d go to the Seagull tonight to round the week off! Dot is staying at home.

Last man standing in poetry marathon

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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.

Losing track of time

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Dot, Sue and Fred on the beach near Beeston
Dot, Sue and Fred on the beach near Beeston

An exceptionally busy week goes by, and the busyness continues. This afternoon I head for Mundesley for a Paston trustees’ meeting, and tomorrow I drive to Coventry to visit Andrew. Fortunately my health continues to improve. But back to the past…

Tuesday last week saw another Archant coffee morning, this one with the addition of Maryta, plus Brian Caldecott and Tricia. Clearly an EDP subs’ takeover is in the offing. Good to see Brian, who looked well although he isn’t (he has rheumatoid arthritis).

Saw Maryta again the next day, when the Hendersons took us on a North Norfolk trip, starting with a longish dog walk at Felbrigg Hall, where we saw frogs mating and enjoyed a light lunch, continuing at Beacon Hill (Roman Camp), where they lost the dog – sadly not permanently; it returned to Dot and me while they were off down the ravine looking for it – and on to Blakeney, where we had a shorter walk and then an excellent afternoon tea at the Blakeney Hotel, overlooking the marshes. Discovered to our surprise that the Hendersons had not been to Blakeney before: that’s what comes of living south of Norwich. Weather fine, with a chilly wind.

On Thursday Dot had a violin lesson with a friend from the orchestra and completely lost track of time, so that I had to ring her and remind her to come home and see Sam, Lucy and Elliott, who had dropped in during a short visit to Norwich. Elliott very smiley and crawly; Sam less so.

On Friday we were off to the north coast again, this time to visit Fred and Sue at Beeston Regis. We visited Cookie’s at Malthouse and the called at the Cley Wildlife centre, which has been much improved, despite being pretty good to start with. Our neighbours the Norfolk Wildlife Trust can’t be short of money. From the centre the marshes looked much more open; most of the trees had disappeared following the tidal surge.

On the way back to Beeston we stopped at Sheringham, where I had a delicious gooseberry ice cream and we watched a girl called Karen lovingly construct a message in stone on the beach to her boyfriend Len (we’re making several assumptions here). Back at Beeston we took a stroll along the beach, where I managed to lose the eyepiece to my binoculars. Again, a lovely dry day, but with a chilly wind in the evening. It even rained on our way home, but that was probably very localised.

On Saturday Dot spent most of the day (if not all of it) preparing for the visit of Chronicle and spouses (Rob, Penny, James, Ann) for an evening meal. This was supposed to include a discussion about the progress were were making on the next Chronicle project, but we had such an interesting discussion on other matters (some theological) that we never got to that. I will raise it today when I see Rob for lunch.

Yesterday I preached a bit, and Eleanor led a Holy Communion in her lovely understated way. Vicky came, as did Ruth and Steve, so we had four children in the congregation. We have discovered that the new vicar is gay, or if not exactly gay, unnecessarily happy. In the afternoon Richard came round with the delightful Maddy and Darcy, and we had an Easter egg hunt followed by other excitement and a certain amount of food. Norwich scored a last-minute goal to beat Bolton, which meant Dot was pretty happy too.

A series of tanka I wrote for Lent has been accepted for inclusion in the spring edition of the Atlas Poetica, published in America. Surprised and delighted.

Troop ship to China

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Dot with the temporary Corsa
Dot with the temporary Corsa

Half-term week seemed empty, but it filled up fairly rapidly. The first three days saw blue skies, but yesterday it rained in the afternoon and evening, and today it’s just chilly and grey. I’ve just been up to the city to buy some new paper for the printer and was picked up by Dot on her circuitous way back from collecting her pills. Well, that paper is pretty heavy.

On Tuesday we eventually managed to fulfil our promised visit to Mairead and Simon for a cup for tea. The children were with his father; so we had a fairly uninterrupted hour or so, if you don’t count the dog. Simon seemed a lot better, but still awaits news of what they can do about his leg, which gives him a lot of pain. In the afternoon Dot and I went up to the Castle and heard Rob speaking in the person of John Paston III abut the Pastons in Norwich. Nice costume. Penny was there too, and so was David Clegg, the lutanist, who I failed to recognise without his hat.

In the evening we gave a lift to Judy when we visited Claire for Pancakes and Compline. I have a great fondness for pancakes, and it’s sad that we seem to have them only once a year. All present and correct, which was nice.

On Wednesday morning I at last managed to visit Mary Welander at Eckling Grange, which was a strange experience. She is 98 (almost) and has very poor eyesight, but is quite alert. Once I’d explained who I was things went reasonably well; I replaced the battery in her clock and read her post to her. She has nice little bungalowette in the grounds of the main house, and has been there for about 30 years, since her return from Malaysia, where she had been as a nurse for the previous 30 years.

She has connections with Surrey Chapel (as well as being Joy McCall’s niece) and she went out to China as a nurse/missionary in December 1945 on a troop ship to Bombay, followed by a train across India and a light plane into China. She was at a hospital in north-west China, near the Gobi Desert, until she was deported by the Communists. She returned to England, working for a while in 1951 at North Walsham Cottage Hospital (amazingly enough) before someone realised that the nurses who’d been in China (and could speak the language) would be good in Malaysia, where there were a lot of Chinese. So off they went.

I left when her lunch of liver and bacon arrived. It didn’t look very exciting, unlike the first part of her life. Later in the day Dot and I visited Jessie, who is a mere 82 and very lively. Excellent tea and buns. I always enjoy seeing her.

Yesterday evening Paul and Maryta came round for supper of fish pie and carrot soup, though not in that order. Paul seems to be feeling at a bit of a loose end after his retirement, though he says he’s writing a book about being a headmaster. Maryta is doing lots of riding and dog-walking. Both of them are worried about their neighbours’ proposed extension, which does sound a bit intrusive.

Karen and Julia at UEA

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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.

Children and poetry highlights of the week

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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.

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.