Tag Archives: roof

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.

Chilly wind blowing round Mr Bunn

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Dot at sunny Southwold

The weather has turned to autumn, with a chilly wind blowing around Mr Bunn, who has been on the roof for the last couple of days, repairing our valley and replacing some tiles. He should finish later today, as should Tim the decorator (no, not me: this one’s from Yarmouth and knows what he’s doing). Both very pleasant and helpful guys. Tim woke me at 8am yesterday, but today I was ready for him, despite having a lousy night for some reason. Dot is out at Acle school, but I’m expecting her back soon.

So the living room should be completed and dry by tomorrow. Unfortunately we can’t get the furniture back till Monday, but that’s a minor thing really.

On Saturday, when it was still relatively warm, we had our hair cut and then went to Southwold to celebrate the Robinsons’ ruby wedding. We arrived a couple of hours early and after driving round by the harbour (spoiled visually by a lot of construction work going on) we parked on the seafront and walked down to the pier, where we had a cup of tea in a cafe out of the wind. Then we drove up to the Swan and negotiated its parking challenge (the most contorted parking area I’ve ever come across) before Dot went into the loo and changed into her dinner party clothes. The Robinson family duly arrived – children earlier than parents, who brought Francine with them. Eleven of us in all, and a very nice meal.

I was preaching at church on Sunday and completed my preparation less than an hour before the service started. Still, it went OK, and afterwards I sat in the church for an hour waiting to see if anyone wanted to look round – it was Heritage Day. One woman did, the sparse attendance possibly down to a mistake in the Heritage booklet, which had us open only on the Saturday. When Claire arrived to take over, Dot and I made for North Walsham via Morrisons (I was almost out of petrol) and took in the cemetery before visiting Jessie and supplementing our lunchtime sandwiches with a piece of cake. The cemetery was at its best – really warm in the afternoon sun.

Last night I replayed my knockout chess game against Greg, which was again an up-and-down affair. I emerged eventually with a clear advantage, but in time trouble couldn’t be sure of the winning line. I messed it up, but he obliged by taking so long over his calculations that he lost on time. So I am through to the next round.

Tea at Mannington Hall

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Amy enjoying the sea at Mundesley last week

Have managed to reach Friday in a rather stressful week. The roof has been fixed temporarily, and the ceiling has a tasteful white sheet covering the holes and the damp section. It stayed up at the second attempt. The second surveyor (for the builders) said the asbestos positive meant the whole ceiling would have to be removed and reinstated, which would involve moving all the furniture out and making good afterwards. Haven’t heard the insurance company’s reaction to this, but it leaves us still in limbo, which I hate. I am not good at waiting.

Meanwhile Dot has finished the wall-painting, and I have painted the trapdoor to the loft, because I am taller. Well, to be more accurate, I have painted it once, and I am about to paint it again. Dot is now immersed in improving the look of the garden, and keeps arriving home with a car full of plants. Keep catching bits  of the Olympics, but not always the right bits. Happily the BBC website is quite good on videos of bits you miss. I am as pro-Team GB as anyone, but I did rather enjoy those South African rowers who came from miles back to snatch the gold.

Two further sources of stress: intermittent Broadband connection at the beginning of the week for no apparent reason; and the unexpected difficulty of finding transport for church members without cars who want to go on a boat trip to St Benet’s Abbey on Sunday for the afternoon service. This would have been difficult enough anyway, but Dot and I are taking Phil and going on to Lowestoft afterwards for our third Seagull gig, so couldn’t take anyone. One of our members with a car didn’t know if she was going until Thursday, another (understandably) didn’t want to come into the city to collect people, and the two people at St Luke’s who might have helped were unreachable by phone or email. Howard could borrow a people carrier but couldn’t drive it because he had no insurance. Aargh! In the end I gatecrashed the Vicarage and spoke to Heather, with the result that Nicholas is going to drive the people carrier.

Our church is full of people who can’t drive or don’t have a car, or both. On Thursday Ian asked me to pick him up from the City College midway through the evening, which I did, of course.

Tuesday was kind of a highlight, because I had tea with Lord and Lady Walpole at Mannington Hall. Also present were Lucy, Jo and John, and we were discussing the Paston event at the Hall in October (weekend of 27–28). As Chronicle, the four of us – Caroline, Rob, Kay and I – are going to do two half-hour slots, but we will have to rework The Heroine of Hungate to introduce a Mannington connection. This is not quite as obscure as I thought it was (there is a 15th century marriage), but it will take a bit of working out. Afterwards Jo and John paid for lunch for Lucy and myself (and them) at the Saracen’s Head. Very impressive spot for lunch. Excellent food. Probably the fist gooseberry compote with mackerel I have ever had.

In the evening Tuesday Group was at the Archers, and another excellent repast – this time sausages and mashed potatoes – was followed by a very tasty video by Rob Bell. This was almost matched culturally on Thursday by a second attempt at a poetry group at the Narthex at St John’s Roman Catholic Cathedral, led by Hilary Mellon. Ten of us present, and it worked much better than the one on Betjeman. We looked closely at three of six Larkin poems that he had read out electronically and without hiccoughs at the start. Found myself liking his work a lot, though not his rather dour philosophy.

Have just made a list of areas for which I am responsible, in an attempt to work out why I never have time to do anything. I am up to 24 at the moment.

About as perfect as it gets

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Dave and Anandi Brennan

At last summer has arrived, and we are bathed in warm sunshine. Yesterday Adrian and Clarissa arrived in their Potter Heigham boat, Gliding Light, and moored at the bottom of the road. We joined them for a drink in the Compleat Angler (bottom deck), and later they  came up to ours for a kind of high tea in the garden – sitting outside till about 10pm! They had their friends Brian and Celia with them, and we had a good evening. The weather is set to continue as we pick up Oliver and Amy later today.

An eventful few days, it must be said, starting last Thursday with a haircut and visit to a poetry session on John Betjeman in the Narthex at St John’s RC Cathedral. Still cool and wet then, and the session was not brilliant. The members of the group were less than inspiring, and leader Hilary M was not at her best, feeling the effects of blood sugar loss and having problems with the equipment.

Friday was brilliant, however. The surveyor eventually turned up and didn’t inspire an awful lot of confidence. We decided to let the insurers supply a builder for the ceiling repairs (skimming, replacing some plasterboard, and making the ceiling good), but the roof is not covered (if you see what I mean). So I have contacted Mr Bunn the Builder – well, he’s a roofer, actually. He came this morning and did inspire confidence. He’s going to make the roof watertight in the next couple of days and do a complete job on the “valley” and tiles a couple of weeks later. Needless to say the roof featured things he had never seen before.

But that’s not why Friday was brilliant. That was down to Anandi’s wedding at the Cathedral, which was a one-off. Not that it was perfect: the sermon was too long, we couldn’t see clearly, and we had difficulty hearing the speeches at the reception because Blackfriars Hall has lousy acoustics. But it was a fine day and it all had a lovely naturalness and simplicity – for instance, the bride and groom walked from the cathedral to Blackfriars. After the service we had champagne and nibbles in the cloisters for quite a long time: lots of people from St Augustine’s were there, but only Dot and I (plus the vicar and his wife) were invited to the reception. In the cloisters we had music from an a cappella group which had appeared on TV but which was composed mainly of friends of the groom – who sang a little bit as a tribute to his wife! Both Anandi and her new husband Dave are so likeable it’s frightening.

Debbie and Neil with (the Rev) Heather Cracknell, who took the service

On Saturday another “wedding”: this time a renewal of vows after 25 years by Debbie and Neil, two friends from St Luke’s. By now the weather was stunning, and the setting – Ranworth Church on the Broads – was equally gorgeous. Debbie went the whole hog with a white dress, bridesmaids and all the trimmings – we think because their actual wedding had been a registry office affair and very low-key. Cake and tea afterwards in the church grounds (it has a church hall cafe) completed the picture, together with a trip up the church tower, with its spectacular views.

Earlier in the day Colin came round and cut the hedge, and I went to the launch of Joe’s book, Journeying with Abraham, at St Andrew’s Church, Eaton. Couple of dozen people there, which was encouraging for him, and I had a chat with both him and Birgit. Then at the end of a very packed day, Dot and I went round to the Higbees for a meal, which was very relaxing. As a result of that, Alan H came round yesterday to put right a problem with the lighting in the loft that he had installed.

Bright day on Sunday: after a nice service at church, with Geoff debuting as preacher, we relaxed. Dot spent a lot of time gardening, and I watched quite a bit of the Open and saw the end of the Tour de France, with Wiggins in yellow, Froome second and Cavendish winning the final sprint. Which is about as perfect as it gets in the world of cycling.

There’s a hole in my ceiling…

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Dot and Julia, shopping in hand, approach a cafe in Villers

I think we can say it hasn’t worked – in spades. But at least it’s stopped raining for the moment. That means there’s no water entering the roof space and finding its way down into the living room, via the piece of insulation that soaks it up and redistributes it through one of the two large holes in the ceiling, created when I placed my hand on it (very gently) from above.

I was trying to identify the source of the dampness and perhaps move some stuff to prevent it getting worse, but the smallest pressure on the ceiling was enough to thwart that plan. Now we are awaiting a phone call from the insurer’s surveyor to make an appointment to come and look at the damage. This is likely to involve some quite drastic work in the living room, and a bit on the roof too. I suspect that water had been getting inside and being soaked up for some time. The surveyor seems reluctant to ring: I reported it all 24 hours ago. But at least the water has stopped dripping through, and the room is usable.

The chaos is exacerbated by the fact that Dot is in the midst of redecoration in preparation for new curtains. She has nearly finished our bedroom (a new pole was fitted yesterday), and once that is done she will probably have to abandon painting the living room until we find out what needs to be done, and when. We managed to have our usual Tuesday Group meal and meeting last night, but Dot and I were totally shattered at the end of it. This morning she is visiting a school, but she should be back soon.

 

Alternative route

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Oliver demonstrating skill at... oh... whatever that thing is.
Oliver demonstrating skill at... oh... whatever that thing is.

The start of a new week, and the roof men are still hard at it. They would have finished, but for two things: I woke up in the middle of the night on Thursday and had this sudden feeling that they hadn’t put the gutter-guard in to protect the gutters from the huge amounts of leaves we get from the trees behind our property. This turned out to be true, though how I knew and why I woke up thinking about it remain mysteries. This was going to add a couple of hours to the job, and while one of the guys was off getting the materials from the yard, the other one cut himself really deeply on the hand, and we had to get him to hospital. So no more work that day. I was quite worried that he might have damaged tendons, or something, but happily he had “only” nicked a vein, and he is back today with a handful of stitches and a certain amount of pain. I asked him if he thought he should be working. He thought he should. What can I say? It will be nice to have it finished.

The hedge has been cut too – on Saturday morning, by Colin – and we suddenly have light in the kitchen. No injuries reported.

Back to Friday night, when I had an invitation to the Twenty Group’s FourSite saga… sorry, I mean party… to celebrate the end of their Bally exhibition. Dot came for the start and left me chatting and wandering around while she picked up a present for Oliver from A Ethel for an hour or so before returning and picking me up. Most of them I didn’t know, but I chatted to John Rance, his wife Caroline and daughter Rachel, plus Hilary Mellon, Liz Clark, Kate, Philippa Fawcett and Ruthli. No sign of any InPrint members. When Dot returned she stepped in for a few minutes and found herself, amazingly, talking to someone (Caroline) who was involved in an educational issue she had been discussing with a head teacher earlier in the day.

After the hedge was finished we had a quick lunch and shot off to Caddington. Very quick journey and a lovely weekend. All three of them were a lot healthier than they’d been earlier in the week, and Oliver was keen to get to grips with his presents, which included a walking pole and a Lego Star Wars model. Despite the walking pole he showed no inclination to leave the house, and spent most of the weekend building the model and playing with it (he’s a talented builder) and then playing Wii games, partly against David and partly against me. I performed pretty miserably, which I think suited him. He’s amazingly proficient at them. Amy is still more interested in her invented doll games, which are wonderful, and is saying some really bright things. Left after they were asleep (Dot read them The Tunnel by Anthony Browne on the first night, and I read Oliver some of The Hobbit on the Sunday). Good journey home by the alternative route, because the previous day we’d seen a notice warning of night closure of a key road. Dot drove, and although it was about ten miles further, it didn’t take much longer because there are some fast sections.

The weather has improved again: over the weekend it was pretty warm and today it’s quite pleasant. Dot has gone off to rendezvous with Jessie as she alights from the bus at Anglia Square (a mission fraught with hazards), after which she is taking her to see the other aunt (Ethel) at Hethersett.

Noble service

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Attempting unsuccessfully to disguise itself as natural foliage, some scaffolding makes a front assault on our house.
Attempting unsuccessfully to disguise itself as natural foliage, some scaffolding makes a frontal assault on our house.

I am surrounded by scaffolding and vehicles carrying ladders. The house is midway through its transformation, with nearly a half of the new bargeboards and fascia boards in place and the street nicely disrupted. The district manager of the company came round yesterday, and suddenly it became necessary to erect proper scaffolding at the top end of the house. This is also in progress as I write, with the scaffolding lorry at first blocking exit from the Wildlife Trust but now tight in behind the company van. Two cups of tea, two of coffee just delivered. Wife in south Norfolk, visiting a school and about to return for lunch if she can find somewhere to park. Autumn still in the air but in more benevolent mood, with rain threatening but holding off and the temperature up a bit. Hoping the wall doesn’t fall down as the scaffolders clamber over it.

The roof guys were here yesterday too, and completed quite a bit before dashing off to Watton to deliver a water butt. Dot was at Yarmouth for lunch with Anne and the perennial challenge of finding her way out of the town afterwards. For some reason this takes much longer than it should. We have consulted maps and plan a new approach next time, but I have to agree that the signs in Yarmouth are considerably less than helpful. # I put that # in because I just discovered how to do it on a Mac keyboard, which strangely doesn’t have it as a dedicated key. It’s alt+3, in case you were wondering.

Vicar Nicholas came round for tea. He is pretending not to be in the city, because he is still on sabbatical, but he made an exception for the tea and for going to see Quadrophenia with me at the Theatre Royal. He has just written the first draft of his book on Developing Consciousness, and has left it for me to look at. Quadrophenia was very impressive both musically and as theatre, with four actors/singers playing the lead role and some extremely clever direction. Always liked The Who, and the music was easily identifiable as theirs. The drummer was not Keith Moon, said Nicholas. He was correct. Keith Moon is dead. I did have this slight feeling while watching it that one attitude fostered by it – that a job serving other people is for some reason degrading – might be symptomatic of one of the faults in our society. Everyone wants to be served, but no-one wants to serve. Can’t work, can it? Service is a noble calling.

Tuesday was asbestos day, with a company from London coming up and identifying the guilty substance in its various guises, and then removing it. Much sucking of teeth at first, but it didn’t take them too long to get rid of it and head off back to Epping. Barbara V was also here, and she and Dot (with a little help from me) looked at how they were going to approach the publishing project centering on assemblies using Philosophy4Children. It was decided I would attempt to supply a series of stories based on six diverse characters. So I will attempt that. Inspiration, you may strike here.

I’ve been feeling a little tired since Monday evening, when I had a mammoth 71-move chess game against a guy from Thetford. I was at a disadvantage for most of it, but hung in until I had three or four minutes left and he had about one, when he made a slight miscalculation and I scraped a draw with an intermezzo check from my knight enabling me to get back and cover a pawn which had been about to queen. He was a bit upset, and so would I have been. As it was, I was delighted but so strung out that I found it very hard to sleep, especially as I was feeling a bit sick, for some reason. Still, I guess it was worth it. How can you tell?