Tag Archives: rupert

Bluebells at Irstead

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Another gap there, I’m afraid. It’s taking me some time to get back to normal, whatever that is. Still, we have been reasonably busy.

On Monday last week, still feeling pretty jet-lagged, we went to Eleanor’s in Recreation Road (off the Avenues) for an at-home. Eleanor is chaplain at the hospital, a recent member of our congregation and is also ordained, so she took our Easter Communion when we were away. We met a few of her family, and some other members of St Augustine’s who popped in. Dot was able to advise a young woman on the path to take towards a career in teaching, so that was all good.

No let-up the next day, when a meeting of the Paston trustees took place at North Walsham. I managed to stay sufficiently awake to take the minutes, and was still fairly awake in the evening when we went with the Robinsons to the Red Lion in Eaton for a birthday celebration meal (Philip’s). I haven’t been very lucky (or clever) with my menu choices recently, and the smoked haddock was OK, but not exceptional. We all came back to 22, and there was a showing of holiday photographs on Apple TV.

Dot on the boardwalk at Barton Broad
Dot on the boardwalk at Barton Broad

The next day (Wednesday) was blank, so we decided eventually to go for a walk. I had seen a walk at Irstead in a book, but couldn’t find it, so did some web research, and we ended up surprisingly doing almost precisely the walk I’d lost (I found it again later). Irstead is pretty remote (a dead end village), but it has a lovely church, and there were plenty of bluebells nearby. We walked down narrow lanes to a newish boardwalk stretching out into Barton Broad; at the end it was pretty idyllic in the sunshine. The walk continued and was about 3½ miles altogether.

On  Thursday we had invited Jenny and Mary round for a meal as part of the new church initiative (don’t ask), but Mary was unable to come; so we had a lovely meal and evening with Jenny, who is sadly about to leave Norwich.

The “pressure” continued on Friday, when we went to an exhibition by Rupert and others at a house in Plumstead Road East. All rather strange – the house didn’t look welcoming, but it turned out to be a bit like the Tardis, with two lovely big rooms. Chatted to Rupert and in the end bought one of his paintings (not paid for yet), which he will bring round when he has the chance.

The same evening was the Paston annual meeting at the Ship Inn, Mundesley. Dot and I arrived very early as a result of unexpectedly traffic-free roads, but fortunately Rob and Penny were already there and had seized the room, which the waiters had been about to use for random diners. Some sort of misunderstanding, but they had sorted it out. In the end a very select gathering on a cold and foggy night (oh yes it was). I said a little bit about Chronicle and took the chair for the re-election of Rob, and Jo supplied some nice sandwiches. Lucy, not at all well, staggered over to give the treasurer’s report, and then staggered back with Dot’s help.

Dig-and-dial phone at Salthouse
Dig-and-dial phone at Salthouse

A weekend with the Coomes was scheduled, but Kristine rang at around 9am on the Saturday to say David had a very bad stomach problem. Dot moped around for a bit, and so we decided to go to Blakeney Hotel for afternoon tea, and that worked quite well. We got chairs and a nice view. The tide was high. We continued to Salthouse, where we were shocked to find the steep shingle bank had been flattened by the sea, and the car park buried. Added to Norwich losing 4-0 to Manchester Utd, this was a bit of a blow.

After church on Sunday we ventured out again to visit Jessie. I was feeling a bit ropey, but we had a nice time. My blood pressure, taken on Monday, was down slightly but still high and I tried to get the practice nurse interested in my problems, but she demonstrated an alarming lack of curiosity. I am now trying a bit of gluten-free to see if it helps. Meanwhile Dot was doing useful work in the garden, and not complaining.

At lunchtime I reported problems we’d been having with the pump on the central heating (it wouldn’t turn off at night), and amazingly I got an immediate response. Must have been a slow day. A guy came and not only fixed the pump but did our annual service too.

Shut out of exhibition

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Dot, with the University Broad in the background
Dot, with the University Broad in the background

I am writing this while listening to Norwich City getting hammered by Manchester City: 4-0 down after about half an hour and apparently unable to get the ball in their possession at all. Bit worried about Dot’s mental state.

Earlier in the week things went rather better for her. On Tuesday she went to an orchestra party and had a great time playing some tunes by sight. Meanwhile I was cooking for seven.  I say cooking: it was soup from a container, but it went Ok, with the help of a pineapple from Judy and an upside-down apple cake from Bridget.

On Wednesday we had our hair cut, just in time for me to walk to the Norfolk Record Office to hear Dr John Alban speak on the Fastolf letter. Very good stuff. Saw Judy and her friend there and said hello to a couple of NRO staff. Got back just as Dot’s accountant was preparing to leave.

On Thursday we were determined to have some time to ourselves; so after an eye test at Boots (varifocal glasses on order)  we went to Presto for lunch then deposited some cheques in two banks before getting a bus to the UEA to see the Masterpieces exhibition at the Sainsbury Centre. However, strike action by university unions had led to the closure of the centre. Not sure what I’ve done to hurt the university unions, but then strikes rarely affect the people they’re supposed to. Instead, we went for a brief walk in the university grounds and over to the hospital before getting another bus home (from the university).

Yesterday turned out better than expected, so we drove to Cromer to have lunch at the Bella Vista restaurant – which did indeed have a beautiful view of the pier and seashore. The food was pretty good too. Before reaching the restaurant we ran into Rupert and Shirley in the car park, where we bought some flowers on the way back – after a walk along the front.

From Cromer we drove to North Walsham cemetery, catching a glimpse of Jessie on the way (Dot got out of the car and had quite a long chat). Got home in good time for tea and watched four episodes of Breathless on TV. After two good nights, I had a very bad one.

Big Day survives winter’s tail

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Jessie cuts the cake

The snow is still with us, though it has stopped falling from the sky for a while. Some intrepid guy has spread sand on Aspland Road up to halfway, so there is no problem reaching the top. In fact we have been able to reach the top right through the current cold spell – though admittedly we haven’t been out much in the car.

Yesterday we did, though – because it was the Big Day, Jessie’s 80th, and a gathering had been scheduled to take place at the Wayford Bridge Inn for lunch. There had been a lot of snow late on Sunday, and I was a bit worried about emerging in view of the whiteness of the road; I took it very, very slowly down and reached the bottom with no problem. After that it was plain sailing. We picked Jude up from her house on Riverside Road, and the main roads in the county were more or less clear.

In fact the roads were so clear that, much to Jessie’s delight (and ours), David made a last-minute decision to come from Caddington and arrived in time – before some people who had come from North Walsham! The only person who didn’t make it, I think, was a friend who couldn’t get out of her drive in Acle. The Wayford Bridge Inn was excellent: staff very attentive and a first-class meal. I had one of the best steaks I’ve had for a very long time.

Amazing

There were 14 of us – Jessie; Dot, David and myself; Janet and Ray with Judy and her husband from St Albans; Roger, Liz and Philip; Jude; and George and Fiona. Afterwards David returned to Caddington and arrived in time for his swimming lesson in the evening. The rest of us went back to Jessie’s for the amazing cake that was our present to her – baked, of course, by the equally amazing Marion Sturgeon from Alburgh.

We headed for home just before 6pm, as it started to snow slightly. No real problems getting back. After we dropped Jude I was about to turn into Aspland Road when I noticed a car doing a three-point turn (!!) so continued right up Prince of Wales Road and turned round to approach from the other – and preferable – direction. This time a car was stuck two thirds of the way up; so I reversed to the bottom, and when he had finished slithering around and being pushed to the side of the road, I took a run at it and made the top easily.

Since last Thursday we had two lots of visitors who were not deterred by the weather: on Thursday the Kibbles and on Saturday the Robinsons, who decided to park outside the sorting office and walk through. Not necessarily a good idea: Philip fell over while pushing a car that was sliding around while turning at the top and coming to rest in the gutter (the car, not Philip). He was OK, though, and we had a good evening: Dot cooked some delicious steak and ale.

On Sunday we emerged for church and had no real problems, arriving very early – but not before Geoff Saunders, who was leading the service. Eventually we had 17, which is pretty good and no different from a normal Sunday, though it was quite  treacherous underfoot. Afterwards Dot and I parked near Fye Bridge and walked up to Mandells Gallery for Martin Laurance’s private view. Brilliant exhibition as always; we almost bought a painting, but by the time we got round to it, someone else had bought it. Damn spot.

Spoke briefly to Martin and at greater length to his partner Val; then to Annette and Mike, and Rupert. Several familiar faces from the Norfolk art world. Martin is quite interested in collaborating on some poetry-and-art project, which would be great if it came off. Have spoken to several people about possible book projects recently, but nothing definite. Still, it’s good to have irons in the fire. The tanka collaboration continues.

Meanwhile, Lucy has managed to fall over in the snow and injure her shoulder, as if she didn’t have enough problems. She is in hospital at Cromer, and so Rob and I have to represent her at the Norfolk Record Office on Thursday, which means I shall have to cancel a doctor’s appointment. Annoying, when they are so hard to come by. At present I am trying to make up my mind whether to have a Tuesday Group meeting tonight. No snow is forecast for today, so it should be possible, but there is still a lot of snow up here, and if certain people fell over, we would never be able to get them up again.

 

Trail turns colder

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Unexpected reflection in a piece of scuplture on the Bergh Apton trail

Weather is turning more Scottish after a very pleasant few days. It started towards the end of the Bergh Apton Sculpture Trail yesterday, which we visited with Howard and Anna after a Peruvian church lunch. I had led the service because of an illness in the original leader’s family, and the lunch was provided by our Peruvian member, Elvira. It turned out to be a rather unexotic clear soup with mildly interesting bread, followed by some English cheesecake provided by bride-to-be Donna, who is unexpectedly going to live at Gorleston after the wedding.

The Sculpture Trail, which happens every two years, attracts big numbers, and we usually run into a few people we know. Not many this year, except for former colleague and excellent writer Steve Snelling, with whom we chatted at some length, and Dot’s DSSO colleague Maggie Broad, whom we met as we were leaving, after tea and cake at the village hall. The trail had started very warm – so much so that I took my thin jumper off halfway round. It may have been this that provoked the weather people, because a wind immediately got up, and the temperature dropped steadily until it became really quite chilly. It then rained overnight, just in time for Jennie’s arrival, well, any time now. She’s staying for three days. Roger and Jude dropped in last night for a drink and talk: Valerie’s funeral has been fixed for Friday next week.

In other news, we had a pleasant lunch with the Kibbles on Friday, making a return to the Waffle House after many years, and after that I called in on Phil and Joy, mainly to thank them for looking after our garden while we were away. On Saturday we had our hair cut, and I left Dot in a business meeting with Barbara while I dropped in at Martin and Rupert’s Open Studio, buying £30 worth of assorted small art: boxes and cards. They will be leaving the studio soon: Rupert probably working from his home after he moves into his partner’s house, and Martin spending half his time at a studio near his partner’s home in Kent, which he has for nine months.

What with loads of open studios and the sculpture trail, I suspect there is too much art floating around and not enough people to buy it.

1 June 2008

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Rather a nice picture of Oliver and Amy emerging from the jungle, which not many people know is situated at the rear of their house. Amy is typically nonchalant, while Oliver has managed to find water – not difficult in the circumstances, as the rain had hardly stopped. This weekend has been drier. Yesterday I went out to Paston and found myself involved in Caroline’s poetry workshop, which turned out to be fun. I was reminded about some unusual verse forms that I might employ. Afterwards I walked over to the cliffs through a field of barley and then along the cliff and back: a triangular route of about a couple of miles. Took a few pictures. On the way home followed a stream of 45mph drivers who seem to think going more slowly is going to save them money on fuel. If only they knew how much danger it’s putting them in…

Today was church lunch: a rather odd affair with most of the regulars away but numbers made up by irregular visitors. The service had a strange, disjointed kind of feeling. Trevor is back after his hernia operation, which is encouraging, and Chris has received a temporary all-clear on her tests. In the afternoon Dot and I popped in at Bally Open Studios, mainly to see Rupert, who was there with two of his collaborators – photographer and friend Shirley, and film-maker Mark Sargeant. He is still showing much of his parents’ work, and there was an amusing installation of a man disappearing under sand, which made witty use of the broken factory floor.