Tag Archives: school

Tracked down crocodile in Felbrigg Hall

The usual suspects at Creake Abbey
The usual suspects at Creake Abbey

Summer seems to be with us: today is bright and warm, and Dot has just left for Metfield for a session with Barbara. Yesterday the weather was similar, and Dot and I had a go at cutting the hedge, with reasonable results. Of course we can’t reach the other side of the top…

Despite the bad weather forecast, we had a good weekend at Blakeney with Julia, Dave, Alan and Rosemary. The promised rain did not materialise except when we were at the hotel, and on the Sunday, when we visited Felbrigg Hall for the first time,  it was actually warm and dry.

Interesting place, and more to see inside than I had anticipated. I tracked down the picture of William Paston and his crocodile, though it was hard to distinguish the latter, because the light fell badly. Outside there are lovely grounds that we intend to explore another time, but we did have a long look at the magnificent walled garden, which includes allotments hireable by locals – a great idea.

The previous day, when we’d been expecting rain following downpours in Norwich and on the journey on the Friday, we got away with a dark sky and not much else. We did a walk at North Creake. Halfway round were the ruins of Creake Abbey, which I’d never visited, and nearby some shops and a cafe  rather beautifully presented.

After stopping for refreshment we started on the second half of the walk, but Dot was feeling her ankle; so she returned to the shops and cafe while we completed the circle, which included some rough walking over fields that she did well to avoid. After more refreshment, we popped into the rather impressive church and bought some jam, then headed home by way of Big Blue Sky, which seems to have shifted its focus away from books. Still a nice shop, though.

The hotel at Blakeney had been hit by the floods earlier in the year but had recovered well: the food was still good (especially the breakfasts), and as usual we brought the average age of residents down a bit. As usual we started the weekend with tea in the upstairs lounge at the Blakeney Hotel, with its stunning views and first-class scones.

On the Monday both Dot and I had appointments in Blakeney: she had been asked to go to the local church school to assist them in preparation for an inspection, and I called in on Godfrey Sayers, a water colour artist who has written a book on the area, where he has lived almost all his life. He has a house and rambling garden in Wiveton, and the caravan that used to be on the carnser in Blakeney displaying his pictures is now parked there. I have no idea how he got it to the inaccessible spot that it stands in. I asked him, and he said: “Land Rover.” I decided not to pursue it.

He wants me to proof read (by which I think he means edit) his book, and I took it away with me. We talked about it, and about his job as flood warden for Wiveton, and it sounds fascinating. It sits in front of me now, demanding my attention. But so do many other things. I will get to it very soon.

After meeting at the school, Dot and I called in at Cley nature reserve for a scone and drink, plus a short walk, during which we saw a marsh harrier. The scone was a bit of a mistake, because we also called at Jessie’s, where a cake awaited. I was unable to eat much of it.

The Apple picture books I created for our Iona friends have arrived, and have been sent on their way. Quite pleased with them. In sport, a brilliant match between Belgium and the USA (well, the extra time bit, anyway), and a new star at Wimbledon: Nick Kyrgios, a 19-year-old Australian, blew Nadal away.

Cold and misty landscape

The stunning village of Kersey, in Suffolk

Lots going on, as you might expect for the time of year, and more travelling too. Last Saturday Dot and I went with Phil to watch Norwich City lose 2-0 to Portsmouth. Actually, that’s not why we went – we went to see them win, but I suppose our run of seeing only victories had to end some time. Phil came because Jonathan had three spare tickets. Quite a pleasant day, but it got cold rapidly after darkness fell.

Huge amounts to to take to church on Sunday, what with Christmas presents and music stands, and it was one of those mornings where things did not run smoothly. Nevertheless, an excellent talk from Mark Heybourne and a good atmosphere, with Howard leading. Dot was playing at a Julian Window music and meditation event later, and I picked her up so that she could come home and change before going (driven by Heather Cracknell) to an evening meal (cheeses,quince jelly, beef wellington) with the Archers at the home of the Greens, who must come close to being the perfect hosts. Lovely food and intelligent conversation, with plenty of humour.  And Bridget drove us home, so I didn’t have to watch my wine consumption too carefully.

Highlight of Monday was my chess win for Dons B against a player ranked well above me. I didn’t play the opening well and got into a position where I had to sacrifice the exchange for a pawn to avoid losing my queen. But after that he played too passively and got into bad time trouble: I got a really nice attack and sacrificed a knight which won against anything really, but with seconds left he played the worst line, and walked into a mate. Satisfying, but not the prefect game by any means. We lost the match 3-1.

On Tuesday Dot and I ventured into Suffolk again. Dot left fairly early for Metfield, where she spent much of the day planning for a P4C event at Dulwich College Prep School in January. After rushing around preparing in various ways for Christmas, I joined her late in the afternoon, after nearly losing the MX5 in a skid on mud near Harleston. I would say it was beautifully controlled, but there was nothing very beautiful about it: I just reacted instinctively and apparently did the right thing, since I was still on the road at the end of it. We left the MX5 at Metfield and drove to Little Waldingfield, near Sudbury, after a tortuous, dark drive down the A143 in a tail behind a huge lorry doing a constant 40mph. In the end we took an alternative route and heard on the radio immediately afterwards that we had avoided a big hold-up. Still not easy, though, and even after we got to Little Waldingfield (after taking the wrong road out of Lavenham because of a misleading map) we took ages to find the B&B. I walked up and down the main street, then we looked at the directions and found that the place was far from where the computer postcode-generated map indicated it would be. All got a bit tense, but the place itself was fine, though not nearly as grand as it seemed on the web.

Our B&B at Little Waldingfield: hard to find, but a nice breakfast

The following day there was ice on the windscreen, and after an excellent breakfast I had to scrape around before dropping Dot at Great Waldingfield School, which left me about seven hours to fill. I returned to the B&B for a bath and cup of tea, then ventured out into a cold, misty landscape that had nothing very appealing about it at first. First stop was Lavenham Church, where I talked to a couple of people, including a guy burning solidified candle wax off a candle holder. The previous night we had dined at the Swan Inn (excellent fish and chips, ate too much) and met another guy who was staying at our B&B. He had mentioned the window at Lavenham Church and told us about a man who had shown him the sunset through it, which he describesad an unforgettable experience – “as if it was on fire”. It turned out that the candle-burning guy was the man he had met. What are the chances of that happening? Well, reasonably high, because he was the verger, but still unexpected.

After this I drove into the middle of Lavenham and walked briefly, but it was very cold. So I drove to Kersey, a village recommended on a leaflet I’d bought at the church. It was truly stunning: a long narrow street running down steeply on both sides into a valley, with a ford running through. I drove right through and up to the church, where I stopped briefly. Very nice feeling to the whole area. Not far away I stopped at the 13th century St James’s Chapel, which was bare and cold, but atmospheric. Wanting to warm up I drove into Sudbury, then back to Lavenham, where I bought a cheese baguette and took it back to a viewpoint not far from the chapel, where I ate and read for a while. Afterwards I drove on again through beautiful countryside (despite the damp and mucky weather) and even found Kettlebaston, home of one of Dot’s college friends. Unfortunately I also found lots of mud, stemming from the sugar beet harvesting going on nearby. When we got home later I had to get the car cleaned, as well as checking the tyres and replenishing the screen-wash.

After hearing from Dot that she would be finished by 4pm, I paid a brief visit to Long Melford, but it was getting too dark to see much, so I returned to wait for Dot, who had unsurprisingly found the school outstanding. We drove home by the normal route, but it was tiring, because of the diversion to pick up the MX5 at Metfield, and it was over two hours before we arrived in Norwich.

Today it is raining steadily and we are awaiting icy conditions again, with a threat of a white Christmas on the horizon. I say “threat” because of the difficulty it might cause with travelling for David, the grandchildren and myself. Dot is out doing a bit of essential shopping: picking up some table coverings for church, mainly. I’ve just finished another poem, which I’m quite pleased with. After a period of writing nothing much, I’ve written several in the past few weeks. Quite exciting. For me, not for anyone else.

Baguettes, potatoes and sunglasses

House at Lamole
The house we stayed in at Lamole, near Greve in Chianti. You can see only two of the three storeys.

An odd week. Dot has been very busy: on Monday she did a church school inspection at Ellingham, on Tuesday she wrote the report, and yesterday she started off at Hapton School, moved to the Bird in Hand at Wreningham for a swift baguette and drink with me, then on to the Diocesan Office for a 2pm meeting, followed by a visit to Catfield School and collapsing on the sofa at home. I have been making vague preparations for our Welsh holiday, cooking some jacket potatoes for the Tuesday Group and buying some new sunglasses. Not simultaneously. I also seem to have fitted in arranging for a new church service leader to take over on August 1, when everyone else is away, writing a new poem and keeping various websites up to date, as well as writing a chess article for En Passant, the Norfolk chess magazine.

Today we had the first rain for some time, occurring roughly ten seconds after Dot and I started doing a bit of gardening to put something in our hungry brown bin. It didn’t last, though, and tonight it’s warm again. I’ve checked the car over and bought some new sunglasses (early birthday present). Spoke to Pieter at The Langleys today, and he’s very concerned about Andrew’s condition in hospital: apparently he’s sedated and hardly makes any response at all. He’s going to keep an eye on him, but I hope we’ll be able to call  in on our way back from Wales.

7 March 2008

A close-up of my parents’ grave, with the marble refurbished and new headstone. Hope Andrew likes it, as he’s been wanting it done for a long time. He’s due to come to Norwich next weekend, so we shall find out. I think it looks pretty good. Next week sees the anniversary of both their deaths – mum on the 11th and Dad on the 13th – his 52nd and her 14th. Sandwiched neatly in between is Phil’s birthday, something he is not going to forget.

Today the weather is bright, but still blustery. Quite a bit milder. Dot has just gone up to see the nurse for a routine check-up. Tuesday evening went well, with a rather splendid salmon dish for eight cooked entirely by Dot. Afterwards we listened to a tape by a guy who was really too laid back for that late in the evening and spoke very slowly. So although what he said was good, people started falling asleep. One of the things he said was that if God stopped loving us we would cease to exist. The same goes for everything created. I rather like that.

Wednesday was very stressful for various reasons, mainly to do with the insurance company but partly because I got the results of my blood test, which were not as good as I had hoped they would be. So it seems likely that I will have to have the mammoth 20-strike prostate biopsy, which involves general anaesthetic but is only a day procedure. Ironically I feel fine and the symptoms are much less than they were a year or two ago, but you can’t argue with PSA levels. Apparently. I spoke to the consultant’s secretary, but although she said she’d get back to me, she hasn’t. Is this a good sign or just normal incompetence?

In the evening I played chess at Diss, which involved picking up two team members – one from the other side of the city – and driving there, which took a total of about an hour each way. We lost 3-1, but I managed a draw on Board Two, though I was disappointed to miss what might have been a win earlier in the game. We had a strong guest player on Board One, but he lost to Mike Harris, as most people do.

Very poor night’s sleep on Wednesday – about four hours – and I had to get up early yesterday to give a talk on poetry at Costessey Junior School for Sheila Greenacre, who’s a friend and the assistant head. Managed to get there in good time, and the session went very well, partly because Sheila is a very good teacher, partly because they were an excellent set of children. Used quite a few of my poems, but also a couple of others – notably W B Yeats’ He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven (Yeats is a brilliant poet who never quite got the hang of titles). One of my favourites, and they seemed to appreciate it. I thought of doing it as I was lying in bed at about 5am, trying to sleep.

Afterwards we went to Dunston Hall for a bar meal and to make arrangements for our ruby wedding do in August. All went well, but by the time I got home I was pretty well shattered, and we plonked in front of the TV and did some more catching up. While Dot did some work preparing for next inspection I watched Van Helsing – a horror film that’s surprisingly good. I don’t normally watch horror films, but I’d heard it was exceptional, and it is.

In the evening I took the momentous decision to stop watching or recording Torchwood after viewing a particularly tedious episode about someone who is supposed to be walking around dead but acting normally. I love Dr Who, but this spin-off totally fails. The lead character is supposed to be charismatic, but is a smug bit of nothing with no redeeming features. No-one is interesting, the scripts are wooden, and the direction lacks any spark at all. You just hang on waiting for the one new idea to come along, and too often it doesn’t. There’s also a nihilistic background philosophy, which grates. It’s very unusual for us to stop watching a series we’ve started, but last night’s episode was just too appalling. There was no reason to go on, and if you lived in the Torchwood world, it would be hard to see why you would want to. No motivation, either for the viewer or the cast. I have stopped loving Torchwood. It has ceased to exist.

21 June 2007

A big week for Oliver, who has learned to ride his bicycle. He showed real determination and independence, and it was great to see his delight when he managed it – on a video sent by David. Today I was able to see him riding down the street “live”: David held a webcam out of the window, and Oliver went up and down two or three times, with Vicky watching from a distance. The picture here goes back a couple of weeks, when he was still getting a helping hand in the garden from Nana (but always wanting to do it on his own). This afternoon he goes with his mother to his new school for a familiarisation visit.

Dot missed this morning’s ride because she was inspecting a school at Wreningham. On Tuesday she was out all day taking Aunt E to visit Aunt J at North Walsham. Rather wish I’d gone, but I did speak to both of them: E to find out why Dot was so late back, and J later to thank her for keeping a paper for me and to mention that I’d met a friend of hers (Yvonne K) at Welborne. Dot and E had lunch at Elderton Grange, and Dot was enthusing about it.

The weather has improved a bit: it’s quite warm, but we still have occasional quite heavy showers. Other parts of the country are much worse hit: part of a rail track was washed away on the England/Wales border.

I spent most of yesterday working on a translation / interpretation of the Lord’s Prayer using the original Aramaic text and commentary on it. Aramaic is a much richer language than English, because its words (and their roots) have wider associations, usually based on verbs and vital human activities. I was trying to create a sort of prayer-poem, and I was reasonably pleased with it. It’s based on a book called Prayers of the Cosmos by Neil Douglas-Klotz. Obviously I don’t speak Aramaic, so I was heavily dependent on the translations and expansions given. Here it is (feel free to skip):

You who created all things perfectly
out of what did not exist
You who are mother and father to us
the source of light and blessing
whose breath flows through and transforms all it touches
rising and shining in space so that we can know you
through the song and vibration of the universe

we plant a garden
a holy shrine
within ourselves
separate
letting go all that would distort or inhibit
your focusing light,
your wisdom, your peace

Come like a fruitful arm
a coiled spring
to release the potential of the earth
Come and fill your children
with delight and faith to go forward
bearing the music and the spirit of your kingdom
in new directions

As stars swirl together in harmony
your heart’s desire is an irresistible force
Let this be true of our hearts too
in word and vision
without break or discord
as we sigh together with the living earth
our home

Take us forward step by step
Give us the food and understanding that we need
Breathe into us warmth, passion and creativity
Produce within us fruit and light
fulfilling what lies within the circle of our lives
an illumined measure of your abundance
nourishing each other

Through forgiveness return us
to our uncorrupted state
clear and unburdened
free of secret debt and hidden entanglements
accidental offences and frustrated hopes
Embrace us with the purity of emptiness
just as we free and forgive others
consistently
repairing relationships

Do not let us be diverted from the purpose of our lives
by surface temptations
or seduced by what is false
and illusory
Do not allow our minds to be lost in forgetfulness
like flags waving aimlessly
in the wind
but break the seal that binds us to what is immature, unripe
or inappropriate
Free us to walk your path with joy

For your field is fertile and all-sufficient
You determine all in your royal universe
Yours is the force that produces and sustains
Yours is the glorious song
light and sound in balance
astonishing fire
from one age to another
in the cycle of time
gathering to gathering
mysterious
grounded and true

25 May 2007

Well, I managed to draw with DH on Monday, though I probably should have won: wasn’t confident I could pull it off with not much time remaining.

Today the weather did an amazing thing. I went into Bally at 2pm, wondering whether I should really be wearing a jumper on top of my short-sleeved shirt. Two hours later I emerged to be very glad of it – the temperature must have plunged about ten degrees while I was in there, and there was a very chilly wind. However, we did have one visitor to the exhibition – a guy who seemed very interested and said he’d be back over the weekend.

Earlier the gas meter reader called and told me I had a flat tyre. It turned out he meant my car. It wasn’t totally flat, so I drove it round to Kwik Fit, who kept it for two hours, mended it and didn’t charge me. What nice people. Dot was out for the day at Brome (just into Suffolk) for a SIAS training session (church school inspectors) and is now out again for a girly night at Vicky’s.

On Wednesday and Thursday we had an excursion to Cambridgeshire, where Dot was inspecting a school at Oakington. We booked into a B&B in Landbeach, a few miles up the road. Very nice place with a pleasant landlady who did an excellent breakfast. After leaving Dot at the school at 12, I drove to Coventry to see Andrew. He was much better than I expected, and we went out for a walk.

The journey there had been easy, but returning was a different kettle of HGVs, most of them trying to overtake each other – which is not easy in a kettle. Coupled with two hold-ups, this made me a little late back. Dot rang me just as I was leaving the Huntingdon roundabout, and at precisely the same moment, a car two in front of me swerved violently, causing the one in between us to jam on his brakes. I just managed to do the same in time, despite the distraction.

In the evening we went to the Bridge restaurant near the River Cam at Clayhithe, and I had a pretty good steak. We walked along the towpath and saw an eight and a four (from Gaius College) practising. The eight were girls and the four were men, but in each case a (different) female coach was cycling along the towpath beside them, shouting instructions. Back at the B&B, had a bit of a rough night: found it hard to sleep.

Next day, while Dot was in school again, I did another walk down the Cam from Clayhithe, probably about four miles in all. Finished with a cider at the Bridge, then drove back to Oakington to pick Dot up. We called at Ely on the way home but failed to find anywhere to park and continued across the Fens.

Spent part of today booking up various things, including a hotel in Bantry and a slot on Eurotunnel. After I’d booked the time, they revealed that we had to be there 75 minutes earlier than that, which will make it quite tight if my hospital appointment overruns. Very helpful – not. Why can’t they warn you abou tthe waiting time before you book?

The picture is of InPrint stars Rupert Mallin and Lisa D’Onofrio moving the poetry vending machine into St Giles Church for the Open Studios “taster”. Clearly we should have gone for something smaller – a poetry vending carrier bag, for instance.

I’ve borrowed an intriguing book from TM – an interpretation of the Lord’s Prayer as it was in the original Aramaic. Fascinating language, with a much smaller vocabulary but many more meanings per word. Throws lots of new light on what Jesus actually meant, I think. Lots in common with poetry, with the ambiguities and (especially) layers of meaning.

2 May 2007

A typical Norfolk loke, this one is not far from Felmingham, on the troad to Antingham. There is a possibility that it’s the famous Bunny’s Loke, down which I cycled with Dot many years ago and which features in my story Realm, about a missing girl. However, Dot is not at all sure about this: she wasn’t with me when I took the picture.

It was a chilly day, and I was assessing a trainee in Cromer who has now completed her NVQ portfolio. My visit on Monday this week – quite a different sort of day, sunny and quite warm, but with a brisk NE wind – was my last, and I “celebrated” by finding a part of the town I didn’t know existed. Intending to have a game of putting, I discovered it was shut, so I continued up the cliff path and found a beautiful walk up to the lighthouse and the golf course. Masses of bluebells, and great views across the stormy sea and back to the town, where the church tower dwarfed everything else. I returned back through some woods. Very refreshing.

Dot was spending a day at Salhouse school delivering Philosophy for Children with Barbara – returned quite tired and went to sleep while I played in the John Swan rapidplay tournament at my chess club. I scored 3/5 and was equal fourth out of 14. Lost my first game, then won two and drew two.

Yesterday a guy came round from the estate agent’s to value the house – not that we necessarily want to move, but just to see what it’s worth in case we do. Discovered that our next door neighbour is trying to sell. The B & B market has taken a big hit with new Travelodges in Norwich. We haven’t got a value yet, but will no doubt hear from him in due course. She was given £275,000 but doesn’t believe it. Nor do I.

Last weekend was busy. On the Friday night we had two couples round for a meal – excellent time, but got to bed very late. Then on Saturday we went to South-East London to visit the Hendersons, who we had only seen briefly for a couple of years. In the evening we were their guests at a choral concert (Stravinsky and Haydn) at Blackheath Halls, which I enjoyed a lot and got a poem out of! The school chair of governors and his wife came back for coffee. He was tall, and she wasn’t.

We had a relaxing Sunday, just talking and (briefly) walking, catching up on news. The journey back through the Blackwall Tunnel was surprisingly easy, despite the ludicrous speed cameras and equally ludicrous speed limits. I can’t see any excuse for a prolonged 40mph limit on a three-lane dual carriageway with no pedestrian access. What actually happened was that I tried hard to keep to the limit, because I knew about the cameras, whereas the locals who knew where the cameras where came hurtling up behind me, overtaking on both sides, and then braking sharply for the cameras. I was the hazard, getting in everyone’s way because I was sticking to the limit.

The unrealistic limits actually lead to people driving faster where they can get away with it. A sensible 50 or even 60 would command a lot more respect and compliance, and would certainly be safer. I really don’t know why people can’t see that. Is it just dogma?

Today is pleasant – sunny and warm. We are in the middle of a spell of very nice weather which I suppose I should be making the most of instead of writing a blog. So later Dot and I will go into the city and have lunch, probably at Cafe Italia.