Tag Archives: song

Vagueness about place

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Dot near Cockshoot Broad
Dot near Cockshoot Broad

After writing the last post, we were invited round to number 18 for a cup of tea, which turned out to be much more: sandwiches, cakes and so on. An afternoon tea that Phil would have been proud of, apparently. I’m sure she would. Phyll too. Had a very pleasant time talking to a number of people – especially the wife of the RC deacon who had led the service.

We were about to lose our record of going to the cinema every week this year when we decided to go for a walk at the end of Saturday afternoon – and during the walk decided to go to the cinema to see The Grand Budapest Hotel. Discovered at the end that it was from stories by Stefan Zweig, and it certainly had a mid-European feel to it – a vagueness about place but a fascination with unusual sequences of events. Ralph Fiennes was very funny, as was the bellboy, whose name escapes me. The hotel was  funny too.

On Sunday we had Communion followed by a talk by Robert Fruewirth on Lady Julian and person-centred counselling. I spent most of it trying to work out what non-person-centred counselling would be like. I do have an antipathy to counselling generally, suspecting it’s often a kind of addiction indulged in by people who should just get a grip, but are too fascinated by themselves to step outside. He didn’t say anything very interesting, which is a pity, because Julian most definitely did.

Later Dot and I went for a walk at Woodbastwick in weather rather redolent of the previous Sunday, if marginally cooler. Cockshoot Broad is as tranquil as ever, but the dyke seems to have lost its water lilies. Or maybe it’s the wrong time of year. Is there a wrong time of year for water lilies? Bright sunshine, though, and restful.

Yesterday I went to the dentist and got more or less a clean bill of health, though he identified a little hole that he would like to have a go at with a laser. In a weak moment, I said yes. It’s happening next Wednesday. Not sure it’s totally necessary, but apparently it bled a lot. Meanwhile the rest of my body is up and down: last night I felt extremely odd in the middle of the night, but much better as soon as I got out of bed. Still have a funny head  (oh yes) and a tight abdomen.

In the afternoon I went out to Mundesley for a meeting of the PHS trustees, arriving a little early. Not a bad meeting in the sun room, but with the door open. Have just finished the minutes, but it sounds very much as if we are going to get involved with another huge project. I may flee the country.

Meanwhile I have written a song called Farewell to Philomena, based loosely on our dear departed neighbour, but with some other elements of southern Ireland. Quite pleased with it, though Dot has doubts about the tune. She has a pain in her groin too (I don’t think it’s the tune), but has been spending the afternoon at Peterhouse School with her colleague Juliet (wife of Tom Corbett, ibid).

Queen Dot, approximately

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Lovely picture of Dot taken by the head teacher at Little Plumstead school. Yes, that is a pine cone on her head. Don’t ask.

That was a rough week, bringing with it the return of the dreaded upper respiratory tract infection, which caused me so much grief in my younger years. Thought it had gone for good, but it all came back again with the usual unpleasant symptoms, and I was in bed for three days with everything streaming. In essence I think it was the virus Dot had (and she had it bad enough) but it seems to debilitate me completely. I am now feeling OK, though rather tired, and a little clogged up. Dot still hasn’t got rid of her cough.

I missed leading the service and the visit to Oxnead Hall on Sunday, and a meeting at the Norfolk Record Office and the Launch of 26 in Norwich (Paston connection) on Monday, all of which was disappointing. Dot went to Oxnead, Phil took the service, and Rob went to NRO (which he would have done anyway).

While the virus was getting into me, and before it reached its three-day apex, I went with Dot to Judy’s for supper on Thursday – lovely fish pie and Eton mess, amusing cat – and paid a misguided, fleeting visit to Welborne Arts Festival on Saturday while Dot was visiting Auntie Ethel in hospital (yes, she’s still there – Ethel, not Dot). The weather was chill and coming on to rain, but I had a brief chat with organiser Mike and, unexpectedly, top artist Kate Coleman, who had a small tentful of paintings. Then I ran for the hills, getting back to the hospital just in time to give Dot a lift home.

That reminds me, I ‘ve written a new song called The Rolling Hills of Pakefield, which I like quite a lot.

I’ve spent the last couple of days completing preparations for Sunday (though I made a brief foray into town today to pay in cheques and buy paper). An unexpected complication – and I realise I’m looking at this from completely the wrong point of view – is that our friend and church member Geoff Saunders is on the critical list in Papworth following an operation to replace his aorta. Nicholas rang, concerned that my leading of the service on Sunday would be affected if he dies, and it certainly would, but I think I could cope. Hope I don’t have to, of course. (Nicholas himself is leading a Developing Consciousness course at St Luke’s and so can’t step in.)

Half a dozen of us had a prayer meeting at St Luke’s yesterday during the operation.

In search of a pirate ship

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Amy hands the crabbing net to her assistant during our visit to Sheringham earlier in the month

Four years ago I was coming out of hospital after my radical prostatectomy operation and feeling very fragile. I would like to say I’m now fighting fit, and indeed a blood test showed last week that there is no sign of the cancer re-emerging. A further test also revealed that my blood pressure has fallen dramatically to 140/75, which is not far off normal. So of course I have to keep taking the pills. But  I’m also taking antibiotics at the moment , following root canal work last Tuesday. That seemed to go OK, but the infection still appears to be there; so I thought I’d give the pills a go. Not sure if that was the right decision. What can you do?

Just back from a foray into the city to pay in some cheques and cash for the church. This morning’s rain has gone, and the temperature definitely rose between my leaving the house and getting back again. So perhaps we’re due for another dash of summer. Ran into Sophie, who is resplendently pregnant and looking wonderful, and then the Eagles, who were looking pretty good too and searching for a pirate ship birthday cake. Well, you never know when you’re going to run into one. In fact, I see form the website that M&S sell them, but as I don’t have the Eagles’ mobile number I can’t let them know.

Yesterday we went straight from church to North Walsham, taking in Sainsbury’s, the cemetery and Jessie, in that order. We ate our sandwich lunch in Jessie’s summerhouse with her tea and cakes, which was extremely pleasant, then on the way home we put some flowers on my parents’ grave at the Rosary. Earlier in the week (Monday) I had visited my aunt Josephine, who was on quite good form but looking a little frailer than before Joyce died. On the subject of death, Pete S rang me after I e-mailed him following Jan’s death, and we had a chat.

It was a busy week for Dot, who stayed overnight at The Old Bell at Grimston on Wednesday before inspecting the village school at Ashwicken. B&B highly recommended. She also had various other schools to visit during the week and has just returned from one at Bradwell. Meanwhile England are still in Euro 2012, having beaten Sweden unexpectedly 3-2 and drawing 1-1 with France. Of course when they lose to Ukraine tomorrow, they will still have to go home. In other news, wrote a new song called Far Cry. Quite pleased with it.

Changing and staying the same

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Dot
Dot sunning herself on the balcony outside our room at the Manor Hotel, Blakeney, not long ago

Spent a warm and sunny day at Mangreen Hall on Sunday. More than 30 of us from the church made it, which makes you wonder why our average congregation is about 14. We were discussing how to change our Sunday service – if at all. Being radical and notoriously keen on change, I proposed that we stay the same, with a few amendments. Others went for moving it to the evening or making the liturgy more traditional, which is a bit odd, since we have traditional liturgy already, including a bit of Celtic and a bit of translation from the Aramaic. Anyway, it will all be discussed on Thursday at the DCC. Fortunately (or unfortunately) we shall be leaving for Wales the next day for our holiday with David and the grandchildren. Will we recognise the church on our return?

In the afternoon we had a kind of service at which several of us contributed songs, poems or readings. I sang Man in the Mask, which I wrote some years ago and lost the music  to. Happily I came up with another tune a few days ago, and it seemed to work quite well. It’s a song I’ve always been pleased with, and it was nice to give it an airing. I also read one of my poems – This is not home. Ruth sang a beautiful Shaker song, and some of the children read.

Today it was very slightly cooler, though not much. Dot was doing a church school inspection at Ellingham, so I decided to embark on some multi-tasking. I started by walking to St Augustine’s to take back the music stand we’d borrowed for Sunday, together with one of the hymn books. Shortly before I arrived a bumped into Anne, who seemed a little less than her usual sunny self. I’m a little worried about her. Then when I reached the church I coincided with Vicky, who was picking up collection money to bank it and had lost her key. I was able to give her mine, as I have a spare. We walked back to Magdalen Street together; she had a bright Amy with her.

From Magdalen Street I got a bus to Costessey. At least, I meant to. In fact I got on the wrong one and almost got locked into a bus on St Stephens. I transferred quickly to Theatre Street on this being pointed out, and caught a number 16 (and not 26) to the Bowthorpe roundabout, from where I walked up to Costessey Junior School and returned a “Visitor” tag that I had walked off with some months ago. It may take me a bit of time, but I eventually get round to returning things… Took the bus back into the city, called in at WHS for a refill for my Parker ballpen, and walked home, calling in at Budgens for bread and fruit on the way. Nearly four miles altogether. Quite tired after early rising.