Another gorgeous day today and my day off, so Ed and I came up to the bungalow last night and walked to the garden centre this morning. It was so warm I had to remove my anorak and tie it round my waist. Not elegant, but funtional. Of course, If I hadn’t worn the thermal vest, the polo neck and the sweater, I might have been quite comfortable.
It’s a couple of miles to the garden centre, but the reward is that they do excellent home-made lunches in the cafe. So it’s a favourite trip for Ed and me. Anything for some decent food.
We’re quite excited, because we’ve finally made the decision for some alterations to the bungalow. Its biggest problem is that the two front bedrooms are miniscule – barely room for a double bed in one and a single in the other. So we’re hoping to get the wall between the two rooms knocked out, converting the two into one. Should be much better – if it’s possible. With the low interest rates and a smidgeon off VAT, now is the time to get going. Just hope everyone else hasn’t had the same idea, resulting in a complete dearth of builders.
We’re staying here at the bungalow until tomorrow evening, because I have to be at Norwich Cathedral in the afternoon. A new ‘Canon Librarian’ has been appointed, so all canons are expected to be there.
I’ll try not to fire off.
(To comment, click on title.)
A gorgeous Spring morning yesterday, so I trundled out the bike and cycled the three and a half miles to St Mary’s for Morning Prayers. The birds are very active now and hopefully the bees too, as long as global warming doesn’t scotch their ardour.
It was a lovely cycle ride until just after the Box Factory. This is the only factory for miles around and employs around a hundred and fifty people, making boxes. It means that our tiny, single-track country lanes often have huge lorries trying to negotiate their way along. We generally manage by politely waiting for each other in the occasional convenient passing place, or reversing to find one when necessary (I don’t do that. I’m not a reverser. I just sit there flashing my dog collar and with a beatific smile and wait for the other guy to move, then I wave and nod and smile some more. It usually works and is infinitely better than my reversing, which really would constitute a danger).
What the lorries also do is damage the road surface. Just beyond the box factory the surface is so damaged that after any degree of rain there’s a lake.
Yesterday morning no thoughts of lakes enter my head, since it hasn’t rained for some time. Or not that I can remember, anyway. But there I was on my bike, and there the road disappeared under a huge puddle. There was no means of getting off and walking round it, so I had no option but to cycle through, which I achieved by means of a good push off, then sticking my feet on the frame as close to the handlebars as I could manage. No, not THAT close. I’m not a contortionist.
Anyway, made it through (and back after Morning Prayers, but arrived home covered in muck where the water sprayed up from the puddle all over my bike and anorak). Sat on the seat in the churchyard enjoying the sunshine. Last time I sat there, which was probably last October, there were a couple of horses in the field adjoining the churchyard. Now there are sheep, about ready for lambing, by the look of them.
And lo and behold! Nigel the Curate suddenly appeared, much to my astonishment, so after prayers we made our separate ways back to the Rectory (he was in the car so I gave him the key and told him to make coffee) for a Norfolk mardle and to sort out the week.
So I’m left wondering. As I say my prayers, is ‘baa-a-a’ more affirming than ‘neigh’? Did that influence Nigel’s appearing?
(To comment, click on title)
It’s Tuesday when I usually walk to the next village for Morning Prayers, but today it was drizzling so I chickened out and took the car. Half an hour later when we’d finished, it was dry so I could easily have walked. Oh well. Another day without exercise.
I also meet with Nigel the Curate on Tuesday mornings, to go over the week and sort out duties (and idly chat – that’s the good bit) but Nigel didn’t show. Now there’s a surprise for you! I felt slightly miffed (disappointed really, I like our chats) but later he emailed me to say that he had a raging headache and had retired to bed. Very wise. And I can’t complain. I patched the phone through to him last week so that he took and dealt with all the phone calls while I was away, which was a huge help.
This afternoon I buried my erstwhile next-door neighbour’s ashes (he died last October). His widow and daughter were there and the sun came out for the brief ceremony, so hopefully they’ll now get a bit of closure. That last farewell can be quite difficult, though. It can feel very final, whatever you believe about life after death.
Then it was up to Jay’s for Home Communion (nice chocolate chip cookies. I kinda forgot it was Lent) and tonight the joys of a PCC meeting. This one is held in the church building so discomfort is added to the horrors of the actual meeting. I have suggested holding it in the comfort of someone’s lounge with armchairs and a glass of wine, but was very firmly informed that it’s illegal to hold a PCC (Parochial Church Council) in a home. To which my response, I’m afraid, was: Who cares? Let’s go for comfort. But they didn’t.
Definitely back in the swim now!
(To comment, click on title)
Phew! Isn’t it difficult to get back to work!
Yesterday, taking just a couple of services, was fine. But not so easy today. I walked to the next village carrying my laptop in order to lead the first Lent group. I’ve got five BBC radio plays about the life of Jesus, set in the first century but with a modern dialogue, speech idioms and regional accents. It’s really powerful and gives a whole new look at the events and the life of Jesus.
Two people turned up.
This may be partly my fault. I put an article in the Februrary church magazine, but forgot to ask for it to be repeated in the March issue – so it wasn’t! Nobody remembers anything for a whole month, so there we are. Felt like a bit of a waste of time, but we had a good lunch afterwards and one or two more turned up for that.
Then, when I got home, there was a phone call from an elderly parishioner asking what happened to the eleven o’clock service yesterday at the smallest parish. It had been cancelled while I was away because no-one (they said) would be there, but nobody had thought to ring this elderly man who with his wife, arrived promptly at eleven for the service.
Ah well. These things happen. Usually on the first day when I get back…
(To comment, click on title.)
Thank you all for your lovely comments and good wishes. What a week we had!
Sixteen members of the family were able to join us and we had a ball! The holiday site has facilities for swimming, table tennis, snooker, pool, gym, as well as rescue horses (three-year-old Leilah loved them), a bar (naturally) and a restaurant. And as it’s on the North Cornwall coast, we had wonderful walks and scenery. Each branch of the family had a house to itself and we met up for fun and food. The weather was great – blue skies and sunshine most of the day – and the Spring flowers are already out down in Cornwall, so there are daffodils and blossom all around. Magic! And balm to the soul.
On Ed’s birthday we had a special meal in the restaurant and one of the hosts dressed up in the most bizarre bikini imaginable to present Ed with a birthday cake complete with candles (no, not seventy-five of them but quite a few nonetheless), while the other host filled our glasses with champagne and we all sang a raucous chorus or teo of ‘Happy Birthday’.
We all had a week to remember and as Ed said, much better to meet up as a family while he and I are still the right side of the grass. Mostly we only get to meet up at funerals.
The birthday meal
Ed and me at Ed's 75th