After the high comes the low!

It was such a great Christmas, but now Ed and I are back to Derby and Joan status. Our eldest daughter and family went home on the 27th, our son was coming and going anyway (hates sleeping in a different bed, so makes day trips), and our youngest daughter (with boyfriend who appeared on the 28th) returned to Belgium on the 29th.

Yesterday was that sort of huge sigh of relief you get when you're back to preparing only two meals instead of seven or eight, and when you get to sit in your own chair instead of slumming it on the floor playing dolls with the youngest child, and when you can fall asleep again in front of the television. Anxious, of course, until we heard that our young couple had arrived safely in Belgium, but then relaxed and enjoying the lull.

But today has been different again. I felt so low (and irritable, it has to be admitted) and although I know it's the symptoms of bereavement in miniature since all the family going their own ways is like a little death, I still feel their loss. Yes, I know - they're all within spitting distance (apart from a few miles of ocean, in Becki's case) and I'll see them all again in a couple of weeks, but even that doesn't really help. So I tell myself that I wouldn't enjoy the highs half so much without the contrast of the lows, but that doesn't help either.

There was only one thing for it. I dragged Ed out for a long walk, and that did the trick. Released endorphins or something. I came home feeling a lot brighter, despite the fog and the dismal, grey weather. He came home aching in every joint, but you can't have everything.

They're already celebrating New Year in Australia (the parts that aren't under thirty feet of water, that is - imagine starting your New year like that!) but it's only lunchtime here. Another twelve hours to wait to see the fireworks over London (on the television, of course. Ed and I will be tucked up snugly in our favourite recliners..)

Meanwhile, Becki gave me a new programme for my Wii. It has a little webcam which you fix on top of the television, then it scans your shape (horror of horrors), you input your age, height and weight, and it works out a tailored (that's what it claims, anyway) fitness programme for you. I've done it twice and it damn nearly killed me, but what the heck. I need those endorphins.

A HAPPY, HEALTHY AND PROSPEROUS NEW YEAR TO YOU ALL.

Our best Christmas present ever!

We had the first white Christmas I can remember, and for once it was suitably cold, not warm and muggy as it usually is on Christmas Day. For the first time this December, the snow is now disappearing.

On December 22nd I had an email from our youngest daughter, the one now living in Belgium. Her boyfriend, Mike, was over with her delivering Christmas presents. He was going to see her into her new apartment next day (she was due to receive the keys on December 23rd.) Then he was catching the 10.00pm ferry back to England. Could he call in on us, she asked, delivering family Christmas presents from her? It would be late - around 2.00am - so could he stay what remained of the night? By the way, he had a present for us.

Of course he could stay, I replied. Then I shot out to buy and wrap a present for him before he arrived.

Ed went to bed on the 23rd. I changed into my pyjamas but stayed up to greet Mike. He came in very quietly around 2.30am, having driven from Dover in record time despite the ice and snow.

I went out into the hallway to greet him and he gave me our Christmas present - our daughter! He'd brought her over with him to spend Christmas with us.

It was such a wonderful surprise. I couldn't believe it. Ed got up and couldn't believe it either. But it was our best Christmas present ever.

Made me realise that people - human beings - are what really matter in this world. No wonder God sent a human baby that first Christmas. What an amazing gift!

A magical evening

Ed and I went to Thursford last night, to see the Thursford Spectacular.

What, you may ask, is that?

Thursford is a tiny village in North Norfolk near the coast, where years ago, a local farmer started a collection of fairground organs and steam engines, which he housed in one of his barns. The collection grew and grew over the years, and people started to come from all over to see it. The centrepiece was an old three-manual Wurlitzer organ, and eventually someone was found to play it - and play it he did, brilliantly.

A carousel ride was added, a miniature steam train ride around the extensive grounds, children's play area, and gradually, small gift shops. It became a tourist attraction.

The Christmas show has been going for over thirty years now, featuring singing and dancing, Christmas carols, orchestras and bands and choirs. It has become gradually more sophisticated and polished, and now is a terrific spectacular, rivalling anything found in the West End.
Coachloads of people come to watch, and you have to book in January for any chance of getting tickets for the next Christmas.

The show starts in early November and continues until December 23rd, with two performances a day.

Yesterday was just amazing. The ground was still covered in snow, which added to the romance of the occasion, and as we walked from the car park we were greeted by fairly lights covering the trees and carols playing.

In the auditorium (yes, the old barn, but no longer looking like a barn - it seats 2000 people) are thousands and thousands of coloured lights, Christmas decorations, snow scenes, Santas, sleighs and so on. The show itself is absolutely magical, with first class Cambridge choirs, excellent dancers (the tap dance was memorable), a brilliant comic ventriloquist, a conjurer, orchestra, bag pipers, and loads more, including a brilliant performance on the Wurlitzer. The costumes were wonderful, all colour and glitter. A truly memorable start to Christmas. What I like best is the excellent mix of sacred and secular, bringing God right into the middle of ordinary life. The Christmas story was retold in words and music in such a sensitive and inspiring way and totally avoiding the cringe factor.

Put it in your list of "Things I must do before I die." You'll be bowled over.

Oh, and if you want a glimpse, here it is: Thursford

I'm signing off now for Christmas, so HAPPY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE.

When you are five...

Ed and I rang our granddaughter yesterday, on her fifth birthday.

"Do you know what?" she said.

"No. What?"

"I'm FIVE!"

It was a very exciting time for her as it was the last day of school before the Christmas holidays, there was snow on the ground, and she was going to the pantomime in the evening.

We drove over today, leaving behind four inches of snow here in Norwich, but finding there was almost none in Bury St. Edmunds. We unloaded the birthday presents, played with some of those she received yesterday, and had lunch. Then we came home, as this afternoon she has twelve friends to a Kid's Play party. (This is a brilliant way of saving your own home getting trashed by a dozen over-excited five-year-olds. You take them out and let them race around an indoor play area with climbing frames, slides, ball pools and so on. Then you give them tea and birthday cake and a party bag, and send them all home.)

I'm also engaged in setting up another blog, this time in an Author's Blog site - more about that when I have it properly up and running. Trouble is, all these new sites mean a steep learning curve, so I find myself struggling.

Tomorrow is our carol service at church, then it's eyes down until next Friday, Christmas Eve, when I shall be preaching at the midnight service and up again to take the nine-o'clock service next morning.

Then it's the family over for Christmas Day and Boxing Day, and after that, zzzzz (that's me asleep.)

Busy pre-Christmas time

The run-up to Christmas is always busy, but things tend to slow down unexpectedly during the final week, so I hope next week will be quieter!

Yesterday I visited the local Day Centre, where the old folk go for the day, starting with coffee, taking in lunch, and finishing with tea. There are plenty of them, and they seem to have a good time. The guys were playing cards, while the gals played Scrabble and some number game similar to Scrabble, that I'd never seen before. After lunch there's some sort of entertainment - singing or dancing or whatever. Next week is their Christmas dinner, followed by the rector in drag playing the pantomime dame. Good fun will be had by all.

Today Ed and I went back to the old parish, to share in Jay's home communion service. Jay is a remarkable lady, now in her late eighties. She has a Cambridge degree (one of the early women to gain a degree from Cambridge), has had a professional life, was a County Councillor and intrepid supporter of the Lib Dems, and a central member of the local church, campaigning on behalf of women priests and with a real heart for mission.

Five years ago come January, Jay suffered a massive stroke, and has neither spoken nor stood up from that day to this. Twice a month, a few church folk gather in her room for a short communion service, so today Ed and I joined them again for her Christmas communion. Although she can't speak, Jay made it clear she was delighted to see us.

Tomorrow I'm taking a funeral at the local crematorium, followed by a midday carol service in a big Norfolk city centre church, and another carol service in the evening at a tiny village church.

Thursday is a golf tournament (weather permitting - snow is threatened again), men and women together and all wearing silly hats!

Then it's on to the weekend and our granddaughter's fifth birthday...

Christmas Tree festival

Ed and I had a great time at the Christmas Tree festival at Dickleburgh Church. If you're anywhere near Norfolk (UK), don't miss it! The Christmas Tree festival, that is. Not Norfolk. You can't miss that - it's the flat bit on the eastern bump of England.

It was so good to see old friends again. I hadn't realised quite how much I miss them, and they made us so welcome. We had lunch in the church rooms and visited a couple of elderly parishioners while we were in the area. That was good too. They were so pleased to see us.

The Christmas trees were as good as ever; some really innovative trees and almost all with little hand-made figurines to decorate the trees, as well as all the coloured lights. The "angel table" - a snow scene with all sorts, sizes and shapes of angels, and offering prayer cards for anyone who wants one - was beautiful, and very spiritual, as was the tree of remembrance, where people could light a candle in memory of a loved one and add a card with their loved one's name, to the tree.

There were more children's trees this year - play schools, primary schools, Brownies, Scouts, Rainbows, children with disabilities - all had made the decorations for their tree.

In the roof of the church was the night sky at the time of Jesus, with three planets in conjunction, forming the Star of Bethlehem, and lights picking out the constellations, all set in a black background, and very effective.

The Jesse tree, telling the Bible story from Genesis to Revelation in figures and animals winding on a spiral from the bottom to the top of the tree, had a central position and was raising money for a local charity - doing well, too.

Father Christmas was much in evidence as the local primary school had visited that morning, looked at the trees, sung carols, heard the Christmas Bible stories, and received sweets from Father Christmas. Some very happy children!

We'd liked to have stayed longer, but may return this weekend if our granddaughter (aged five in a fortnight) is able to come over. She'll love it - and it's already started our Christmas.

Finished the Christmas cards

I spent yesterday afternoon (ALL afternoon!) writing the Christmas cards. I always intend to write individual Christmas letters, but have never yet managed to get round to it. Not keen on the round robin types of letters, mostly because I think they come across as somewhat impersonal, and I can never remember everyone's children, let alone their grandchildren! Writing the Christmas cards is something of a marathon effort, but I do like to receive them so perhaps other people feel the same and like to receive ours.

Had a choir rehearsal last night in Norwich. I'm singing in the carol concert at St. Peter Mancroft, the big city centre church, next week, at Wednesday lunchtime. It usually attracts a big crowd of shoppers and workers, and choir is made up of people from all around. We just get together for this one occasion. Then in the evening our own, local choir is singing at a local church carol service, so at the moment there are a lot of rehearsals.

This morning gave a talk on writing books, to a small group gathered in a friend's house. It was a good occasion, especially as I sold one of my "Children's Stories" and several "Babes and Sucklings".

Tomorrow Ed and I are off to the Christmas Tree Festival at Dickleburgh (my old parish), which always starts our Christmas season well. I'm sure we will meet a lot of old friends, which will be great.

Then there'll be no more excuses. We'll just have to get down to putting up the Christmas tree and decorating the house...

Still in the grip of the big freeze!

I've been into Norwich three times this week, on the bus. Hopefully the Christmas shopping is now finished - until I suddenly remember someone/something I hadn't thought of.

Today I met up with a friend and we visited the Faith Exhibition at the Castle Museum. Norwich Castle has been standing as long as the Cathedral - over 900 years - and this was an exhibition of the different faiths through the ages. We're quite multi-cultural, and it seems we always have been, with many faiths represented. It was really interesting to see some of the art work and artefacts of different religions from ancient times until the present day.

Then we had lunch in the restaurant, and I came home on the bus while my friend stayed in Norwich for some Christmas shopping.

I don't think we've been hit as badly as the rest of the country (or the rest of Norfolk, come to that) but snow is still lying around everywhere, many of the road surfaces and most of the pavements are treacherous, and it's still bitterly cold.

Roll on Christmas - we're bound to have a thaw and it will be muggy and mild instead of crisp and white!

Braved the snow

I braved the snow yesterday to drive into Norwich to meet up with a friend who also happens to be a police sergeant. Trouble was, heaving masses of Christmas shoppers had also braved the snow, and what with the local derby - the Norwich/Ipswich football match, held at Norwich and attracting the biggest crowd for years - traffic was nearly at a standstill in parts.

Still, I made it, and had a very good meeting, researching for my next novel, which will be a murder/mystery. All the staff at Norwich police station were really helpful, and I had a look at the different areas of the station to try and get an authentic background.

The journey home was fine, but it snowed again overnight (temperatures in Wales down to minus seventeen; we were a mere minus five) and today the roads are pretty lethal.

This early snow is unprecedented. We sometimes get a flurry in November, but I can't remember snow that settles, not before January/February. Some parts of the country are knee-deep. We just have a few centimetres so far, but more promised (threatened?) overnight.

Of course, this being the UK, we're never quite prepared for snow. The gritting lorries have been out, but we don't have winter tyres or chains or anything like that. So it looks like a week indoors, snuggled up out of the cold, with my feet up.

It's a hard life.

Braved the snow

I braved the snow yesterday to drive into Norwich to meet up with a friend who also happens to be a police sergeant. Trouble was, heaving masses of Christmas shoppers had also braved the snow, and what with the local derby - the Norwich/Ipswich football match, held at Norwich and attracting the biggest crowd for years - traffic was nearly at a standstill in parts.

Still, I made it, and had a very good meeting, researching for my next novel, which will be a murder/mystery. All the staff at Norwich police station were really helpful, and I had a look at the different areas of the station to try and get an authentic background.

The journey home was fine, but it snowed again overnight (temperatures in Wales down to minus seventeen; we were a mere minus five) and today the roads are pretty lethal.

This early snow is unprecedented. We sometimes get a flurry in November, but I can't remember snow that settles, not before January/February. Some parts of the country are knee-deep. We just have a few centimetres so far, but more promised (threatened?) overnight.

Of course, this being the UK, we're never quite prepared for snow. The gritting lorries have been out, but we don't have winter tyres or chains or anything like that. So it looks like a week indoors, snuggled up out of the cold, with my feet up.

It's a hard life.

Rachel's funeral

Took Rachel's funeral this afternoon. The church was packed, and little Sam, her year-old son, came too. We had a few murmurs of "Dad, dad" during the service, but thankfully, no "mum, mum." That would have torn us all into pieces.

There were no hymns, The family chose to have modern songs from a CD instead, and they went down well, but were somewhat tear-jerking. Not that anyone needed any nudges in that direction.

Rachel's photo was at the front of church, next to her coffin. She was a blond beauty and one of the most courageous people I have ever met.

Her best friend paid a moving tribute (through tears) and her father-in-law read a poem. It all went well and hopefully people found the service comforting.

I went on to the crematorium with the immediate family, who made a sad little group.

Rachel died at 33, the same age as Jesus, but I guess Christmas has already been cancelled for Rachel's family.

Managed it!

Yes, I've done it! Sorted out at least one small thing on Facebook.

I have my own page (which is different to the usual profile page - yes, I know. it's utterly confusing) to promote my books, but Facebook give you a great long URL with long numbers at the end, which nobody can remember. But if you get 25 "fans", you are entitled to a short and memorable URL, which you choose yourself.

Well, by pleading with all my Facebook friends, I managed to drum up the fans to 30 - enough to get my brand new URL. Only trouble was, I couldn't remember then how to do it. Oh for a brain cell or two.

Anyway, sussed it eventually and here you are:

www.facebook.com/authorJaniceScott

Do take a look - and become my friend, and even a fan!

At the Cathedral

Ed and I went to Norwich Cathedral on Tuesday evening, to see Bishop Hans Stiglund (I think that's his name) installed as an ecumenical honorary canon of the cathedral.

Bishop Hans is the Lutheran bishop of Lulea in Northern Sweden. His diocese extends right up into the Arctic Circle. I met him some years ago, when our diocese first had informal links with Lulea. I was fortunate enough to be chosen as one of a small party of priests from Norwich diocese to visit Lulea. I stayed with Soren Ollson and his family; he's a Lutheran priest in the diocese. Had a great time.

I particularly remember his twelve-year-old daughter kicking up one day about going to school. She didn't want to go because they had skiing lessons that day! I thought how any English child would give their eye teeth to have skiing lessons at school.

Later, a party from Soren's parish came to our deanery for a week, then a party from our deanery went to Sweden in the March, when it was still six foot of snow and twelve degrees below zero. Didn't feel cold, though, because there was no wind.

I also remember the dining room chairs on runners. The old people sat on them and were pushed to church over the snow. We borrowed one of these chairs and had a terrific time sliding down the hill on it. They must have thought we were all mad.

The other marvellous sight was a huge herd of reindeer in the forest, all with colourful bells and collars, and herded by Finnish gypsies. Brilliant - and I've got a great movie of it.

Our diocesan link with Lulea was made official in the cathedral on Tuesday on the same occasion as Bishop Hans being made canon, so maybe there'll be more visits in the snow. I'm definitely up for it!

Battling with Facebook

No, not battling against Facebook, but trying to suss out just how I'm supposed to update and add to my Facebook page. Never mind, I sent off a quick email to youngest daughter who is guiding me through this minefield, accompanied by sighs and "Oh mother!" comments.

Visited Rachel's gathered family yesterday, to sort out just what they wanted for her funeral. It was a very sad time, but they do have lovely memories of a lovely and lively person. Ages yet to the funeral, but that's not altogether a bad thing. It does allow people to begin to get used to the idea that their loved one really has died.

Went down to my previous parish in the evening. The old (mostly Victorian) primary school which was closed in 1988 and growing more derelict by the minute, has been completely transformed into a beautiful village centre, complete with IT suite, café, meeting rooms and small hall. Take a look here: Pennoyer's Centre

I was quite envious. I'd have liked to have been still living there and able to use it. But hey! I've been invited to the official opening on November 26th, so that will be good.

Sad news

You'll recall me telling you about Steve and Rachel, who were married about a month ago. They had planned to have the wedding and little Sam's baptism all on the same occasion, but Rachel was too ill for that, so we had the wedding one day and the baptism the next. Rachel came in a wheelchair, but looked wonderful in her wedding dress, and they were both such happy - although bitter-sweet - occasions.

The sad news is that Rachel died in the early hours of Tuesday morning, aged thirty-three. Little Sam is just a year old.

The funeral won't be until 25th November, because Rachel has chosen to be cremated and the crematorium is always busy. We're having the service in church, then it's a half hour drive to the crematorium, but that may be just me, or some of the family may wish to come.

Can I ask your thoughts and prayers, please, for Steve and Sam, and Steve and Rachel's families?

Wet and wild...

From the sublime to the ridiculous. Cornwall last week was warm(ish) and sunny(ish) - nice enough to be out of doors, anyway. Here is a picture from The Lizard, the most southerly point in England:

By contrast, the last couple of days have been wet, wild and windy. Played golf yesterday (lost abysmally) but got home before the rain started - just. Ed played golf today, got wet, lost abysmally, came home early. Still, at least we both managed to get out.

Finished the famous tea cosy, and here it is, complete with drunken pompom (couldn't get it to sew on very convincingly!)

Back from Cornwall

We're back from our week in Cornwall, where, surprise, surprise, the weather was warm and sunny - on the whole. On the day we visited the seal sanctuary, we had lunch al fresco and one guy was sat there in short sleeves. We all had thick sweaters, but nonetheless, we were outside.

The seal sanctuary was brilliant. We arrived at feeding time for the otters, so were there for a talk on them and watching them being fed. Also saw feeding time in the convalescent pool - seals are rescued from all round the coast, usually start in the seal hospital, then are gradually transferred through gentle stages until they are well enough for the convalescent pool. After that it's back to the sea. Bought our little granddaughter a cute furry handbag in the shape of a baby seal.

We had a great time with our friends, and are going to Portugal with them next March. Lots of fun and laughter, good food and good wine, and I'm trying not to stand on the scales just yet.

A week away

Ed and I are off tomorrow for a week in Cornwall. We're stopping overnight in a travel lodge in Chippenham so that we can spend the evening with youngest daughter and her boyfriend.

On Monday we reach Cornwall, and will be joined by friends of ours, so we should have a great week with lots of laughter.

Hoping to swim every day (no, not in the sea, there's an indoor swimming pool on site) and get in some nice walks. Taking the camera, so will entertain you with some photos on our return.

Have a great Sunday, and see you in about a week.

Knitting!

I hopped on the bus to Norwich today, to buy some knitting wool. Youngest daughter (remember? She's the one moving to Belgium in December) being a true Brit, insists on taking a teapot with her. As you know, we Brits can't exist without our tea. And it has to be made properly - in a pot. None of your teabags dropped in a mug, for us.

Youngest daughter, being slightly crazy in the family mould, wants a tea cosy. Now I haven't used a tea cosy since the days when we started using mugs instead of cups. With a mug, you get all your tea in one go, so no need to keep the pot warm for a second dose. I explained this carefully to youngest daughter, but it made no difference. She wants one. So I thought I'd knit one.

I haven't knitted anything since the kids were small, but on the grounds that it might be like cycling - you never forget how to do it - thought I'd have a bash, hence today's trip into Norwich. I found a free pattern on the internet. All I needed then was the wool and the needles.

You wouldn't believe how difficult it is to buy wool in Norwich, these days. Gone are the days when every little parade of shops had its wool shop, and this despite the fact that Norwich was built on the wool trade.

In the end, I asked in The Tea Junction, where I buy my coffee (cinnamon and cappuccino - to die for), and they told me it was either the market, or John Lewis. Naturally I went to the market, it being cheaper.

I chose shocking pink and purple. Yes, I know, but I wanted the finished article to be as zany as she is. After all, if you're going to use a tea cosy, you might as well get it noticed!

The start of half-term

It's been a cold, miserable, grey Saturday, punctuated by long showers of pouring rain, which is, of course, inevitable when the schools break up for half-term.

Friends of ours are taking their grandson to Legoland for the week, so I hope for their sakes that the weather improves. I can't think of anything much worse than dragging a freezing cold, soaking wet small boy around Legoland for hours.

Ed and my regime of long(ish) walks has gone by the board. We're snuggled up under slankets (the gorgeous, long, blanket-like fleeces which cover you from top to toe) with our feet up and the aroma of baked potatoes emanating form the kitchen.

It being half-term, I'm working tomorrow, taking three services while the rector has a much needed holiday. However, since the first service is at 8.00am, I do hope it's a little warmer and drier tomorrow.

Have a good weekend wherever you are and whatever the weather.

The night of a thousand cuts

Just been watching the news on television. The chancellor of the exchequer has introduced swingeing cuts in all public sector services, to reduce the national debt.

The problem is, as always, it's the poorest who are hurt most. Despite the fact that we're constantly told, "We're all in it together" (what a lot of patronising rubbish that is - no politician or banker will be wondering where the next penny is coming from, or be struggling to feed the kids) it's the social security budget which is really suffering. Benefits are being cut so that people who are too disabled or ill to work will struggle. Those who can't afford housing will struggle. Thousands of public sector workers will lose their jobs - and how will they find other jobs in the present climate?

There are already strikes and blockades in France. I can't see it will be too long before they're repeated here. And all because greedy people in high positions and who were already extremely high earners, took more than their share.

Life is unfair - or is it people who are unfair?

How time flies!

I can hardly believe a week has passed since I last blogged. Not because anything special has happened, but perhaps because it's been a lovely, normal week; walking, golf, a little writing, lunch with a friend, a new skirt/culottes for choir - must tell you about that.

We have to wear long black skirts for choir concerts (there was one last night. Concert, that is, not skirt. There were several of them.) I bought mine off Ebay when I joined the choir last year, but as I've lost a little weight since then (did I slip that in subtly?) it no longer fits.

I was in Norwich on Wednesday for a hairdo, and had half an hour to while away, since the council in their wisdom have changed all the bus times. So I wandered in and out of shops - as you do - and meandered into Dorothy Perkins just for something to do. But there on the rail were long black culottes, all floaty and silky and with very tiny pleats. Just in, according to the assistant, and perfect for choir instead of the long skirt, so naturally I had to buy a pair.

Went down well with the other ladies at the concert. There might be a mass charge towards Dorothy Perkins. Perhaps I should have shares.

A busy week

The paper proof of my new novel arrived on my doormat this week, so I've had a busy (and tedious) time, reading all through it yet again and correcting any typos. I've already read through it about fifty times to correct mistakes, including reading from the back forwards, but still I find more. Still, the corrected copy has now gone back to the publishers, so hopefully the novel will be out before Christmas.

Youngest daughter arrived on Thursday for the weekend. It's son's birthday soon, and the two of them were going to the Theatre Royal in Norwich to see Spamalot.

Yesterday, eldest daughter and family came over as well and we all went out to a local pub/restaurant for lunch. Lovely to be all together - and may be the last time for a while as from the beginning of December, youngest daughter is off to Belgium for the next three years.

Oh well. Should make for some good holidays.

Harvest Festival

I took the Harvest Festival service at North Walsham Methodist Church today. North Walsham is a small market town in North Norfolk, about twenty miles from where we live now, but that's not all.

It's the church my parents attended for many years until they died, and where my father was organist, again, until he died. And it's the church where Ed and I were married forty years ago. So it's a very familiar church to us, and we still know some of the people who attend.

One couple who now live in North Walsham and are regular attenders, were friends of ours when we first married all those years ago. At that time, we both lived in a village in Hertfordshire, within spitting distance of London. Then we moved to Norfolk in 1973 and our friends retired up here around seven years ago.

After the service, they took us back for lunch, so we had a great few hours catching up on old times.

I had no idea it would be such an enjoyable day, steeped in nostalgia and reminiscing over times past. Shows our age, but who cares? Life is so good!

Good news

I visited Steve and Rachel this morning, to find out how the very brief honeymoon had gone and how Rachel was feeling. Now that the wedding and baptism are over, I rather expected some fallout in her physical condition, but not a bit of it.

They had a wonderful two days at the hotel, who had upgraded them to an executive suite, presented them with a bottle of champagne, and produced room service for all their meals.

Rachel was able to eat a full meal for the first time in over a week. She had been existing on half a slice of dry toast, which was all she could manage without throwing up, but the doctor has altered her steroids and she hasn't been sick since her wedding day. The headaches are not quite so bad either, so at the moment, things are looking better.

Yesterday was little Sam's first birthday, and they managed a party for him with the grandparents. He's nearly walking, pulling himself up on the furniture and walking round it.

The Willow Foundation, which provides relief for terminally ill 18-40 year olds, has stumped up for a family holiday for Steve, Rachel, Sam and the grandparents, so Rachel's next goal is the last week in October, when they'll go to the coast locally for a week spent in three static caravans.

They're making such good memories, and Rachel is writing to all of her friends before she dies.

Isn't that great?

A great weekend

Ed and I had a great weekend, which was lovely after such an emotionally demanding week.

On Saturday we went to the golden wedding of friends of ours. They were married very young, but against the forebodings of both sets of parents, the marriage worked. They produced four sons, all now grown up and three with children of their own.

Our friends have been farmers all their lives, and now live in a beautiful farmhouse on several acres of land, with the most gorgeous garden leading to a pond which is stocked with fish (except when the heron has visited!) But on Saturday it was pouring with rain all day and blowing a gale, so we were pleased to get into the marquee erected for the occasion.

There were well over a hundred guests, and we were on a table with old friends that we hadn't seen for twenty five years. It was great - good food, good company, and great fun.

Yesterday we went back to the old parish for lunch with our previous next-door neighbour. She had invited another couple as well, and it was so good - again - to meet up with old friends. On the way home we called in on our son who lives in the same village, and had a pleasant half hour and a cup of tea with him.

So a relaxing and very enjoyable weekend for us. Hope you all had a good weekend, too.

Sam's baptism

Yesterday was little Sam's baptism.

What I hadn't quite appreciated, was that Rachel was going to make the entrance she would have made if it had been her wedding as planned. My first hint of this came when Steve arrived early, dressed in his wedding gear complete with smart, light green cravat.

(Actually, I made a big mistake prior to that. When I arrived, and hour before the service was due to start, Steve was already there with some friends, standing in the porch.

"Hello," I said. "How are things? Everything OK?"

He looked at me as if I was slightly barmy, and said, "Er, I'm Adam, Steve's identical twin brother."

Until then, I didn't know he had a twin....)

Rachel was so late arriving that I began to get seriously worried. Was she too ill to come? Fortunately, her new father-in-law came out to see what was going on, and had his mobile phone with him. He rang Rachel, who said, yes, they were in the car, en route.

It was so difficult for her to get out of the car and into the wheelchair, but she managed. She was wearing her gorgeous white wedding dress, with a white bandanna covering her lack of hair, her face was made up and her nails had been done. She was beautiful. Her father pushed her down the aisle accompanied by her bridesmaid and page boy, and when she reached the front I started the service by blessing yesterday's wedding.

Then we launched into the baptism, which went well.

I used bubbles for the prayers, explaining that bubbles are beautiful but ephemeral. They burst, but we hold onto their beauty. And each bubble contains a rainbow, the sign God put in the sky after Noah's flood, to tell us that God is with us. Then people make their own prayers (I suggest headings) and attach them to the bubbles.

After the service there were lots of photos in church - making memories for little Sam - and eventually I slipped away and left them to it.

I do hope they have a really good weekend. They're going to a local hotel for a meal, then Steve and Rachel are staying there for a day or two, for their honeymoon.

May this courageous and wonderful couple enjoy every minute of it.

A bitter-sweet occasion

Remember me telling you about Steve and Rachel? They're the young couple who rang me last month to book a wedding and baptism combined, at very short notice because Rachel is terminally ill.

The service is scheduled for tomorrow, so I went to see the young couple again this week, just to go over the final details. Rachel is now feeling very ill and suffering from severe headaches and sickness, but we sorted out the service just as they wanted it.

This morning I had an early - and urgent - phone call from Steve. Rachel was feeling so unwell that he asked if we could we bring the wedding forward to today, with just his parents and her parents, instead of tomorrow with all the guests.

"Yes," I said, "I'll come to your house this morning and conduct the ceremony."

That's when the problems started. Paul (the rector) rang the archdeacon to see whether that was OK. The archdeacon told him to ring the legal eagle, who said no, it wasn't OK at all. To do that, I would need to get a special licence. So Paul rang the registrar, only to find that there was an answer phone message saying the registrar was unavailable, but no means of leaving your own message or getting in touch with him.

In the end, Steve and Rachel came to the church with little Sam and both sets of parents. We had a quiet, but intensely moving service, especially the bit where they promise to love each other "In sickness and in health" and "'Til death do us part." That was very hard to say, and hear, and very emotional. We all had tears at that point. Rachel - who is amazing - helped us all through it by reading the words without faltering, and Steve - who is equally amazing - managed to say the words with a smile of love on his face.

The the couple said their own special words to each other, spoken from the bottom of their hearts. They said how they had fallen in love at first sight and would love each other for ever. And Rachel added her thanks, for all that Steve does for her.

A fantastic couple, full of courage and overflowing with love.

Life can be so cruel, but tomorrow is the baptism with thirty or so guests,so hopefully a joyful occasion.

We need your prayers, please.

Blackberrying

Ed and I have been blackberrying. It has a nice, English romantic feel to it, of halcyon days in the Autumn sunlight retrieving the fruits of the hedgerows.

Well, we picked half a container (a small container) and stewed them with apples for apple and blackberry crumble. It was good.

There's probably another week or so of blackberries before they finally turn up their toes for the winter. The trick is to find some secluded hedgerow which hasn't already been denuded by hordes of pensioners.

We're trying to keep up the walking we started in Ireland, so this morning drove to Ranworth Broad (the Norfolk Broads are like lakes, full of wild life) which is only about twenty minutes away by car. We walked for around four miles (which was plenty!) but didn't see much in the way of natural woodland species other than some tiny, delicate wild orchids on the nature reserve, and one dead vole.

Still, the weather was good and we're left feeling suitably smug and self-satisfied by our efforts at exercise.

Can't be bad.

A blessing - in more ways than one

Just back from officiating at a blessing. This usually happens when there's been a divorce in the background, but not in this case.

The bride and groom were married in Japan, because the bride is Japanese. Today they had a ceremony here in Norfolk, for all their English family and friends.

It was such a happy occasion. The bride's mother and father were over from Japan, and the young couple had produced a beautiful wedding booklet with the whole of the service written out in it, and decorated in Japanese style with a single branch of blossom.

The bride looked stunning in the most gorgeous white dress with an incredibly long train, and after the ceremony they were all off to the reception in a marquee in the groom's parents' garden.

I like weddings. And blessings.

The Dunbrody famine ship

Today's wall-to-wall rain is reminiscent of last week in Ireland. We had one day of non-stop torrential rain, so found our way to visit the Dunbrody, a replica of one of the so-called "famine ships" that took Irish emigrants to America. In the nineteenth century, the potato harvest failed in Ireland (it got blight, thought to have been imported with infected guano from South America, which was used to fertilise the land).

By the time these poverty-stricken people had paid their landlords, there was no food left for themselves and their families, so many emigrated to the brave new world. They went in ships like this:

One of these ships would carry more than 250 passengers. The majority travelled in steerage class.

Both upper and lower "bunks" (above) housed complete families. The lower area housed a mother and her five children! Conditions were appalling, with very little food, unbelievable lack of hygiene and no space to exercise. They were only allowed on deck for an hour a day, and during that time had to cook a meal over a coal brazier, do any washing, and empty the slops bucket. Needless to say, many died.

JFK's great-grandfather came from New Ross, where the Dunbrody is berthed, and emigrated to America on a ship just like the Dunbrody. Perhaps it's not surprising that he produced such a famous descendant. Anyone who could survive a voyage like that must have produced very hardy stock indeed.

Ireland 2010

We arrived home last night from our week in South East Ireland, stopping off for a meal with friends en route.

We stayed here at Knocktopher Abbey, near Kilkenny, in beautiful countryside.

One day we followed a looped trail, a 6km walk uphill and down dale, and just as we set off, this little fellow squeezed

under her gate and joined us. ,

I thought she'd go back home when we turned the first corner, but no, she accompanied us the whole way round, pausing to to gaze back and check whether we were following. it was a bit tricky when we came upon the gate which said, "Strictly no dogs", but she took no notice so neither did we. Also a hairy moment when she slid under a wire fence into a field of sheep, but there she sat for a minute or two, gazing bat them, but not barking or chasing or worrying them at all.

At the top of the climb we came upon these standing stones. Significance unknown - probably an early religious site of some sort.

When we finished the walk, the little dog calmly scampered home!

Isn't it great when you have an unknown and unexpected companion? I quite fell in love with her!

Visiting Ireland

Ed and I have to be up tomorrow at what my youngest daughter calls "silly o'clock". A friend is picking us up at 6.30am and driving us to Luton airport - around two hours away - ready for our visit to Ireland. I've only been once before, for a long weekend, but this time we're going for a week.

We're flying to Waterford airport, picking up a hire car and driving to Knocktopher, about 45 minutes away. The weather forecast for next week is pretty appalling, but who cares? We'll don our wet gear and have fun.

I'm taking a little netbook computer with me, but whether I'll find any wi-fi broadband remains to be seen. Probably not.

So I'm signing off for a week - see you again sometime around Monday week.

Have a great weekend, and I do hope none of you are affected by the hurricane.

The final bank holiday

I was reminded that this is the final bank holiday of the summer by a phone call from Al this afternoon. Funny how you forget all about important events like bank holidays once you're retired. He had taken a couple of days off to make this a long weekend, and is coming up for supper tomorrow.

Tomorrow is Fi's birthday, but she and the family are in Aviemore in Scotland on a Harley rally and not due back until Tuesday or Wednesday, so we won't be celebrating together.

Becki, our youngest daughter, rang yesterday. She has a big birthday in November, so was eager to get the whole extended family together (again!) for a celebration. I rang Seasons, our holiday people, and have managed to get three lodges in Clowance (Cornwall) for a weekend in January, which was the best I could do. Becki is now busily ringing round the rest of the family to see who can make it. If everybody turns up, there'll be 21 of us, so quite a party.

Enjoy your bank holiday, wherever you might be.

Well received

Steve and Rachel managed to get to church on Sunday, to hear their banns called for the first time (they have to be called on three successive Sundays, to leave room for anyone who has cause, to object to the wedding. So far in my experience, this has never happened, thank goodness!)

I asked them if they would like to come out the front and be introduced the the congregation, so Steve pushed Rachel in her wheelchair. I explained that Rachel is seriously ill, and asked for regular prayer from the congregation.

There were a few tears, as they all saw this brave young couple, smiling and courageous as they face a very uncertain future.

I prayed for healing for Rachel, so who knows? We wait to see.

Summer sadness

I visited a lovely young couple yesterday. They have a ten-month old son, and want a baptism and wedding all in the same service. Great - I love those services; they're such happy occasions.

But on this one there's a a deep underlying sadness, for last week, the young mother was told she had between three and six months to live. Hence a need for speed in organising the service.

I hope it can be a really happy occasion for them. They are so much in love and it's almost impossible to imagine how devastated they, and the extended family of grandparents and siblings, must feel. The young mum has already asked me to conduct her funeral service, and will be planning it just as soon as the wedding is over.

Could you hold Steve and Rachel in your prayers? They need all the help, strength and endurance they can get.

A busy week

It's been a busy week in the Scott household, coming down to earth in the aftermath of last week's celebration.

My publisher sent the first galley proofs of my new novel, so I had to read every word again in order to correct any mistakes. It's a real chore and I wish I could afford to lob it off onto someone else. But I can't. Have now gone through the second galley proofs as well, which is all I'm allowed. Have to start paying (through the nose, actually) for any corrections after that. Still, it means the final stage is nearer. When I've signed off on the galley proofs, the next stage is the front cover, which fortunately the publishers get designed for me. I'm no artist.

Then the rector here has gone on holiday, so I had three services to take last Sunday (and next), a midweek communion tomorrow, a wedding rehearsal on Thursday and the wedding on Friday.

Feeling less like retirement every moment, but our son is coming over tomorrow evening and we're going out for a meal, as it's my birthday. Eldest daughter is in Finland running another course (husband and small daughter go with her, so they combine it into a holiday - very nice) and youngest daughter can't make it up here again having been here so recently.

So life is busy - but good!

A fantastic day

When Ed and I drew back the blinds yesterday morning, there on our lawn facing the house was a garden bench festooned with red balloons with "Congratulations - 40th anniversary" on them. It was a gift from the neighbours, and the start of an amazing day.

On the doorstep we found a red rose - "Ruby Anniversary" - in a pot, and later, when we returned from church, there was another red rose, "Ruby Ruby". And this despite the fact that we said "Strictly no gifts!"

We arrived at the hotel for lunch and all 65 guests turned up. Our kids had taken over the table decorations, and had a vase of red roses on each of the eight tables, plus red glass hearts and rose petals. There was a party popper for everyone, a disposable camera on each table to take photos, and a little pot of bubble mixture in the shape of a church. All loved by kids old and young!

They'd also blown up a series of photos from the past - you know, those really embarrassing ones you'd rather forget - and turned them into a caption game, inviting each table to write their own caption. The results were hilarious.

Then they'd put together a slide show of our old photos. Someone had transferred them onto a CD Rom, which played on a screen throughout the lunch, and which we now have.

It was a great meal and the kids had also provided a fabulous cake with red roses in sugar icing and congratulations - 40th anniversary in red icing on the white.

We'd put out a box for donations to Macmillans Cancer Care for anyone who wished to give, and collected £300 - amazing!

Just a brilliant day. So much fun and laughter, and everyone having a really good time.

Now we're back to Darby and Joan, and having difficulty settling back into normal life again.

Roll on the golden anniversary - I really want to do the same again!

The weekend starts early

The weekend has started early for Ed and me, as youngest daughter arrived home this afternoon. Yes, the clans are gathering for the great Ruby wedding celebration on Sunday.

We haven't seen youngest daughter since Easter, so are thrilled that she has a few days with us (but not looking forward to October time, when she leaves for four years in Belgium.) We get to meet the latest boyfriend on Saturday night. Can't be worse than any of the previous ones, and in view of her penchant for collecting various sad, abandoned persons, I've threatened to meet him at the door and ask, "Are you a waif or a stray?"

She's already had me on the Wii Fit (first time for 276 days, so the thing told me) and is taking me swimming tomorrow, so I'll either be fit or fit for nothing by Sunday.

Have a good weekend, everyone, and I'll report back next week.

Church sitting

Ed and I were church sitting yesterday. This week is Open Churches Week in Norwich diocese, when almost all Anglican churches are open for visitors to wander in when they wish. Many churches organise special events to attract the masses.

Our church has a display of Victorian (and older) christening gowns. They're all in glass cases, but the church needs to be manned to welcome visitors, provide them with tea or coffee and chat.

I was at a meeting in Norwich all morning (I'm still doing a mentoring job for the diocese) so Ed started off at one o'clock, I caught the bus back from Norwich and walked the mile from the bus stop to the church, and Ed drove home in the car leaving me to church sit.

All went well until I felt a prick under my third toe. Thinking I'd inadvertently picked up a burr from the flower arrangement, I bent down to scoop it out of my sandal, only to find that I'd been stung by a wasp which had crawled into my sandal without me noticing.

Since I've been allergic to wasp stings in the past, I felt slightly anxious. So I rang Ed, who raced up with the first aid treatment - a device to remove any sting left in, and Piriton tablets.

Then he stayed with me for the rest of the afternoon, 'cos it was quite painful and I didn't fancy walking home on it.

Anyway, all's more or less well today bar a little discomfort and quite a lot of itching, so I think I'll live. And just as a post-script, we had no visitors at all to the little church!

A horrible event

We heard some really awful news this week.

An acquaintance of ours from the golf club had been playing golf on Sunday. When he got home he couldn't find his wife in the house, so strolled out to the barn to see if she was doing something in there. To his horror, he found her hanging from a beam, with the two dogs sitting beneath her feet.

I asked whether she had suffered from depression, but apparently not. At least, not that anyone knew. She had been at a party the previous night, along with a number of other golf club people, and had chatted and laughed quite normally, so they thought.

What's almost worse (could anything be worse?) is that she didn't leave a note, so there's no indication of her state of mind or why she did it.

As you can imagine, it has upset everyone. The men's match was cancelled on Tuesday, and tomorrow's BBQ has been cancelled too.

I don't know if there are any answers to this sort of thing, but boy, I feel for her husband and sons and all her friends.

Going back

Ed and I ventured back to the old patch yesterday. Not quite to my old parishes, but to the big church in the town nearby. My friendship with the rural dean has continued, and we meet every six weeks or so for lunch together. He invited me back to his church to talk about my novel and sign some books, then to preach at Evensong afterwards.

"Not a sermon," he said. "Just tell us about what it feels like to be a retired priest." So I did.

I met again lots of lovely people I knew before I left, and enjoyed catching up on all the news. Then at Evensong, a stranger came and sat next to me - well, it was the only seat left. Since he came in late we shared a hymn book, but imagine my surprise when the rural dean introduced him after the service as my successor in my old parishes.

He seemed very nice, and we had a good chat. He's really enjoying the area - how could he fail to? it's lovely - and the people, so that was good to hear. I thought it was so nice of him to come and meet me.

So all in all, a good day. Nothing like meeting old friends again and making new ones, is there?

Thank God for rain!

At last we've had some rain. A couple of short but sharp showers yesterday, which meant that Ed didn't have to water the garden for once. It also reduced the very high humidity we've been suffering lately, and I was actually able to sleep last night - first time for weeks.

Ed and I drove to the hospital during the sweltering heat for a routine appointment, only to find that the car parks were completely packed and we were all redirected to the staff car park. We eventually found a slot, but it was a quarter of a mile walk to the hospital. Okay for us, but we passed this really elderly couple staggering along on sticks and wondered how on earth they were going to make it. Still, they were gone when we came out, so must have managed somehow.

The golf was much better today and I no longer want to sling my clubs into the nearest river. It was cool enough to wear a sweater - bliss - and Ed and I had a buggy, which made it even better.

The schools break up today, so I guess summer is actually now starting, although as the end of my first year of retirement, it feels like the summer is nearly over, especially as we've had such hot weather for the last few weeks.

Isn't it strange how a change in circumstances changes your whole perception of life?

Are you an even keel?

Are you an even keel sort of person, or are you someone who is prone to incredible highs but devastating lows?

I've always regarded myself as pretty even. I do get fed up from time to time, but it's never much more than that and it rarely lasts longer than a few hours. I do enjoy the highs, but perhaps I don't experience quite as much high as those people who get high highs and low lows, if you see what I mean.

But the last couple of days haven't been good. I don't know why - and that in itself is intensely irritating. If I knew why I felt miserable perhaps I could do something about it. But I don't. I just am.

Mind you, I have just played the worse game of golf ever, so that may be a contributing factor. No, not maybe. Is!

Of course, by the time you read this I'll be my usual cheerful self again - and now here's something amazing. Just writing it down has helped!

Clearly, blogging is working some sort of miracle (and I promise not to depress you next time!)

It amused me...

You may already have heard this, since it's one of those jokes which circulate the Internet, but it made me laugh so I'm passing it on to you.

A cabbie picks up a nun.

She gets into the cab, and notices that the VERY handsome cab driver won't stop staring at her.

She asks him why he is staring.

He replies: 'I have a question to ask you but I don't want to offend you.'

She answers, 'My son, you cannot offend me. When you're as old as I am and have been a nun as long as I have, you get a chance to see and hear just about everything. I'm sure that there's nothing you could say or ask that I would find offensive.'

'Well, I've always had a fantasy to have a nun kiss me.'

She responds, 'Well, let's see what we can do about that:

#1, you have to be single and

#2, you must be Catholic.'

The cab driver is very excited and says, 'Yes, I'm single and Catholic!'

'OK' the nun says. 'Pull into the next alley.'

The nun fulfils his fantasy, with a kiss that would make a hooker blush. But when they get back on the road, the cab driver starts crying.

'My dear child,' says the nun, 'why are you crying?'

'Forgive me but I've sinned. I lied and I must confess, I'm married and I'm Jewish.'

The nun says, 'That's OK. My name is Kevin and I'm going to a fancy dress party.'

An outing on the Broads

Yesterday was so good.

In the morning I took two services for a priest colleague who is away. One service had just three elderly ladies, plus Ed and me. One lady played the organ, one acted as churchwarden, and one supported them both!

The other service was better attended, with around sixty people including a group of young Germans who were on a houseboat on the Broads for ten days.

Then it was back to our own church for a BBQ.

In the evening, we had an outing on the Broads (the Norfolk Broads are small lakes and inlets connected by rivers, and an area of outstanding natural beauty) on a boat chartered by our neighbours. To mark Malcolm's retirement (for the fourth time, but that's another story) he and his wife invited 80 guests to join them on the Queen of the Broads for a party. (We live very close to the Broads, so it was only a ten minute car journey to reach the landing stage.)

We chugged slowly down the river through three or four Broads, listening to music, waving to anyone we passed, watching the wild life (loads of herons and sea birds), admiring the property (for the wealthy) dancing a bit, chatting to friends, and then enjoying a buffet supper, washed down with wine.

Altogether it was four hour trip, and great fun. Nothing like good neighbours, is there?

A lovely day

Ed and I have had such a lovely day. We drove over to Fi and Stu's, where four-year-old granddaughter was splashing about naked in their inflatable "swimming pool". She was having a wonderful time, and since the temperature today has been 30 degrees, it was probably the best place to be.

Fi wanted to take us into Bury St Edmunds, where a whole new shopping complex has been opened. Our granddaughter suggested a picnic in the Abbey gardens, which was a great idea.

Off we went, found a shady spot under a spreading chestnut tree (or something), strangely enough overlooking the children's play area. Granddaughter soon made lots of friends and had a whale of a time.

After lunch we ambled around the new shops. Fi bought a pair of shoes (with four inch stilettos) and I bought a bolero and a pair of shoes (without four inch stilettos).

Then it was a frappé in an air-conditioned café before driving home.

It's been a really great day.

Happy holidays

I hope everyone who celebrates it, had a really good fourth of July. It was a hot day here again (which means it was in the 70s) and I'd burned across my shoulders the day before, so spent yesterday indoors.

It's this new dress, see. Ed and I have ruby wedding coming up next month, which we're celebrating with over sixty friends and family, so I bought a new dress for the occasion. Yes, it's red. No, I don't usually wear dresses - happier in jeans.

So I tried the dress on again, just to make sure I could still squeeze into it, and discovered I resembled a Neapolitan ice-cream - mahogany arms, face and tiny V of neck from playing golf in a polo shirt, then a layer of coffee on my upper arms (shorter sleeves in some shirts than others) and pasty white on top of upper arms and around rest of neck. Not nice. I had to do something.

I sat in the garden for a couple of hours on Saturday morning, until the laptop battery died, then maybe another hour later until it was too hot to breathe, but discovered in the evening that perhaps it was a smidgeon too long.

I'm now mahogany, coffee and scarlet.

Still not nice.

Watching the tennis...

...from Wimbledon. It's one of the great moments in the British sporting calendar (hang on a moment. Match point against Federer requires concentration - okay, it's back to deuce!) especially as our Andy Murray is through to the quarter finals. No British male has won Wimbledon since the days of Fred Perry, and even I don't remember him!

Second match point coming up. Wow! he's done it! Federer is out. That's amazing! And I don't even know the other fellow's name.

Our British sport hasn't been up to much this summer. The media hype over the football world cup had to be seen to be believed, and then we bowed out with ignominy almost as soon as we'd got to South Africa.

Justin Rose won the Memorial golf tournament in America, then led for the first three rounds of the Traveler's, only to lose it in the final round and finish ninth.

Oh well. It's playing the game that counts, isn't it? And someone has to be down there propping up the winners. It's just not such a comfortable place to be, but it may be character-building.

Or not.

What do you think?

Surprises are great - sometimes!

This was a wonderful surprise, a blast from the past.

There we were, quietly watching the golf from America on TV, when the phone rang. It was friends we haven't seen for nearly twenty years, even though we live in the same county.

"Just on the off chance," they said, "are you free tomorrow night? 'Cos we're barbecuing and we'd like you to come over."

We were free and we went. They've moved since we saw them last and now live in a lovely old farmhouse in forty acres of their own ground where Heidi is a horse trader and looker-after (fifteen horses at the moment) and David pastures cattle for the farmer next door.

Their place is beautiful; a wonderful garden with a large, natural pond stocked with fish, their own water supply from a bore hole, and a delightful, soppy rescue dog, a cross between a setter and a retriever.

We had such a good evening, sitting out in the garden, catching up on the years (and wondering where they've all gone!) Years ago we used to meet up and joke about going into an old people's home together and livening it up, never imagining that we'd actually ever get old.

Happy times. It's a good job every age has something to recommend it, and this present age brings us memories to savour. It was great.

Great days...

...but not necessarily great weather.

My brother and his wife came over from America last week, bringing their eight-year-old grandson. They arrived at Heathrow on Wednesday morning and came up to see us on Friday.
When the little lad climbed out of the car he said, "Is it winter here?"

He could be forgiven for thinking that. On Sunday I was back into a polo neck sweater, a woollen cardigan and a gilet, and was only just warm enough.

Today we've been sweltering on the golf course, with temperatures forecast to rise to 30 degrees by Sunday.

Watching Wimbledon at the moment. Andy Murray has just won his match - hooray - and that marathon match of 59 all in the final set from last night is set to continue any time now.

After that I'm off for a wedding rehearsal prior to the wedding on Saturday, which is rather nice since weddings won't come my way too often now that I'm retired.

Oh, and I've just started writing the third novel, so plenty going on.

Great days!

The family are descending...

...upon us today, so it's a quick rush round with the Hoover, a dash to the local shop (yes, we only have one and are fortunate to have that) for something to amuse four-year-old granddaughter, and enough food to feed the universe.

Actually, it's great to see them back as they spent over three weeks on an epic four and a half thousand miles bike ride on their Harley Davidsons (granddaughter in the side car) across just about the whole of Europe (felt like that to me anyway, anxiously waiting at home) before reaching Bulgaria where they have an old farmhouse. It was quite a ride, with eight adults and one small child, especially when they encountered floods across central Europe. But between the raindrops, a temperature of a hundred in Bulgaria - far too hot for me!

Still, home safely (thank you, God) and no doubt bringing the photos with them today. Our son is coming over too, but youngest daughter is still in Swindon, struggling to finish her PhD (on ancient glass. Yes, I know. You don't believe anyone could spend three whole years studying that!) by the end of July.

So this is a quick visit to blogland. Up and at 'em now. Have a good weekend.

A new toy

I have a new toy - well, a phone actually, but it feels like a new toy. Does take a while to get used to these new appliances though, doesn't it?

This is a poor man's iphone, a Samsung Tocco Lite. I'm a mere pay-as-you-go customer, so have to fork out for new phones and don't get any of the fantastic benefits that tariff customers get, like free phones (and a hefty monthly bill). Mind you, I use it so rarely that I can't justify a state-of-the-art job.

Still, this one is very nice, with a good camera and a touch screen (yes, I'm only just beginning with a touch screen. Sad, isn't it?) And I can synchronise it with my Google calendar through a nifty bit of free software called - yes, you've guessed - Goosync.

I can also download my email with it, although why I should want to do that I'm not sure.

All in all, a satisfactory buy - and I've given Ed my old phone, which is like a whole new experience for him. Perhaps he'll even take up texting, if we wait long enough.

Pain in the neck

Playing golf on foot in the pouring rain last Tuesday didn't help. I'd already had a few problems with my neck over the preceding few weeks, but after 27 holes on a foreign course (that's about six miles of walking), my neck seized up completely.

Ed came all the way to drive me home (my cousin had come over from about two hour's away in the opposite direction, stayed the night, then driven us both to the course at some unearthly hour in the morning) and I survived through the mercies of Panadol. Mind you, I didn't mind too much as I won the tournament!

I've been wearing a collar in bed each night, and the neck is a lot better now, so back to golf on Tuesday. In a previous incarnation as a physiotherapist, I used to enjoy treating golfers because I knew they would always get better, they were so determined to get back to playing. Jockeys were even worse. Most of the jockeys I treated had broken every bone in their body at some time or another, and would think nothing of riding in a race with a broken arm.

Anyway, enough of illnesses and complaints. I'm delighted that my publisher has agreed to publish the sequel to "Heaven Spent", so I'll be starting on that long and arduous path quite soon in the hope that it will be out for Christmas 2011.

More than that I cannot ask.

A great discovery

I discovered something great today.

I'm an avid reader (yes, all escapist fiction) and I mostly read my novels in digital form on my Sony reader. I used to belong to fictionwise.com,which is a very comprehensive and good value American site, but when it was taken over by Barnes and Noble, suddenly found I couldn't buy half the books I wanted because I live in the wrong area. Apparently there's something like the DVD areas thing which means you can only watch videos (or read books) from your own area. Is that daft, or what? Anyway, when I started buying from Fictionwise it was fine, but once B&N had taken it over, most of the books I wanted were denied me. So I quit Fictionwise and started looking in the UK.

Waterstones is really the main UK distributor selling ebooks, but boy, are they expensive! Unlike Fictionwise, you pay almost as much for an ebook as for a hard copy.

I found that in America you can borrow ebooks from your local library, but no such luck over here - until today!

Today I discovered that Norwich library now loans ebooks for free.

How great is that? I've downloaded my first three books, which I get for 21 days before they expire. Presumably, if I read them quicker than that, I can borrow some more.

I think this is terrific. I'm in for a very happy Bank Holiday weekend, curled up in an armchair listening to the rain, but deep into escapism on my E-reader.

Good to be home

Nice to go away for a while, but isn't it good to get home? Funny thing is, while I was working I couldn't wait to get away and longed for more breaks. Now I'm not working and can go away whenever I want, I'm much less keen on going! Why is that?

Spent yesterday afternoon relaxing in the hammock in the garden in hot sunshine - perhaps that's why I like home! The older I get, the more I appreciate my own bed and my own chair. Am I sounding really decrepit by now?

 On a less decrepit note, I have just finished by second novel ( a sequel to "Heaven Spent") and emailed the publishers. Hope they want it, otherwise you'll never know what happens to Polly... and I shall be miserable. Not for long, though - I hope to be starting on the final novel of the trilogy soon. Keep watching - and reading!

A surprising day

Home now from our week's break, we had a surprising day yesterday. The Brits are passionate about gardening, so we went to Barnsdale Gardens and expected just – well, gardens. Plenty of colour and lovely flowers, but nothing more. Were we surprised! We discovered Barnsdale Gardens were designed and built by Geoff Hamilton, who from there, presented a weekly gardening programme on television for around fifteen years.

They're amazing. There are something like forty different gardens within the main garden, all separated from each other by box hedges or fences or lovely brick walls. Most of the gardens are quite small, so could be reproduced by anyone. There were cottage gardens, town gardens, scented gardens, tranquillity gardens, water gardens, a Japanese garden, etc. And plenty of strategically placed seats for the weary (which we were, since it was hot and steamy and we walked there!) Round every corner there was a lovely surprise.

A perfect ending to our holiday.

Here are some photos to whet your appetite...

Another day out

Yesterday we popped into Leicestershire to follow one of the trails around Burrough Hill Fort. It's an iron age fort so there are no signs of the actual fort now, but it commands a hill top presence with wonderful views of the surrounding countryside and some good walks. We had a picnic lunch there, then drove on to Melton Mowbray, the Midlands town famous for its pork pies.

We found Ye Olde Porke Pie Shoppe, but weren't tempted, especially as it began to rain. A nearby coffee shop was more to our taste.

Today we played golf at Rutland Water golf club, and were amazed to discover the course is only three years old. It was quite challenging enough for us. We went round in a buggy which is a treat for me but essential for Ed, and although I felt much less tired than usual after playing, I still came back and fell asleep in front of the television.

Tomorrow I'm looking forward to gardens and bird watching, so hope the warmer weather remains and the rain keeps away. At least we're not affected by the ash cloud from Iceland, down here on the ground. I feel for those hoping to holiday abroad but spending all their time waiting about in airports for the wind to change.

Rutland Water

Ed and I are here at Rutland Water for a week.

Rutland is the smallest county in England, situated in the middle of the country and about two and a half hours' drive from home. It's quite hilly here in the Midlands, so that will test our walking prowess, since we're only used to the flatlands of Norfolk, but gorgeous countryside to explore.

We're staying in a lodge overlooking the lake – the largest man-made lake in England. It's now a habitat for water birds, so we hope to go bird watching during the week.

We strolled along the shore today, avoiding the sheep and admiring the views, and made our way to Rutland Water golf course, where we've booked to play on Tuesday and Thursday, weather permitting (I'm a fine weather golfer. Don't see much fun in struggling round in cold or wet weather).

Oh, and I've had a swim, too. This country club has a large indoor swimming pool with the usual jacuzzi and sauna, so I hope to make the most of it for a week. Today being Sunday, it was fairly inundated with families and children, so I beat a hasty retreat after half an hour or so and will return in the morning.

The prices in the restaurant are astronomical (for us, anyway), so we're mostly planning to eat in, take picnics out or find tiny country pubs. But at least wifi broadband is free – hence the blog!

Not a bad life, is it?

An interesting encounter

I met a stranger on the bus today, and we got talking. She was only a youngster in her twenties, but was having such a tough time. She'd been living with her boyfriend's family, and he drove her to work each morning and picked her up at night. A week ago, when she got in the car in the morning, she discovered that he had loaded all her possessions (two plastic bags' worth) into the car. He didn't say a word until he dropped her off at work then said, "Don't bother coming back again." Then he drove off.

She said she had no idea why this had happened, and he refused to respond to texts, emails, phone calls. So she was homeless. She went to stay with her Gran, but because she'd been in trouble as a teenager, her aunts hated her so she had to leave Gran's at the weekend as they were in the habit of popping over.

Her mother died when she was a baby, so she was brought up by Gran and Grandad, but Grandad died when she was eleven. Her father raped one of her aunts when the aunt was fifteen, so Social Services removed my new young friend from the family home. She has an elder sister but she's on drugs, and an elder brother, but he's now living with father, so has no contact whatsoever with his young sister.

The council say this young woman isn't vulnerable, so cannot go on the council house list. They have offered her a place in a house in a tiny country village miles from anywhere - she was going to see it today which is why we met on the bus - but if she goes there, she'd have to give up her job because she has no transport. There are three other people living in the house - all strangers to her - and she doesn't even know whether they are male or female.

Apart from Gran, she is utterly alone in the world, with no income and (in the tiny village) no possibility of employment.

I so wanted to help her, but all I could do was listen to her story and encourage her. Do spare her a thought and prayer or two, if you can.

A(nother) new start

Well, a great new start for us in the UK - or rather, yet another new start. Do I sound cynical? Perish the thought. I really hope and pray that this new coalition government works. It ought to - we in the sticks manage to work together for the good of the majority, so the top politicians ought to be capable of a little co-operation.

This is the first coalition government since the second world war, so most of the electorate have no experience whatsoever of coalitions. It all looks very promising and exciting at the moment. So why my skepticism?

Every time there's a new government we're promised a new start, with lots of blandishments to encourage us. It's usually quite good for around six months, then things start to slide. Will this new start be any different? I doubt it, especially with the huge financial problems we have.

But I do know one thing for sure. Whatever happens, we - the people - will have to pay. 'Twas ever thus. I just hope that the poorest won't be paying the highest price.

We continue to wait

Here in the UK we had our general election last Thursday. As this was the first ever election where the leaders have been televised in public debate, it was quite exciting for us, even though we learned nothing new after the first debate. All the leaders promised us swingeing cuts because our national deficit is so high following the banks' fiasco, but none of them told us where the cuts would fall or what they would be. Accordingly, the nation voted for a hung parliament -  a coalition of more than one party.

The trouble is, they can't agree on which parties or how it can happen. Our politicians are so steeped in party politics that they seem unable to work together for the good of the country. So we're still waiting to see who will govern us. What fun it all is, if you don't weaken.

Our weather has turned bitterly cold, wet and miserable, with snow forecast for Scotland. Thankfully Ed and I are well south of Scotland, so should escape.

I've picked up an infection and can't stop coughing, in common with many folks around here. Hope it clears up and Ed doesn't catch it, as we're off next week for a week at Rutland Water, a beautiful spot around a hundred miles or so from here.

Today we had a visit by a friend from the old parish, so caught up on the gossip, always enjoyable! The new priest is in place at last, after a nine month interregnum, so hopefully the parishes will now go from strength to strength. Meanwhile, I'm doing a bit round here. I preached yesterday at the two churches in this benefice and we're beginning to make new friends.

Tomorrow is a trip to the accountant, an annual chore I hate. Priests are considered to be self-employed, even though salary is paid by the Church Commissioners, so we have to send in our own tax returns each year, and it's inevitably complicated. Hopefully, now I've retired it will be the last such visit we have to make. That will be enough to out a big smile on my face!

The weather is still lovely...

...hence I'm outside as much as possible, while it lasts. The forecast is for a break in this glorious sunny weather on Sunday, with a return to the cold and wet we know so well. So it's gardening, golf, walking, cycling as long as it lasts.

We had a friend from the old parish to lunch on Monday - which was lovely, catching up on times past - ate the leftovers yesterday and are out to supper with friends tonight, so no need to think too much about food at the moment, always a blessing!

Our son rang last night. He's eager to take his four-year-old niece (our granddaughter) to Belwilderwood on Monday. Monday is a Bank Holiday for us, so everyone (virtually) has a day off. Bewilderwood is a kind of vast assault course for little people and is quite close to where we now live. I think the idea is for the whole family to come back here for a meal afterwards...

This afternoon I'm off to do a job for the diocese. All priests are entitled to CME - Continuing Ministerial Education - and encouraged to keep up-to-date with various courses. My job is to visit some priests who are new to the diocese and acquaint them with all that CME has to offer. Today I'm off to visit a team vicar who has only been in this diocese for a few months, so it will be interesting to meet him and see how he's enjoying life in Norfolk.

Tomorrow and Friday, more golf, then another friend to supper on Saturday - and so the weeks roll by.

Not a bad life, this retirement lark.

Blame the weather!

I'm so sorry I haven't been around all week - blame the weather! It's been so lovely, the outdoors has beckoned and I have succumbed. Golf, walks, garden - all sing to me like the Sirens, calling me to come out and play. So I have.

I also discovered an interesting atheist website, and couldn't resist responding to their comments on Christianity. I rather enjoy religious discussions with atheists, but have problems with the fundamentalist type of atheist - those who think all Christians believe that the Bible must be taken literally and that God is an old man up in the sky. How easy it is to tear that sort of belief apart! But since many Christians don't believe that, such atheists are tilting at windmills. I just have this conviction that if you're going to tear anything apart, you need to know something about your subject. Richard Dawkins, are you listening?

I picked up a quiz from the golf club yesterday and am stuck on one final question. So perhaps you can help. The clue is, "Did this man teach some insects to float?" and the answer has to begin with a Y. Ed and I have racked our meagre brains and come up with nothing. I'd like it to be Muhammad Ali (float like a butterfly...) but his name doesn't begin with a Y.

Any ideas?

An obituary you really must read. Printed in the London Times

I couldn't resist this and thought you might appreciate it too:

Interesting and sadly true.    

Today we mourn  the passing of a beloved old friend, Common  Sense, who has been with us for many years.

No one knows for sure how old he was, since  his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red  tape.

He will be remembered as having cultivated such  valuable lessons as:

- Knowing when to come in out of  the rain;
- Why the early bird gets the worm;
- Life isn't always fair;
- Maybe it was my fault. 

Common Sense  lived by simple, sound financial  policies (don't spend more than you can earn) and reliable  strategies (adults, not children, are in charge).

His  health began to deteriorate rapidly when well-intentioned but  overbearing regulations were set in place.

Reports of a  6-year-old boy charged with sexual harassment for kissing a  classmate; teens suspended from school for using mouthwash  after lunch; and a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly  student, only worsened his condition.

Common Sense  lost ground when parents attacked  teachers for doing the job that they themselves had failed to  do in disciplining their unruly children.

It declined  even further when schools were required to get parental  consent to administer sun lotion or an aspirin to a student;  but could not inform parents when a student became pregnant  and wanted to have an abortion.

Common Sense  started to lose the will to live  as the churches became businesses; and criminals received  better treatment than their victims.

Common Sense  took a beating when you couldn't  defend yourself from a burglar in your own home and the  burglar could sue you for assault.

Common Sense  finally gave up the will to live,  after a woman failed to realize that a steaming cup of coffee  was hot. She spilled a little in her lap, and was promptly  awarded a huge settlement.

Common Sense  was preceded in death, by his  parents, Truth and Trust, by his wife, Discretion, by his  daughter, Responsibility, and by his son, Reason.

He is survived by his 4 stepbrothers;

I Know My Rights 

I Want It Now

Someone Else Is To Blame 

I'm A Victim

Not many attended his  funeral because so few realized he was gone.

Natural beauty

Actually, "natural beauty" is a phrase I've just heard on the television. I'm sitting here, laptop on lap, watching the golf from China, hence the natural beauty. But it seemed apt for this time of year in England. The trees have burst into blossom, the spring flowers are adorning every garden, and on the golf course this morning one of the pairs of geese had produced eleven tiny goslings - balls of fluff tottering along behind Mum and Dad. Add to this blue skies and sunshine - and Oh, to be in England now that April's here.

Ten copies of my novel, "Heaven Spent" had been delivered when I got home from golf. Quite exciting because I can embark on the next stage of marketing, taking it to the local press, giving talks, etc. The publishers recommend that authors have twenty-five copies of their book on hand at any time, for those occasional opportunities which crop up, but we couldn't afford twenty-five. They don't let me have any books for free, I have to buy them, albeit at a reduced rate.


Ah! The tinny tones of "Colonel Bogey" fill the air. The ice-cream van is working the roads round here. Not that I've ever seen anyone buy an ice-cream, but I suppose it must pay since he keeps on coming. Ed and I buy large tubs from the supermarket and keep them in the freezer, but now and again a Mr Whippy with a large chocolate flake stuck in it does sound remarkably appealing.

If the weather continues, I might buy one!

post-funeral visits

I find it interesting that church folk - at least over here in the UK in the Church of England - think a post funeral visit by the clergy is an essential part of the funeral service.

The funeral procedure goes like this. I get a call from the funeral directors telling me about the death and giving me brief details of the deceased and the next of kin. I then ring the next of kin and make an appointment to visit, in order to chat about the funeral and find out what they want at the funeral.

I then put the funeral together, ring the organist and the verger and set it all up. I take the funeral and usually say goodbye to the family at the graveside, or occasionally go on to share refreshments in the village hall or the pub or whatever.

A week or so later I make a post funeral visit to the next of kin, just to offer support and see how they're getting on.

All of this is expected by those within the church, but I think things are changing. Once or twice I've called again after the funeral, to be met with a blank look and the spoken or unspoken question of: Why are you here?

This afternoon I decided to do a post funeral visit from last Tuesday's funeral. The widow had asked all sorts of questions at the pre-funeral visit and at the funeral, questions like, How can you stand up there and do what you do when God doesn't answer prayer? God took my husband, even though I prayed and prayed. How can there be a God, if he does things like that?

We had what I thought were meaningful conversations, where she seemed to come around a little and began to realise that there were other ways of thinking of God other than as an old man with a long white beard sitting on a cloud, deciding whether people should live or die. So I thought this was definitely a post funeral visit I should make.

But I was wrong. I rang first to check if it was OK, but she didn't really want me there, and was being well looked after by neighbours who were rallying round. So we had a cup of tea and a chat and I came away.

What do you think? Should clergy automatically visit again after a funeral, or should we keep out of it?

A Japanese BBQ

Easter Day with all the family was wonderful. We all ate too much chocolate, and I continue to do so. What's the point of retiring if you can't get fat?

On Monday, Ed and I went car hunting. Since our car is well over ten years old and beginning to be a rust bucket, we thought it was time to change. We wandered across the road (literally) to nosey around the local car dealer's, and found a Nissan Almeira SE automatic which should serve us nicely for a few years. It's an automatic, which was what we wanted, and should get more to the gallon than our present Vauxhall Omega automatic, which drinks petrol. We pick it up on Thursday.

Then our son and younger daughter came over and transported us into Norwich, where there was a French street market going on. That was fun, wandering up and down the stalls, looking at the goods. I was tempted to buy some Roquefort cheese, but in the end decided against it since there would only be Ed and me to eat it all.

The youngsters were anxious to take us to a Japanese BBQ restaurant. I didn't know such a thing existed, but it does. Each table has an electric grill set into it. You choose your dish and it's delivered to the table cut into tiny, bite-sized strips, which you then barbecue at the table to your satisfaction. The rice and the Miso soup come already cooked, thank goodness. Actually, it was quite fun, and I think a very sociable way of eating.Pity I'd downed two hot cross buns and half an Easter egg before venturing out...

Yesterday's funeral went well, and the weather stayed dry, which is an added bonus as you stand at the graveside.

Just a wedding rehearsal tomorrow night, a funeral on Friday, a wedding on Saturday and three services on Sunday, and I return to being retired. I hope.

Four weddings and a funeral...

Well, not quite. But I have picked up two funerals and a wedding for next week.
All the stipendiary clergy take the week after Easter off, understandably since Lent and Holy Week are extremely demanding, and even English churches still tend to be full on Easter Day. But it means the clergy need cover for the week, which is where we retired clergy come into our own.

The two funerals are generating a lot of sadness. In both cases, the couple were about to move to a new house in a neighbouring parish, and in both cases the widows have decided to go ahead, so each funeral is in the new parish.

I shall be glad of the wedding next Saturday to lighten my mood. Funny how funerals somehow get into your blood, after a time. It's as if you absorb some of that raw emotion which is flying around. Still, if any time of year can be said to be a good time for a funeral, perhaps this is it. It does bring the Easter message home in a very powerful way, unlike any other, and the churches will be filled with all the glory of the Easter flowers.

Meanwhile, the family are descending tomorrow from all quarters of the land, for Easter lunch cooked by Mum and Dad - and chocolate galore!

I can't wait!

Proofreading and editing?

Thank you all so much for your kind words and encouragement about my novel. If you do happen to read it, could I ask you please, to write a review for me? I need lots of reviews, preferably good ones!

Ed and I went into Norwich today for hair cuts (when I read that it makes it sound as we both have hair down to our shoulders. We don't. Honestly. Well, not now, anyway) and I felt so sorry for the girl selling The Big Issue in the pouring rain, that I bought a copy. I quite often buy a copy when I go to Norwich, but seldom read it. Today, with nothing to do in the hairdresser's, I started to read it.

There was an advert for a proofreading and editing course. Considering how much it has cost me to have my novel edited ( 15p per word - and a lot of words, work it out) - and only about three words were changed since it was virtually oven-ready - this sounds like a good idea.

If I can professionally proofread and edit and charge less than 15p per word, I should soon make my fortune. Or something. At least it would make considerably more than writing a novel is likely to make. Anyway, even if I don't proofread other people's books, I shall definitely proofread and edit my next novel myself, now I know what is expected. It's a sequel to "Heaven Spent" and nearly finished.

Meanwhile, I've sent off for details of the course (which I can do online) just to see what transpires.

Ain't this fun?

Published!

It's happened at last - my novel is published!

What an age this publishing game takes. The publishing company guarantees to publish within a year, and they just about made it.

What is this amazing and fantastic novel about? I hear you ask.

Called "Heaven Spent", it's set in rural Norfolk parishes in the UK, and features a young, enthusiastic female curate who is sent to work with an elderly, traditional male incumbent. Added to this explosive mix is a stranger, a beautiful girl who appears from nowhere and is searching for her father.

Do have a look at the website (where you can order it, if you're so minded): www.eloquentbooks.com/HeavenSpent.html or if you live in America, I understand you can buy it from Barnes and Noble or Amazon.com.

Here is the cover, hopefully to whet your appetite:

Singing, and lunch out

On Sunday evening our choir sang "Olivet to Calvary" at a local church. It's a gorgeous piece, and I so enjoyed singing it. In fact, I decided I like it so much that I downloaded it from iTunes. Not that our production was quite up to that standard, but what the heck.

Today I drove back to the old patch to have lunch with my former rural dean. We always got on well together and since I left, have met two or three times for lunch. He took me to a little local pub/restaurant, tucked away where no one could find it, and had a fabulous meal. But the place is so hidden that there was only one other couple there. Such a pity when the food is excellent.

We had a long mardle (good old Norfolk word for chat) and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. He's coming up to me next time (in June) and I plan to take him to the pink place. It's not actually called that, but it is pink and they have a conservatory, where you can look over the animals in the next field as you eat. All very rural and typically Norfolk.

Meanwhile Ed and I are actually playing golf together tomorrow - this is a rarity - so I'm looking forward to that. Naturally rain is forecast...