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Winter With the onset of winter I had my first date. One of my old pupils kept her promise and took me out for lunch. We went for a meal at Wyken Vineyard near Ixworth followed by a walk in the gloaming at West Stow Country Park. I don’t think my former student thought much of my driving. She squealed once or twice – and not because I was nipping her knee. It was a very enjoyable occasion for me but I think Victoria was a bit underwhelmed. I haven’t heard from her since! During the course of the year I went every couple of months with Hazel to visit her sister and my friend Eileen Coe who was a resident in a local care home. These visits were not short of entertainment. One morning we sat next to a short, stocky, blind man who shouted out periodically, “Help!” He interspersed his cries for help with: “Any biscuits” or “Any more biscuits” or “Could do with a cup of tea.” When he was assured that biscuits were on the way he made me laugh by saying: “The sooner the better.” I had a marvellous Christmas card from a former colleague with whom I taught Geography at Debenham. She was one of the few who shared my views on educational claptrap. She wrote me a few lines of invective about modern trends in teaching which dripped with venom. I felt so proud of her! I had a rather sad letter from Lesley – an old pupil from County Grammar School days. She is a sheep farmer in mid Wales - surely an idyllic existence! Nothing could be further from the truth. A lifetime forking hay has left her with mould in the lung, in the nasal passages and behind the eyes. Moulds are notoriously difficult to treat. In January I had the first of many car troubles. I needed a new starter motor, cam belt and water pump. Things did not improve as the year progressed and repair bills mounted up. In January I attended Rowland’s funeral – a truly admirable character with whom I played hockey for many years. There were hundreds at Rowland’s thanksgiving service in St Mary’s church. It is amazing what he packed into his life. In every aspect of his full life he was liked and respected for his integrity, humour, honour and bonhomie. He had the best of relationships with his family, work colleagues, his clients and fellow sportsmen. I suppose most of those at the funeral would think that if heaven exists no one was more deserving of it than Rowland. But no-one deserves it! Rowland, like so many highly revered men and women, was lacking just the one relationship that matters most – a relationship with Jesus. I left the funeral feeling very, very sad. At the beginning of January I contracted a cold and chest infection. I coughed, and coughed and coughed – all through January and February. Never again – next time I will go to the doctor double quick. I looked in the mirror to shave at the end of February and was sad to see such a gaunt, drawn face. I think the infection actually affected my powers of concentration. I made a series of silly mistakes like when I left my reading glasses on the stairs before going out. When I came home I climbed the stairs and trod on my spectacles. On January 23rd I felt fit enough to resume bird watching with Tommy Bamber and our younger friend Stuey Hill. It was a glorious morning – cold, bright and still. We saw some nice birds: a flock of linnets, 3 beautiful bullfinches, a kingfisher along the river in Culford Park and a goosander on the fishermen’s lakes in West Stow Country Park. The following week proceedings were enlivened by a dog that took a fancy to Tommy’s groin. He tried to kick it out of the way – without much success – calling out to the owner to control her dog. The owner wasn’t best pleased and said, “Don’t be like that – it’s only a puppy.” She patted the hound on the head, muttering, “Rude man!” Needless to say Tommy was unrepentant. On Sunday Feb 15th I forgot to lock the kitchen door, left the morning collection on a cabinet in my study and went to the evening service. This allowed a thief to sneak in and steal £274 cash. Spring I had an eventful spring with more ups than downs. On a bright March afternoon I caught the children pouring out of Westgate Primary School as I wandered down to Stamford Court to post a letter. One little girl was having a race with her father. Two small boys were floating sticks in the river. A lively wee thing was proud as punch that her baby brother had just learned to walk and was taking a few faltering steps beside her. A very old, bent lady held a tiny granddaughter by each hand. It was a cheering sight. Pastor MacGregor used a very good illustration at our morning service on March 22nd. When Arthur Scargill was on Desert Island Discs he was asked what his luxury item would be. He said, “The Mona Lisa.” On being invited to explain his choice Arthur Scargill admitted that for years he was unimpressed by the Mona Lisa. He couldn’t understand what all the fuss was about. Then one day, on a visit to the Louvre, Arthur saw it for himself. That made all the difference. In a country where over one in five of the population believes that Jesus is a purely fictional figure – oh that men and women would see him for themselves. He is worth having - more so than the Mona Lisa! Not so much a luxury as a necessity. At the end of March Tommy, Stuey and I had a great morning’s bird watching. It was one of those spring days when the blackthorn blossom sparkled in the sunshine. The keen eyed Stuey managed to spot 11 circling buzzards during the morning – which is about 9 more than Tom and I would have seen on our own. Our Good Friday Service is a throwback to the past. When I was a boy it was a special service followed by a good tea. My brothers competed to see who could eat the most sandwiches. Paul always won! I am pleased to say that it is still a service that attracts elderly visitors from other churches. Our chapel was full – the singing items melodious, the congregational singing hearty and the sermon by Richard Underwood uplifting. People hung around for ages afterwards. The only sad aspect was that there were no youngsters to participate in the sandwich eating contest. On April 21st I had an uncomfortable time at the dentist. As he scrapped the tartar off my teeth his assistant was squirting water into my mouth with one tube and sucking it out with another. I was also trying without much success to swallow some of the water and only succeeding in nearly choking myself to death. Then I had a tooth extracted whose root seemed to extend down to my ankles. “We’ll take this one slowly,” said the dentist as he pulled and pulled and pulled. Next day as I regaled Ken and Gwen Hebditch with my experience, Gwen said that Ken had never been to the dentist in his life. Every single one of his teeth had dropped out. I looked at Ken and said, “You must have had some tooth ache.” He replied, without elaboration, “Yes!” At the end of the month I paid a very happy visit to my brother Peter and his wife Olive in Dovercourt. They both enjoy their little garden and all the birds that come to their feeders. We had a short walk at the eastern end of Dovercourt where there is a variety of habitats: small flooded gravel pits, scrub, dunes, beach and a London Clay wave-cut platform – great for different species of bird. Kenny Boreham, a friend from boyhood, made me laugh when we were discussing the consequences of taking water tablets namely, when you’ve gotta go – you’ve gotta go. KB discovered this to his cost when he rushed to the toilet from the garden only to find he had his pants on back to front. Disastrous! While I was on my way to visit Peter Lincoln (more of that later) my engine began to misfire. Fortunately I was close to a garage in Ashbocking. I managed to drive there and ask for help. My coil had packed up. The mechanics at the garage were very obliging. I sat on a bench by the road for an hour while waiting for the part to be delivered. The big bonus was to discover some Rosy Garlic in flower on the grass verge. The mechanics let me leave without paying the whole bill. I must have an honest face. One of my pleasures these days is to watch Ireland West Music on channel 266. I love it when the Irish announcer says, “And now my favourite, we are going to have a song from the late, great Joe Dolan.” Summer >[? For several days in June I had a very welcome visitor at dusk. I had a lovely thrush on my back “lawn”. It is such a well groomed bird – unlike my “lawn!” In the second week of June I went for my usual holiday to East Runton in North Norfolk. It is a picturesque part of East Anglia located as it is on the Cromer Moraine – a ridge of sand and gravels which gives rise to meadows, woodland and heath – plus many fine views of the sea. Tom and Stuey joined me for a morning’s bird watching at Cley. It was nice to have their company. Unfortunately the weather was miserable and about our best bird was a little gull. However, we had a jolly time in the Wiveton Bell. Tom treated us to lunch and it was a happy, convivial occasion. I marvelled at Stuey’s appetite. On June 16th I finally met up with my former Debenham colleague, Peter Lincoln. He wanted to examine the Red Crag deposits in Suffolk as part of an M.Sc degree he is studying for. He thought I might know more about this early Pleistocene, fossiliferous sandstone than he did! It was certainly nice to do some fieldwork again! We looked at the Red Crag at Sutton and also at Bawdsey. I worked quite hard throughout the summer. I gave Bible studies fortnightly at our prayer meeting and one a month at Barton Mills. In addition to this I conducted three funerals: that of Rita Pask, Ken Hebditch and Eileen Coe. All were in their nineties and ready to go. Rita and Eileen were members of the church and Ken was a great help in keeping the graveyard tidy. I was sad to say goodbye to three people I had known almost all my life. I think all three services went well. God has always helped me thus far when I have conducted a funeral. I was pleased to see Jim Hebditch at Ken’s funeral. I used to enjoy watching him play football for Hartest. He specialised in wrapping his long, bony legs round the opposition. Jim was at pains to show me a letter my mother wrote him over 50 years ago. It must have meant a lot to him. I paid Peter and Olive another visit at Dovercourt. We had a meal at a hotel on the sea front. It was the best fish and chips I have had in years. I renewed my acquaintance with a boyhood favourite – rock salmon otherwise known as dog fish. In August I managed to persuade my brother Philip to come with me to Ipswich to visit our cousins. We were due to meet for coffee in Ann’s new flat. You needed an IQ of about 180 to actually find it –so Philip and I were under a bit of pressure. Philip was undoubtedly the star attraction as I knew he would be. Some unkind soul reading this might think: Well he didn’t have much competition. Also in August I had two new experiences. The first was a visit to Havergate Island with Richard and Carolyn Plowman. We had to take a short boat trip from Orford to this famous RSPB reserve. It was a wonderful place to see wading birds. We were delighted to see a sizeable group of spoonbill. It is also well known for its hares of which we saw several. We had an excellent meal in the Jolly Sailor before heading for home. A very happy day! The other new experience was that for the first time ever I fell out of bed. It left me totally disorientated. At the end of August I had an enjoyable day with Joseph and Elizabeth Hewitt. Joseph gave me an early invitation to his 85th birthday party to be held at Otley in March. I offered to make a little speech! Joseph shuddered at the prospect. Then he said, “I’ve specified in my will that you give a eulogy at my funeral.” I thought to myself that’s the story of my life. Keep the old boy tethered – and muzzled – just let him loose at funerals! I learned that an old pupil of mine who in his Geography lessons at Debenham School could barely string two sentences together had taken a degree in Building Construction. He is now a thoroughly successful business man. I could hardly believe it – a modern day miracle. It shows what motivation can do. It also shows the extent to which school teachers can fail. Autumn Once again I enjoyed my visit to Hastings to see my brother and his wife, Paul and Ruth, although the journey was something to be endured! On Sept 8th I had a happy time with Michael and Beccy and their children. I had a short civilised conversation with my great nephew, Joshua, before my great nieces kept me amused. Gracie went through her repertoire of exercises and dance moves. Phoebe took her time doing her homework, sparred with her mother and joined in the conversation on an occasional basis. Finally, proceedings were enlivened considerably by a one year old Labrador puppy – the pride and joy of absentee daughter Chloe. The puppy took a liking to my knuckles. What Tommy Bamber would have made of him I hate to think. On the Wednesday of my visit I went with Paul and Ruth to their church for a prayer meeting about a forthcoming Alpha Course. Paul gave me a flattering introduction. I really enjoyed chatting afterwards to some Christians who were actually younger than I was! Paul and I saw some exciting birds at Dungeness including two great white egrets, a ruff, a black necked grebe and a white winged black tern. The latter was a first for me. In September I had a blood test for prostate cancer. It didn’t indicate cancer but showed some impairment of kidney function. So the doctor told me to stop taking the anti-inflammatory tablets I have prescribed for gout. Within a week I had gout in the knee which spread to my ankle and then my big toe. My foot, ankle and lower leg were inflamed and swollen. So the doctor put me back on the anti-inflammatory tablets! These soon deadened the pain but the swelling has taken about a month to subside. A recent blood test has shown no malfunctioning of the kidneys. When you are a single man, can hardly walk and it is difficult to drive, you realise just how vulnerable you are. I had another rendezvous with an old pupil from Debenham before the gout set in. I met Francesca and we chatted for an hour and a half in the Abbey gardens. It was very pleasant sitting in the sunshine among the flower beds listening to Francesca’s ups and downs. She is even more devout than I am – which I realise some would say doesn’t take much doing. At the end of September I took the last prayer meeting before the spring. We had a happy time. Dear old Peter Chaffey loved it – really loved it. He sang with enormous gusto the three Sankey hymns I had chosen and made a beautiful prayer. He rejoiced in all God had done for him. His joy demonstrated the reality of his faith in, and love for, Jesus. It really touched my heart – I was both glad and sad. Peter has Alzheimer’s Disease and may not be well enough to attend the prayer meetings when we resume in March. I had trouble with my Sky remote control and so phoned up Mel Bugg a TV engineer and former resident of Brockley. I got his wife Dawn on the phone who in her youth was one of Brockley’s prettiest girls. We had a cheerful conversation. Mel came next day. There was no call out charge! He fixed my problem for a small sum. It is a pity there are not more tradesmen like him! Mel made me laugh. He told me Dawn calls him, ‘Mr Wait a Minute’. Why? Well because whenever she wants an odd job done Mel replies, “Wait a minute!” He helps innumerable old ladies and a few incompetent old men with their TVs but Dawn has to wait a minute. In October I was sorry to learn that my local post office was closing. I have been trying for about six years to get the black haired beauty behind the counter to smile. I have just begun to make progress. My irresistible charm was beginning to work its magic – and then she leaves to work in the town centre post office. I am distraught. I continue to work hard on my website. This year I produced a series of expositions on Exodus and 1Timothy. I am grateful to all those who contacted me with a few words of encouragement. I am also grateful to those who have shown me kindness and affection. God bless you and grant you his peace.
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