JR’s Annual Review: 2016.

Winter

Throughout the winter I battled to reduce the uric acid levels in my blood to bring my gout under control. Eventually the medication achieved the desired result. My doctor said with so much optimism, “You won’t have any more trouble with gout now Mr Reed.” I am afraid to say that all my joints are still subject to an attack but I can usually get rid of it with judicious use of an anti-inflammatory drug. When I told the consultant rheumatologist that notwithstanding his prescribed treatment my ankles remained badly swollen he said, “No one dies from swollen ankles.”

The rheumatologist referred me to the spinal unit at Ipswich hospital. In February I saw a surgeon about an operation. Mr Cumming told me that it would take a major operation to deal with my spinal stenosis. He gave the impression that if I wasn’t in too much pain I might be better carrying on as I was. So bearing in mind the risks the operation involves I decided to forego it. I don’t think the situation has deteriorated much during the last nine months.

Our chapel was nearly full for the united carol service. This was a lovely surprise. Mr Miller had managed to persuade several village youngsters to take part. Their attendance, along with friends and family, was very encouraging. I gave a little talk based on my shooting stick. I have to admit that my preaching was below par over the Christmas period.

On Christmas day I had a lovely meal with Philip, Sandra and the family. In the evening we played a silly game. A topic was chosen – like vegetables. Then one after another the participants had to give the name of a different vegetable: carrots, peas, onions, cabbages ....... and so on. However, you had to give the name without showing your teeth. You were eliminated if you either showed your teeth or could not think of a new vegetable. The game gave rise to much hilarity. Eventually the subject chosen was Christmas. Off we went: holly, Rudolph, reindeer, tinsel, turkey, .... . My turn came and I said, “Joseph.” Beccy, my lovely niece, snorted, “What’s Joseph got to do with Christmas?” Oh dear! Oh dear me!!

In early January I had a nice surprise. Janet, Philip’s former wife, turned up on my birthday with her husband and a lovely fruit cake. It was a fruit cake to rival my mother’s. People used to come from far and wide to our Good Friday services to sample my mother’s famous cake.

I did lots of bird watching during 2016 – well over 50 mornings out. Tommy Bamber and I were joined for most of the year by Stuart who is an old pupil of Toms and a fellow member of Brockley Cricket Club. Stuart has been a great asset as his eye sight is a lot better than ours. During the winter we were delighted to see two new birds for West Suffolk – a great northern diver and a glossy ibis. What excitement! Let me just tell you about our trip to Welney. Near Littleport we diverted down a drove leading into West Moor Fen to get a better view of Whooper Swans. A local farmer, Mr Murfitt, drew up in front of us in his land rover – anything to break the monotony of his morning! He told us the swans did no damage to his crops - unlike the widgeon that grazed a field of cereals bare. Tom was quite won over by this friendly farmer. Usually he has nothing but contempt for the landed gentry. The drove ended at an ivy-clad, ruined house with jackdaws nesting in the chimney. Atmospheric! After we got to Welney the best moment came when we were trying to decide whether a distant white blob was a plastic bag or little egret. A bird watching professional with a big, big telescope pronounced authoritatively, “It’s a plastic bag.” Just at that moment a white neck, head and beak appeared. This amused Tom who kept saying: “Look, that plastic bag is flapping it wings. Look, you’ll never believe it; the plastic bag has caught a fish.” The expert was slunk away!

Spring We have had one or two small encouragements at the chapel during the year. Our special Good Friday Service was well attended. Hannah, our soloist, sang sweetly and the Horham pastor, Adam Blowes, spoke well. It was nice to see several old friends of the Brockley fellowship. The number at our fortnightly Bible study has increased. Then, during the course of the year we have had some visitors from further afield. Peter Smith, who used to live in Brockley, comes with his family all the way from Baldock four times a year. His wife told me his visits make him very happy. It would be lovely if we could make some visitors from the village very happy!

On one occasion when I was preaching at Brockley I illustrated the deterioration that comes with age by referring to what happened when a lady phoned to tell me my dentist had moved to the Moreton Hall estate. I wanted to ask her what the postcode for the surgery was. But, could I think of the word – postcode? I spluttered, stammered – psst –scode –ossto ..... I got told off after the service. I performed so realistically one lady thought I was having a stroke and nearly rushed to my assistance. She did at least show more concern than the entire school at Debenham when I faked a heart attack during assembly and no one, no one at all, neither pupil nor staff, moved to give me mouth to mouth resuscitation.

My friend Mrs Haylock has bought and mastered the use of a tablet. She loves to find bargains at Waitrose and then to send me out to look for them. I am well known for being an easy going, good humoured chap but when I am scouring the shelves for cranberry macaroons I begin to froth at the mouth. By way of reward for being such a hunter down of bargains Dorothy invited me to a coffee morning. Somehow we let Dorothy’s gardener, Freda, get on to the subject of rams. She told us that in the mating season rams get penned up away from the ewes. This makes them almost wild with desire. (I know the feeling) Anyway, Freda said that such is their frustration they fight each other and on one occasion, so rampant was one ram’s raging lust, it tried to mate with her. No one was quite brave enough to say, “It must have been desperate!” – least of all Dorothy!

In May I had a lovely day. I went with Philip, Sandra and their youngest daughter, Ruth, to visit Beccy, Lee and their new baby daughter – Lydia – my great niece. Lydia was a little darling. She was good all day - with scarcely a whimper. It was a treat to hold her – a pretty, pink-cheeked, ginger-haired, precious thing. We had lunch at a pub by the river Ouse. It was delightful sitting out in the sun watching sand martins darting across the water and a great crested grebe busily fishing. In the afternoon we went to the walled courtyard of a hotel where Ruth’s friend Steve works. We had tea and scones. The sun beat down with such power I had to wear a serviette on my bald head – but then I am used to looking ridiculous.

On another day in May my friends and I heard six warblers at Lackford – garden, sedge, reed, willow, chettis and blackcap. I was particularly pleased to watch, as well as hear, the garden warbler singing. Its song is like the blackcap’s but faster and rippling.

My neighbour, who is blind, walked very tentatively and slowly down the road. I left my kitchen and offered her my arm. I walked her back to her house. She said, “I enjoyed that.” Not the usual reaction of a lady hanging on to my arm. It is usually born stoically out of necessity!

(3) Summer. In early June I went, as is my wont, for a six day break to North Norfolk. On Sunday I attended the Anglican Church in Sheringham and received the usual compliments on my singing! I was fortunate with the weather. One day as the sun set I was able to sit outside and listen to the late evening sounds: the rumble of a passing train, two tawny owls hooting, several blackbirds singing, a lot of pigeons cooing, a sheep bleating and a man who couldn’t stop sneezing. Romantic!

During the year I managed three walks of about a mile and a half. One was down a footpath to the east of Burnham Overy Staithe. It started as a track between tall hedges, descended to marsh meadows with scattered pools and ended at the mudflats of Burnham Overy creek. I was pleased to find the pale hairy buttercup. I would have missed it but for a tip off from my friend Hazel Cawston. A spoonbill was feeding in a little pond on the marshy pastures and avocet, Scheldt duck and black tailed godwit were scattered over the mudflats. I travelled back inland to the Wiveton Bell for lunch along very quiet roads through sparsely populated countryside.

It was good to have our Christian Brother, Mervyn Crawford, preaching at the chapel on June 26th. He looked so much better after successful treatment for leukaemia. He made laugh when talking about Esau the hairy man. Mervyn recalled the time he was laying on a beach next to his old friend Nev Peachy with his shirt open to expose a very hairy chest. Nev eventually moved away with the comment, “I ain’t laying next to an old sofa with its innards busting out.”

In June and July I went bird watching twice with Stuart, Tom being otherwise engaged. On the first occasion we managed to see 72 different bird species at our usual haunts in West Suffolk. These included three unusual birds Stuart spotted while travelling in the car: barn owl, red kite and raven. In July Stuart and I went to the East Coast estuaries. At Lower Melton we encountered a pretty young mother with her two small daughters. I might as well have been totally invisible such was the allure of Stuart. On the way home we stopped at Wyevale Garden centre for refreshments. On being offered the choice of a large, medium or small cup of coffee I opted for large. A mistake! The waitress brought me a bowl of coffee the size of my chamber pot. It left me as high as a kite and mega talkative for the remainder of the day and restless all night. My friends Dorothy Haylock and Dorothy Underwood must have wondered what hit them such was my garrulity.

In August I attended what might be the last reunion of the staff of the King Edward VI grammar school. Mr Robert Hay the organiser has since had a stroke and spent a long time in hospital. He is fortunate to have a loving daughter who will take care of him.

During my weekly shop at Waitrose I had the very unusual experience of bumping into three old cricket opponents: Malcolm Sykes, Ray Leeks and Terry Cockerton. The Leeks brothers of Nowton were bitter enemies of Brockley cricket team. We once bowled all of them out for a duck! But you would never have known it such was Ray’s desire to reminisce. I could barely shake him off. Terry could remember the occasion the opening batsman for Tuddenham hit LP, in-swing bowler extraordinary, into the river where the ball could not be found even after much searching. LP was distraught. He was given an old ball which he desperately tried to shine but with no success. He could no longer swing the ball and he retired from the fray to mutter in the outfield about conspiracy theories. What fun it all used to be. Nothing compares with it now!

(4) Autumn In early September I went with Tom and Stuart to a relatively new Suffolk Wildlife Trust Reserve. It took in the Black Bourne valley near Norton. We did the mile and a half circular walk. It was a distinctive landscape of ancient hedges, small woods, deep ditches and old, unimproved meadows on the valley floor – much as I can remember from my youth. We found another garden centre and sat down to fat currant buns with homemade jam and big cups of frothy, hot chocolate. Later in the month I did the West Stow country park walk with my friends John and Marion Skull. It was a boiling hot day. The sweat poured off me and my back ached – so with the exception of the company - the ramble could have been more enjoyable. On we went to the Risby Castle and Crown for a meal. There I sat down to a pint of shandy. Rarely have I enjoyed a drink more – it slid down reviving my flagging spirits.

I think I mentioned last year how much I enjoyed listening to Ireland West Music. I always perk up when the announcer says, “And now for the late, great, Joe Dolan.” I actually laugh for joy when he sings, “It’s you, it’s you, it’s you.” The song contains the line, ‘I’ve never been in love before.’ Joe sings it with such pathos and longing as to send shivers down my spine.

In October I hired two brothers to replace the pipes that take rainwater away from the house and the soak-a-ways to which they drain. They managed to get their digger through the back door of the garage with millimetres to spare. It was an education watching them operate the digger. I think they could have used it to scratch my back if I had asked them. They did a good job – refreshed by numerous cups of coffee.

This year I have paid many, many visits. Undoubtedly the saddest have been to see Mr Peter Chaffey who has declined rapidly with dementia and prostate cancer over the last couple of years. If anything shakes my faith it is the plight of Christians whom God has promised to protect, humiliated by dementia. However, Peter was well cared for and was granted a degree of peace until he passed away. It is a measure of Peter’s attractive personality that all of my brothers speak highly of him. Paul wrote to me: I feel I owe Peter and Edna a great deal spiritually. I have lots of happy memories of FOY and Peter’s bubbly, effervescent personality. His commitment to our Lord was also a great example to us.

My mother cajoled me into a ministry of visitation when I was about eighteen. She was herself a great visitor. Mother got me to visit Miss Ward and Mrs Ada Challis who were both in their eighties. I have been visiting the elderly ever since. However, I am getting to the age when it is about time some sweet young things came and visited me!!! I can hear my brother Philip, if he has read this far, saying, “In your dreams JR.”

All through October I read a daily account of Philip and Sandra’s adventures in Australia – numerous encounters with all kinds of wildlife – from leeches to the duck billed platypus, an endless succession of sandy bays and gorgeous sunsets, tropical rainforest and waterfalls of varying degrees of grandeur, idyllic evenings paddling in the softly lapping sea – and so on and so on. In the end I felt constrained to let Philip know about the highlights of MY week: a hedgehog in the garden and a haircut!

Well – that’s about it. I am grateful for the loyal support of those who attend our chapel, the hospitality of Christian friends, the few who express appreciation of my website and to God for his help thus far. I hope He will continue to keep me sane, safe and saved – AND you too. God bless you all – John.

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