JR'S ANNUAL LETTER : 2005

WINTER

Every year before Christmas I go to Beyton nursery to buy some pot plants for my lady friends at Brockley chapel. I give them really in memory of my parents. The characteristic warm and fecund smell in a heated greenhouse always brings back memories of my grandfather's market garden in Ipswich. I usually see Anne, with whom I went to school at Whepstead, who unlike her husband always drives a hard bargain. Imagine my surprise when during my customary banter with her sister who presides at a Marks and Spencer's till I learned that Beyton nursery had closed. Where shall I go this year?

Christmas was a very busy period for me. I gave three Christmas addresses at Brockley and one at Barton Mills. I rather blotted my copybook on Boxing Day by telling the story of Mrs Haylock and the onion tart at the dinner table of Carolyn and Richard Plowman. At the Red Lion in Melford I ordered pork in pastry and Mrs Haylock ordered onion tart. Somehow our orders got muddled up and I found myself eating the onion tart. Having started it I thought I had better finish it. I will never have onion tart again - it made me fart for a fortnight. My vulgar turn of phrase convulsed Simon, my host's son, who turned purple and laughed for 5 minutes.

In January I entertained Mr Takeda the leader of several Japanese visitors from Fukushima. I cooked him a different fish for breakfast each day. He thought that kipper was the best English food. On January 6th I had a rare treat - I went with the Japanese to the pantomime at the Theatre Royal. It was my first visit to the theatre since I was 16 and went with my school to see Pygmalion at Colchester. The pantomime was 'Beauty and the Beast' with plenty of slapstick humour, broad comedy, singing and dancing. One little girl of 7 got so involved trying to direct the wicked wizard to the jester that she nearly fell out of the balcony. Her animated if strident performance was if anything more entertaining than the pantomime itself. I need to give myself a few more treats!!

I had one or two other entertaining moments in the February. One day I went out to buy a fire extinguisher for the chapel. My search took me to the dilapidated Newlands industrial estate just outside Bury St Edmunds. It is the sort of place you find tethered Alsatians (tethered if you are lucky!) and gypsy gentlemen. I had hardly got out of the car when I heard shouts of, "Look out! Here comes danger. Hide - there's a maniac about." Standing in the entrance of a garage was mechanic Paul Cailles and ace villain of sawn off shotgun fame, Colin Crouch - two adversaries from my days at the County Upper School. Colin claims that he saved my teaching career the day he ducked my right hook. I rarely look back on my teaching career with much satisfaction.

Another entertaining moment occurred after the evening service one Sunday at Brockley. The lovely Viv could not unlock her car door. Her father stood by looking pensive - wishing he had come to chapel on his motorbike. Eventually Viv got a back door open and crawled in to her car. I looked at Peter and said, "If you get in that car there's no guarantee you'll ever get out again." He gave me a pitying look and said slowly, "I'll get out bor, you don't need to worry yar head about that."

In January I had a wonderful morning in the Trimley Marshes. The light was scintillating - cold and crystal clear. The wide marsh meadows were covered with birds including 7 different species of goose. The little group of wild white snow geese was magnificent.

Spring

As my readers know I usually go bird watching with my friend Tommy Bamber. We have been very unlucky with the weather this year. In March we set off on our usual Friday jaunt in a blizzard. At our first destination - Lackford lakes - we could not see anything through the heavy snowfall. Things were better at the end of spring when we travelled to North Creek in Norfolk to see the Montagu's Harrier. Two were nesting in a field of rape. We had tremendous views of a Montagu's Harrier being mobbed by two Marsh Harriers - it is one of those bird watching moments that I will never forget. And there was for me an isolated amusing moment. One Friday we had a guest - a teaching acquaintance of Tommy's. Martin, a dreamy mystical man, volunteered to take his car. The track we asked him to drive down on Cavenham Heath is undulating to say the least. Martin didn't fancy it; he drew up sharply. Tommy said, "We usually go on a bit further." Martin said, "You can walk." This remark was greeted by stony silence. I found it difficult not to laugh because I knew Martin would never be asked to accompany us again. Whenever we reach the spot on Cavenham Heath that Martin stopped Tommy says, "You can walk."

In April I played my last game of hockey against Ipswich and lost five nil. I decided very reluctantly to give up. I was pleased that George, with whom I have played for 30 years, and Dean who I introduced to veterans hockey tried to persuade me to continue. It is nice to be wanted - not something I have been over conscious of in my life to date! However, I am sure I made the right decision. I was too slow. The team have started the new season a lot better without me. So now I umpire. After a lifetime of chuntering and muttering at the umpires I am now on the receiving end!

The cricket season started without the prospect of any competitive Saturday matches. Our second and third teams now play all their matches on Sunday. This is a development that does not please me. I am too old and not really good enough now for the first eleven. However I enjoyed some mid week games. It was lovely playing down in the Stour valley at Thurlow on an April's evening. The setting was green and verdant and the house martins flying high overhead gleamed in the sunshine. In the middle of May I had a game for the first team and bought what might well be my last jug of beer for getting three stumpings off the bowling of my nephew Joe. Brockley also managed to win off the last ball of the match - which our burly captain hit for four. It wasn't really necessary for Ruth to enliven proceedings with a large rubber breast sporting a prominent nipple that she had bought back from a Mediterranean cruise for the delectation of her brothers. Why she thought her uncle John would be pleased to see it is beyond me.

I had one or two mishaps in the spring - a leaking central heating pipe, a car engine that would not stop when I turned off the ignition and a couple of visitors who found the locking system of my front door too much for them. My friend John Eley and his good wife came for Sunday tea. John was due to take the evening service at Brockley. I had to leave early to pick up an elderly member of our congregation. I told John how to lock the door. He locked it before he closed it and then could neither unlock nor close the door. He didn't like to leave with the door open and so was stranded at my house when he should have been in the pulpit conducting our service. John's agitation was only exceeded by that of his wife. He got to Brockley chapel eventually.

I greatly enjoyed a visit from my cousin Bernard (uncle Steven's son) in March. We talked non-stop from 4pm till 12.30am - like true members of the Hughes family. One thing he said that struck me forcibly was that the Hughes's were not good at hiding their feelings. This was true of my mother and his father - and me. It is been a handicap.

Summer.

In early June Mr and Mrs Segawa and ShiHo from Ebutso in Northern Japan visited Bury St Edmunds with 4 of their students. I took the five younger ladies punting on the river Cam. Needless to say I did not do the punting. It was very pleasant gliding through the green water and holding court with ShiHo, the principle of Mr and Mrs Segawa's English school in Ebutso. Mr and Mrs Segawa were very kind to Tommy Bamber and myself when we visited Japan and so after coffee, strawberries and cream on Tom's lawn we went to the Angel Hotel for a slap up meal. Mrs Segawa is an amazing lady. She is a slim, petite, happy, sparkling 75 year old who looks about 50. When she met Mr Segawa and fell in love it was, in her words, like falling into a hole. ShiHo, amongst others, is still waiting to fall into this hole!

Cricket provided me with some happy moments during the summer. It was lovely sitting on our new veranda on a balmy evening watching the sunset and listening to the swifts squealing as they circled the distant church tower. One evening I stumped with unbridled joy a very old adversary called Richie Baker who was guesting for Haverhill in a mid week game. On the hottest day of the year I played in a veterans match at Worlington and after keeping wicket for 45 overs scored 40 not out in no time at all. It was the only batting flashback of the entire summer. Next day I was a wreck - my toe, hips and legs ached - I could hardly stagger up town to do some shopping. Late in the season after a friendly against a London side called Tambourines we had Indian cuisine provided at the clubhouse. It was Ricky Meekings first and probably last experience of curry. I have never seen anyone look so hot. I thought he might explode. So did Ricky and he swallowed three pints of water in rapid succession to quench the raging fire within. Brockley CC had a good season and the first team won Two Counties League Division 3.

In July I had a camping holiday in North Norfolk. I arrived in torrential rain. I had to put my tent up in the rain and it got soaked through and then leaked and leaked. So I spent the first 10 hours laying on my camp bed mopping up water. At midnight the campsite was a sheet of water. Next morning I was awoken at about 5am by the cawing rooks strutting about just outside my tent. Each morning I was aroused either by the rooks or a toddler from hell who wanted to get up from about 5.45am and grizzled till he got his way. The torrential rain meant many footpaths in the Broads area where I walked were underwater. I have never had to wade through knee-deep water to complete a walk before. When the rain stopped a north easterly blew fog in from the North Sea. On one memorable night when it was clear over the sea the cloud still poured in over the land. As the sun set it looked as if the sea was on fire sending billows of smoke landward. After my back stopped aching I enjoyed the last week of my holiday. I was very pleased to find several new flowers. During the spring and summer I received some emails from a lonely lady. My hopes rose! When I asked her if she would enjoy a holiday spent in her Wellington boots searching Beeston Bog for sundew and the bog pimpernel I never heard from her again.

I did get a flurry of appreciative emails about my website in the summer. This is what one lady from Australia wrote: I was surfing the web to see what came up on the "Generous spirit," and I came across your article, which really blessed me, thank you. The Lord really encouraged and spoke to me through your teaching, it was like "oil poured forth" upon my heart. I am very grateful for a few words of encouragement like this because I spend hours and hours and hours writing for my 'Christian Expositions' website and I don't get much feed back from Grace Baptists!

Autumn

It has been a lovely autumn and I am glad to have been out and about. It is always a real treat for me to spend a few days with my brother Paul and his wife, Ruth, in Clapham. I am happy in the company of my family. I had a day with my Auntie Olive and cousin Andrew. We had lunch in Richmond Park and then had a walk in Isabella Plantation among the rhododendron bushes and small ponds. On my way from Richmond to Clapham a nice little black girl helped me read the bus timetable and made sure I got off at the right spot. Sometimes the grin I inherited from my father works wonders. Next day I had a great ten-mile ramble along the river Thames from Richmond to Wandsworth with Paul. We saw lots of birds, discovered Hogarth's tomb and were charmed by the public gardens and parks along the way. There are numerous places to stop for coffee, lunch and beer and all provide an opportunity to chat up the waitresses. I spent the last day of my visit with my brother Peter. We had baguettes in a pub in Mickleham and then walked up Burford Spur to Box Hill. It was a grand day - just right for taking in the views over the Weald of Kent. Peter and I went to the information centre on Box Hill where I bought a map of the area. This made me feel a lot better and Peter a lot worse. He is just like my friends Tommy Bamber and Dean Sykes - he doesn't trust me with a map. However Peter need not have worried! I used the map to navigate along the River Mole into Dorking. It was good to see Olive, Peter's wife, Samantha his daughter and her husband.

I was sad to attend the funeral of Mick my cousin Hilda's husband in September. He was only 59 when he died suddenly. It was a sorrowful occasion because Mick was such a useful and helpful man. He provided practical assistance for his extended family, friends and his church and so will be sorely missed.

It would be wrong to think I spend all my time out and about. Far from it! I spend a lot of time reading, studying, preparing sermons and writing. I have learned a lot from reading the biographies of Florence Nightingale, Bruce the pale Abyssinian, William Booth and Dr Johnson. I loved Alexander McCall Smith's, 'No 1 Ladies Detective Agency' and the sequels - all set in Botswana - about a jolly, plump, black lady private detective.

I have not written much as yet about the church at Brockley. This occupies much of my time. We have been disappointed by the departure of two who promised to be such a great help this time last year. They disagreed with our church's policy of using a lady deaconess to serve at communion amongst other things. It is very sad to see our declining membership getting older and older. Ten of our fourteen members are over 80 and most of them have been ill or incapacitated during the course of the last 12 months. I get a lot of pleasure visiting my elderly friends. I play a fiercely contested game of Scrabble each week with Dorothy and Edward Underwood. I never spend an afternoon with Henry and Jesse Underwood without feeling the better for it. The last time I saw Mrs Dorothy Boreham, who is pretty well confined to her room now, I asked, "Don't you get fed up sitting here all day." She replied, "No, I am quite content, I'm very happy as I am." And she was - godliness with contentment is great gain. Recently I phoned up George about his prostate trouble and gave him news of others who were far from well. George said, "The trouble is we are all getting old John." I responded, "There's not much we can do about that, George." "No," he said, "And it is just as well we can't. If we were in charge we would be sure to mess it up."

A verse for all my Christian readers: Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another . Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity. Col3v13.

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