It was not a very cheery winter! It was a season of hospital visits, deaths and funerals. Some of the hospital calls were to the dying and dying can be an uncomfortable and distressing process. I did find the visit to my old colleague in Ipswich hospital, Miss Arnall, an uplifting experience because she was so cheerful in the face of adversity. In spite of losing much of her sight due a brain aneurysm Ros looked on the bright side - something she habitually did as a teacher. She said that while waiting for her operation it was some consolation to sing quietly to herself the Debenham High School hymn:

Father, hear the prayer we offer:
Not for ease that prayer shall be
But for strength, that we may ever
Live our lives courageously.

I conducted the funerals of three old friends after Christmas: John Clarkson, George Hartley and Ivy Boreham. George and Ivy were members of the church and we still miss them. I know that our small church meant a great deal to them and I am very glad that we played some part in preparing George and Ivy for that joyful day when they will meet with Jesus face to face. John Clarkson was for many years our neighbour and a good, loyal friend of the family.

I prepared the Brockley Cricket Club accounts in February. This has been an annual chore for nearly 30 years. On this my last year as Treasurer I had a big deficit and in spite of 7 hours work could not find where it had gone to. I was so glad to hand this job over at the annual meeting to Dean Sykes.

I did have a nice Christmas Day. I was so pleased to see my friends Dean and Carolyn at our morning service - it gave me a rare stab of joy. I thoroughly enjoyed my lunch courtesy of my brother Philip and his wife Sandra. Finally I conducted the evening meeting for the folk at Barton Mills. During supper with Arthur Rutterford and his family we got onto the subject of kissing toes. I have to say that the fair Hannah did not afford me a final treat of the day in spite of it being Christmas.

Tommy Bamber and I kept our bird watching up on what seemed to be a succession of cold and miserable Fridays. On February 24th, with a bitter northeasterly blowing, he must have said all of 7 times: "This weather is freezing my bollocks off."

I had one or two laughs to lighten the winter gloom. John Eley rashly told me of the day he went with the Ipswich Naturalists on a walk around the Dingle Marshes in his Wellingtons - a mistake as he couldn't stand up and kept falling over. He was so plastered in mud his wife, Janet, made him take off his trousers and drove him home in his underpants. Unfortunately she got quite overcome with desire, she says cramp, and had to get out of the car for some fresh air. When a lady stopped to offer assistance Janet made a miraculous recovery and bolted to the car. She wasn't going to share her husband's bare legs with anyone!

My friend Peter Chaffey told a tale about old Mr Sparrow who attended the church at Wetherden. The members were discussing the pastorate in a business meeting. Mr Sparrow favoured a Mr Moss. He finally got up and said, "Mr Moss would do for us but he h'aint high enough in the boughs for some of you." His daughter was tugging at his jacket saying, "Sit down father. Sit down for goodness sake." It cracked Peter up!

In some ways spring saw a continuation of the woes of winter. During March I visited another dear old friend, Henry Underwood, in hospital. It was sad to watch him decline. He found it difficult to speak but there were little flashes of the old Henry and his smile remained the same. His death in April was a great personal loss. Henry was a good man. People always felt the better for his company. He was a splendid testimony to God's wondrous grace. Miss Kilpatrick my old biology teacher also died in April just a few days before I was due to take her out to lunch. I was much amused by a speech John Otley, an old pupil, made in honour of Miss K. On one occasion he asked why she was called Kate by her students. After a moments pause she replied in her gruff voice, "Well, it rhymes with 'hate'".

On my numerous visits to West Suffolk hospital it was a great pleasure to encounter nurse Helen Boulton, a former Debenham High School pupil. She regularly gave me a hug and a kiss which always made me feel a lot, lot better.

For a month during late March and early April I suffered from an inflamed tendon in the right knee. It was so painful for a few days that I couldn't drive. Just as it began to get better I caught winter vomiting sickness from Tommy Bamber. One Friday I got into the car and Tommy, the bad and wicked one, said, "I hope you don't catch what I have had this week." I did - off him! I reckon I could have vomited from one side of the room to the other so violent was the sickness. There is nothing like a few sessions on your knees retching into the WC to cut you down to size. When I saw Tommy in Waitrose and thanked him for his Easter present his mirth was uncontrollable. If ever I get leprosy Tommy had better watch out.

I finally finished my series of expositions on John's gospel at the end of March. On the whole I was pleased with them! However, I had very little feed back on my website for the first six months of the year.

Once March ended I was out and about a lot. One morning in early April I had to go to the Brockley Cricket Club ground and shining brightly in the outfield was a flock of golden plover. I could see their small heads and tiny black eyes so clearly. Also in April I went to Alton reservoir for a walk and on a lovely grassy slope, dropping away from the dam, illuminated by the finest, clearest light, was a mixed flock of 40 pied wagtails, 3 yellow wagtails and 15 meadow pipits. The yellow wagtails were absolutely stunning - so yellow that they seemed almost unreal.

I also enjoyed some excellent walks. On a fine spring morning I walked with John and Marion Skull from East Bridge to Dunwich. It was lovely. The gorse was at its brightest and best, the sturdy, green Alexanders was almost out and the birds were singing for joy. On Dunwich cliffs I saw five spoonbills flying north - an exciting sight. Early evening late in May as I finished a walk in the Wood Ditton area of Cambridgeshire it was so beautiful I almost wept. The combination of blue sky, fresh green leaves of spring, splashes of hawthorn blossom and birdsong was such a tribute to God's goodness. It was not the first time I have found this ramble particularly uplifting.

On May 2nd I began my 48th season with Brockley Cricket club. I was flattered to be ask to play for the first team as a specialist wicket keeper but after due consideration chickened out. I was apprehensive about my fitness - my knee, my back and my stamina! Still I enjoyed playing with the youngsters on Wednesday evenings.

Activities in summer are varied and numerous. In June I played probably my last game for the first eleven at Whitton. It was a gorgeous afternoon - ideal for cricket. Brockley did not cover themselves in glory but I enjoyed it. I thought the opposition were amiable. No-one took the micky out of my age or battered trilby. Imagine my surprise when nephew Joe disagreed, "I didn't like them JR. They were horrible." Joe hates any team that resoundingly beats Brockley.

My cousin Margaret lost her husband in June. David died after a long battle with cancer. It is a pity that he did not enjoy a longer, much deserved, retirement from the police force. When I told Margaret that she looked in better health than the last time I saw her despite her ordeal she just pointed upwards.

I have read a lot this year - about 4 books a month. I thought, 'A Month in the Country', by J.L.Carr was wonderful. It is a very slim novel about a damaged survivor of the First World War who spends a summer uncovering a huge medieval wall painting in a village church. It was very evocative of rural life in the 1920's. The book describes an idyllic interlude that could never be recaptured; a lovely experience but something lost. I was reminded that the best times of my life can never be relived - they have gone forever. In the words of James: What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.

I have given quite a number of talks on Japan since my visit 5 years ago. Mid summer I held forth to the Woman's Guild in the Oddfellows Hall, Bury St Edmunds. I waxed lyrical about the Japanese ladies saying how much it boosted my ego to have charming, gracious women hanging on to my every word. At this point a formidable female sitting near the front said in a gruff voice, "What do you think we are doing this afternoon then?" She must have been a retired PE teacher!

In July Tommy Bamber and I took Japanese visitor Shiho out for the day - Sutton Hoo, Orford and Framlingham castle. In the payment kiosk at Framlingham castle was Madeleine, a former Debenham High School pupil. Tommy was delighted to accost one of my old students and began to commiserate with her: "You poor thing. Fancy having to put up with him for 5 years! I hope he didn't tickle you." And so on. I looked at my pupil and said, "You tell him, Madeleine." She responded, "Mr Reed was brilliant." Then she turned to Tommy and said, "Mr Reed can go in free but you can pay." It is not often my friend is rendered speechless! Madeleine's testimonial - whether deserved or not - made me happy for days!

Another of my former pupils, Emma, invited me to tea before the service I was due to conduct at Mickfield. I was much taken by her 4 year old, Chloe, who attended the evening meeting and behaved very well. So before leaving I accosted Chloe and said, "You've been a good girl. Would you like a farewell kiss?" Chloe simply replied, "Urrrgh!". Another in a long line of rejections!

A bird watching session with Tommy was enlivened one morning at Minsmere by a case of 'hide rage.' My friend, in his kindly way, was giving an elderly couple from the North the benefit of his expertise when a testy voice said, "Will you please by quiet. I can't hear the bird's sing." On the way home Tommy kept saying, "That bloke in the hide - wasn't he a pillock!" or words to that effect.

In the summer I actually put up new curtains. I bought a coiled curtain rail. Never do that! I spent about 2 hours trying to uncoil it. It was like wrestling with a demented python.

What a splendid mellow season. I was blessed with fine weather during my last visit to my brother Paul and his wife Ruth in Clapham. Paul and I walked along the Grand Union Canal from Kensal Street to Little Venice and then along the Regents Park Canal to Camden Lock and Kings Cross. It was an interesting and attractive walk with lots to see. The canal was not without its disturbing aspects: solitary, sad, old men slumped on benches, groups of derelicts hunched over cans of lager or fiddling with syringes, a sprawling skinny man scratching his scabby legs and gangs of noisy, truculent, black youths. Others enjoyed themselves: pretty girls sunning their legs, a lady swimming her dog and numerous cyclists - none of whom seemed to have bells on their bicycles.

In October I went to the 21st birthday party of Ashley - another pupil of Debenham School. Ashley, her mum and brothers were pleased to see me. However, the same could not be said of one or two other old students I encountered at the event. One girl, and, perhaps, I had better not describe her comely form too accurately, got her trainers covered with mud on her first field trip to Walton on the Naze. I can see her now, red in the face and breathing imprecations, mired in the London Clay. She told me: "Never went on any more of your old field trips. Best thing about Geography lessons were the polo mints I pinched from your draw when you were in the cupboard." She looked as if she'd eaten a fair number of polo mints since! Any way I left Ashley's party a bit depressed!

At the end of October I attended Sarah and Dan's wedding. This was a very happy event. It was a very rare occasion for me because, perforce, I stopped to the disco. What was even more remarkable, I let myself be persuaded by two strong willed ladies from the chapel to dance! Well not really dance but at least jig around. I jigged around to such effect that I was totally knackered and had to swig my asthma inhaler. Since then I have walked briskly every day for at least an hour to get fitter!

One Sunday evening Peter Webb, our resident gardener, told me of the occasion one of his daughters came home from school with a question from her teacher for father. He couldn't answer it. Peter said, "So I sent her back a question: How many yards of smoke d'ya git from burning a bushel of soot? I never got no reply."

In November I attended the farewell service of my brother Paul and his wife, Ruth, to celebrate their retirement from 32 years in the ministry at Courland Grove, Clapham. It was a very uplifting service. The mutual love that existed between Paul and Ruth and the church was very evident. One of the strongest testimonies to their ministry was the presence of alcoholic Archie in the congregation - in his best suit and sober - for the best part of an hour and three quarters. I am glad that Paul and Ruth made a good ending - something some of us never aspired to.

At the end of November I had a big treat. My friends John and Marion Skull took up the offer of free accommodation in the Lake District for a week and invited me along to share it with them. We had a lovely holiday. The scenery was tremendous. I appreciated being waited on - for the first time since my mother died - and the prayer sessions we had in the mornings. I also enjoyed watching John try to photograph his wife beside the Aira falls. The technology was beyond him. After a series of abortive attempts he managed to take the same photograph four times. His excuse: "Marion won't let me get my hands on the camera except when she wants to be photographed." Still, I am sure he counts his wife among his greatest blessings. We considered our holiday exemplified the words of James: Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the father of lights. Jms1v17.

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