I sometimes wonder as my life becomes increasingly uneventful to what extent these annual missives interest anyone! Perhaps they are a consolation to all those readers whose lives are as relatively mundane as mine!

As everyone living in England will remember December was a horribly cold, bleak and miserable month. For the second year in a row the weather was so bad the united carol service was cancelled. We did manage to have a Christmas Day service but the minor roads were still so treacherous that only a few attended. However on Dec 20th I had a walk in the West Stow woods and country park with John and Marion Skull on a day when the trees were covered in hoar frost. There were some magical scenes and the large lake in the park was covered in ice thick enough to walk over.

In the days leading up to Christmas my friend Arthur Rutterford at Barton Mills sent me a link to a website where a choir hidden among diners at a large supermarket cafe in Stockholm sang the Hallelujah chorus. It was wonderful.

I enjoyed Christmas Day with my brother Philip and all his family except his oldest daughter Rebecca – who I missed. I expect she will think I missed nipping her knees under the dining table! We had a lovely walk over Newmarket Heath where the sunset was magical – a riot of rose and gold. I ate well all day but when I got home suffered from chronic flatulence – the wind was gale force.

In early January my friend Tommy Bamber showed unaccustomed enthusiasm for doing a bird survey in appalling wet weather. It was the dreariest of days with the rain pouring down. Tom kept saying things like, “See two fieldfares – look, look – a flock of redwing.” I could see nothing but grey smudges – anything from flying saucers to a flock of starlings. The rain was in my eyes, pouring down my neck and penetrating my waterproofs. Only when the heavens opened in Chadacre Park did Tom give up. He summed up the morning as a “damp crotch day.” He was lucky that only his crotch was wet. However not all our bird watching days were like this and we did have wonderful views of a bittern at Lackford and the elusive hawfinch on Barnham Cross Common.

The 24th January was a red letter day. I took delivery of a new three piece suite. I think it is the first item of furniture I have bought since my mother died. The chairs and sofa are the colour of conkers, chunky, heavy and slippery. When I told my friend Dorothy Haylock that I would have to tie her down to stop her slipping off the sofa a strange gleam came into her eye. However, I have received much praise for the new suite from visitors who obviously hated the thread bare old one.

In February I had a phone call from an old colleague who told me the strange tale of a woman in his church 15 years his senior who keeps sidling up to him to say that she needs someone to help her with her womanly needs. I found this very amusing until he told me that he had pointed her in my direction!

Towards the end of February I walked with John and Marion across the heath from Thorpeness to Sizewell and back along the coast. Sadly not for the last time this year my back ached and I had to stop for rests. Every time I did so Marion said, “Poor old Bonzo!” This made feel a whole lot better.

I spend more time watching television than I did and reading thrillers. During the winter I read a series of great stories by the Italian crime writer Andrea Camilleri. They are tinged with humour.

I have reached that age when I compare notes with friends and family on various bodily ailments. My former colleague Dorothy and I swop irritable bowel stories! I was amused by my friend KB’s account of the biopsy on his prostate. The consultant said there was no evidence of cancer but he might need to be investigated again. KB replied, “I don’t think so Doctor – you took 16 snips – snickety snick – and I counted every b***** one.”

I think my biggest treat in spring was the lovely day in March when I joined my brother Philip and his wife to visit my niece Beccy in Ely. We had a walk past the cathedral and along the Ouse to some flooded gravel pits. During the walk we saw a sparrow hawk take a collared dove and drag it under a parked car. The feathers fairly flew. Surprisingly, the dove escaped and high tailed it pursued at a furious lick by the hawk. We never did see the final outcome. On our way back to Beccy’s we stopped for a drink at an old, shabby, inner city pub which we took in the dilapidated, long, sunken garden. Beccy got us an excellent meal that included a huge fish pie, homemade bread rolls, apple tart and custard. Both Beccy and her partner Lee experience considerable success as artists.

There are so many uplifting sights and sounds in spring – especially the gorgeous spring we had this year. In April I took a walk in Bradfield woods. The trees were just coming into leaf, the birds were singing and all sorts of wildflower were in bloom: oxslip, wood sorrel, early purple orchid, twayblade, ransoms and bluebell. It was a privilege to be there! Tommy Bamber and I had a few exciting moments. We saw a huge eagle owl on the roof of Ampton Hall. It was like a great, grey cat. There was a silver birch tree in Tassel Road in Bury full of waxwings. It is the first time I have seen them properly with their crests and black moustaches. Four common sandpipers skittering over the lake at Livermere and a flamingo at Minsmere added to our pleasure. Even the sound of a blackbird singing from its perch on my TV aerial as I watered the garden on a balmy, still, May evening made life worth the living.

In mid-April I umpired my last hockey match of the season. Bury Veterans played the Bury Ladies in an excellent game. It made a welcome change to be surrounded by loose-limbed, athletic young ladies rather than the usual gnarled and knotted veterans wondering where their next breath was coming from.

Once again I was a spectator at the Brockley Cricket Club matches. They were not without entertainment value. On May 28th with one over to go Ipswich and East Suffolk with nine wickets down needed one run to win off the last six balls. All the Brockley cricketers were clustered round the bat to save the single except Dean Sykes who remained nonchalantly in the outfield at deep long on. I yelled at him, “You won’t do any good standing there.” The third ball of the last over was a little slower and the Ipswich and East Suffolk batsman smacked it high and true straight to Dean Sykes. Match tied, Dean Sykes triumphant and JR confounded – not for the first time – but I sincerely hope for the last!

My friend and former colleague, John Tyers, made me smile when he told me about an old man who attended his chapel whose hobby was to grow tomatoes. He reckoned he obtained excellent results by urinating on them. That’s not exactly the word he used! The man never could understand why the ladies in the church turned down his offers of tomatoes.

I had over 200 users of my website a day by May. One of the things that is, perhaps, not evident from these annual letters is the hours I spend studying, adding to my website, preaching and the like. I found it hard going preparing a series of expositions on 2 Corinthians – but not unrewarding!

Summer was as eventful as spring was lacking incident. In early June I took my old friends and colleagues from Debenham High School – Es and Ros – out for lunch. Ros made me laugh reminiscing about one of our former pupils called Glen. Whenever she passed him as he waited for the bus he would acknowledge her by raising a finger – just one finger – so typical of a real old Suffolk boy. On one occasion Es asked the same Glen to carry her bag to the staff room. He agreed until he discovered the outside was decorated with flowers. He couldn’t be seen carrying a sissy bag. He had his pride!

In June I recommenced rolling the Brockley cricket pitch on Friday evenings after clearing up a misunderstanding with the groundsman. One evening I managed to run over a little girl’s bicycle which afforded everyone except me – and the little girl – much amusement. On another occasion I was entertained by the same little girl and her friend chasing a rabbit that they very nearly caught. I think it was slowed down by myxomatosis. Nothing slowed those little girls down!

On June 9th I enjoyed visiting my aunty Olive and cousin Andrew in Teddington. We had lovely walks in Richmond Park around both the Isabella Plantation and Pen Ponds. It was good to see them both.

I went camping again in North Norfolk. I couldn’t get on my usual camp site and ended up on a small, quiet, primitive one in Weybourne. It suited me. I didn’t worry about the lack of hot showers! During my holiday I had rain, wind (the sort that blows), gout and back ache. By far the worse affliction was the back ache that makes any long walk something of an ordeal. But there were a lot of things I enjoyed: the swallows flying low along the coastal path at Stiffkey like jet fighters, the small choir singing beautifully at a Taize service in Sheringham church, the scene at the Sheringham sea front on Sunday evening with the golden light of the setting sun shimmered across a quiet sea, the manageress of the hotel at Holkham Gap who was gloriously chic in a grey dress, a lovely meal in the pub at Wiveton and the milk and eggs that two campers left in my tent when they finished their holiday and went home. It was my last camping holiday – too much pain!

On July 3rd I missed going to church for the first time in 50 years. (Except when visiting Japan) I spent Sunday on a starvation diet and evacuating my bowels frequently and violently in preparation for a barium enema next day. The strange thing was I didn’t feel hungry and realised that fasting does actually sharpen the mind. I cannot say anything positive about the bowel evacuations! On Monday I had the enema. The two radiologists were friendly, helpful and solicitous of my well fare. However one of them found it very difficult to inject me. She reckoned my veins were wobbly. I began to feel wobbly after her fourth attempt to get the needle in. Then when it came to shooting the barium sulphate up my back passage much of it went over my buttocks! Perhaps it was because I didn’t clench my buttocks as told. I am not used to clenching my buttocks on command. Anyway, the enema didn’t show up any abnormalities of the bowel although according to the consultant it didn’t work as well as he would have liked – I could have told him why!

Peter Chaffey made me laugh with one of his stories. Many years ago there used to be an itinerant preacher who took services at Glemsford. Between the morning and afternoon service most members of the congregation had a packed lunch – but they never provided one for the preacher. So next time the man preached he brought his own in a bright red bag which he took into the pulpit with him and placed on the lectern. To emphasise the main points of his sermon he would put his hand on the red bag with a dramatic flourish and say, “As surely as my dinners in this red bag ...... .” I hope his hearers got the message!

At the end of July I attended my old pupil, Lizzy Gooderum’s, wedding. I was very pleased she had such a happy day after all she has been through. It was a rare treat for me to meet up with several of my old pupils from Debenham. I was especially pleased to chat to the slim and sexy Emma who was a fountain of information.

In August I gave myself a little treat. I travelled out to Edwardstone along narrow, winding, single carriage roads through countryside not typical of Suffolk – rolling, wooded with numerous small fields – to look for the cut-leafed teasel. It was worth the effort; it is a very tall, impressive teasel with large pale flowers and distinctive leaves.

In early September I visited Paul and Ruth in Hastings. On the 6th Paul, his thirteen year old grandson, Joshua, and I ventured out to Rye harbour in the hope of doing some bird watching. The wind was ferocious. It nearly blew me away. Joshua loved it. Next day Paul and I did a really wonderful walk around Rye. I was amused to spot a female market gardener urinating amongst her potatoes exposing bare buttocks for all to see. It was like something out of an Emile Zola novel. Some of you might think there is too much about urinating in this letter! And backache, come to that! In the evening I had a really lovely time with my nephew Michael and his wife and children. It is not often I have some sweet young giggly things to tease these days.

In October I went to the funeral of my old colleague Alan Mattock. I had been out to dinner with him three or four times during the year. He told me that on an appointment to see his lady doctor she asked him which among his various problems gave him most trouble. Alan replied, “Well to tell you the truth, doctor, my biggest problem is loneliness.” The young and singularly attractive doctor replied, “Well Mr Mattock I am happy for you to make an appointment every week to come in for a chat.” So he did. The thoughtfulness of that doctor strongly appealed to me. I was pleased to talk to Alan’s children after the funeral – two of whom I taught.

John Rushbrook, a local farmer, used a good illustration in a sermon he preached at Brockley. He never looked forward to cleaning the combine harvester in the winter. It was a filthy job. Dust got everywhere. But John said, “After a while you get used to it – you get used to the dirt.” How easy it is to grow accustomed to the dirt.

In October I walked with John and Marion Skull around Southwold. I ended up with an aching back, blistered toes and a strained calf muscle – a total wreck – it’s pathetic. My days of long walks are nearly over. The calf muscle in particular is taking a long time to properly heal. I was very grateful to Richard Plowman for giving me a shooting stick which is a real asset when I go bird watching.

My brother Peter came to stay in mid-October. He brought with him a throat infection that I caught but otherwise we had a good time. It was particularly enjoyable to meet up with Philip and his family in Newmarket –to have an excellent supper and much good humoured conversation.

I was pleased to attend the final Commemorative Assembly of Mr Crawshaw the headmaster of Debenham in November. He can contemplate retirement with the satisfaction of a job well done. The school has grown from 280 pupils when he arrived to nearer 650 now. I was really cheered to receive a very warm welcome from my former colleagues.

I have had several encouraging emails about my website this year – although none from Grace Baptists! The one I enjoyed most was the single word comment on an exposition in Acts: ‘Beautiful.’

Towards the end of November I had a rare treat. Two of my old grammar school girls asked me out to tea. I hadn't seen one of them, Fiona, for 40 years. Both she and Patricia had changed little in personality. What clever girls they were and what a great pleasure just for a little while to be among fans!

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