Monthly Archives: January 2009

Z may have to Accost an Intruder

I think we may have a lodger at the church. It occurred to me, after I’d written yesterday’s post, that I might – incredible as it seems – be an awful idiot and, while thinking I’d set Saturday night’s heating at 7pm-7pm (that is, not to come on at all) I might have put it to 7pm-7am, without noticing. So I went to check. I’d turned it to ‘off’ rather than ‘timer’ yesterday, so I knew it wouldn’t have been on even if I’d been really silly.

But it had. I could feel the warmth as soon as I walked in, although it snowed last night and has been very cold all day. I touched the pipes and they were warm. Now, the thing is, the matter of the door being unlocked could have been a red herring. There’s someone who goes in the church on a Friday or Saturday evening, no doubt for a quite legitimate purpose, who has access to the keys but who leaves the big doors unlocked. I haven’t been able to find out who. But, and keep this under your hats please, there is a way of circumventing the lock and opening the door anyway (there won’t be for much longer or I wouldn’t write it down at all) and so it’s quite possible that the person leaving the door unlocked and the person turning the boiler on are not one and the same. The only reason I can see for having the heating on overnight regularly is to warm the church to sleep in.

Yes, I’ve told the Fellow (or rather, as he’s at work, his wife). And I’ve told the Sage. And I will go down tonight and check it out, but not on my own. I’m not timorous but I’m not incautious either. Actually, I suspect the Fellow will insist on going – though I’ve asked his wife that he should not go alone either.

And you know, I feel quite annoyed. I’m sorry if someone needs a place to sleep and has to go in the church and not unsympathetic to their situation. But spending a lot of someone else’s money to heat a large building in that way is not on. If the person really needs shelter, there is a warm (storage heated) and carpeted room that he or she could use and I’d probably not even have found out. It is a matter of some importance to us that we give out the message that the church is open day and night and everyone, whether Christian or not, is welcome there. That importance leads us to accept the risk of vandalism or, indeed, the use of the place as a doss-house. But there’s a limit, you know, and theft goes beyond it.

Z is hot under the choler

I went down to the church in good time today, because I knew there would be a lot of setting up to do. I said, a few weeks ago, that we were using the meeting room built on to the church for services for a couple of months, to save heating the church. We didn’t have a service there at all last week as it was in another church (and I didn’t go anyway) so when I went down there yesterday with the Sage to move a piece of heavy furniture, I was surprised to find that it was not absolutely freezing. I checked the timers on the heating and each day was set, correctly, for no heating time at all. So I supposed that I was just feeling the difference from outside’s temperature and thought no more about it.

Today, the church felt even warmer. I felt the radiator and it was warm. I went to the heavy doors which lead to the extension and they were unlocked. We used to leave them unlocked until, several years ago, all our tables were stolen so since then, although the church itself is never locked, the extension is. As it was when I left it yesterday in the early afternoon.

This isn’t the first time it has happened, but I’ve never been able to find out who unlocks the door and doesn’t lock it again. Several people have the key to the place where keys are kept and I’ve asked around and sent emails but no one has owned up. This time, evidently, someone had unlocked the door, switched on the boiler, which takes several hours to heat the church and, later, switched it off again but not locked the door. It must have been overnight or early in the morning, as I should think it was switched off by 9 am. I can’t understand it at all – why do it? It’s a person trusted with a key, so not a random wanderer who needed a place to sleep and thought a heated church would be a nice place. In any case, the church room is carpeted and much warmer.

So, I went to start setting up the room for the service and found that the things I’d left out had all been put away. The table which we use for putting out the hymn books etc was folded up, or so I thought. When I put it up, I discovered that it was too long and that it had been swapped for a slightly shorter one. I had to move everything off that and swap them around again. I’d expected it to take a long time, but it was much more work than I’d anticipated. I didn’t have time to practise the hymns. Fortunately, I can sight-read pretty well on the clarinet, so it was fine.

I would not wish to be the sort of person who puts up signs and notices telling people what to do. But it makes me feel a bit hmm that it doesn’t occur to someone, if they move something, to put it back afterwards. It seems obvious to me that if I didn’t do that, someone else would have to.

It was a lot colder by the time I came home than when I went out. Ro has just been to the petrol station to check the air in his tyres and he says the roads are glistening with frost. Fortunately, Al has kindly arranged that Tim will come in early to the shop on Monday and Tuesday so I don’t have to, so I’ll have an easy start to the week. I’m planning to cycle in every day (except Tuesday, when I have a morning meeting 20 miles away) but I make no promises.

Oh, and I’ve bought wool. Six balls, enough for Ro and me to make a scarf each (the mark of a Fine Resolution is when your child says “good idea, I’ll do that too”). Actually, I have little idea how much wool one needs, but if there’s some left over we can always make a hat. Or pool our wool and make a striped scarf for the Sage. Dilly found up her late granny’s knitting needles, of which there are an impressive range, so I will cast on this afternoon.

Words and Bonds (you have to know Norwich shop history to understand that)

Well, the new dishwasher. You know I said that I felt it would be better to go to John Lewis than a random company on the internet, in case anything went wrong? I sort of didn’t imagine it would be at the depot before the dishwasher even arrived here.

But let’s go back a bit earlier. As you know, and most unusually for me, I’d done a bit of looking up on the internet. So I’d picked what I was likely to want before I arrived at the shop. In fact, there was little to choose between two machines, but both were on display so I peered inside them. I slightly preferred the interior arrangement of one and it was £10 more than the other and, with slight variations, they were much the same otherwise, so that was the one I picked. An assistant came and asked me if I wanted help – well, she asked Wink in fact as she was nearer – at just the time I was ready to order, so all was fine. I don’t know if she had been seconded from another department – the white good department was quite busy – but she didn’t seem awfully au fait with the goods, but that didn’t matter. However, I had to ask about the included saucepans and then she scurried off to find out and then, after she’d given me all the paperwork, I asked about the 5 year guarantee. She assured me she’d given me the form. “This one says I have to pay £80, but it’s included,” I explained. She bobbed off to have another look, came back and agreed with me and found me another form. I thought she might have known that, as three of the four makes on display had that offer (JL’s own brand didn’t). I quietly checked everything else was correct, and it was. We agreed a delivery slot and off Wink and I went for a bowlful (each) of Nourishing Soup.

So, Friday came and the Sage agreed to stay home to await delivery of dishwasher, but in fact I was home by the time it arrived. The Sage received it and asked if our paperwork was needed. No, the driver had everything needed except the Sage’s moniker.

Later, the Sage and Ro unpacked the dishwasher and left it in the hall while they went to disconnect the old one. I went to look at it. It was stainless steel when I’d expected white. I looked inside. It was the wrong model. I went and checked the packaging. It was still the wrong model.

“Hold you hard, bor” said I to the Sage and explained the situation.

This morning, I phoned the shop and the nice woman at the other end of the line was most apologetic. She said that they must have loaded on the wrong one at the depot. However, the Monday or Tuesday delivery slots I could have had are now full. A replacement will be delivered on Friday. I said how fortunate it was that we had opted to dispose of the present machine ourselves, so that I’ll be able to use it for the next week. She apologised again. I was very nice about it under the circumstances. I did mention that it wasn’t all that convenient and arranged that the driver would telephone the Sage with half an hour’s notice, so that he doesn’t have to hang around all morning.

Just as well that it happened to be a steel finish as otherwise I probably wouldn’t have noticed until after it was plumbed in.

The saucepans are splendid, however. Stainless steel with really thick bottoms and a good heavy non-stick frying pan.

Z goes to a Hide

I walked twice in a year, never mind two days. This doesn’t happen every year, you know – though if Simon inspires me to take up orienteering, maybe I’ll be trotting round the countryside inspiringly from May to November in future.

Thanks for your other suggestions, and I’ll consider them all. I haven’t yet, so can’t comment.

Dilly decided to go and look at birds at Minsmere this morning, and asked if I’d like to go with her and the children. I rarely turn down an invitation as you surely know, so I keenly went along, bearing a walking stick in case my hip gave out.

A walking stick isn’t for me, you know. I think I shall get one of those poles such as hikers use. I could look keen rather than pathetic and it would be at least as much use.

Anyway, we saw an extremely chubby deer – we thought it was a sheep until we inspected through binoculars, some shovelers (possibly shelducks, I’m not too good on ducks) and a mallard (I recognise mallards), some birds that were too far away to identify, a blackbird (a bit bemused at the group of people with their binoculars out looking at him, unless there was something else there that we didn’t notice), several chaffinches and bluetits. It was not a vintage bird-watching expedition but we all got Healthily Exercised.

On the way home, Pugsley had a thorough tantrum, brought on through tiredness. In the end, we ignored him until he fell asleep.

Weeza and family are home from the in-laws, having had a good time. Phil’s brother visited with all three children, the eldest of whom has Asperger’s Syndrome, the middle of whom is profoundly autistic and the youngest, who we all hope has no such afflictions. The disability comes from the mother’s side of the family, fortunately for children of Weeza and Phil. Anyway, it was not a relaxed day but went pretty well.

Zerlina had her first solid food on Christmas Eve and has been enjoying it, in tiny amounts. A teaspoon a day is about it. However, it served to bung up her system for 8 whole days. In the 9th day, her nappy was almost exploded off her. “From her ears down”, said her father, who did the second nappy change. Nothing since – they have stopped the baby rice and are giving her vegetable purées – and Weeza is wondering if this will be the pattern and if she should arrange not to go out every 8 days. Or, even better, to arrange for Granny to babysit on those occasions.

Tomorrow, if I get around to it, I shall buy some wool and cast on. If I remember how. I think a long scarf might be the sum total of my efforts, but as long as I feel that sense of achievement…

Z gets mud on her boots.

A most jolly party. We all arrived in time for a home-made cider stirrup cup and then piled on to a couple of trailers, to be hauled by tractors to our starting places. There were 80 or 90 of us altogether I should think; I was on the larger trailer (sitting cosily on a straw bale) with 47 others. Most people got off at the first stop for one of the longer walks, leaving only 15 or so wimps or wusses for the shortest walk (I’m one of them now), which we were told (I didn’t measure it myself) was 2.89 miles.

It was a cold day but not freezing – about 3º, apparently (for any fact fans out there) and a bit dim and gloomy but fine. It was a good walk but I was glad that Clare and Ro were there to read the map as I’m not very observant and slightly dim. The last couple of hundred yards was across a ploughed field (I’m not sure if it is an actual footpath or whether permission is given by the farmer, but it was fairly well trodden) and our feet were soon weighted down by clods of clay.

As expected, there were lots of pans of delicious soup. I started with curried parsnip and pear, went on to onion and potato, progressed to red pepper and finished with turkey and vegetable, out of a choice of a dozen or more. We ate bread and cheese and chatted, it was a really comfortable and relaxed atmosphere. The youngest children to do the walk were 8 or 10, but a few younger children joined the party later. There were people of all ages from 3 to over 70, but the majority were in their 50s, like me, with offspring in their 20s, like Ro. Some of the youngsters I’ve known most of their lives and don’t see often now and it’s remarkable to see how they are growing to look like their parents. The younger ones and those who took breaks before going to university don’t all have jobs, or casual ones, and are finding it hard to get anything better without experience, which they can’t get. They don’t seem disheartened.

Oh, and what entertained me in a fond sort of way was the way the young men greeted each other with a handshake. It struck me, maternal as I am, how mature and young they are at the same time.

Z makes vague and unstructured, and fairly well useless plans

I’m not looking for anything life-changing here. I am looking for some things to plan that I will enjoy, but that require a degree of effort on my part. I’m not going to put here anything that I’ll feel a failure for if I don’t do them. In essence, these are frivolous resolutions which, successfully completed, will please me but not really mean anything at all. Well, except for no. 4, because that involves other people, but that will also be done simply for a sense of achievement and for fun.

Here we go…

1. Learn at least one poem. Last June, I recited one, spontaneously and unexpectedly, from a theatre stage in front of 200 people. I had learned that when I was 15.

2. Knit something and wear it. I haven’t knitted anything since teaching Ro to knit some 15 years ago.

3. Get to grips (in a listening sense) with a classical composer whose work I don’t know much about.

4. Meet at least two fellow bloggers.

5. Do something I’ve never done before. Hm. That’s a bit vague. I’d say, something unexpected or out of character, but I’m a bit easy going there and not quite sure what my character dictates. Any suggestions? I reserve the right to say no. Or maybe. Or jolly good idea but why don’t you do it instead, sweetheart, and tell me all about it? Remember, it has to be enjoyable (by my definition) and essentially frivolous, but if I like the idea, I’ll put in the effort.

Any suggestions for poems or composers will be earnestly considered. But don’t feel obliged.

It’s actually twenty past six on Wednesday evening, but I’ll post-date this to after midnight, because – well, I might forget later, I might come back and add something though. If you have any ideas, go ahead. I’m quite open to suggestions.

Midnight + ten minutes – It is after midnight now and Ro and I are watching fireworks on the Thames. On television, that is. Goodnight, good morning and have a good year.