I did my normal ineffectual-blue-arsed-fly impression this morning, though all started well. Elle was planning to go to Norwich with a friend, but Sie (you see, Elle’s name starts with L and Sie’s with C. Clever, eh?) has been ill with a stomach bug the last few days so it seemed unlikely to happen. So I said I’d take Elle and she could get the bus back. But we were just about to leave when we got the message that Sie was better and would come after all. So I relaxed and didn’t do anything for a bit. I was just about to leave for church when another phone call came. Sie couldn’t find her way through Yagnub, because the road was closed for the annual Christmas Fair. It was simpler to take Elle into town than describe how to get through it (round the roundabout, down Bridge Street, left into Nethergate Street, left into Broad Street, right into Popson Street, across the junction into Scale Street, left into Outney Road and turn right over the bridge). We went out and I locked up. Oh! I’d forgotten the milk and biscuits. I unlocked and went back for them. Driving into town, I remembered I’d forgotten my clarinet too. So I had to go back after dropping Elle off and fetch it. Arriving at the church (the adjoining church rooms are used in the winter to save on heating costs) at 10.55 for an 11 o’clock service when you’ve coffee to prepare for and music to set up is cutting it fine, but people always help, don’t they? And one of the hymns had a tune I wasn’t expecting and had never played (I was mixing it up with another one), so it might have been a good idea to look at the music in advance. Still, no matter. I may not be much of a clarinettist these days, but I can sight-read a hymn. Aberystwyth, if you’re wondering. I’d rather play it than spell it, in truth.
And then I made coffee and someone else washed up while I dried and we debated whether anyone would come to the 8 o’clock service next week and whether to cancel it. Enquiries will be made and I’ll be told.
We said goodbye to Anthony and Sally, who are moving to Devon. They are lovely friends and we’ll miss them a lot. I know few people as kind and can’t imagine anyone kinder. I’ve never heard them say a disparaging word about anyone.
*I know, it’s not a quote.