The Downhill Days

With the end of the three consecutive 'three-day-weeks' that I spoke of last week, I'm reminded of an incident some 30 or more years ago, when a throwaway remark caught my father at the wrong moment.  It was about this time of year when I said, "Well, it's all downhill to Christmas, now!"  Dad looked me straight in the face and with no hint of smile retorted sharply, "Christmas! - that'll come soon enough; you don't want to go wishing your time away, boy!"  He was obviously feeling his age just then.

Nevertheless, the events of these last few weeks have marked the end of a good summer, and with only a few exceptions, there are no more 'highlights' to look forward to until the great Feast.  Talking of feasting, this week has had more than its share of that!  Monday started as usual with the 6.30 prayer-breakfast at the church, and then I set off for East Anglia.  The first stop was the record office in Bury St Edmunds, where I spent some while trying to resolve a few troublesome questions, both for myself and for a friend who lives just too far away for a comfortable research visit to Bury. 

Wattisfield - the former Independent
 Chapel, now a private dwelling,
with a new church to the rear.

After scoring some success here, I moved on to the village of Wattisfield, where my great-grandparents were married at the Independent Chapel (now United Reformed Church), in  November 1876.  Although I've driven through the village many times (it's on the main road, after all!), I'd never before explored it on foot, and the sunshine made it an ideal time to take some pictures.

On then to the annual school reunion.  The former pupils of many schools hold these events on the school premises; this is denied us, because ours was demolished in the 1980s to make way for a housing estate.  All that now remains of the school is the clock that once adorned the Edwardian façade, and which for over seventy years told many a pupil that he/she would earn a red mark in the register for being late.  This has now been lovingly restored and presented to the town's museum, and this year's reunion featured the presentation of a suitable dedicatory plaque to the curator (who happens to be an old boy of the school as well!)

Letton Hall - 'a neat edifice'

Three fairly full days of work formed a run-of-the-mill interval to this concerto of a week, and were followed by a leisurely Friday, catching up with admin, e-mails, and the like before packing and departing for a church 'weekend away'.  This was first mooted almost two years ago, and seemed at first a far-away, rather elaborate excursion.  Gradually it has acquired an aura of increasing reality until eventually all the planning came together and about 70 of us, ranging in age from one to eighty-one (and perhaps beyond!) retreated in ones, twos and complete car-loads for a two-day event in rural Norfolk.  We stayed at Letton Hall, a Christian conference centre founded as such in 1979.  The building itself is probably Georgian, and lives up well to its description in Kelly's 1865 directory of Norfolk as 'a neat edifice'.

I think I can say that we all enjoyed our time there, for a variety of different reasons.  It wasn't all serious: Saturday morning included outside activities like archery and go-karting, for example, and  one of the teaching sessions ended with the diversion of teams making up a song or a story from three random words ... just for fun!  As well as encouraging us to think 'outside the box' about our parish and the people who live in it, the weekend was also a chance for us to get to know each other a bit better, and to do something that was outside our 'comfort zone'.  For me, this included the experience of driving a go-kart, and finding out just how different that is from my trusty Combo van! 

I also had a brief taste of life in a busy kitchen.  The whole event was organised on a self-catering basis, starting - thanks to the devotion of one dedicated individual - with a mammoth Tesco home-delivery on Friday afternoon.  Many of us took a turn in the rota to help with the preparation and distribution of the meals, and I'm pleased to say that assisting at this morning's breakfast wasn't nearly as traumatic as I'd persuaded myself it was going to be!

The morning sunshine from my window