Monday 16th October 2017

Monday morning, and here I am in the faintly nicotine tinged bedding at Mum’s. I have tried to make it better, but there is only so much a young fella can do.

I get up, have a coffee, then breakfast and ponder the day. I know from past experience, there is no point in calling the hospital before I leave, therefore as a friend I know on the way was back from his travels, I thought I would call in on him on the way, as Mendlesham is a short diversion.

There was one more church beside the 143 I was aware of, as there was a brown sign pointing to an “historic” church. Aren’t they all in EA? It is under the care of the CCT which usually means it would be unlocked, but after parking, I go to try the door, and it is locked. On the notice board there was details of a key holder, so as I tried to orientate the map with the road, the door opened.

I thought you were a ghost said the lady the other side of the door.

She lets me in and I begin to snap away. Do you know anything of the history of the church she asks. I say I don’t, but point out some of the features that allows me to see how the chuch has changed; there is a clear and good set of Rood Stairs, and clearly there was a side chapel, but no sign of a squint that would probably have been there. I talk about the glass, and say which I think was old, most of it was Victorian, and pretty poor if truth be told.

I advised them to go to Whenaston and then to Blythburgh to see more wonders. They were taking notes, so maybe they did go there afterwards.

Time was getting on, so I go to see Rob, and we have a great chat and they ply me with tea, which was very nice. It is good to have talks with people, rather than me arguing with my inner monologue.

I leave theirs at half twelve, and press on to Bury, stopping of at Tesco for lunch of sandwiches, crisps, a Twix and a bottle of Coke; all four food groups. And I then eat as I drive up the A14, probably breaking a couple of laws at the time too.

I arrive at Papworth to find all of East Anglia was visiting too, meaning there were no free parking spaces. I mean no free spaces at all. A train of cars goes round and round for half an hour until each one of us find a space. I get a small one next to a building that just about manage to get the car into.

Up to see Mum on the ward, and as usual, not much to say, and she has no news of a transfer.

When I get back into the car, RadMac are talking about a red sky seen in Manchester, and in time the clouds roll over, and the sun which was bright and yellow earlier was now red and angry. A hurricane, a real hurricane not one two weeks past its sell by date, but a genuine hurricane was tracking up the west coast of Ireland, and it was dragging air from North Africa, meaning the air was full of sand particles, causing the light to be shifted down the spectrum; hence, red sun, pink and yellow clouds.

Once on the 143 I stop to take a snap at the odd light, but the sun was long since gone. And the low and sand laden clouds brought dusk 90 minutes early, although many drivers apparently failed to notice and were driving without any lights, and so barely able to be seen.

I get home at half six; long since dark and just glad to be home safe and sound. If not home, then at Mum’s. I had stopped at the butcher on Gorleston Road to buy a huge lamb steak, so fry that and cook mashed potatoes and make both disappear along with the last of the 2007 vintage wine in the living room.

Oh well.

Football on the radio, and me writing blogs at the same time. Usual evening for here.