Cramming It All In

As we're spending two days a week at the moment helping out with the family's temporary childcare shortage in Rochester we're having to cram seven days worth of home life into five  at the moment and boy did we cram it in yesterday.

I started at seven in the morning with a trip to the college for a spinning class. After that it was a quick trip back home for a shower and a bowl of porridge before heading back with Marion to the college for a circuit training class. Duly exhausted it was back home at ten for another shower before heading to Southwold.

We were in Southwold for the excellent Ways With Words literary festival and were fortunate enough to have front row seats for talks by Shane Spall (accompanied by husband Tim), Rev Richard Coles and Melvyn Bragg.

What a great line up it was. Shane Spall was a quiet and fairly diffident presence who spoke enthusiastically about her books whilst her husband Tim exuded bonhomie and an infectious joie de vivre - the Southwold audience loved his reading of a passage about a meeting with a Sole Bay fisherman complete with unintelligible local dialect. 

By complete contrast to Shane, Richard Coles was as confident a speaker as you are likely to encounter which is not surprising given his regular TV and radio appearances and his other job as a vicar. He spoke about his childhood, his coming out and his epiphany in Edinburgh but missed out the "searingly honest" bits of his autobiography which could have shocked his mostly silver haired audience.

At the signing afterwards, Marion told Richard that if he were the vicar of Framlingham she would go to church. I simply raised my eyes and wondered how on earth we could fit that in.

The afternoon ended with a talk by Melvyn Bragg. I've always considered Melvyn to be a serious and confident interviewer but his talk showed a fragile side to him that is rarely seen. He was talking about his novel Grace And Mary which is written as an autobiographical fiction. By this Melvyn meant that he used real people, changed their identities and then wrote fiction about them. The people in this case were himself, his mother and his grandmother who was sent away from her community for bearing an illegitimate child (true, but as the author said, hard to believe today). A third of the book covers the period from when his ageing mother developed Alzheimer's to her eventual death from this ghastly disease and Melvyn was too emotional to complete the reading of each of his chosen passages. It showed a truly compassionate side to his nature and I have great admiration for his ability to share this sensitivity with a group of strangers. He was annoyed at letting his feelings get the better of him but, as the interviewer on stage with him said, if your writing doesn't move you, it won't move your readers.

Framlingham Town Council. Photo courtesy of www.nearthecoast.com/framlingham/

There was no time to dawdle after the event finished and it was back to the car and off to Framlingham in time to get to the Town Council meeting. I believe that there are usually no more than three members of the public in the audience at these meetings but, due to current development proposals which could increase the town's population by over 30% at a stroke, the hall was packed with standing room only. I felt sorry for the town councillors who explained that they were all volunteers and, effectively, asked the audience not to blame them for anything. The most important part of the meeting - the discussion of the proposed development on Fairfield Rd - drew a huge response from members of the audience who repeated the many arguments against the new houses. The outcome of the meeting was, for me, fairly unsatisfactory as, although the proposals were not approved, they were not rejected but simply pushed down the road for further consideration when more information is available.

After the meeting we were home in time to catch the final episode of The Detectorists which was filmed here. As a detector user living in Framlingham the show has been a firm favourite with me and I've really enjoyed it. It was a very gentle and fairly whimsical show which is right up my street and I'm delighted that, with 582,000 viewers last night (way above the slot average), another series has been commissioned.

I enjoyed spotting the town locations. Here's Toby Jones outside our bookshop - the only bookshop in the country stocking my novel at the moment. 

Here's a nice shot of Castle St.

And here's the excellent John Bradlaugh Electrical on Fore St where we bought our vacuum cleaner - I must pop in and try and get one of those toy detectors that MacKenzie Crook's character bought in last night's show.

So that was a pretty hectic day and a pretty lengthy blog too (sorry). This weekend we're off to a pub near Rugby to meet our friends Dave and Jane from our old life in Lancashire. 

Don't Leave Us Fair Alba

It's been a second home to us since we bought the caravan in St Andrews and I hate to think of Scotland breaking away from the United Kingdom and going all independent. I haven't had time to listen to Alex Salmond's arguments in favour of the break. He was on all the screens at the gym last night but I had forgotten my headphones and couldn't hear what he had to say; I entertained myself on the exercise bike playing Words With Friends on the iPhone and watching his face inspired me to SMUG (42 points with a double letter and triple word) - thanks Alex.


The Scots have always had a reputation for being dour and my experience of some Scots (or to be honest one particular Scot) in England backed this up. But perhaps this perceived dourness has been due to their being fish out of water and away from their homeland as, in Scotland, I have never found the people to be anything but cheerful  and friendly. I'm not saying that in a patronising way it's just that, even in a big supermarket, you are a hundred times more likely to strike up a conversation with a fellow shopper than you are in England (in Southport at least - unless it's your best friend - and even then you might just nod); and the conversation does not end the minute they hear your English accent.


The other type of Scot, the stereotypical beer swilling, whisky drinking, deep fried Mars bar munching lard arse is certainly not in evidence in St Andrews. Okay so St Andrews in not exactly typical but the same goes for all the towns we've visited including Dundee and the wonderful Edinburgh which, London apart, has to be Britain's most exciting city; I'm pretty sure that he's a figment of some lazy journalist who has never been north of Watford's imagination.


There is certainly a strong sense of pride and national identity in the country and it's good to see the traditions and local costume - long may they continue. I know that we English have got a lot to apologise for but Culloden was almost three hundred years ago now and we've been quite a united kingdom for the last hundred years. I'm not going into all the political or economic arguments about the referendum here. I'm sure that there are strong arguments both for and against but, however eloquently the politicians express them, I very much doubt that the vote will be won on those arguments. I'm sure that it will be won on how much Scotland feels wanted by the rest of the UK. So now and for the next 1,000 days it's time for us English, Welsh and Irish to let the Scottish people know that we really want them to stay.

We're off to one of our film days in Liverpool today. We've got The Artist at 1pm and Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore at 6.30pm at the wonderful FACT in Wood St.  Hopefully that will give us plenty of time to have a decent lunch as well and have a look at FACT's Republic Of The Moon exhibition. We can also go and have a look at the latest "Banksy" that appeared the other night just down the road and guess if it's genuine or not - it'll have to be a guess as we won't have a clue.


I'll end with a message to all my Scottish readers from Jimmy Somerville with my favourite vicar the Rev Richard Coles on piano.









 

You know you're getting old......

...when one of your son's old school friends turns up on Merseyside's biggest commercial talk radio station City Talk (105.9FM) and he's reviewing the day's papers! Yes, we got up early to listen to Jamie Gavin who not only got ten minutes prime time but also a big opportunity to plug his business InPress Online. His earlier claim to fame was as the bridegroom in the long running Daily Express TV ad campaign with its catch phrase "We stand for family values" but today was far more serious stuff with Jamie commenting on Kim Jong Il and showing a degree of empathy with his successor Kim Jong Un, who, like Jamie, is 28 but, unlike Jamie, has to run a whole country and not just a thriving internet business. He also found time to review the back pages and may have alienated some of his fellow Evertonians with his "if the price is right" attitude to the sale of the team's star players. So well done Jamie, hats off to your performance. We'll let you off your failure to get in the Alan Partridge quotes that your friends requested and applaud you for the professional way that you approached the task. Who knows, my anecdotes about my meetings with Robert Maxwell, Kenneth Clark and James Corden's dad may soon be usurped by my one day being able to name drop you.

Marion's feeling a lot better today and in an hour or two hopes to eat her first meal of any significance since Saturday. I've built a nice log fire and it's blazing away as I write and she's snuggled by it under a blanket reading her Kindle. We've a bit of a break from the routine of visiting Flo tomorrow when we hope to get to Vue to see the new Sherlock Holmes movie. I know that Holmes purists will be apoplectic with the transformation of the cerebral Holmes into a sort of Victorian James Bond but we could do with a bit of escapism and we're off to the 11.20 am performance. I'll let you know what we think.

I've lost contact with almost everyone and everything to do with work in the twelve months since we retired. But I'm pleased to say that we're still in touch with the lovely Mark and Nita Jones from Workhouse Marketing in Ribchester who did so much fabulous work for our business in the short time that we used their creative services. Workhouse have made it a seasonal tradition to produce a short Christmas film and this year's (another cracker) arrived in my mailbox today. Do you have a Secret Santa?





Secret Santa from Workhouse on Vimeo.

Before I go, just a quick reminder that it's Rev on telly tonight. If you only watch one thing, watch this. It's been a fabulous series and I'll be sorry to see it end. I've been amazed that some Christians are up in arms about the show but I think that forward thinking churchmen such as the Rev Richard Coles would find it difficult to take offence. Coles tweeted this morning with a word which my computer Scrabble wouldn't allow when I used it. He said that his dogs had been playing up and he'd found a big shit under his piano.  I tweeted back asking what Piers Morgan was doing under his piano. Others asked if it was Jeremy Clarkson whilst one,  (a vicar perhaps) suggested it was his archdeacon.That's the sort of vicar who might get a few more bums on seats.