So there I was perusing the history section in Norwich Waterstones when I overheard a phone conversation that went along the lines of (I must point out here of course that I could only hear one side of the conversation. Now in the past I would be accused of being rude for listening into a conversation but now there's no avoiding it as people seem to insist on almost shouting into a mobile). So here we go.
"Well I thought I might buy it for you for Christmas."
"Yes I know it won't be a surprise but it's an expensive book."
"Yes but I thought you might like it and it is a hardback."
"Yes but it is a hardback."
"Ok but if I don't get this one what am I going to buy you. It's a lovely book?"
"Ok I'll have to get you something else but I have no idea what. The other books don't seem to be anywhere as nice."
Oh look, I said to myself. There's my bus. I was glad to just get out and away from mobile phone woman. I have no idea what the book being discussed was.
So let's get a bit more serious (only a bit).
Thursday was another very busy day. I was called by my friend Richard Headicar to say the book he has written about a Hungarian poet and philosopher has been published and delivered. I had a little bet with Richard about whose book would be published first - his on the philosopher or mine and John Head's book on Le Paradis Massacre. Hands up, Richard has won by a few months.
I have agreed to run the books round to various Media outlets for Richard who is now in his nineties.
Richard was very kind in mentioning me in his preface with the following words: "I very much appreciate the support and welcome pre- publication publicity received from my friend and splendid locally based journalist Peter Steward. He deserves a bottle of my best Rioja- I just hope that nobody tells him I've said so..
Richard was also kind enough to sign one of the books with the words: To a splendid fellow."
Of course as we always insult each other, he did add: " it's all lies of course."
I'm now reading his book on Alfred Reynolds in order to do a piece for the next Good News and Hethersett Herald editions. Stuff for the pre Christmas Herald has been flooding in. Hopefully it will be a feel good edition with lots of bright and colourful photos and it will be online on Christmas Eve.
But back to Thursday. I returned home with Richard's books and it wasn't long before it was time to walk down to Kin Cafe to meet up with the other members of Hethersett Writers' group for a late lunch.
We had a very pleasant couple of hours chatting and eating, eating and chatting and it made me think about the coffee shops and groups where people met in the past, particularly in London.
Coffee shops in the 19th century were the place to be seen. Fast forward and Richard's book talks about the Bridge Group which was a group of philosophers and artists set up by Alfred Reynolds in London and nothing to do with the card game. Then of course there was the famous Bloomsbury Group of writers, intellectuals and philosopher's from the early 20th century.
J.K Rowling wrote the first Harry Potter book whilst sitting in a cafe as an impoverished writer and we all know what happened there.
Anyway our little group is much smaller and irrelevant but it's still good to meet up with like minded people, especially if coffee is involved as it usually is.
I walked home from the cafe only to go back an hour later for a meeting of the Friends of Hethersett Library.
We reviewed the recent children's parties and made plans for next year's events and I left a tad early as we were due to go to Little Melton Church in the evening for a Christmas event featuring the Norwich Salvation Army Band.
At that event I was talking to a couple of bloggettes when the other threequarters announced that she would like to be promoted and henceforth be known as the other four fifths. Now the mathematicians amongst you will know that threequarters is 15/20ths whereas four fifths is 16/20ths so that's a promotion of one twentieth. Should I allow this or is it the thin end of the wedge? Over to you.
Many more promotions and I will be speaking about her as my whole.
Talking of which, I've mentioned before my love of Pickles cartoon. I came across a delightful one yesterday. The cartoons feature an elderly couple Earl and Opal. On this occasion Earl is talking with his grandson Nelson.
Nelson: "Grampa. Do you and gramma ever argue?
Earl: "Argue? No, I can't say that we do. We disagree sometimes, though, and then she explains to me why she's right and I'm wrong. You might say we have one of those marriages where one person is always right and the other person is me.
I couldn't possibly comment.
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So onto Tommy Titt who sent this piece in from deepest, darkest Wymondham.
"In response to our head blogger’s remarks on 21st November regarding the apparent unwillingness of his cousin’s dog to venture one way down Bridewell Street in Wymondham, An investigation was undertaken. A possible explanation raised at the time was that there was a ghostly presence in the area.
The investigation revealed that at some point in the Middle Ages, Bridewell Street was designated a one-way street by the authorities at the abbey. This was in anticipation of the creation of a cycle lane. One can only admire the foresight of the holy fathers as the cycle was not invented until several hundred years later. (Perhaps that was why it was never used properly, and also may explain the continuing local aversion to such measures.) However. It was possible that the Abbey authorities attempted to enforce the one- way street by spreading stories about the ‘Wymondham Wolf’. This little-known legend tells of the alleged hound owned by the notorious ‘Black Abbot’ of Wymondham. It is entirely plausible that at one point the actual hound was originally chained to the gate at the exit of the one-way system to deter travel in the disallowed direction. Some spectral vapours may remain undetected by all except those of a certain canine sixth sense.
However, the mysteries surrounding the Black Abbot and his hound may ultimately be lost in the mists of time along with other local, largely unheard of myths, such as the ‘Grey Person of Chapel Street’ (originally known as the Grey Lady) but now sometimes manifesting in the Abbey grounds whispering pronouns. Others include St. Wymon and the Green Dragon, and the ‘Dark Knight of Spooner Row’ (who only appears when the clocks change in October).
Until his sainthood, Wymon was a peasant, William, who gathered moss by the River Tiffey near Beckett’s Well and thus not a rolling stone.
If we discount the presence of the spectral Wymondham Wolf, then perhaps the cousin’s dog has just walked too far already…But who knows?"
Quite honestly I have no idea what the above is about but that's TT all over. I'm sure he will amuse us with more ramblings in the coming months.
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And then they went and spoiled it all by asking for money.
On Friday we caught the little grumbly bus*:to Longwater. I have mentioned this before.
We like to have a cup of coffee in Mark's and Sparks but on this occasion they were doing takeaways only. So we went to Sainsbury's Cafe instead. Cheap and cheerful was the best way to describe it.
On the way back to the bus we had a chat with a lady promoting the Alzheimer's Society and explained that we organise a twice monthly cafe in Hethersett. She chatted about her family and how dementia had taken her mother. Then she spoiled it all by trying to get us to sign up to a monthly raffle and telling us how good the prizes were as if we were certain to win. We left at that point.
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Oh and in a blog from many moons ago I mentioned how in the old days when we used to write snail mail you would leave the important news to the ps and PPS.
Well today you've had all the usual nonsense but here's the PS.
PS - at approximately 2.15 yesterday afternoon our granddaughter Lyla was born to eldest son Chris and daughter in law Alicia. Myself and the other four-fifths are absolutely delighted and can't wait to go down to Eastbourne to say hello.
* - A Grumbly train/bus is my word for any smallish public vehicle that grinds its way around local areas. I first gave this name to a small train we used to catch in Switzerland to go from Interlaken to Grindelwald