#1261 theoldmortuary ponders

On By theoldmortuary.designIn pondering, Serendipity1 Comment

Blog #1259 was a prompted subject.

#1259 theoldmortuary ponders.

But one tiny paragraph got me pondering.

The prompt asked for a favourite quote. Mine was one about tolerance and indifference.

Suppose I had lived my life with less tolerance and more confrontation. I am an avoider of confrontation. Preferring the less damaging tools of diplomacy and compromise. I am really not very good at confrontation when I am not on firm ground or people might be hurt by my change of character, I am much better at diplomacy and compromise.

But let’s be honest some people are just so entrenched in their nastiness that they wouldn’t recognise diplomacy or compromise. So should I have been pulling on the big girl pants and getting some more confrontation experience along the way.

It is not that I never do confrontation, I just don’t do it if there is a lot to lose for me and other people that I respect or care for.

I can quietly ponder about relationships that have not gone to plan. The ones that are easiest to think about are the ones that have some finality. Estrangement or death allows the pondering free reign and are are the most fascinating because they are over. I can ponder almost clinically if I could have made any improvements in our interactions that would have made things better.

But maybe they could just have tried harder to be nicer, kinder people. Which, of course, is where I flounce off and toss my indifference to them into the air. Not as obvious as the big girl pants of confrontation but every bit as deadly.

#1260 theoldmortuary ponders

On By theoldmortuary.designIn Beach Life, Devils Point, Family, Firestone Bay, Serendipity1 Comment

So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, goodbye.

Gathered together for a week in our house our granddaughters have gone to Austria. There is a plan for them to dance and pose on the Sound of Music Field, where the hills will be alive with an assortment of music. Chinese traditional tunes about mothers and the tunes from Frozen and Moana are more likely than The Hills being Alive.

With their departure there was, of course, increased domestic admin and a crack on with some postponed domestic paperwork. Domestic admin started early and was all on the washing line early. Grown up domestic admin of the paperwork variety had been allotted an hour but took nearer 3! We rewarded ourselves with a post high tide swim.

It occurred to me today that I never photograph our most used sea entry steps from the sea direction. Today the rocks were still wet and glistening from the lowering tide. Many shades of red, yellow and orange rock which beautifully demonstrate how Firestone Bay got its name.

Despite it being the first week of August the bay was quiet and we got a small sloping beach to ourselves for a half hour of sun worship. Then a quick swim back to these steps to dry off before walking home.

When I didn’t live by the coast there was always a poignant last visit to a favourite beach on any holiday.

This small bay is on my daily dog walk rota and I swim here most days in the summer and at least every week all year. I never have to think of any visit that it will be my last. Inevitably one visit, some time in the future a last visit will come

But after a week of small people in my bed the only last of the day is this.

No more small feet in my bed, until the next time.

#1259 theoldmortuary ponders.

On By theoldmortuary.designIn Serendipity1 Comment

What is your favorite quote?

My favourite quote is one that has no obvious origin.

‘ You are mistaking my tolerance for indifference ‘

The digital rabbit hole I nipped down to check mentions Al Capone but there appears no evidence that he actually said it.

He and I could not be more different. I believe he would have delivered such a sentence with more than a hint of menace. For me it is more of a mental note against the individual who has transgressed.

Curiously although I love this quote I am aware of its ambiguity. No one individual or organisation knows where my tipping point is for them. Nor do I have a hard and fast rule myself. My head rules for many such decisions as does my heart. More inportantly I don’t always know where the tipping point is.

Also on reflection I can see that some people were given way too much slack when I was younger.

If only I could choose a simpler quote.

#1258 theoldmortuary ponders.

On By theoldmortuary.designIn insomnia1 Comment
See *

If you had to give one life-changing tip, what would it be?

My life-changing tip is not a quick fix and may not even change lives but the tip does enhance life and that in itself changes everything.

Live life as it is, and not as you hoped or expected it to be.

Don’t dwell on what isn’t but embrace what is.

I have to say this seems glib and simplistic when written down.

My own regular insomniac relationship with 3:30 a.m suggests that my head does not always find my own tip easy to put into practice . But even if I have to force my own theory on my chaotic over- busy mind at times. I know my head and heart benefit in the long run.

And Oh My Goodness! The mental long run can often be an exceedingly long run, arduous and exhausting.

But living life as it is , is as good a survival tool as a tin of Brown Kendal Mint Cake.

*I am a sucker for a retro branded tin. This one fell into my shopping  yesterday. When I was young our family holidays always involved long walks, scrambling over or up rough terrain and admiring the landscape. The only safety equipment was some water and Brown Kendal Mint cake.And my mum left somewhere nearby reading a book. Mini me thought I was conquering Everest. That was unlikely as our holidays were always in the U.K. Non holiday adventures requiring Mint Cake took place in Essex or Suffolk. No dizzy heights in either place.

50 years since Brown Kendal Mint Cake has passed my lips. It will find a way into my life as it is, but only tiny little pieces occasionally. It really is possible to have too much of a good thing. Bigger bits may be allowed if I have to consider things of Everest proportions during my 3:00a.m tribulations.

#1257 theoldmortuary ponders.

On By theoldmortuary.designIn Peninsular Life, SerendipityLeave a comment
Early morning rain.

A splash of rainfall gave jewel-like embellishments to our morning walk in a rose garden. Walking though the streets of Stonehouse,to get to the ferry, the pavements and stone walls reward us with the muskiness of petrichor.

Ichor, or fluid of the gods,is an ethereal golden fluid that flows through the veins and arteries of Greek gods and it smells wonderful apparently. There must have been a lot of Ichor letting in Stonehouse overnight. Which is a slightly more romantic version than the human wee and cannabis combo that can be the fleeting fragrance that greets us. Petrichor is infinitely preferable. Being able to smell the key constituent of Petrichor, geosmin is a human survival tool. One that we are lucky enough not to need anymore.

I think I prefer the pleasurable aspects of Petrichor to the protective or even the mythical. It is just a fabulous fragrance to start the day with as is a garden of wet roses.

#1256 theoldmortuary ponders.

On By theoldmortuary.designIn Bobbing, Serendipity1 Comment

Last night the bobbers celebrated their first Full Moonie. A naked swim at high-tide under a full moon, from a favourite, more secluded bay between two very busy bays.

Full Moonie

I had to shift the moon a bit, in the picture above, to line it up with the bobbers  but it was magnificent.

And just like that one women’s bucket list tick for her 60th birthday becomes a regular monthly habit for the intrepid bobbers.

#1255 theoldmortuary ponders

On By theoldmortuary.designIn Serendipity3 Comments

What’s a song lyric that has stuck with you forever?

There is nothing sophisticated about the lyrics of this 1970’s rock ballad.

Hold your head up.

By Argent an English Rock Band.

And if it’s bad
Don’t let it get you down, you can take it
And if it hurts
Don’t let them see you cry, you can make it

Hold your head up, woman
Hold your head up, woman
Hold your head up, woman
Hold your head high
Hold your head up, woman
Hold your head up, woman
Hold your head up, woman
Hold your head high

And if they stare
Just let them burn their eyes on you moving
And if they shout
Don’t let it change a thing that you’re doing

Hold your head up, woman
Hold your head up, woman
Hold your head up, woman
Hold your head high
Hold your head up, woman
Hold your head up, woman
Hold your head up, woman
Hold your head high

Hold your head up
Hold your head up
Hold your head up
Hold your head up
Hold your head up
Hold your head up
Hold your head up
Hold your head up
Hold your head up
Hold your head up
Hold your head up
Hold your head up

Hold your head up, woman
Hold your head up,oh
Hold your head up, woman
Hold your head high
Hold your head up, woman
Hold your head up, woman
Hold your head up, woman
Hold your head high

And if they stare
Just let them burn their eyes on you moving
And if they shout
Don’t let it change a thing that you’re doing

Hold your head up, woman

The tune is a hugely masculine feeling composition of the era, the testosterone bounces out of  every note, but it was a supportive battle cry for the emerging Womens Liberation Movement.

I have found it immensely useful to just have in my head during tricksy moments. But it would never be my Karaoke tune of choice I just don’t have enough testosterone to carry it off.

#1254 theoldmortuary ponders

On By theoldmortuary.designIn SerendipityLeave a comment
July 2026

Normally by this time of year I am a little art exhibition weary. But at the beginning of this year I decided to pause my art group membership and not exhibit for a whole year. Giving me a year to faff about doing what comes to mind rather than creating art to fit an exhibition brief or title. 

I miss the buzz of exhibiting, and the sales but I have also enjoyed the freedom.

My yesterday’s art output was this doodle on some black paper and it was a very deliberate doodle. I needed it to superimpose it over a digital image I created last year that lacked pzazz or any real personality.

By adding a doodle the whole thing is a little more vivid and useful.

Useful because I need to call the bobbers to an evening swim later in the week. We are planning a swim under the full moon.

To be honest I am still making a few sales of art without the pressure of exhibiting . The other plan for this year was to do a stock take and maybe take a stall at an art fair. Selling from a stall means I get to meet the people who are buying my pictures.

Two July pictures from past years have had different fates .

Fig.1

Fig. 1 went off to a new home from an exhibition in Tavistock. I have no idea where it is now.

This portrait was promised to the biker who posed for me in a cafe. We made a loose arrangement to meet in the same cafe but the cafe closed within weeks. I have not seen him since.

Once an image is finished they have a life of their own.

Just looking at them now I can see little improvements I could make. For their own sake they are better off away from me and not tinkered with in perpetuity. Just like children really.

#1353 theoldmortuary ponders

On By theoldmortuary.designIn Exhibitions, fashionLeave a comment
Loo rolls stocked up.

Saturday was always going to be heavy  on domestic admin and chores. But the rewards were a live music event and some swimming. It was only when we were well into the admin and chores that we realised we had already missed the live music event by 24 hours. Thank goodness some of the chores were charming.

Bunnies Bathed

I had a futile trip into a hot city for an eye test I didn’t need. An appointment booked because of an automatically generated email sent in error. It was quite a relief really as there were no frames I fancied if a new prescription was required. A dip in the sea after a hot and sticky but pointless afternoon trip was possibly undeserved but I took it anyway.

Polka dot swimmers

There were still more chores and admin to be done. But a swim requires a post-swim cup of tea. And a cup of tea on a Saturday requires a newspaper. The fashion pages were full of Polka dots.

My dress of choice for the day was this one. Me dressed for the occasion at a Yayoi Kusama exhibition.

Me and my domestic admin/chores  completely on trend. A well spotted Saturday.

#1352 theoldmortuary ponders

On By theoldmortuary.designIn blogging, Bobbing, Serendipity1 Comment
Summer Bobbers.

What’s a promise you made to yourself that you’ve actually kept?

8 summery bobbers met yesterday for our regular weekly swim. About half of the number of registered bobbers who turn out at Firestone Bay in all weathers to swim, chat and eat cake.

If there was anything positive to come out of the Covid era this group of acquired aquatic friends is my favourite thing.

There is nothing good about my swimming. I am not fast, strong or stylish. But during the Covid years I learnt that being in the sea, bobbing about was something that I loved doing.

Before the Covid era I was not someone who made promises to myself. I was fortunate, a boomer, a post-war child born into an optimistic era. Too young to understand the threats of the Cold war. Covid was the first time I felt threatened in a way that was beyond the control of  myself, society or the world. I promised myself I would keep swimming with the bobbers and keep writing a daily blog.

Faced with a Global Pandemic those were the only two intentions I had to battle an invisible enemy. Written down that looks quite pathetic. Also as promises go they are hardly earth shattering.

But history will probably call us the Covid Generation. The big stuff will be researched and discussed at conferences and academic institutions. But the little stuff is what we all had to do to get through.I do little stuff.

5 years ago we were just emerging from Covid restrictions. We attended a wedding. The blog I wrote on that day is below.

Pandemic Pondering #487

My promises to myself may well be a bit inconsequential but so far I have stuck with them and that is good enough for now.

Reflecting on this I realise there were two pivotal moments that made both blogging and swimming both possible and promisable.

In early Covid I was recalled back to work in London. At the time I was living in Cornwall. Even in normal times that would be a near impossible commute. Had that happened there would be no sea swimming.

In early 2020 I had been accepted to train as a theatre critic,  barely had the email landed when Covid arrived stamping its big gnarly foot on training or aspiration of any sort. Had the Theatre Critic thing happened there would be no blogging.

My tiny promises were created by a massive global  crisis.