#1263 theoldmortuary ponders.

On By theoldmortuary.designIn Serendipity, Photographs, art, Words, Plymouth Sound, Plymouth, Stonehouse, Hybrid PrintmakingLeave a comment

Does every picture tell a story?

I think most do.

This one tells of the late summer clear up. All family guests have moved on to different holiday destinations and our home has eased back from peak occupation. The crocs belonging to three small girls are gathered in a bucket by the back door while the girls themselves are away on different holiday adventures.

Using a similar colour scheme I am trying to tell the story of a set of swimming steps that are much quieter this week now the heatwave has moved on.

I am at heart a story teller either with words or pictures.

A regular blog reader, who is familiar with these steps, said yesterday that I had made them look very posh. That was not the intention, but I agree. They may have been posh once upon a time but shabby shic is a better description now. Most of the time they are entirely tolerable and are regularly washed by incoming very high tides.

At night they can be a gathering place for  smokers of weed and men who like to do a wee. Not so posh then. Not so great as a swim destination either. Not  so great a picture.

But I don’t need to tell that story about these steps.

Years ago a little pair of discarded crocs by the back door of the actual Old Mortuary used to break my heart.   A small person and her family  had left us to live abroad. That would not have made a great story or a great picture.

3 pairs of crocs in a bucket is a much better story.

However in the interests of story telling I also wanted to show the earlier set of steps at the peak of the August heatwave. I am not interested in the crowds of people who used these steps recently just the steps as a metaphor for extreme atmospheric and radiated heat. Just too much heat.

The heat blistered out of the rocks at night. And the sea languidly lapping the steps, warmer than we have ever known. Not quite cooling enough perhaps. Oleaginous even.

A different colour scheme. A completely different story.

#1262 theoldmortuary ponders

On By theoldmortuary.designIn Bobbing, Serendipity, Swimming1 Comment

My first swim this summer in the rain. Launching from the prettiest of steps. I’ve been swimming very regularly for five years and not once in those 5 years have I got  to the first week of August without swimming in a fair amount of summer rain.

By pure coincidence the July weather stats for Devon in 2026 were published this morning. July in Devon has been the driest for 190 years, when records began.

Rain of any sort complicates the dressing process after a sea swim. The combination of sea water,rain and any residual potions on skin make for an awkwardly sticky drying and dressing process. Even when you think you are adequately dry, clothes do not slip on easily. Skin becomes resistant, like trying to dress a velvet teddy with the nap running in the opposite direction . Vests and t-shirts get caught up. Trousers or leggings refuse to pull up with any speed.

Thank goodness there was no rain on our recent Full Moonie.

#1256 theoldmortuary ponders.

6 happily naked women swimming at dusk from the single file steps.

A random man decides to sit down where all our clothes were stored. He claimed to be looking for his girlfriend, pulled out alcohol and a cigarette and proceeded to just sit there. Completely failing to read the non room. We for the most part just grabbed our clothes or pulled them on quickly. Something we could not have done if it was raining. But then he may not have been quite so keen  to sit there looking for his missing girlfriend in a rainstorm.

If she had any sense whatsoever she should stay hidden for the foreseeable future.Not the behaviour of a gentleman.

#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.