#1502 theoldmortuary ponders.

My lucky day.

In the last week or so I have added a new morning ritual.

The new feature from my blog hosts.

My morning rituals occur, in no particular order . The earliest they start is at 2:30 am, if insomnia kicks in, the latest start time would be about 6:30.

The first one is always the Wordle of the day. Today was a good one.

After that in no particular order:-

Tea

Coffee

Plan but not always write the blog

  • The new ritual is reading blogs written on this day since 2017.

I have loved reading my ponderings presented as a historic daily timeline.

Starting sporadically in 2017 but developing into a daily habit. Reading them as a record of my life and the world around me is surprisingly enjoyable. And yet why would I not enjoy it. The published diaries of famous people have always fascinated me alongside the daily records of ordinary people,which are far less available, but almost more interesting because of their rarity.

I have promised not to share them too often here, but sometimes I will . Today I thought I might share the little pleasures I have taken in this last week.

Bittersweet Crocs

We have three granddaughters, two live abroad and we do not see them often enough. For a long time a little pair of turquoise crocs were by our backdoor, we couldn’t bear to tidy them up because they belonged to a small person many thousands of miles away. These orange crocs belong to a small person just 10 miles away.

Dahlia June 8th 2020

This dahlia bloomed on the day we attended our first Covid era video funeral. A dearly cherished friend had planned his own funeral. It was the most beautiful and haunting experience. A funeral with no hugs, no human touches of condolence and love. A funeral we didn’t walk away from. The live stream just stopped, and there we were in our own sitting room, a bit wrung out and wondering what on earth we had just witnessed.

Not all June blogs make me sad, thank goodness.

Bobbers 2023

The Bobbers pop up pretty often in my blog of the repetitive nature of daily life.

June is also not spared my occasional strong opinions.

Fantasy South West Coastal path view. 2025

A year ago I went to see The Salt Path, a film of a book that I always thought was a work of fiction tethered loosely on truth and reality. Just weeks after this film was released, Raynor Winn the author and advisor on the film was exposed as being economical with the truth.

Oh my inner bitch rejoiced. I had so often disagreed with people ( the majority) who thought the book and the author were wonderful. The inner art bitch also got an outing for this blog in 2025. I stuck three of my own different coast path locations together to illustrate a fictional coast path location. Raynor Winn, of course has made millions from her falsehoods. Me nothing.

Which is why my blogs will always be from the perspective of an ordinary person. Who only occasionally lets the inner bitch out!

©Grant Wallace 2017

Here is a really old blog, very far from daily. From a time when I hoped to be a proper ‘Arts’ writer. Like so many things ,Brexit and Covid, put a stop to that aspiration. As one aspiration slams a door the draft forces another door open. Daily blogging slipped in quietly when the other door closed.

Yesterday’s blog as it appears on line

#1501 theoldmortuary ponders.

What’s the best way to build self-confidence?

I am not really the best person to give hints and tips on building self-confidence because as a character trait in others I find it can be built on pretty flimsy foundations. I would make a rather wild observation that often the most self-confident people build their confidence on the most unstable and unreliable foundations. So I view unquestioning or showy self-confidence with a fair degree of scepticism and distrust.

I constantly question myself and really believe that every day is a schoolday. Knowing that the foundations of my confidence are constantly under review might sometimes make me seem less than confident but actually I might just be reviewing and reflecting on new information or the shared wisdom of others. All waiting to be stored in my confidence foundations ready for future use.

So before building self-confidence always check that your foundations are sound, because self-confidence in the wrong hands is dangerous, unattractive and nothing to be proud of.

#1500 theoldmortuary ponders.

©theoldmortuary

How do you build loyal subscribers?

How do I build loyal subscribers?

A big question for a big number #1500

1500 oldmortuary ponderings, before that the Pandemic Ponderings. Pandemic Ponderings started the accidental habit of a daily blog.

So perhaps the answer is that I turn up nearly every day and increasingly so do many of you. Not so long ago 20 readers logged by WordPress was one measure of my daily reach. Recently things have become a little giddy and 200 is not unusual.

Like all big questions in life I don’t have definitive answers but a few principles that work for me.

A Quirky Moral Compass

I never set out to have a quirky moral compass, it has just formed over the years. I know it is not perfect but I always distrust perfection. Wabi-Sabi is neat Japanese phrase that sums up my feeling.

Not being perfect has always seemed a good path to travel and I know that that is hugely controversial. And also not for everyone. But knowing when to stop is every bit as valuable as starting.

©theoldmortuary

I can do perfect, but for personal perfection I aim a little lower.

Maybe that is the secret to building anything worthwhile.

Subscribers

A Family

Friendships

There is an interesting footnote to this. Although I am an avid manipulator of images. I build in deliberate error, using several different apps and hand drawn or painted elements.

The rise of AI in image creation is unstoppable. Recently every organisation seems capable of producing posters to advertise events that are retro, homely or ( even worse) wholesome. The absolute perfection of these posters makes me feel queasy. A genuine physical response not too dissimilar from mild travel sickness. I can’t really explain it. Maybe my desire for slight imperfection is more significant than I realise.

#1459 theoldmortuary ponders.

Another tough day at the Office

For a woman who spent her working life in the gloomy, daylight starved, environments of Medical Imaging Departments, it is quite the turn of events to turn my transferable skills to the management of a Tennis Club by the sea.

Yesterday we were entertaining Tree Surgeons doing remedial work on  trees damaged by winter storms. The first of two such days in June.

All of our trees have Tree Protection Orders on them so licences and permissions have taken some time to be obtained. 

But two young men with some very fancy equipment  soon trimmed our ailing Ash tree into something that may or may not survive a disease process. But at least now he no longer has any big boughs to drop over our neighbours wall.

But he is not a thing of beauty anymore.

Taking a jump from one world to another in semi-retirement is a fascinating process. Every day is a school day. Transferable skills flex and expand. My treasure trove of knowledge has some truly eccentric and unexpected nuggets of new information and I have some different or enhanced skills. I also have a much bigger and prettier office!

#1458 theoldmortuary ponders.

What’s something you’d love to see in the future, but know you probably won’t live to witness?

There are many reasons I write a daily blog. Witnessing is one of them. I have always been fascinated by the day to day lives of  ‘normal’, run-of-the-mill, people , like myself. Not the famous, infamous,grand, important, iconic,good, bad and ugly( beautiful) people who habitually occupy the world’s media.

I just love the observation of people going about their daily lives.

As a British person with a peculiar interest in normality I would love to see how Britain between January 2020, when we left the European Union and May 2023 when the World COVID Pandemic was declared over, is viewed with the retrospective wisdom of 100 years.

British people are a blended island nation, who talk a lot about the weather. Sometimes about Wars. And unlike any other nation, have a couplet of 21st Century woes.

Businesses failed because of the joint enterprise of Brexit and Covid.

Relationships failed.

Communities broke up.

People took the fork in the road that they would never have considered were it not for Brexit/Covid.

It is not in the least unusual to hear 

” Well, of course, there was Brexit and then Covid”

We are a nation whacked by a double whammy.

As an individual, Brexit/Covid galvanised me into  daily blogging/ diarising. Something I had wanted to do all my life but life got in the way.

I used to dream of keeping a five year diary. I never achieved it, despite being nerdy, and at times, an insular child.

Jetpack, the app that supports my WordPress blog page has a new-to-me feature.

Suddenly I have my 6 year diary pages to look back on.

I promise not to share these here too often but I find them fascinating, of course I do.

The great ponder of the day is, will they survive 100 years, and what will my great-grandchildren make of them?

Pandemic Pondering #77

Pandemic Pondering #436

#229 theoldmortuary ponders

#631 theoldmortuary ponders.

#937 theoldmortuary ponders

#1310 theoldmortuary ponders

#1457 theoldmortuary ponders

Marking time. A 100 year old tennis club gets an address. The 21st Century has arrived.

1966 was a big year in Great Britain. The men’s football team won the football World Cup and Postcodes were introduced.

Between 1966 and 1974 every address in Britain gained a postcode.

For reasons, lost in the mist of time, our Tennis Club missed out. I imagine other places must have done too.

For 60 years the club has managed. Firmly occupying a corner of land where the road bends and meets the sea. But the world has moved on and increasingly the digital age just cannot see something that does not have an alphanumeric code.

In fact the very act of applying for an official address and postcode without a postcode proved to be a challenge. A challenge that was ultimately successful. Although to achieve filling in a digital form correctly but inaccurately the club was declared a  ‘new’ build.

Increasing companies and organisations have systems that simply cannot interact with our club because we had no postcode.

So yesterday really was a red letter day. Although as yet no actual letter of any colour has been delivered. That would require a postbox!

Small steps.

Yesterday turned out to be the last day stuff had to be delivered to a members address and then walked or driven to the club for redelivery. Nothing inconsequential, like an Amazon parcel that could be tucked into a coat pocket or bag.

Four park benches for the watching of tennis or just taking in the view.

#1456 theoldmortuary ponders.

Do you believe in minimalism?

I am not sure that I believe in minimalism but I do admire it. I suppose I am a theoretical minimalist living a maximalist life. Just as I am an introverted extrovert. Too much in either direction and I begin to feel uncomfortable. I like the peaceful, spiritual feel of cool, calm minimalist spaces where simplicity and shadows move together as the available light changes. I might sip a Martini or any other bitter cocktail in such a place.

But for the vast majority of my life I am not that person. I am a tea drinker   or coffee drinker and I habitually settle in more maximalist spaces. But whilst drinking my tea or coffee in a maximalist space I could absolutely enjoy leafing through coffee table books extolling a minimalist lifestyle. In a way that I could never sip my bitter cocktail in a minimalist space and browse books on maximalism. Even the thought of it sends a shiver down my spine.

As a point of interest I researched into my photo archive with the search ‘ minimalist image’

Nothing truly minimalist came up. But I have probably self diagnosed myself as maximalist minimalist just be fishing out these few images.

Bilbao
London
Plymouth
Tate Modern
Hong Kong

The two colour photos at the beginning and the end of this blog  also represent my mini/maxi conundrum.

Busy maximalist images of a local tidal pool with a lot of the actual detail stripped out.

#1455 theoldmortuary ponders

Tidewatching

I heard the term tidewatcher last week. I am a tidewatcher, for bobbing but on most occasions for no particular reason. Our dog, Hugo, was a canine tidewatcher. He had a very specific need. His one dog quest was to rescue seaweed from the sea and his patience was infinite. Lola has no such interest but she humours me.

Humouring me is her entire life experience today. There is a fair bit of admin to be done.

A day at the office.

None of it is interesting to a dog who values lifestyle over activity or admin. Things could be worse for her, I could be working in the actual office rather than her comfortable home. Dogs are not allowed at the tennis club.

Club admin is often about the things that shouldn’t happen and of course mitigation for all the things that should happen. Like Lola I am not hugely excited by admin but nobody’s  world goes round without admin. Which is why a walk to the tidal pool for a bit of tidewatching is time very well spent.

And when nearly all the admin is done there is always more tidewatching. Lola remains disinterested.

#1454 theoldmortuary ponders.

Go on a walk today and share a photo of something that catches your eye.

This is a prompt for a suggested blog today, from my blog hosts. Every blog I have ever written features a photo or photo’s of something that has caught my eye, accompanied by random thoughts and some minutiae of daily life.

What will catch my eye today. 1st of June 2026?

Let’s just see shall we?

Marilyn Monroe 100 years old today. Except she only got to live for 36 of her beautiful years.

How lucky am I to have lived 68 of my 100 years. Less beautiful, less troubled. Less dead!

Of all the Marilyn stuff I read today one was particularly troubling.

A businessman, Richard Poncher,bought the tomb above hers and demanded that his coffin was placed in his tomb upside down so that his body could gaze face to face with hers for eternity.  That is just weird, entitled and wrong.

The man’s wife had no qualms at a later date about trying to sell off the tomb and presumably her husband’s corpse  in order to make some extra cash.  There were no bidders. There are some strange people about. Mr and Mrs Poncher clearly deserved each other.

Today is a Monday, nearly always a Nana and Nona day care. It is a day of  Ferry spotting.

Cremyl Ferry at the Royal William Yard.

Hide and Seek.

And Dog walks.

So what caught my eye.

That a ferry travelling backwards actually produces a better photograph than when it goes forward.

Who could ever have guessed?

#1453 theoldmortuary ponders.

And after the holiday comes the washing pile.

Which I inadvertently added to by having a chocolate croissant dipped in my coffee while writing yesterday’s blog in bed. Coffee and croissant all over me and the bed. If the blog was a paper diary yesterdays page would be the colour of old parchment and the ink would be indistinct. In yesterdays blog I said I shared a birthday with the first use of a lighthouse on the Eddystone Rocks. 14th November 1698. If that were really true I would be writing on old parchment.

Anyway back to the holiday plus washing. Thankfully Stonehouse did not get the memo that the heatwave was over. The yard was still capable of drying washing yesterday long after the sun had set.

There has been only one major yardening crisis whilst we were away. Our lavender tree has curled up his fragrant toes and died, draping himself dramatically over a stoic Olive tree. Jobs for next week I think.