#999 What’s the Fuschia?(Future) Big day tomorrow @theoldmortuary 1000 days of the latest iteration of my daily bloggings. A wise woman would not predict the future, she might just lay in a wooded glade and be grateful for the present
In the recent past there have been many wet days.
But now the sun is out and surface water is not all green and murky.
Time for swimming spots and local beaches . And resting in the shade being grateful for the now.
Yesterday our morning dog walk was in the city centre. The plan to be there early was thwarted by Olympic scheduling. We were obliged to make a slow start to the day to watch a local diver, Tom Daley, take part in his fifth Olympic games. He is only 30. While he toiled in Paris on a 10 metre diving board we made a leisurely start to the day with an extra coffee.
He won silver and all was well. In consequence it was very hot by the time we got to the cities over-heated concrete heart. ( Pride and the weather) The dogs and I clung to the sharp, cool shadows created by tall buildings. Following the shadows took me to the local market. An area of independent small businesses and the most multicultural and diverse area of Devon and Cornwall. Every time I go there I think I should go more often. Yesterday I found a favourite relocated junk/house clearance shop which made me very happy. It was closed Monday and Tuesday which protected me from myself. But the windows are always a joy. The paraphernalia of other peoples lives is so much more interesting than a carefully created Interiors shop. I discovered a new to me artist. Someones collection of framed images dumped in a corner. Of course I googled Gil, in the U.S these prints are collectibles.
There were 4 framed prints of his work in the window. It is hard to imagine a home where these would have been the acceptable focal points of a sitting room in 2024.
Much more contemporary was some nearby graffiti. 3 of 9 multicoloured Lighthouses stencilled on a wall.
In some ways the two sorts of art depict the changing face of Plymouth in the 30 years of Tom Daley’s life.
Cheesy Pin-up imagery in a city where men were men, to rainbow coloured Lighthouses.
Just like the junk shop. Plymouth is a bit more open, closed some days for certain, but more open than it used to be.
When we took over this house and yard, a little under 3 years ago, there were a few projects that needed time, money and thought lavished on them.
The yard was an unloved space with no flower beds and lots of artificial grass. It was utilitarian and rather unloved. Nothing more than a dog toilet and the route to the garage for the previous owners. We immediately moved loads of pots and containers from our old garden to make it feel like home. Most survived. Perhaps the biggest revelation was that the artificial grass covered slightly raised beds and an old concrete patio. We have had to learn a lot with a yard rather than a garden. After the wettest winter on record a wet spring and now a wet summer we have been rather despairing of ever getting the yard how we wanted it. Perhaps most importantly we also had to learn what works in a stone and concrete box. Our natural aesthetic is Jungle and the yard prefers the Mediterranean vibe. For the last few days the sun has been out and suddenly we can see climbers climbing and a dense planting plan become dense.
The weather was even reliable enough to get the yard bean bags out, which was much appreciated.
Which brings me to a yardening hint. Linked to our yards previous life as a dog latrine.
We keep a couple of rhubarb forcers in an ornamental raised bed. Any emergency dog poos go into the rhubarb forcers in toilet paper along with teabags and coffee grounds. No rhubarb.This curious mix of foodstuffs feeds all sorts of creepy crawlies, slugs and snails. There is never a smell and the pots seem to regulate themselves to always being about half full.
We have used this method for all of the eleven years we have had Hugo, in three gardens. A clay soil in London and perfect soil in Cornwall. Each time we moved we lifted the pots to reveal perfect compost that could easily be dug into the ground. We probably stopped using them about two months before the move date. The only time there has been a problem is when a thoughtful visitor bagged up their dogs poo in compostable bags and then popped them in the pots. We discovered the error about three weeks later. That is not a day I care to dwell on, it was August!
So here we have it, a shit end to the first blog of the week.
P.S. I googled to see if a Mediterranean Jungle was a real thing. Sadly not, but just as there is such a thing as an Atlantic Rain Forest there is also a Mediteranean Rain Forest, both left over from when the earth was actually covered in Forests. Both under threat from Human activity.
We could never create a forest, but by accident we have created exactly what we have. A Mediteranean Rain Yard.
There was a planned blog for today, but then gorgeous sunshine, on our early morning dog walk, and this descriptive sign, knocked the other blog off the page. The sign is actually a pub sign but describes exactly the route of our walk.
Today was a chore day, random jobs etc. But we knew the weather was going to be fab, so an early morning dog walk was planned for the start of the day.
Plymouth Sound has recently been designated the first British Marine Park.
https://www.heritagefund.org.uk/projects/plymouth-sound-national-marine-park
After a year or so of no obvious changes we are beginning to see things happening. A fair bit of building work, scaffolding and construction paraphernalia obstructs some views.
But the sunshine gave us lots of visual treats.
And so after lovely views we achieved the away from home chores. Then some Olympic excitements. Mountain Biking and Hockey. Soon to be followed by yardening in full sun. Sunny day Sunday
Another swim spot called 9 bobbers to the water yesterday. After a few days of grim weather our usual dipping zone was packed with swimmers eager to put the rainy days behind them. Tranquility Bay was anything but tranquil.
This nearby swimming area can easily accommodate 9 or 10 swimmers and all our paraphernalia. It is a picturesque spot with arches and seats cut into the rocks.
It is a favourite place for people to enjoy just taking in the views and sometimes enjoying some weed.
We were lucky the whole area was available to us at just the moment we needed it. A few realistic images follow.
But why let reality get in the way of a good blog.
As you can see from the altered image below this area is just a few steps further west from Tranquility Bay.
Curiously the current was very strong yesterday and tried to sweep us all back to our usual bobbing area . Mother Earth wooshing us back to where we should be.
It’s been a week of damp,grey days and yesterday was the dampest greyest. I found a two year old photograph of a watercolour depicting mussels to illustrate a greyish post.
The problem of the week has been the admin of a club I belong to. The problems are not matters of life or death but goodness they do take up some time. Much of the admin of clubs is constructive leading to a useful outcome.
Quite a lot is ‘ Niffnaff’ and some is people management, not always in a good way.
Sometimes problems are hiding in plain sight. This week the big problem of the week was caused by Testosterone and Ego. A clever script writer could write a drama or comedy set in committees in Britain, maybe elsewhere too. Where the best efforts of many are thwarted by an abrasive and/or disruptive individual, sometimes individuals. Although this week’s problem was male derived, women can also be egostic and disruptive in the same setting.
But with enough effort resolutions can be found and using the same mussel analogy. People working well together can move clubs, organisations and indeed whole countries forward.
All is well that ends well.
For someone who celebrates serendipty and embraces the unexpected, I also love predictive Apps on my phone. Mostly weather related and yet predictions cannot always mitigate outcomes.
Despite this gloomy image from my new favourite weather app. Each morning I wake up and go to the Norwegian Meteorological Institutes Weather App just to see how my day might go. Even on gloomy days their predictions are more visually pleasing than other weather apps.
I have had to leave the house and walk, in rain, 3 times before 10:30 in the morning. So predictions can only inform but not always alter how the day will go.
Weather is one thing but actual life is quite another. If only there was an accurate Crystal Ball App. Yesterday’s predictions would have suggested an intimate tête-à-tête with a horse. See top image. But as no such App exists this was a complete surprise to me.
Me and horses are not a thing and yet somehow, even without a Crystal Ball App, I suspect horse encounters are going to be more frequent events.
It is a surprise I was not anticipating.
Yesterday, I managed to tackle all admin work while Hugo enjoyed a longer walk without him needing pain relief. It was a productive day with a refreshing sea breeze as I balanced work and caring for Hugo. This was my working-from-home location during one of his rest periods.
I suspect Hugo is loving the attention of the last week since he hurt his back. My route yesterday around the harbours of Plymouth is one of his favourites because there are many cafes that he approves of. Yesterday we chose a cafe themed towards bikers with engines.
Predictably their dog biscuit offering is fairly butch. Far too challenging for fluffs with small mouths, but the industrial concrete floor soon turned a bulldog style biscuit into something a poodle could nibble at.
The slower pace of this week’s walks gave me a moment of contradiction yesterday. Despite walking past and walking into this old building on the edge of Sutton Harbour, many times, I had never read the blue plaque.
The Custom House was built in 1586 or round about. The time when Plymouth was at its zenith as a Pirate port.
Usually when I see old doors I like to romanticise about the people who have passed through them but certainly I cannot imagine too many pirates saying,
” Have you seen the new Customs House, we must pop in there on our way to the bars and whore houses, when we dock”
” I just cannot enjoy myself and really let go until my Import Tax is up to date”
That must have been quite the job to have in Elizabethan Plymouth. Everyone strolling right past pretending they haven’t seen your open door and welcoming toothless smile.
No playing Wordle in a quiet moment.
It is somewhat ironic that these two information boards are just a few paces from the old custom house.
The things I get to ponder on restorative, slow, dog walk days.
I was reacquainted with this painting that I sold 5 years ago. It was called ‘Return of the Native’ because it is a close-up of Cookworthy Knapp. A hilltop cluster of trees, close to the border of Devon and Cornwall, on the A30 travelling West. The trees are known as ‘Nearly Home Trees’
I say reacquainted because I never really knew it well. It was delivered to the gallery as soon as it was dry. It is about a metre square. It was unsold half an hour before the exhibition closed, but at the very last minute a woman rushed in to buy it. I always forget about this painting because I knew it for such a short time, and I have another one of the same subject that resolutely fails to sell whenever I put it out in the public domain.
I know that paintings can take their own sweet time to find their forever homes but I was a bit shocked at how easy it is to forget one that sells immediately.
The strange thing is that cards of this design sell really well. Art is a funny world. The link below is about the trees.
https://www.perransabove.co.uk/blogs/happenings/nearly-there-trees
We’ve just had the most amazing weekend filled with gatherings and joy. Four of our beloved family members arrived safely from the airport, despite the chaos of an I.T. outage. It is the beginning of a golden phase for our family, with everyone finally in the same time zone. We were hoping to spend some quality social time in our yard, but the weather had other plans – nonstop rain filled the weekend. Nevertheless, we made the most of it and created fun and laughter together.
But cousins who normally spend their time half a word apart are united waiting for the rain to stop.
Or share their lunch offerings.
Friends gathered at our house this weekend too and I was madly British and insisted on cooking in the yard because that has been the plan. The outdoor grill perched on a table in the yard, but near a kitchen window. The food, both grilling and steaming in the rain.
There were also moments when we weren’t in gathering mode and I could read a weekend newspaper, when I discovered that my obsession with weather forecasts and weather Apps is widely shared. A quick look at my home screen on my phone shows that I have 3 apps and I follow two local weather forecasting Facebook pages not so much for the actual weather as neither cover where I live but for their knowledgeable chit chat.
One day I might get a weather station of my own to chit-chat about. I could call it ‘Pondering Precipitation’
We also had a hybrid friends/family gathering. Four grandparents gathered in the same space and not a single small person in sight.
Not the sun-baked July weekend we anticipated but joyous in many different ways.
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