I took some time out yesterday to get paint on paper before 2026.
In the past 3 weeks I have described the undescribable sensations I felt when I first saw the colours of the sea at Coogee Beach an hour after I landed in Australia. I have not been lost for words but making a colour sketch was essential as photographs and words can’t do my memories justice. I wanted the vibrancy and translucency of the colours of the sea combined with the milky coffee colour of the mix of sand and waves on the shore line in the brightest of sunshine.
This is my best effort, a mix of vivid watercolour painting and some digital photography tweaking.
For now I am content and optimistic that the job can be done in the New year.
Our post Christmas life has been about rehabilitating Lola as our only dog. Left to her own devices she would sleep most of the day and happily nip out to the yard for comfort breaks. This lifestyle would not be good for her. We have discovered that she is energised by trips where other dogs and humans can give her contact and interest . We had not attempted countryside walks until yesterday when a bright and breezy Dartmoor attracted us.
Traffic calming on Dartmoor.
We walked along the river Dart at Dartmeet. Lola tolerated the isolation but was indifferent to the history or beauty of the area until she was offered a half share of a warm sausage roll on our return to the car.
Road Bridge 18th Century with damaged Medieval bridge in the foreground.
She sniffed Lichen boulders but not with any great enthusiasm.
Our second walk of the day was more to her taste. Ashburton also took in history with one of the world’s oldest inns. Trading as an Inn since 1140
Nearly 900 years of dog messages expressed on its exterior walls. Lola loves to track and was nose to the pavement once she left this rich trove of Canine communication. She sniffed out a serendipitous collection outside a closed antique shop. Either intentionally or by accident this tiny collection of objects has been rained on, pissed on and then caught in bright winter daylight.
Lola chose not to leave her own message but I was glad to have been dragged by her to see it. I just love the patina of the teapot against the terracotta, rust and vivid blue plant pot.
In some ways the picture of the day and for Lola, possibly the highlight. She is most definitely more urban than rural for the time being.
Blog #1378 wallowed in nostalgia and some dog extra sensory perception. I am comforted by nostalgia and a little sadness is easily softened by the reliving of many happy moments in the same place. But familiar places are never dull. Especially on a day when the sunshine quota was high.
Early visits to Fowey in the 70’s and 80’s, were to a seaside town still functioning as a place where normal people lived, and tourism and locals co-existed. Butchers, Bakers, a Fishmongers and Pharmacy all filled Fore Street The physical buildings remain more or less the same but their form and function have changed to service the hoardes of wealthy Airbnbers and luxury hotel visitors who flock to Cornwall every year.
As a visitor myself I am as much a part of the problem as anyone who has travelled further to enjoy the beauty and texture of the place.
In this old Fishing and Pirating Port , tourists have become the catch of the day and buccaneers treasure chest all rolled into one.
Shops and businesses change hands and function almost overnight. We have become loyal customers to specific buildings not so much the business operating within it.
Hot Chocolate @SaltSociety Fowey.
Three generations of family and friends have shared the joy of Fowey on day trips and weekend breaks. The Boom years of tourism. But what comes next.
The tin merchants of 4,000 years ago could not have imagined the Piracy of 400 years ago. Just as I struggle with the changes of 40 years of tourism. Casting forward 40, 400 or even 4,000 years what will be the niche business of Fowey?
Pondering the future during Twixtmas. Round and round , mind meandering at its best.
P.S A glorious shop window viewed from inside. Giant Quality Street Sweets.
This picture is a good representation of how my mind feels pondering all that future Fowey…
I would say my political views have not altered too much over time but my view of politics has changed greatly, and more recently that change involves fear and anger for where the world is heading.
I always think the portal between worlds feels a little more open at Christmas time. Occluded only by a gossamer thin pellicule that love passes through and is more tangible . I don’t just mean between those we loved who have passed over but also with those who cannot be with us in person. Divided by miles or circumstance.
I was reminded of this yesterday during our visit to Fowey.
The Tamar Valley has been my practically placed home base for 37 years. Fowey has been where my fantasy heart resides for far longer.
Everyone we hold dear has been with us to Fowey. I went with my parents when we were on Cornish Holidays and it was the first place I drove to when I moved to the Tamar Valley in 1988.
I always think the outdoor seating area at Bufala, and as it was previously known Toll Bar is like a location for some personal Magical Realism. It would need to be much bigger because I have probably sat out there with 40 to fifty friends and family at different times in my life. Sunburn and windchill being seasonal risks. And now mass tourism has squeezed us out to visits only in the quieter months. My apologies to all F&F who have not been there. Your time will come.
I could go on about Fowey but as this is about people and love here are 3❤️ snippets from the day.
Kylie and Dan 2016. Fowey.U.KMe and Kylie 3 weeks ago. Mount Eliza Australia
Sometimes if we are very lucky work friends become heart-fit-to-burst friends.
The same goes for neighbours.
Seagull perches on Crow, yesterday Keith, our London neighbour in Fowey Dec 2016. A crow perched on his shoulder.
The last little heart snippet is very hard to explain.
Lola
Regular readers will know that our much loved dog Hugo crossed to another realm two weeks ago. We are navigating the experience of canine mourning. Lola has become a very sleepy and restful woman until we take her to places filled with humans and dogs. Fowey is such a place. Yesterday she was in full love-a-stranger mode. In particular she overwhelmed two men who absolutely gave her the best tickles and hugs and then sadly told us they were mourning dog loss of their own. We had not nentioned our loss until after they did.
Then the same happened with a woman in an interiors shop. Visibly upset from the moment of Lolas love bombing she explained that her heart was so broken from losing her dog she could never consider getting another. We were fine with her tears but her adult children, not so much. They ushered her out of the shop. Thankfully Fowey is a confined ribbon of a main street. Lola caught up with her in another shop and created smiles with her new stranger friend.
Lola seems to have developed some sort of doggy empathy. The Season of goodwill in canine form.
What are the highlights of an Old Mortuary Twixtmas. Leftover food would be a good conversation starter. Rather like a family of hibernating bears we stock up a bit at Christmas time to have nice things in the cupboard until the Spring. Yesterday was the great festival of left overs.
Bubble and Squeak. Gorgeous patties of left over Christmas Veg served with eggs and bacon as a brunch after a lazy start to the day, perusing our Christmas books. Followed by lunchtime in the pub drinking hot, warmly spiced cider. Pubs have to have a bit of history for me, and as this one has been offering food and friendship to travellers heading further west since 1678. It more than fulfills my exacting criteria.
Gently home then to more books, T. V and more left overs. Turkey sandwiches for the evening offering. Served with crisps.
Culinary delight in our house. Not a sophisticated menu in sight!
An itinerary of our day is not exactly a ponder but there is much to ponder in the enjoyment and creation of left over food. Because of the unpredictability of what exactly has been left over.
This year the parsnips and red cabbage were great for our Christmas dinner. The sprouts, always controversial, were a little lack lustre. The roast potatoes were Gold Star and were consequently almost all eaten at Christmas Dinner. So the Bubble and Squeak lacked the heft of a solid potato base this year. The carbohydrate responsibilities fell to the parsnips. Lighter and sweeter our breakfast brunch staple transformed itself into something much more glamorous. Bougie even!
Similarly the Turkey Sandwiches were anything but standard. Just a little turkey left over required some improvisation. The addition of some ham and stuffing, moistened by a little bread sauce elevated the whole thing to something that might have been served in a very fancy place.
Honestly one of the better years for leftovers. I think we may have one more solid day of over catering and then I can make a start with my new Pasta Cookbook.
Padella was on my early morning walk home from night shifts. Tucked into a corner of Borough Market.
This book was purely on my Christmas List because of the smells that used to haunt this corner of Borough Market. I never ever ate there. Already I have found a recipe that uses left overs. My Twixtmas food list has some new inspiration.
In other Borough Market inspo there is a wonderful cafe that serves Bubble and Squeak all year. Another smell sensation on my walk home.
Not just me either.My birthday twin stops there too.
Twas the first day of Twixtmas. Or Boxing Day for some of us.
The giddy excess of Christmas Day is over and we have 6 days left of the old year. 6 days of exploring new books, toiletries, candles, maybe some early clearing out. 6 days of nibbling in the foothills of the festive food mountain. 6 days to savour the gift that is a loving family. Fascinating friends and a solid house to call home. 6 days of pondering Christmas Pasts.
For no particular reason I spent some time pondering Brian Bilston’s poem.
Two reasons. I am a woman of simple needs at Christmas, and indeed life. Family, friends, some travel , some kindness, health and happiness. Positivity where possible. Yes there are dark moments but valuing and storing the good vibes helps out in the more uncomfortable and distressing moments of life.
For many years I shared Christmas with a woman who, valued and relished negativity. She views life and other people with the sharp acidity of lemon juice on a mouth ulcer
Christmas always demonstrated the chasm between our outlooks. How would she use Brian’s Poem as inspiration for her Christmas experience and how would I. Who knows?
To be clear she was as happy in her negative world as I am elsewhere and as generous as any other person in the festive season. Different viewpoints can be interesting and enlightening. Also infuriating.
The Christmas things we have opposing views on in no particular order are
Shortbread biscuits.
Why would anyone give shortbread biscuits at Christmas? Her
The year I gave her a big box and I received a smaller one.
A golden buttery treat to see me through the winter months. Me
Candles.
What would anyone buy me a candle for, I have lovely bright electricity.
The more the merrier. Me
Photographs of children
The non- genetic are more highly prized. Her
Twenty of the same three children, fabulous. Me
Not sure I get that, but each to their own, or not.
I could go on but that would be missing the point. How have these two very different women existed in close familial contact for more than 40 years.
Compromise in the public domain.
Respect and understanding of different life experiences.
An awareness that one of the greatest gifts of Christmas is the confidential invisibility of ‘ Thought Bubbles’
Honestly, without invisible ‘Thought Bubbles’ we would not have made it past the first Christmas.
A quarter of her is in the children that I adore and an eighth in the grandchildren who are loved and cherished. I would not have them different in any way. Maybe her gift of negativity is useful and strengthening for them with their abundance of positivity from all their other gene pools.
So to Brian’s poem of collective nouns I would add.
The big day has arrived. As is traditional, wrapping went on until the wee small hours. After an evening of food and fun powered over the finishing line.
Whatever shape your day takes. Enjoy the moments. See you on the other side.
I found this temporary sculpture yesterday. Doubtless commissioned as a photo opportunity. But beautiful in its own way without humans posing against it. I love the ambiguity of it. Are they Angels wings or Fairy?
Christmas has become for many of us the most delightful mash up of Sacred and Secular. Consumerist and cozy. Family and friends. Memories and Magic.
I nearly always overthink Christmas. Preparing for the present yet nostalgic for the past.
Studying Fine Art as a mature student, gave me a new mentor as I found the writing of Robert Hughes as an excellent guide to Art Theory. But his famous quote about Christmas baffled me when I first read it. I had completely forgotten my bafflement until I was standing near his plaque in Sydney two weeks ago.
Friends and their feet at a plaque to commemorate a favourite writer and thinker. Robert Hughes
So here I am having given myself renewed bafflement fresh from the sunshine of Sydney. Bafflement caused by a man who had rejected Catholicism for deeply personal reasons and yet mentions God in one of his often quoted quotes.
I suppose my circular counter argument would be that a deep winter celebration was much needed by early humans in the Northern Hemisphere.Short cold days can be relentless. Early Christians saw an opportunity and popped God into the mix by a convenient Birth of Christ Story to coincide with Winter festivals.
Bob is your Uncle and Christianity gets a popularity boost. Whose heart did it start in?
Actually Bob probably becomes your drunk Uncle who always appears with his slightly grumpy partner Sylvia whose family Christmas traditions do not involve being pleasant to anyone.
So wherever Christmas sits in your heart currently. Seasons Greetings.
I think we only started to engage with the Northern Hemisphere Christmas yesterday. For certain we have done Christmas admin for a few days but yesterday we went to gather with friends and strangers in a warm house, had good food, good conversations and gathered around a piano to sing Christmas Carols without a hymn sheet. 100 per cent accuracy of harmonies but maybe some of the words were a little erroneously placed. All part of the charm.
Exeter Cathedral on a previous occasion
The Christmas admin today took me to two of my favourite places. Exeter and The Barbican, Plymouth. Both places made me feel warm and fuzzy because like the harmonies of the night before success was 100 %.
Two images from earlier visits, nobody needs to see Exeter or the Barbican in the rain.
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