Author: theoldmortuary.design

theoldmortuary has been a blog for about five years. It has evolved into an almost daily event. Pondering on the things that are inspired by my daily life. Often mundane, sometimes repetitive I swerve from hyperlocal activity to big and small thoughts without blinking an eye. I am an artist and writer. My hometown is Plymouth in South West England, part of me will always be connected to London and another part loves to travel.

#698 theoldmortuary ponders.

On By theoldmortuary.designIn history2 Comments

Everyone reading this blog has lived through the same historical event.

What major historical events do you remember?

The Covid-19 Pandemic is unforgettable for every single one of us. Millions and millions of unique recollections of a global event stored in our memory banks. I have never been one to wish for advanced old age or immortality. Covid-19 gave me an intellectual and low grade fascination with how the pandemic will be viewed through the lens of passing time. I am fascinated by the changes, big and small that already affect our day to day lives. Covid-19 made me want to live to be a sparky 100 year old who can sagely point a finger and flash a twinkling eye before delivering a witty, eloquent and fascinating monologue on the day to day life changes caused by the pandemic. As expressed by a sweet old lady who has become, if not a ‘National Treasure’, then at the very least a ‘ National Trinket’. I already own the hat for my promo portrait. Just a few more years to live…

#697 theoldmortuary ponders.

On By theoldmortuary.designIn ponderingLeave a comment

A year ago my October morning dog walks were spent on Wimbledon Common. I was in London giving Nana support to my freshly delivered granddaughter. As is the nature of such a visit the weeks passed into rather a blur but walking on the common daily was a great way to experience nature starting the shutdown for winter.

I am not a winter person. Short days are not my thing. Now I am no longer constrained by working impossibly long days in a hospital I find October to be my most prolific walking month. Any excuse and the dogs are put on a lead and we go out for additional day time walks.

The photos that pop up in my image archive reflect this.

This spider web is from a Cornish October walk and a fresh one from this week is below.

I’m really not certain what compels me to be out and about quite so much. My need for daylight almost feels like a thirst. It helps that as long as there is no rain, October walks can still be taken in sandals and without a coat.

Autumn in its purest form is a fabulous season. I just feel conflicted by it.

I love the idea of Firework Night on the 5th of November, a strange celebration of a plot to blow up the Houses of Parliament. A British autumnal tradition that eases us towards winter . Just a few days earlier I dislike and avoid Halloween, with all its tacky plastic spookiness and begging children. But without Halloween I would not get to experience the beauty of pumpkins, and the adult I have become knows that Fireworks are really a very hard thing to defend for many reasons

So where am I with October and Autumn. There is an element of grieving for the summer past and anticipation for the festive season to come. Acceptance that there will no longer be warm days and the first inklings of planning for the festive season, something I love.

I think my need to be out and about , feeling nature in autumn turn towards winter is complex and only a recent discovery. Only obvious once I had given up full-time work in artificial light. Now I think I need to harvest daylight while I can. Something I would never have considered in my working life.

October. It makes you think.

#696 theoldmortuary ponders.

On By theoldmortuary.designIn Friends and Family, Serendipity1 Comment

A weekend of expected and unexpected meet-ups and conversations. All enjoyed in crisp autumn weather with sharp shadows and shades of vivid orange. The last time I sat on these cushions, in a coffee shop near Penryn, the Covid-19 Pandemic was nowhere near anyone’s horizon. At the time Penryn was a regular destination because I was studying at Falmouth University and my son lived nearby. Hard to realise that it is 4 years since we were last here and the had Covid-19 not happened there was a good chance that we would have relocated to live here for work and family reasons.

Yesterday we were here to find some long lost but recently found family members from Vancouver Island.

If I was struggling with the passage of four years our hunt for their airbnb was going to give me a bigger thwack with the memory stick.

The beautiful, but strangely named St Gluvius Church, on the road from Penryn to Mylor Bridge pulled me up sharply. It was such a shock to my system I didn’t even take a photograph to record the moment. 40 years ago I attended the wedding of some good friends there and through knowing them this area of Cornwall became one of my favourite corners of the world.

The friendship has not survived, eroded by changing circumstances and life events but how lovely that Penryn still makes me feel welcome however long I leave it between visits.

Funny how life is just a series of moments in a mosaic, some things planned and some things not. And we can never know, as individuals,when the bigger picture is complete.

And those we leave behind will never fully know our bigger picture because we have forgotten half of it ourselves

#695 theoldmortuary ponders

On By theoldmortuary.designIn Hugo and LolaLeave a comment

It has been a whirlwind of family interactions in the last few days. Some planned and some serendipitous. Our dogs love having an increased pack. Yesterday Hugo took a little time out and perched on a small dining chair as if it was the only place he could find a space for a five minute gap.

By coincidence the two British locations our family occupies are represented by these little books in the prayer book shelves.

What have you been working on?

In answer to the above question I imagine Hugo could be wondering where the Little Book of Hong Kong was for him to do research Then he would then fully be able to fall asleep surrounded by books that represent his entire human family.

#694 theoldmortuary ponders

On By theoldmortuary.designIn dog walks, ponderingLeave a comment
Incoming tide lapping at a back gate.

My dad was occasionally moved to say  ” I can read you like an open book, and some of the pages don’t read too well”  In life he was far from my harshest critic, and I think that statement could be  about right.

The question below was posed by the hosts of this blog. I really have a love hate relationship with these daily prompts and probably respond to one a week. This however is right up my pondering street because I can rant against it .

What’s something most people don’t know about you?

How can I possibly know what most people don’t know about me.

Is there anything to be gained by releasing my unknown nuggets of information to the world. At my level almost certainly not.

Thank goddess, I have largely moved on from the world of formal interviews and these sorts of daft bloody questions.

Where would you like to be in five years time?

Tell us about a difficult situation you handled well?

What is your worst characteristic?

Does anyone ever answer these questions honestly. Imagine a world in which such futile questions were answered honestly by people more significant than me.

And so Mr/ Madam World Leader. What is your worst characteristic? Where would you like to be in five years time? Tell us about a difficult situation you handled well? What’s something most people don’t know about you?

Suddenly with the addition of absolute truth futile questions could become the secret to world peace and effective life management.

As luck would have it my dog walking gives me an actual answer to present. It’s not going to affect world peace

My favourite book is Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Graham. Most people don’t know that. For the last two years my daily dog wanderings have taken me past an insignificant looking coastal cottage called Toad Hall. It is a daily little heart warming moment. Yesterday my heart got a lot warmer. Look what a talented Street Artist has done.

©@streetsaint

Happy Saturday blog friends

#693 theoldmortuary ponders

On By theoldmortuary.designIn Plymouth, Stonehouse1 Comment

Do lazy days make you feel rested or unproductive?

Another prompt from Jetpack that fires enthusiasm into my soul. Lazy days are the opposite of unproductive and being lazy is one of the most deliberate experiences to allow myself. I find lazy days to be some of the most productive, in terms of creative and useful thinking.

I probably had a lazy day yesterday, no actual commitments but a mental list of tasks that could be achieved with ease and some firm future plans put in place.

There is a car park right in the centre of the city which has broken payment machines. Two hours of free parking at least was the chance to walk the dogs somewhere different. They would be exhausted if I walked them there. Then demand a coffee break. I can’t imagine where they learned that habit. By driving them I could avoid coffee, which might still provoke a whimsical digestive system. I could window shop and visit a market while they were enthusiastically sniffing the urban realm. Everyone was happy.

Lazy days make little things really significant. I popped in to see a friend and her fruit bowl looked simply gorgeous with a cute little gourd posing on some plums.

On a busy day I might not have noticed.

Then a long, lazy walk as the moon popped up, no shops this time just the bay and the squeals of after-work swimmers.

The exact opposite of unproductive.

#692 theoldmortuary ponders

On By theoldmortuary.designIn WordsLeave a comment

I wonder if nasty viruses are a good way for people with normally robust health to live in the shoes of people who are less fortunate. After 24 hours of exploding insides I was left like a whimsical husk, unable to function in any useful way until my insides decided that they would permit half a can of flat coke and a small amount of plain pasta.

My best descriptive word for my state yesterday was flimsy and the previous few days were definitely queasy.

Goodness I love the word ‘flinsy’. I have not always used it wisely or in a kindly way. In my teenage years I described a friends new boyfriend as flimsy. I thought I was being kind and truthful but maybe finding something good about him would have been what a truly good friend would have done.

The other definition of flimsy is almost certain to be or to become extinct. Hand or type written reports were often created on triple layer stationary. A sandwich of normal paper for the original, ultra thin paper in the middle and thin card on the back. The ultra thin paper was often called the flimsy and most organisations had a special filing system for flimsies. Paper versions of credit card transactions were possibly the last incarnation of the flimsy as a noun.

#691 theoldmortuary ponders

On By theoldmortuary.designIn SerendipityLeave a comment

There is not a lot of pondering, or anything else going on here today. A few days of queasyness has turned into a bout of full-blown Noroviris. Bed to bathroom to sofa is my comfort zone. Briefly interrupted by one of my lovely children calling in to walk the dogs, and the other calling from a holiday in Hoi An, Vietnam. Thankfully the pillows I am languishing on is on a far more comfy sofa. This beautiful pillow and wall was captured in Hoi An and is just about as creative as I can get today.

#690 theoldmortuary ponders

On By theoldmortuary.designIn Home Towns, pondering1 Comment

I think it might be time to accept that autumn is in full swing and that summer and even an ‘ Indian Summer are behind us. These last couple of days have been liminal spaces with some spectacular sunshine but dropping temperatures.

This was the view two days ago,but last night our evening swim was a chilly, grey affair. The water temperature was a balmy 16 degrees while the air temp was 12 degrees. There was much talk about putting the heating on at home. Our winter swimming kit is slowly making an appearance and we didn’t linger on the street corner for an extended farewell natter. But moments later I did linger to take this picture of an autumnal leaf resting on a curb stone.

This gives me the chance to recount some second-hand Plymouth history.

As regular readers will know Plymouth was one of the worst harmed cities in Britain by the German bombing raids of World War II. I suppose this little historic ponder is about a small part of the clear up that followed.

So many of Plymouth’s historic streets were blown up,there had to be a very clear plan to salvage whatever could be reused when rebuilding began. I browsed an old book yesterday that described the aftermath as an ‘exploded’ city. The small detail of salvage included the collection of all curb stones from bomb damaged locations. Many of those curbstones carried scars from the devastation caused by shrapnel or hot molten metal from the fires that raged. As the city was rebuilt the salvaged curbstones were reused as streets were repaired and returned to normal use.

The location of this particular curbstone may or may not be its original location. It is an old cobbled street, now thinly covered with tarmac, very close to where there was some significant bomb damage. In the photograph above the autumn leaf has settled almost perfectly into the scar. A lovely visual analogy for nature healing the harm that humans cause.

#689 theoldmortuary ponders.

On By theoldmortuary.designIn SerendipityLeave a comment

When I moved to Cornwall in the 80’s from Brighton, life was not quite as idyllic as I had anticipated. The job I came to do was kicked into the long grass and rather than having a month to find my feet in a new area I had 6 months. 6 long, wet, lonely months. November is not the best time to move house and home many hundreds of miles from friends and familiarity. Luckily I had a small companion, a two year old son who could accompany me on my winter adventures in a strange land . The town I moved to, like much of Cornwall had an unhealthy reticence about welcoming people from ‘ Up the line’ In November toddler groups are part way through their term and our little team of two was turned away. Sometimes with the promise of being put on a waiting list. 35 years on I am still on more waiting lists than I care to think about. Undefeated I joined the National Trust and we set off on a two person adventure to learn about the history and geography of Cornwall in the short daylight hours of winter. It was an adventure and one that gave me the foundation for a life that I have mostly lived in the South West of England. The trouble is that sometimes I have missed a gem because back in the eighties certain places failed our not-too-high standards. Basically anything Pixie/Pisky related. Witchy the same and to a degree Smugglers if Wreckers were not included in the narratives. Poor cafe facilities or being over priced also got a bad mark. Some places I have never returned to.

Yesterdays trip to Golitha Falls is a case in point. From my recollection both Pixies and a poor cafe were involved.

What a chump I have been, not to have given the place a second chance until now!

No Pixies in the 21st Century and a fabulous cafe. Free parking and the most beautiful woodland river walk. Golitha Falls perhaps suggests a rather grander drop of water than exists but the area is beautiful and despite the carpark being full, really quiet once we were in the woods.

Golitha Falls is the location of the drowning of the last King of Cornwall.

King Doniert, not a name that has ever come back into fashion ,died in 875 either from fighting in the river or frolicking. Nobody knows. What is rather unbelievable is that these ancient woodlands would have looked pretty much identical to what we experienced yesterday.

Serendipity took us there yesterday. My, rather daft, prejudice against decades old tourist tat has denied me some rather lovely walks. Maybe I need to revisit some of the other places that were crossed off my list more than 30 years ago.

And how lucky was I to have 6 months exploring such a fascinating county with a 2 year old in his wellies.