We had a little lunchtime trip to Mount Edgecumbe on Wednesday. A day off from house moving stuff, exhibition stuff and tennis club stuff. The weather around the Wisteria was deceptive. We were blown about when we later walked on the parkland but none of that is the subject of this blog.
The glorious Wisteria sent me searching in my photo archive for a series of photographs of a special Wisteria spider that I photographed on my own isteria some years ago. My apologies to spider haters but I was really thrilled to get a photo of the spider actually making the silk for her web.
This should have been the focus for the blog, but while searching for the spider I found a cat.
I have been looking for this image in my archive for years and never been able to find it, despite using all the right key words. I took this picture a few years ago in Brixton Market and couldn’t believe my luck in getting such a brilliant piece of visual wordplay. No words can express how happy I am to have finally found this picture again.
I knew this photo had to be somewhere, I am so very pleased to have located it again. Suddenly Thursday has been gingered up!
Not exactly a low tide blog today. But ‘ Tide and Time wait for no (wo)man.’
My personal tide has been a little on the low side, hence the somewhat late Friday Blog. I have been a blog gatherer with so much new stuff to write about and no time to do it.
Hardening off near the looks.
The last two days have been a bit mad, planned things failed to materialise and unplanned things filled the gaps.
My usual early morning blogspot was taken by early morning photography for a Tennis Club that I do a little Social Media work for.
Then every available moment to blog was filled with imperative stuff. The most exciting, was taking delivery of this seasons art cards to be sold at exhibitions.
The first card has already gone to a new home as this evening we toddled off to a party and used one as a thank you card. Rather too much Prosecco was involved and, lucky for you all, I was only briefly guilty of over- sharing. Time to, moderately, share one of this mornings pictures of an old wheelbarrow taking a rest in the corner of the Tennis Club.
This morning was a bobbing morning and a small grandchild morning but not a blogging morning. The swim was sharp and crisp in a bright winter sunshine. Everything felt clean and fresh. We were not at an equilibrium, the outside air was 2 degrees cooler than the water temperature. I am still swimming in skin rather than a wetsuit so there is no faffing about really. Just in, then out to get colder and then in and the water feels warmer, not tropical exactly but just a little less cold.
In other news Drawn to the Valley had a Creative Table event at Ocean Studios yesterday.
Extra excitement was caused by the delivery of two old print machines. One was not quite unpacked but here is the badge of the one already installed.
Last weekend I collected some lovely textures from Marylebone High Street. Possibly my favourite High Street in England. I know it like the back of my hand and after a three year absence it felt as familiar as ever. It is decidedly upmarket and glam but holds all the shops you should expect from a normal English High Street. Supermarkets, charity shops, butchers, bakers, cafes and chemists.
Hardware Store
I’ve walked Marylebone High Street with so many friends,family and colleagues. Attended summer fetes and Christmas Markets, all with a little more twinkle and pizzazz than normal. I have left a little part of my heart in Marylebone.
Charity Shop
It is always good to step back into a place that has so many happy memories. A place to give thanks, to absent friends and fabulous moments.
Yesterday was a surprise in many ways. Most significantly it did not rain anything like as much as predicted. Impending wet weather gave the morning a sepia tinge. My working day at the local museum was somewhat dull, many of the exhibition spaces are in a state of flux with old exhibitions coming down ready for a change. In consequence there were not many visitors. The Museum offers excellent facilities for family history research. So on a whim I sat down and had a dabble at a family tree.
The minute I started to achieve relative success the day began to feel even more sepia as old documents flashed up before my eyes. In honesty I don’t really know what I am doing, so half an hour of success had fished out more than enough information for a first day.
I had dabbled with a family tree once before and found an unknown, but close, relative had done a huge amount of research which was available on-line. I was impressed and wrote via the website to add myself to his family tree. While I had no expectation of a grand reunion so beloved of the media. I had thought that when doing a genetic jigsaw every little piece has some value. Not so in this case,he clearly preferred his relatives to be dead and historic, not current and breathing. No thank you email ever found its way to me. My brief foray yesterday did not uncover his precious resource so perhaps it has been removed to keep live people out of his way. He may also no longer subscribe… Who could guess?
The lack of visitors did not cut down on my talking at the museum. What I lacked in numbers I made up for with two exceedingly long interactions. One was with a very inebriated man who’s intensity of conversation took many intriguing twists and turns to unexpected places. The other was with a regular visitor who talks in ever expanding circles that then with no warning snaps back to the exact same point that he started at, many, many minutes before. Sometimes it is fascinating to be included in another, unknown persons mindscape without any responsibility or limited timeframe. Maybe a little like reading an unknown persons blog.
Some days not much happens, here is clip to show how the header artwork was created.
It was 2:30 today when I completely realised that today was Wednesday and not Thursday. By then I had achieved most of the things that needed to be achieved by Thursday on Wednesday.
So tomorrow stretches ahead with nothing more taxing than a hair cut. By tomorrow November will be over and December will be on it’s glitzy slightly camp match towards Christmas so today’s miscalculation has inspired me to share some old photos. November is a great time to take photos if the weather is good.
If the weather is not good then November can feel like an endurance. So farewell November see you in 2023.
It will come as no surprise to anyone that @theoldmortuary has no experience as marathon runners or other extreme sports. So we have never experienced survival blankets. You would never expect to be introduced to a survival blanket by a five week old grand-daughter. Rather intriguingly in her sensory box there was a whole adult sized survival blanket. Who knew that a collection of sensory toys could exhaust her accompanying adult to the point of exhaustion.
I rattled things and twirled ribbons with caution being really quite unaware when fatigue might overwhelm me. The small person was not remotely interested in having her senses stimulated at any level so there was no chance of me deserving the survival blanket. Deserving or not I donned the survival blanket and was amazed at how quickly I became very warm.
On a practical level I might but some survival blankets for winter swims, just in case we get too chilly. On another practical level the blanket is in a baby sensory box so she can enjoy it’s silvery crinkly surface. And on a last practical level I am writing about a Survival blanket because nobody wants to read about a long rainy journey with many detours. There was no rainbow at the end of my travels but there was blue skies and a small girl with a Sensory box.
November has properly arrived. My first use of the word ‘greige’. Greige is my own word for a curious greyness that envelopes this part of the west country in the winter months. Definitely rain is a big part of greige, mist is another. The other aspect is mental. October flirts with our senses. Teases us into believing a little more sunshine might be on the agenda. November arrives and the weather wraps around our souls like a damp, mildewed sock. Luckily Guy Fawkes and his failed Gunpowder plot are celebrated on the 5th November. The night air is filled with crashes and bangs and our skies are lit up with bright flashes of happiness.
Nature also gets in on the act, thanks to a warmer than normal October there are a few dandelion heads still hanging about. Pretending to be fireworks with the help of street lights.
Hard on the heels of yesterday’s blog of favourite photos is the last of my little digital haul. I have no idea if more domestic organising will fill our day so it seems a good idea to get the blog out early. The Peacock lived near Cadiz in Spain he roamed a nursery that was set in a derelict old house and garden that also had a cafe in the old greenhouse area. Seeds from our bread bribed him to pose so beautifully. The wonderful staircase below was also taken somewhere near Cadiz. For some reason, I want to use the word Lacuna to describe the negative space created by the spiral.
I think it is the bone-like quality of stonework.
Taking bone-like as the link this next picture is also from near Cadiz and leads us somewhere.
But in true pondering style not to a particularly related photo. Yesterday I had an existential moment, not of the particularly philosophical sort. More of a David Attenborough moment, even that makes it seem very grand. The reality is much more mundane and happened on the tyre of my car on the way to the charity shop. Like many people I often have mixed emotions when I watch wildlife documentaries. In awe of the camera work and yet slightly concerned for the mental well-being of Camera operators who have to sometimes witness sad events unfold without being able to intervene. Yesterday I was that camera person.
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