Bobbing and bobbers are a regular feature of this blog. Less than 10% of the blogs get a mention because they follow more or less the same structure every time. This is a blog that celebrates the everyday mundanity of life by finding nuggets to ponder. But even I know the detrimental effect of pondering the same nugget too often.
However last night’s bob was special we were all naked.
Sarah, in the middle of this group wanted to walk naked into the sea for her 60th Birthday. It would have been unbobber-like to let her do it alone. Tide and time were perfect yesterday evening.
What a fabulous experience, more laughs and a birthday wish completed.
Every picture tells a story. But in this case it will take two pictures.
Plymouth is celebrating the 100th Birthday of one of the most famous artists who has lived in the city.
On Saturday we went to one of the liveliest celebrations of a 100th Birthday you could imagine. A silent disco in a museum. I’m not sure if I would have blogged about our attendance but I was having a clean washing grump this morning. Bemoaning in my head that I am sick of the dull colours that emerge from the winter weekend laundry cycle.
But hiding in the corner of the laundry picture is evidence of a night out in fancy dress.
My 1940’s tiger print fake fur coat had her moment. I went to the disco dressed as the flashing woman in the top picture of a video about the life and work of Beryl Cook.
Luckily although I flashed a lot, there is no photographic evidence.
Our fitness trackers, tracked more than 5 miles of dancing. That would not have been achieved in a heavy coat. So she took a rest on the back of a chair while more light weight leopard print garments did the hard yards of the 5 miles of dancing. A bit more flashing as I left and the night was done. Of course it was an outing with the Bobbers. 6 of us on this occasion.
Surely Spring must be on the way. And with it a brighter laundry pile. But the coat is evidence that not all winter garments are dull and practical.
The coat in 2020 just a few days before the first Covid Lockdown.
The city was busy putting a party face on yesterday. Everywhere Christmas decorations and lights were going up to welcome in the Festive Season. We chose a cosy harbour pub for a birthday lunch.
Decorations of a different sort had been released into the sea by our swimming zone so there was no birthday bob to celebrate the passing of another year.
One birthday gift came with some intriguing facts. When we first lived in London we lived in Dulwich Village.
A rather lovely spot that has had a soap fragrance created with the same name.
Named in 967 AD for the Dill Fields that scented the area.
Not a Dill plant in sight when we lived there. The overall fragrance was Affluence and Privilege, it was a fabulous place to people watch and enjoy baked goods from a Gails Bakery. ( Gails Bakery is a very contentious subject in the world of Baked Goods) Hated by independent bakeries all over London.
Now I love an Independent business, one of the many reasons we chose to buy a flat in Crystal Palace. But living in London requires almost everyone to work very long hours. I often caught the first train out in the morning a full two hours before any independent bakery opened. I would return 12 or more hours later when any self respecting independent would have sold out and closed up. My independent loving heart would have been starved of baked goods were it not for Gails. A freshish sourdough loaf at 7pm is better than a sold out and closed for the day independent. And infinitely better than anything a supermarket could serve up.
Giving this blog a rather rags to riches theme. Although in my case, Effluence to Affluance. Sewage in the sea to middle-class bakery angst by way of a birthday natter. Rather a classic ponder in my humble opinion
Happy Birthday to me. 68 circles around the Sun. It seems like only yesterday since I was celebrating 5 circuits around the big yellow thing in all our skies. In 68 years I have gained a wonderful set of family and friends. Some have left me along the way, but they trail my circumnavigations within the firmament represented as bold and twinkling stars. Let’s do this and see what the next 365 days brings.
There has been a touch of tulip mania in our house over the last three days. Bunches of birthday flowers arrived and filled our available vases.
And then a new vase was gifted. A plump pair of buttocks just screaming to take on the overload from our existing tulip supply. Tulips are my favourite thing to photograph in late January. Normally they take over from daffodils but this year, despite us living in the corner of the country where daffodils first grow we have yet to buy a bunch. 80% of cut flower daffodils sold around the world come from Cornwall.
It was only in late December that I realised that in all my yard care of last year I had failed to replant our bulbs in the autumn. My mind taken up with climbing plants and trellis.
With a house full of tulips my weather wish for today is sharp shafts of sunlight to show them off in photographs. The ones illustrating this blog were all taken with artificial light and then tweaked. Let’s hope for better light today.
A not so funny thing happened and then I had a birthday when two funny things happened. A few weeks ago, as a diligent clothes recycler, I had created a pile of clothes to go to the Charity/Op shop. All good stuff that I no longer needed. An improptu trip to a small local town gave me the chance to drop the bag of clothes and household items. There was a warm glow of a job well done as I skipped into the shop.
The warm feeling ebbed away over the ensuing weeks as my beloved Levi’s failed to put in an appearance from any clean washing piles. Somehow they had gone with other, much less loved garments to make money for charity. I shouldn’t feel bitter but I do.
Today I am 66 and guess what? A new pair of Levi 501’s popped out of birthday wrapping paper. This is the second time in my life that this has happened. Exactly 50 years ago the same thing was my 16th birthday gift. Those 501’s on that occasion came from a small shop called Len Smith in Sandpit Lane, Braintree. Those jeans lasted so long I know that these ones will outlive me if I can keep a hold of them. Another less traumatic thing this morning was some birthday money from my former mother-in-law. I wrote and phoned her to thank her after I had researched rambling roses to put on our yard wall. Her name is Brenda and I found a rose called Brenda which I will buy along with another called Rambling Rector to discourage our neighbours cats and chickens from taunting the dogs from a six foot high wall.
Brenda
Not everyone can encourage their mother-in-law to scramble on a wall with a vicar to deter pests.
Yesterday was a Bobbers birthday. Bobber Birthdays have evolved over the more than two years that we have been swimming as a group year round.
Inexplicably, the Bobber whose birthday it was, opted for a spa day rather than joining us at Tranquility Bay. Maybe the message above informed that decision. She missed out on a lot. A warship arrived to give her a sail past and there were the usual cakes and hot drinks. Because she was missing out on her birthday dip we called her and sang happy birthday down the phone. That mellifluous sound must have torn through the tranquility of the spa like a wax strip on lady parts
At Tranquility Bay though it was sung with enthusiasm and affection for an absent friend. The singing took our minds off chilly fingers and toes and inadequately dried crevices. What even is a Spa Day?
The was a touch of the Mediterranean and some mythology to last nights’ swim.
Mythology because it was a bobbers birthday and the cake was so soft and gorgeous that it required cake forks. Definately styled on Neptunes Trident if Neptune would ever have considered a collaboration with Laura Ashley.
Mediterranean because the beach looked like this at 6:30 pm.
I’ve always been envious of summer birthdays, especially now I am a year round sea swimmer. Winter bobbing birthdays have their own vibe but a summer, bobbing, birthday has a far more relaxed feel. Less scrabbling into clothes more relaxed chattering.
Last night had perfect conditions but even without perfection the sea has been filling up with swimmers, this month, as the water slowly warms up. An average June temperature of 14 degrees was boosted a little, last night to 15 degrees. Suddenly the sea has the intimacy of a swimming pool, we are close enough to other swimmers to converse with people other than our little band of bobbers. Even the proper out to the third buoy swimmers had a little more competition for sea space. Now we have done a full second winter of sea swimming there is a familiarity to the circling of the sun. The topic of conversation in early June is how many of us can fit in two swims on the summer solstice and achieve the real life commitments of families and work. Sea swimming became so popular during the Covid lockdowns; now they can, cafes are opening early to offer early morning breakfast to the swimmers who are up for a 4:45 swim. What fabulous luxury, no more wrestling with baps, bacon and tinfoil before the early morning dip. Just the regular bap wrestling that is an integral part of getting dressed in the public domaine after a sea swim. One last watery image to clear your minds of the bap wrestling. Maybe the first day of summer in Stonehouse.
And a psychedelic birthday cake.
This slightly crazy image exactly replicates the lemony gorgeousness of last nights cake.
A birthday bob yesterday with some of the usual surprise guests. A warship sailing past as we are waiting to get in. We love a busy swim. However it may appear, we were not lined up to wave to homecoming sailors but were waiting for Spearmint the seal to swim away from our bay so we could start our swim. We love her but she is not invited to our Gatherings because there are restrictions and responsibilities that protect her. There was far more action in the next bay and attracted by the noise she swam off. We jumped in but probably had only ten minutes in the water before she returned. Current advice is to get out of the water and give her 100 metres space.
Clearly she was going nowhere this time, so we retreated to eat birthday cake. Some of us had hardly got our shoulders wet. There was great disappointment but copious amounts of cake cheered everyone up and nature provided the perfect birthday card.
This greetings card has a flavour of our Sunday morning.
Our view this morning is timeless, this view was a favourite of the author, Enid Blyton who chose this hotel for her holidays in the 1930’s and 40’s. She always chose the room next door. Have a good and gentle Sunday.
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