Category: blogging

#1513 theoldmortuary ponders.

On By Juliet CornellIn blogging1 Comment

How do you write what people actually want to read?

The sun sets on the Autumn Equinox. When day and night are equal. Daylight wise it is all downhill from here untill the Winter Solstice. We filled our twelve hours of daylight wisely, finding a camping pitch with an excellent sunset and swimming in a big sea pool in the heat of the day.

This sea pool was the main reason for us to want to visit Etél.The pool is so big I couldn’t fit it into one shot.

Unlike my, almost daily swims, this summer at Tranquilty Bay, there is almost nothing to consider when swimming in the peace and warmth of Etél. No waves, no currents, no rips and, protected by a lock, no massive tide height changes. But all the challenges of Tranquilty Bay have trained my swimming head to just let go and be in the moment which is still entirely doable in an ultra safe environment.

Swimming at Conleau Sea Pool yesterday. Caught in a sunbeam…

So back to the question. How do I write what people actually want to read?

Do I even do that?

Most people who read this blog are completely unknown to me and have stumbled on it. Some have had it reccomended to them. Others know me in real life and a few know of me from arty meetings. I must presume all of these people like that I write a blog about hyperlocal ordinary life.

This blog would not suit anyone who enjoys sea fishing, mixed martial arts or crosswords paricularly, but it might, you never know.

I jusr witter on about normal, often mundane life. Some people seem to enjoy that. To be honest I dont really try too hard, this is a diary of sorts. It is what any reader wants it to be.

#1407 theoldmortuary ponders

On By Juliet CornellIn art, bloggingLeave a comment

If you had to switch lives with a fictional character for a week, who would you choose?

Absolutely and without a doubt, a privelidged and well educated male spy or diplomat. I want the connections, an elegant apartment in central London and most importantly I want an extensive tailored wardrobe. If possible I would like my week of being a privelidged sort of fellow to be a week off , so no actual spying or diplomacy are being done. Just a week of hanging with my equally elegantly dressed chums, doing chap stuff like watching a top level sports match in an exclusive box, whilst sipping or quaffing a drink or two, and still have a razor sharp mind for a witty or erudite conversation, about my latest motorbike adventure and the pitfalls of a damaged sprocket. I would take my mother out to dinner and actually spend time talking and laughing with her.We would travel on a London night bus in our beautiful clothes to prove how in touch we both are with all levels of society, and we would go to a delightfully retro all-night cafe, to top up on unsophisticated calories because our dinner choice was so beautiful, exquisite even, that it failed to fully satisfy us.

At the weekend I would go to the countryside wearing tweed or to the coast wearing quiet luxury, and meet more well connected friends.Mindful that I would be running out of time as an extremely lovely and likable Alpha Male impersonator. My Saturday and Sunday would be spent talking about anything other than myself, in order that my week-long research into being a very lucky man has been as well used as it possibly could.

Would a week be enough? Could I become addicted to a life of testosterone and privelidged living?

Would my vocabulary alter to use words like rusticate or flunk instead of chucked out and fail.

Could I possibly wear waistcoats more often in daily life? Calling the garment a ‘weskit’*

Obviously before my week away as a chap or chum I would do some homework. The Guardian article above would be invaluable.It is well worth a read even without a fictional adventure into manhood. Pull up a chair and relax.

What would be my takeaway from this tiny adventure. Without it ever likely to happen, it would absolutely have to be the clothes. I worry that the combination of privilege and testosterone might quite turn my head, and no self respecting woman wants to run the risk of being a knob. Thank goodness for all the lovely men in the world who prove that that outcome is not always inevitable.

#1401 theoldmortuary ponders

On By Juliet CornellIn blogging, Words3 Comments

It is Fig time, I eat them and often paint them. Today I learnt a new empowering word. Foundress.

I am almost as thrilled with the word ‘foundress’ as I was when I discovered the word ‘mistresspiece’.

This all came about because I arranged a still life for a future painting. 6 figs on my favourite plate.

At the time I pondered if the irregular area , obvious on a cut fig was anything to do with a fig wasp.

The life cycle of a fig wasp is an interdependent, lifelong cycle spent entirely between the inside of a fig’s flowering structure (called a syconium) and flight to a new tree.

On entering the syconium a female wasp becomes-

The Foundress

Finding a tree: A fertilized female wasp (the foundress) flies to a receptive fig tree guided by its specific scent.Squeezing inside: She enters the syconium through a tiny, tight opening called the ostiole.Sacrificing her body: The opening is so narrow that she typically breaks off her wings and antennae while squeezing through.

Pollinating flowers: Once inside the hollow cavity, she brushes against the flowers and transfers pollen she carried from her birth fig.Laying eggs: She inserts her egg-laying tube (ovipositor) into the ovaries of the tiny flowers to lay her eggs.

The mother/ foundress fate: Her job finished, the original female wasp dies. Enzymes in the fig dissolve her body.

Larval growth: The eggs hatch into small larvae (grubs) after several days.Feeding inside galls: Each larva feeds on the surrounding plant tissue inside a protective swelling called a gall.

Wingless male wasps emerge from their galls first. The males mate with the female wasps while the females are still trapped inside their galls.The wingless males chew an escape tunnel through the wall of the fig for the females, then die inside the fruit without ever seeing the outside world.

Before leaving their birth fig the newly fertilized females pass by the male flowers and become covered in fresh pollen.Restarting the cycle: They fly out through the tunnel made by the males to locate a new flowering fig tree and repeat the cycle.

You may have to read this a couple of times.

No Fig wasp comes out of this alive, there are no happy endings.Lady wasps are held captive until they are fertilised. Gentlemen wasps die building an escape route that they will never use.

My love of figs as subjects for painting and eating figs seems cruelly nonchalant compared to the eternal circle of tragedy experienced by the fig wasps.Even the discovery of a new-to-me word seems pretty trivial with this tale of brief, tragic life and certain unpleasant death. From start to finish this has the feel of an epic drama.

Foundress, though, the word does sound rather fabulous. I sense it will never be the plot for a film or book

Six figs on my favourite plate.

P.S this is a trial blog, using new software

#1400 theoldmortuary ponders

On By Juliet CornellIn blogging, Serendipity1 Comment
Green Smoothie on a cafe table. Almost an Alien Seascape

It has been a busy week. So busy, I was unaware that theoldmortuary had pondered its way to #1400 blogs in the most recent iteration of blogs.

The Garden Painter started things off in South London.

Pandemic Pondering straddled the London/Cornwall years.

theoldmortuary ponders is Devon based.

The Garden Painter was a blog , exploring my immediate post-graduate of Fine-Art years as  a full time radiographer doing art in our South London back garden in the snippets of time available . The Garden painter blog was even more infrequent than the snippets of time. It has not been archived, or maybe I need to look harder. The blog covered a 10 year journey of exhibiting all over London and learning how arts organisations run.

Pandemic ponderings started on the first day after an Art exhibition I had helped to plan was cancelled due to the Covid outbreak

Pandemic Ponderings #1

#theoldmortuary ponders started on a blogging course on 10 th October 2021. For no particular reason, except that at some point, thank goodness the pandemic was going to run out of steam. So why not just jump to a new title on a random Saturday. Covid had the last laugh, I caught Covid for the third time during that weekend.

#1 theoldmortuary ponders.

In researching these two ‘first’ blogs I realised that at some point in July of this year I got my numbers wrong.

My blog numbers sequence dropped a 100 blogs.  This is irritating but not wholly unusual , I am quite disnumeric. It goes hand in hand with my synesthesia.

I really have to concentrate when numbers are involved. When required I can do maths to a reasonable level because I have had to learn to do so, but in a relaxed place my head is a little frightened of numbers. Blogging is certainly a relaxed place, my punctuation suffers , not as often as my numeracy, but it still suffers.

So there we are, #1400 when I thought I was on #1300.

There were just under 1,000 Pandemic ponderings. Even I can add up 1,400 and a 1,000 . There were not really many The Garden Painters so at a rough guess that is about 2,400 blogs over 16 years. That is a lot of pondering. Thanks for pondering along with me.

#1289 theoldmortuary ponders.

On By theoldmortuary.designIn blogging, Bobbing, BreakfastLeave a comment

Farewell August, you have been particularly fine this year.  August is never one of my favourite months, nor is it one I actively dislike. It is the bringer of shorter days and unpredictable weather. I will never be a fan of shorter days, but after a summer of heatwaves from May onwards, the unpredictable nature of August has been delightful. Two days running we have been dodging really heavy rainfall . Which is pretty normal for late August. Usually it is a little dispiriting, but compared to the baking days of most of our summer, the rain felt like a welcome and quirky distraction.

Breakfast, blog and dog spot

During August and the heatwaves, Lola and I have developed an early morning routine of walking to the seafront most mornings. The timing being the difference in our routine rather than the destination. Late August’s slightly cooler weather brought a new changed routine. The timing was less heat specific but I would take breakfast with us and we would settle in one of the alcoves overlooking the sea.

Lola, in camouflaged comfort, waiting while I have a swim, write a blog or just take in the views before we both tuck into breakfast before heading for home.

Going forward I wonder if we might stick to this rather lovely breakfast, blog and solo bob habit.

Thank you August.

#1352 theoldmortuary ponders

On By theoldmortuary.designIn blogging, Bobbing, Serendipity1 Comment
Summer Bobbers.

What’s a promise you made to yourself that you’ve actually kept?

8 summery bobbers met yesterday for our regular weekly swim. About half of the number of registered bobbers who turn out at Firestone Bay in all weathers to swim, chat and eat cake.

If there was anything positive to come out of the Covid era this group of acquired aquatic friends is my favourite thing.

There is nothing good about my swimming. I am not fast, strong or stylish. But during the Covid years I learnt that being in the sea, bobbing about was something that I loved doing.

Before the Covid era I was not someone who made promises to myself. I was fortunate, a boomer, a post-war child born into an optimistic era. Too young to understand the threats of the Cold war. Covid was the first time I felt threatened in a way that was beyond the control of  myself, society or the world. I promised myself I would keep swimming with the bobbers and keep writing a daily blog.

Faced with a Global Pandemic those were the only two intentions I had to battle an invisible enemy. Written down that looks quite pathetic. Also as promises go they are hardly earth shattering.

But history will probably call us the Covid Generation. The big stuff will be researched and discussed at conferences and academic institutions. But the little stuff is what we all had to do to get through.I do little stuff.

5 years ago we were just emerging from Covid restrictions. We attended a wedding. The blog I wrote on that day is below.

Pandemic Pondering #487

My promises to myself may well be a bit inconsequential but so far I have stuck with them and that is good enough for now.

Reflecting on this I realise there were two pivotal moments that made both blogging and swimming both possible and promisable.

In early Covid I was recalled back to work in London. At the time I was living in Cornwall. Even in normal times that would be a near impossible commute. Had that happened there would be no sea swimming.

In early 2020 I had been accepted to train as a theatre critic,  barely had the email landed when Covid arrived stamping its big gnarly foot on training or aspiration of any sort. Had the Theatre Critic thing happened there would be no blogging.

My tiny promises were created by a massive global  crisis.

#1534 theoldmortuary ponders.

On By theoldmortuary.designIn blogging, Serendipity1 Comment
Putting my feet up.

We are doing some extra grandchild care while my daughter recovers from a broken shoulder. The yard has gained a new facility. A paddling pool, after a day of frenetic activity the pool is a warm and peaceful spot to write a blog. The early morning dog walk is done and my next commitment is two hours away.  One of my early morning habits, a new one to go along with Wordle*, is to read my old blogs written on this day. I have enjoyed revisiting the last few years. They are all like old friends. I am a bit critical of some and wonder if they quite hit the right tone. But I remind myself that they are all about preserving the details of a day. In the spirit of putting my feet up I thought I would share the 7th of July with you all.

My Place-Brixton East

Pandemic Pondering #469

#261 theoldmortuary ponders

#654 theoldmortuary ponders

#971 theoldmortuary ponders

#1353 theoldmortuary ponders.

July 7th 2026 has some predictable shape. Not thrilling, I will admit, but life is not all about the big ticket items.

A robotic lawn mower demonstration.

Some tennis club admin.

A quick dip in the sea.

Some art.

Of all of the 7ths of July, the one I most enjoyed revisiting was the 2017 one. Brixton East, a fantastic gallery space in London. 9 years later it has disappeared and is now a very swanky venue for weddings, celebrations, photo shoots and product launches.  I mourned the loss of the space for artists and easy accessibility to a beautiful space. Sadly in these 9 years it is not the only exhibition space to be reimagined as something different. Beautiful spaces to show art are becoming increasingly difficult to find.

Onwards to my day, I have a robot waiting for me.

#1509 theoldmortuary ponders

On By theoldmortuary.designIn blogging, Books, history, Serendipity2 Comments

Something is up in blogland. Inexplicably my reader stats for this year have jumped. Not quite half way through the year my blogs have already been read by the same  number of people who read my blogs in all of 2025.

A red letter day of sorts. It seems appropriate to share the blogs of past June the 15th’s.

Pandemic Pondering # 89

Pandemic Pondering #447

#239 theoldmortuary ponders

#632 theoldmortuary ponders.

#948 theoldmortuary ponders.

#1321 theoldmortuary ponders.

Some time hopping for you all. Which is a really crafty way of throwing in a book review. This morning I was awake early finishing a book that I have loved. I just couldn’t quite finish it last night.

Time hopping in books is either to your taste or not. No spoilers here but the time hopping element in this book is as near perfect as any that I have read.

And if that were not enough the book stops almost exactly where my blogs for June 15th start. In a shop just after restrictions were lifted post Covid

Picture from June 15th 2020

In another quirky little coincidence the bakery, where I bought this doughnut, has been in business for 5 centuries. The exact time span of Tracy Chevalier’s book. Life is every bit as strange as fiction.

My 5 year effort seems pretty tame compared to 5 centuries.

#1451 theoldmortuary ponders.

On By theoldmortuary.designIn blogging, Serendipity1 Comment

This day in history. I have been blogging for 9 years. Here are some posts from 28 th May for the last 9 years. Only 7 because blogging wasn’t always a daily habit.

The prettiest site for a music festival

Pandemic Pondering #71

Pandemic Pondering #429

#624 theoldmortuary ponders

#930 theoldmortuary ponders

#931 theoldmortuary ponders

#1303 theoldmortuary ponders

Listed for me just as much as anyone else. This blog is illustrated by the communal yurt at the campsite. I suppose communality is the link word. I write these blogs for my personal pleasure, as a record for my family and to record a normal life in the 21st century. I have chosen to throw them out into the world and a small community has gathered around them.

28th May, not much happened and yet so much happened.

#1375 theoldmortuary ponders.

On By theoldmortuary.designIn blogging, SerendipityLeave a comment

So much for me being inspired to be creative yesterday. There were good creative intentions but there were some tedious domestic tasks that also needed attention. Somehow they became the focus of my need to be creative. And when I say tedious they were really very dull. Stuff needed to go into the roof space. Other stuff needed to come down. Car detritus from the old car needed sorting and put in the new car or the camper van. Along with daily domestica. However all those dull things achieved gave me  a power burst and I framed some pictures, which is not the creativity I aspired to but is actually creative in its own way.

Two paintings are the illustrations for today. Done on 26th March in years past when my muse did not direct me to domestica. The 27th has not bloomed either, maybe the muse was just teasing me.