Category: Firestone Bay

#1282 theoldmortuary ponders.

On By theoldmortuary.designIn 2026, art, Family, Firestone Bay, Scrag End of Summer, Summer1 Comment
© theoldmortuary

One week left of August and I feel the itch and anticipation of the arrival of September. Although I have never formally worked in education I always feel the 1st of September is a far more significant New Years Day than the dreariness of the 1st of January. The summer months, especially the summer months of 2026 have imbued a more relaxed feeling to life in general and to my art based creative life. September 1st will be the time to galvanise and gird my arty loins.

Girding your loins means to prepare yourself physically, mentally, or emotionally for a difficult task, a hard challenge, or a conflict. It functions like saying “brace yourself” or “roll up your sleeves”.

The last of my, summer, arty play dates with granddaughters occurred this week.

She sailed off to France yesterday taking us from 3 arty workshop girls down to none.

I don’t buy any special, inferior, art materials for them . They use what I use. I fret a bit about my  fancy brushes but not much else. I do catch them diving into my store cupboard for stuff I haven’t laid out for them but so far we have not had any arty drama’s beyond the normal drama that 3 girls can create in any situation.

Official Summer 2026 has sailed. We are in the liminal space that I think of as the ‘scrag end of summer’

Scrag end is an inexpensive cut of meat from the neck of a lamb or mutton. It contains a lot of bone and connective tissue, but it is very flavorful and becomes tender when cooked slowly.

I very much enjoy the ‘scrag end’ of summer. It is more tender and a little slower, more relaxed and less pressured. Poignent because it is an end but enjoyable because, for now, the actual end is unknown and unexpected pleasures will occur before that happens.

#1279 theoldmortuary ponders

On By theoldmortuary.designIn Firestone Bay, Stonehouse, Summer, WordsLeave a comment
Firestone Bay

Heatwave 5/2026 has left Firestone Bay. Leaving the Bay and surrounding area with normal, unpredictable  August Summer Weather. This was the scene yesterday and the day before. The crowds of swimmers anxious to cool down have left the area. I had the water to myself for twenty minutes or so. Other bathers had just left and a few arrived as I left.

In a normal English Summer the bay would still be buzzing on a day like this. But 5 Heatwaves have made normal seem mediocre, lacklustre even.

More mediocrity.

Mediocre is not a word that is used often. It is one of those words that my synaesthetic brain loves.

Meaning neither good nor bad. It feels judgmental and not in a good way.

There are many things that I am pretty poor at doing. Doing them to a mediocre standard would be a considerable improvement. But if I were judged to have become mediocre that would not seem like a positive.

Good Enough is a phrase that feels similarly down beat when actually, for a lot of things , good enough is good enough.

Yesterday was  a little lacklustre, mediocre even, but good enough in its own way.

Who wouldn’t want a bay to themselves for a lunchtime swim.

#1278 theoldmortuary ponders

On By theoldmortuary.designIn art, Firestone Bay, Hybrid Printmaking, SerendipityLeave a comment
Partial Eclipse 2026, work in progress.© theoldmortuary

It is just over a week since I bobbed during the partial eclipse with 9 other bobbers. At the time the experience was both peculiar and beautiful.  Peculiar because we swam for virtually the whole of the eclipse experience. Quite often with special Eclipse glasses which gave us a completely safe experience to view the eclipse in real time, but our vision  was limited to black and red vision of the black moon obscuring most of an orange sun . While our bodies were experiencing the sensations of the sea and our ears were hearing the happiness and exclamations of a bay, full of happy swimmers.

When we didn’t have the glasses on we were experiencing ever changing highly saturated colours that slowly darkened and changed as the moon crossed the sun. One of my Eclipse glasses visions was of sparks of light like golden diamond twinkles firing off the perimeter of the sun. I think caused by drops of sea water on my eyelashes or on the plastic lens of the eclipse glasses.

I knew I wanted to create an image of the experience, but which one?

Until I decided to throw caution to the wind and put all my recollections into one image. Not as mad as you might think for someone who worked in medical imaging. For example a CT scan image is made of many amalgamated pictures taken from lots of different angles at slightly different times.

My hybrid printmaking technique with photography and painted or mono printed images uses exactly that technique, modified a little.

Yesterday I had to get a bit of a wiggle on to get this image off to a printer for a test run Giclee print. It is still not the finished article but I will need to see how a print looks.

So that’s where the image is currently but what about my personal recollection?

Really one of the loveliest things I have done in a really familiar home environment. I still haven’t quite found the words to describe the experience. But I have found the many layers of a half decent picture.

#1273 theoldmortuary ponders.

On By theoldmortuary.designIn Firestone Bay, Serendipity1 Comment

The Sunday Ponder. 50% of the Weekend.

The news article below is really interesting. I had weekends until I was 14 or 15 then a Saturday job ate up half of my weekend and school holidays. This continued through school and college until I stepped into a career that required 24/7 staffing. Weekends were an occasional treat until I retired from a ‘proper’ job and weekends and some days off in the week became normal.

I became Russian 1929-40 for most of my life.

https://www.theguardian.com/money/2026/aug/16/the-weekend-is-100-years-old-skiveday-fridays-and-hybrid-working-ruined-it?CMP=Share_AndroidApp_Other

It was my normal. On -call rotas do not respect weekends off. Reflecting back I realise why I have virtually no hobbies. Art could easily be squeezed into gaps in my schedule but I couldn’t commit to anything remotely team related. I dabbled in hobbies but nothing stuck. I wonder at people who are experts at a hobby or interest but realise I simply didn’t have the time or reliability.

Post retirement from a proper job, have I learnt to sail or joined a band as a sultry bass player. I have not. I do a lot more art, help to run a club and swim in the sea alone or with the Bobbers.On reflection would I give up weekends at 14, never to see them regularly again for 46 years? I would not, but it seems I may never have been a hobby or team kind of woman regardless of availability. Just two, water based, activities have featured regularly in my life but only after the age of 45 for gig rowing and 60  for sea swimming.

Sea swimmers and gig racing in the same frame.

Despite starting this blog early the day ran away with me. For some inexplicable reason we decided to clear the garage of stuff that we stored 5 years ago, when we moved in. Most of it was completely untouched in those 5 years. Most of it has suffered a bit from five years of storage, most of it will be going to the tip.

50% of a weekend well used.

Not all on a grubby job which is a virtuous thing in this heat.

Quite a lot of time was spent bobbing about in the sea.

We were not alone !

#1260 theoldmortuary ponders

On By theoldmortuary.designIn Beach Life, Devils Point, Family, Firestone Bay, Serendipity1 Comment

So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, goodbye.

Gathered together for a week in our house our granddaughters have gone to Austria. There is a plan for them to dance and pose on the Sound of Music Field, where the hills will be alive with an assortment of music. Chinese traditional tunes about mothers and the tunes from Frozen and Moana are more likely than The Hills being Alive.

With their departure there was, of course, increased domestic admin and a crack on with some postponed domestic paperwork. Domestic admin started early and was all on the washing line early. Grown up domestic admin of the paperwork variety had been allotted an hour but took nearer 3! We rewarded ourselves with a post high tide swim.

It occurred to me today that I never photograph our most used sea entry steps from the sea direction. Today the rocks were still wet and glistening from the lowering tide. Many shades of red, yellow and orange rock which beautifully demonstrate how Firestone Bay got its name.

Despite it being the first week of August the bay was quiet and we got a small sloping beach to ourselves for a half hour of sun worship. Then a quick swim back to these steps to dry off before walking home.

When I didn’t live by the coast there was always a poignant last visit to a favourite beach on any holiday.

This small bay is on my daily dog walk rota and I swim here most days in the summer and at least every week all year. I never have to think of any visit that it will be my last. Inevitably one visit, some time in the future a last visit will come

But after a week of small people in my bed the only last of the day is this.

No more small feet in my bed, until the next time.

#1343 theoldmortuary ponders

On By theoldmortuary.designIn art, Devils Point, Firestone Bay, Hybrid PrintmakingLeave a comment

My day was hijacked , first by a sound then an image and then later again by another image that just nagged away at me until I had sketched,painted and photographed it into existence. Until I was done.

Lola and I were out walking early this morning , almost from the start we were followed by the slightly worrisome and slightly exciting sound of someone hurrying with a suitcase on wheels. At one point we were overtaken by a woman who had laden herself with everything she would need for a day on the beach. She was a woman on a mission. As she sped past me I grabbed a quick photo which I have altered to anonymise . There was no beach, we were both walking at exactly high tide. She was way ahead of us and as I looked over the wall she was patiently waiting for some beach to appear. By the time we passed again, on our way back, she had claimed her spot on a tiny ribbon of wet pebbles.

She had unloaded and set up a one woman encampment. Sun lounger, parasols, cooler box and books. She was oiled up like a sausage on a barbeque . She was not alone, the thin strip of pebbles had grown and she had neighbours, but none who had hauled quite so much stuff.  When I got home I decided to donate her my empty beach of yesterday.

It was the least I could do. I had an interesting afternoon sketching her arriving on an empty beach then watercoloured and did a pen and ink sketch before sticking them all together digitally.

The Early Firestoner ©theoldmortuary

Sometimes I just have to get an image out of my system. I hope she had a great day, she really deserved it.

#1531 theoldmortuary ponders.

On By theoldmortuary.designIn Bobbing, Cornwall, Devils Point, Devon, Firestone Bay, Gardens and gardening, Plymouth, Stonehouse Lawn Tennis Club, Yardening1 Comment
Stonehouse Lawn Tennis Club Gardens

Gardening, Gig Rowing, Yardening, Gig Rowing. Saturday was the second day of the European Gig Racing Championships in Plymouth Sound. It was also Gardening Saturday at the Tennis Club I help to run. We could look up from our garden chores and watch gigs racing past our club.

While listening to classical guitar, from Walter who had swapped out his secateurs for something more beautiful.

The afternoon was Yardening time. Not by any stretch as exciting or colourful as the morning session. Some white wall painting and repotting of plants. But the entertainment was the same. This time watching the Gig racing on TV as we sought refuge from the sun.

The drone shots showing us what we know already.

That our tiny corner of Devon/Cornwall is rather lovely.

For regular readers and Bobbers, our normal bobbing area was one of the regular spots where race progression was filmed

Tranquility Bay.
Bobbers Steps behind the gigs.

I never managed to catch the tennis club on TV. That would have been a great drone shot especially as the gardens were freshly primped. A project for tomorrow. 

Link to small reel about the races.

https://www.facebook.com/share/v/17goonYrSw/

#1393 theoldmortuary ponders

On By theoldmortuary.designIn Firestone BayLeave a comment
Greige Day

What a greige day! Greige Day activities are damp dog walks, mindless domestica , working from home admin. Reading a good chunk of the freshly collected bookclub book and a little photo manipulation to the above image. Despite the greigeness of the day Firestone Bay near to the tidal pool was filled with the joyful sounds of a Sri Lankan New Year party carrying on nearby with no concern for the glumness of the weather.

If I add the joyful sounds and happiness floating over the pool the whole image takes on a different atmosphere.

However if I add the feeling of the absolute drama of the drenching that  Lola and I endured on our second walk of the day then things look different again.

Greige, it is not what it is but what you make of it.

#1387 theoldmortuary ponders

On By theoldmortuary.designIn Firestone Bay, Hugo and Lola, Plymouth1 Comment

The tale (tail) of Janners and Argyle.

Yesterday’s blog slipped off my schedule almost as my fingers hovered over the keyboard.

Lola had been let into the yard, the sun was out, and my neighbour  was clambering up a ladder in the sunshine. In that wrinkle in time the blog was lost.

He, my neighbour, asked me to unlock our back gate as one of his chickens was in my yard.  At that moment, out of sight, but not sound, Lola and the chicken met. Lola had the chicken under a citizens arrest with a very firm grip on its feathered armpit.  There was no catching them , the chicken broke free , scuttled into the house and I decided to leave them to their own devices whilst letting our neighbour in the back gate. Another human gave me a better chance of conflict resolution.

Armpit feathers

There was no sight or sound of them. 

We searched rooms. Lola appeared calmly on the stairs but no chicken.

A chicken bottom feather.

Just one chicken bottom feather laying on the stairs.

I thought I could hear a fluttery feather settling sound coming from the kitchen. Janner the chicken had escaped the jaws of Lola and returned downstairs and was roosting inside a dark bag that had been left on the floor.

Both chicken and dog had a winning look in their different locations. The chicken, victorious, by settling in enemy territory. Lola,perhaps, because she had driven the chicken downstairs and plucked a feather out of  Janners* enormous bottom.

Chicken and neighbour went home. Lola went into overdrive. Every moment of the chickens journey through our house  relived by sniffing and tracking every glorious moment of her hunting frenzy.

*I have no idea where a Janners apostrophe goes.

Two chickens, one named Argyle to honour the local football team. The other called Janner or Janners the collective name of Plymouth Argyle supporters. Or indeed Plymothians in general.

And that my friends is how the day started and I was given my earworm for the day.

Which leads nicely into the intended blog of the day.

To be continued… Link below for ease.

#1388 theoldmortuary ponders

#1354 theoldmortuary ponders.

On By theoldmortuary.designIn Firestone Bay, WordsLeave a comment
Firestone Bay.

One of my digital photo manipulation apps has a new ‘Romantic’ filter. I never normally use just one app or just one setting,preferring to amalgamate different settings from different apps to create a more unique and interesting image from my daily walks . But ‘Romantic’ seems to be a bit of a wonder filter.  My daily walk never looks like this but there is nothing in this picture that doesn’t exist at some time of day or at some time of year from this viewpoint. Never, though all together. My romantic head conjures up something similar to this when I am away from home and imagining what our regular swimming beach looks like. The other thing I love about this ‘Romantic’ image is that someone wrapped up warmly against the cold and sitting enjoying a cup of coffee is obvious in this digitally enhanced image. I had completely missed them on the original photo. Are they reading or sketching?

How do I even feel about romanticising things as someone who believes that I am a pragmatist at heart?

A deep dive into quick AI definitions throws my pragmatist belief into a quandary.

Honestly who could imagine a filter causing so much thought. If only the app had called it a beautiful filter that would have been fine. I would have tried it the minute it appeared on the drop down menu, but the word romantic put me off for several weeks.

Just another pair of words for me to float between.