What quality do you value most in a friend?
Friends are like flowers in a late Spring flowerbed. They are all unique and are perfect in their own ways and in their own time. Some are fleeting and others are perennial. I would find it hard to pick out a single quality that they have in common, but as an ensemble they are a fabulous bunch. Friendships, like these flowers all change over time but as long as we can all still get along does that even matter?
Oh the loveliness of concatination, and having friends in High Places. This shot from a TV shows my friend Jenny, standing on the outside walkway of the lighthouse on Plymouth Hoe. A T.V crew getting a much better view of the goings on at the Hoe yesterday than I did. She watched the T.V in case she was on, and she snapped this pic.
She and I were chattering because I was suspicious that I had also caught her up a lighthouse in one of my meddled photographs. ( A sentence I never expected to write)
‘I caught my friend up a lighthouse’
It is lovely when serendipity and concatination come together.
Then on my way home nature got all serendipitous. Look at this beautiful pansy making the most of a difficult location. Now just as I went to the Hoe and saw nothing yesterday,my pansy growing is not the most successful, slugs believe I am their artisan food producer. But leave a pansy out of my direct control and they manage very nicely just growing away in a drain.
Concatination equally so.
What was the last live performance you saw?
Here is a conundrum. I did not see the last live performance that I experienced but I did hear it. I went to Plymouth Hoe, this morning, for the V E Day 80 Civic service and arrived too late to see anything apart from service personnel’s bottoms.
Or the back of the Mayoral Party.
But I did hear some marvelous music and listened to the Churchill V E Day speech in full for the first time. All in all a most exceptional and interesting dog walk .
Even more thrilling, one of the people at the top of the Lighthouse is my friend Jenny. She is the smaller human of the three.
Here is the blog I didn’t feel I could write . It wasn’t quite my story to tell. Early in September two old school friends went to a football match. Nothing unusual about that,except 50 years has passed since we were at school in Essex, and now we live on opposite sides of the world. When I moved to Plymouth 35 years ago, I visited the local museum and noticed a Plymouth Argyle player in a 1928 team line-up with the same name as my school friend. The two men also looked similar Our letters, emails and nattering has taken all that time to come to the point when we were both at the same Plymouth Argyle match. It turned out to be quite the day out. The sun shone, we were treated like V.I.P’s and the team won a spectacular match.
@theoldmortuary guest writer Dai Pullen will take over from here.
My grandfather Jack Pullen played for Argyle a hundred years ago. To some, that might seem like nothing more than ancient history. but for the club, it is a history about which it is both very proud and respectful. I got to experience this first-hand recently when I was invited to visit the Home Park while I was staying in Plymouth on holiday from Melbourne Australia. My visit was hosted by Paul Hart (Forever Green Ambassador), Bob Wright (Greens on Screen official photographer), and Matt Ellacot (curator of the Plymouth Argyle Heritage Archive). It is impossible to imagine any club in the land having a nicer, more enthusiastic and dedicated set of representatives totally committed to collecting, preserving and archiving material which illustrates, the club’s long and distinguished history. They also want to acknowledge and celebrate players who have represented the club throughout its history, by creating a community of former Pilgrims who will continue to be welcomed to and be included as part of the club long after their playing days are over. To quote Paul Hart, “We want to make sure that everyone who has worn the green and white will have access to care, training and support should they need it.”
It is this level of genuine commitment and inclusion which helps set Argyle above and apart from the rest of the pack. My day at the club was absolutely outstanding, I was treated to lunch in Thatcher’s Sports Bar where I was seated with a group of true club legends, Duncan Neale Martin Phillips, Steve Davey and Marc Edworthy. I’m not sure what they put in the water down in Devon, but a nicer, more charming collection of lunch guests would be hard to find. But wait, there was more. Paul escorted me down to the pitch where he presented me with a Forever Green collection of items celebrating my grandfather’s Argyle career and in return I donated a number of precious items of memorabilia to the care of the Plymouth Argyle Heritage Archive. This included the champions medal he won as a member of the team which finally won promotion to the second division in 1930. There was also the shirt he wore when selected to represent Wales in an international against England in 1926, along with the Welsh cap he was awarded for this appearance. These items had been in my possession since I was a boy, and it had been a difficult move to offer to donate them to the club. Having met those charged with managing the Argyle Heritage and its artefacts, however, I was left in no doubt that I’d made the right decision. This is an organisation which honours and respects its past, while simultaneously looking ahead to an even more glorious future.
Even then my day, wasn’t quite over, there was a home game against Sunderland to be played. There were a few things about present day Plymouth which my grandfather would not have recognised. The refurbished stadium, for example., and the bowling green-like pitch. The giant video screen would have blown his mind. The one thing, though, that would have been instantly recognisable was the roar and full-hearted support of the home crowd. What an atmosphere there was in the stadium that afternoon. And when Joe Edwards, scored the winner, in the final minute I swear I felt the spirit of old Jack right there with me in the stand. What an experience, what a club.
Best day at the football, ever!
Giddy with excitement, I then paid a call to the club shop and spent a fortune on merch. But never mind. I was feeling Gert Lush. And impatient to do it all again. A huge thanks to everyone who made my visit to Home Park so memorable. Forever Green? really how could I not be.
Jack and Dai discuss tactics.
It is Plymouth Art Weekender this weekend. Always a fascinating festival of all things art. Missing on our cultural horizons for 4 years.
More of that later in the week but an early installation in one of my local shopping areas had me on the back foot a couple of weeks ago.
A moment when travel broadening the mind has done too good a job.
I have travelled in remote parts of the U.S where a rural supermarket is the social hub for thousands of square miles . Wedding invitations posted by the checkout, open to all who bring a plate of food. Obituaries of regulars stuck on notice boards and with shades of the old Wild West, mugshots of shoplifters or other undesirables.
So it was with some surprise I saw a couple of pictures of people inside the window of my local Co-op.
That’s unusual for here, I thought, while also thinking that the photo of one of the miscreants was quite arty, handsome and maybe familiar. It was very early in the morning.
The gymnastics my mind did in those moments thinking a friend’s Dad had been a bad man. The thought was unimaginable. Then I hoped nothing bad had happened to him. More travel awareness. Obituaries on lampposts and telegraph poles in Greece.
Art was not on my mind at 7 am, not much was. But it woke me up and made me think. Always a sign of good art in my opinion.
To view the project follow the link.
Photographic Census
To view the Plymouth Art Weekender follow link below.
Yesterday our morning dog walk was in the city centre. The plan to be there early was thwarted by Olympic scheduling. We were obliged to make a slow start to the day to watch a local diver, Tom Daley, take part in his fifth Olympic games. He is only 30. While he toiled in Paris on a 10 metre diving board we made a leisurely start to the day with an extra coffee.
He won silver and all was well. In consequence it was very hot by the time we got to the cities over-heated concrete heart. ( Pride and the weather) The dogs and I clung to the sharp, cool shadows created by tall buildings. Following the shadows took me to the local market. An area of independent small businesses and the most multicultural and diverse area of Devon and Cornwall. Every time I go there I think I should go more often. Yesterday I found a favourite relocated junk/house clearance shop which made me very happy. It was closed Monday and Tuesday which protected me from myself. But the windows are always a joy. The paraphernalia of other peoples lives is so much more interesting than a carefully created Interiors shop. I discovered a new to me artist. Someones collection of framed images dumped in a corner. Of course I googled Gil, in the U.S these prints are collectibles.
There were 4 framed prints of his work in the window. It is hard to imagine a home where these would have been the acceptable focal points of a sitting room in 2024.
Much more contemporary was some nearby graffiti. 3 of 9 multicoloured Lighthouses stencilled on a wall.
In some ways the two sorts of art depict the changing face of Plymouth in the 30 years of Tom Daley’s life.
Cheesy Pin-up imagery in a city where men were men, to rainbow coloured Lighthouses.
Just like the junk shop. Plymouth is a bit more open, closed some days for certain, but more open than it used to be.
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.
Psychogeography and Pirates. Monday found us mingling with Pirates at a childrens book day and wandering with other peoples memories in a park. The success of a book day/ meet the author event is easily measured in our house. We have our own, newly designed Pirate Flag in the kitchen and as a family we are encouraged to greet one another with a single word salutation delivered in the gruffest of voices.
” Hearties”
We spent the morning with Childrens Author Claire Helen Walsh. The location, next to the sea at Stonehouse Lawn Tennis Club was the perfect setting for her two chosen books that took Piracy to new levels of surreal.
We played tennis with biscuits to test their relative aerodynamic qualities and then built a rocket.
Planks were walked and survival was rewarded with eye glasses and dubloons. Unicorns, dragons and aliens arrived and our glorious sequined, pink Jolly Roger Flag was designed and created and now hangs in the kitchen.
Later in the day we went to Devonport Park where the adventures of the mind continued in an adventure playground full of cargo nets and timber. The timber, of course, would have previously been ‘Shivered’
Devonport Park is hugely popular but has only recently become a regular location for us. But historically Hannahs grandparents met there, the park was known as a place for chance encounters of the old fashioned sort. For Hannah it was always a family favourite location. The many memorial plaques found in the flower beds record the many other people whose lives and loves were touched by the peace and tranquility of the park. I suspect the cargo nets and timbers will call us back more often now.
Surely the sign of a good book event, we are still living in the imaginative world of Surreal Pirates who briefly took over a tennis club.
An early morning gem on a rainy day.
The day turned out to have two longer than planned walks and one of the scheduled activities fell off the days achievement list. This lovely feather greeted me after I had had a hair cut. Despite the drizzle we walked a local circuit and were rewarded with the beautiful scent of woodsmoke held close to the ground by morning mist.
Then after the second primping session of the day, a manicure,there were no busses to take me back into the City so I walked in and found some locally themed Street Art.
I had planned to meet some family members in The Box Gallery and Museum but the closest I got was to see The Box depicted in the Street Art.
I missed all the fun of the gallery.
But we met up just in time to explore Sainsbury with all the excitement of a four year old. Not a moment of the day wasted.
A slow Sunday was had yesterday with no massive plans beyond getting all the tree sap washed off our campervan and righting a blogging wrong of the last month.
#624 theoldmortuary ponders
On the 28th May we accidentally went to a Cafe that a friend had wanted to visit with us. A link to that day’s blog is above. He was not impressed that we had gone without him, we corrected that error on Sunday.
The coffee and the food is wonderful.
Motorbikes that are displayed on the carpet are still intriguing. And Kevin, who was on a legitimate break from work, with his work phone casually dropped on the floor, was ready to talk for England.
Despite excellent company ( 3 women) he was fueled up and ready to natter, so we were forgiven for our earlier visit without him
The rest of our day passed with dog walks and Newspaper reading.There is a new mural being painted on a local pub.
And a neighbour is struggling to make a colour choice for their render.
Peonies bloomed under slightly cloudy skies.
And somewhat amazingly our first ice cream of the summer was eaten.
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