#1370 theoldmortuary ponders

What do you wish you could do more every day?

I like being a busy woman but I am a great procrastinator. I choose to be busy to keep procratinarion at bay.  At least I always thought I was a procrastinator until I looked the word up for this blog.

Absolutely none of the given reasons are the causes of what I consider my procrastination habit.

I delay tasks because experience has taught me that doing a task too early or at an inopportune time often results in a re-do  or a less good result.

Procrastination suited me because it is just one word. Now I am left with a great word salad. Thinking, Planning, inspiration, mulling. Timeliness

I prefer to do things/stuff when all my ducks are in a row.

Many ducks, many rows.

Sometimes all my deliberate delaying tactics are waiting for just a few things. Sponteneity, Serendipity and inspiration.

Picking the word procrastination apart I realise that I necessarily delay or postpone  some tasks because I know that doing something too soon can result in a less good outcome.

I love ticking off lists of things achieved but feel really disappointed in myself if I do something sub- optimally because it was rushed or completed just for the sake of  a tick on a life list.

So what do I wish I could do more every day?

Just a little more thinking and a little less doing.  It is a discipline thing because I have more time than I ever have ever had. But thinking time is undervalued as an achievement.

What will I be doing now I know that I am not a procrastinator but something else entirely that currently has no name. And if it has no name how can I possibly do it?

#1368 theoldmortuary ponders

Sunshine has arrived in Stonehouse and has decided to stick around. Sunshine dog walks without a coat two days running. We don’t know ourselves. Lots of social interaction.

Social interaction of a different sort also springs to mind. My new car responds to me talking to her. Unlike Alexa, in our house, the car likes good manners. A simple Yes or no is not enough. Please and thank you are required.  Alexa takes a dim view of good manners . She is puzzled and confused when I am polite rather than assertive. I prefer interacting with the car.

Inexplicably two days of sunshine have made me very busy indoors.

I need to get my priorities reset.

#1366 theoldmortuary ponders.

The weather took a very dim view of our Mothers Day Outing to the beach yesterday. As usual what cannot be seen is the biting wind. The project which kept us busy and warm was collecting  sea shells and sea glass to make a beach themed condolence card. A niche project for sure but one that was very effective at passing an hour in fairly dreadful weather.

With a stroke of luck I found a perfect illustration of Mothers Day in seaweed.

A mother seaweed with a small baby seaweed. Currently entwined and destined to travel the tides together . The pebble they were both attached to has been split by being thrown onto the beach with force during the rough weather.

At some point they may be torn apart by another storm or they may float closely together forever. Just like mothers and their children. Who knew seaweed could bring such emotional depth.

And Emotional Depth is exactly what the ‘romantic’ filter brings to some photographs.

#1364 theoldmortuary ponders.

Yesterdays blog was written using an old stored prompt, because we were having a busy day doing really dull jobs on industrial estates. So I just needed a little help getting motivated.

Link to yesterday’s blog below.

#1363 theoldmortuary ponders.

More about yesterday’s blog later. Because the Industrial Estate jobs were not without their moments.

We have been having a rocky patch car and campervan wise. Both have required a lot of attention recently hence the all too familiar trips to Industrial Estates.

Yesterday’s industrial Estate trip took us to the inner edges of Dartmoor, where traffic problems almost immediately take on a different meaning.

Somnolent sheep and prancing ponies are the biggest hold-ups to hitting a mechanic’s deadlines.

Even when they clearly have deadlines of their own.

We all know the feeling on a Friday afternoon when the last client/patient/customer does not arrive on time.

3pm said the man with a workshop on the edges of Dartmoor. We made it, but not without the anxiety of waiting for the sheep to shift, on their own somewhat slower schedule.

So that was why a slow day blog needed a bit of a prompt.

Anyway the daft idea that anyone could create a small list of things that were essential to life, must have irritated my sleep because I had a vivid dream of absolute panic that I had not included Christmas Cake and Mince Pies on my list.

Why on earth would my sleeping head think these two items would need to go on a list of just three things?

Having had a disturbed night of sleep, I can confidently say that the list of 3 would be unaltered.

Daffodils

Books

The Sea

However were I to compile the list of 300, I would certainly include Christmas Cake and Mince Pies.

P.s I used to commute diagonally across the whole of Dartmoor for work. The traffic jams were unimaginable…

Sometimes I was late.

#1363 theoldmortuary ponders.

What are three objects you couldn’t live without?

This prompt has had me stumped for a few days. The obvious answer is Nourishment, Shelter and Oxygen. None of which are likely to abandon me anytime soon. Because I am fortunate.

So to rewrite the question . What are the three objects I would rather not live without.

In the scrag end of winter, where we are now, I always like Daffodils in the house. If I could only have one variety of cut flowers throughout the year it would be Daffodils, heralds of Spring. Evidence that there is life after Winter.

Books, my life would be a much less vivid experience if I had to give up books.

The sea, it just makes everything in life, good or bad, take a step back.

Looking at these three frivolous choices is a privilege that comes because I am Nourished, I do have shelter and as long as I choose to breathe Oxygen will be available. 

I could live in a shepherds hut on a Cornish cliff and read books for days on end in February. My 3 essentials easily to hand but then there would be more lists of 3.

  • My car.
  • A Waitrose delivery every two days
  • Jolly coast path walkers to chat to. Unless the coast path walker was Raynor Winn. Her books are also excluded from any lists. Unless of course I had a solid fuel heater in my Shepherds Hut and Waitrose failed to deliver  any charcoal. Her books could be rolled and burned as paper logs.

Then there would be another list of 3

Radio to listen to the Shipping Forecast

Raincoat for walking on the Daffodil strewn cliff edge.

Chocolate for the pocket of the raincoat.

This list malarky just goes on and on . Better just to stop with the Oxygen, Shelter and nourishment because after that I just get shallow and vengeful and eat chocolate. Alrhough it could be argued that chocolate is nourishment.

Honestly just a daft bloody question

I think 300 would be a better number. Does wanting more make me shallower or does it show hidden depths?

#1361 tholdmortuary ponders.

Are you superstitious?

I don’t believe I am in the traditional sense. But just to be on the safe side I Googled ‘Superstitious’. Which of course suggests that I might be.

I like to stick to plans and behaviours that I know work in certain scenarios.

But contrarily I absolutely encourage and rely on happenstance and serendipity to often take me in the right direction.

I would say my next two weeks will be fairly Admin and paperwork* heavy as an organisation that I do some work for heads towards an  AGM.

*

  • Why do we even call it paperwork when for the most part no paper is involved in 2026.
  • Today I will be delving into actual paper files, how very retro is that.

Meetings,Exams,Presentations all require more or less the same procedure. Ongoing work, preparation, planning and voila! The Culmination. Whatever it is.

I always throw in something extra, without it the whole process becomes way too droll. Yesterday I threw in a visit to an art exhibition and today a little bit of gardening. Without my ‘something extras’ I always believe the more serious stuff of life is more likely to fail.  So in that one paragraph I have demonstrated that I am indeed superstitious.

Not based on fear, ignorance or a reliance on luck, black magic or faith. Based on experience.

For this blog the ‘ something extras’ are often the joyful nugget or maybe the happy ending.

This blog gets both.

The joyful nugget of the paperwork was writing a report to our local council, sharing all the good works and events that our little club has done for the benefit and wellness of our local community.

The happy ending was a visit to an exhibition of Tapestry. Honestly I know nothing about weaving and tapestry. I set myself a target of three images to enjoy and natter about.

Dhoon Bay Wrack by Jane Riley

I love this, I cannot imagine the hours  of work that have gone into this. Hanging on this gorgeous brick wall just adds to the impact. Which leads me on to the next two images.

Shai Quila ( Royal Fort) by Ayesha Barlas

The heat was palpable and vivid from this beautiful tapestry.  Like finding a warm fire in a cold castle.

Then image three caught my eye, an actual fireplace almost camouflaged in a wall that was almost like a tapestry itself.

And so with my admin head reset I will traverse a paper mountain of cardboard files, actual paper and ‘Old School’ archiving. Will I be charmed or frustrated. To be continued.

Today I visited ,

Source: British Tapestry Group https://share.google/X8AvMkgY0rxw60PDC

Here are their set up pictures from their Instagram account.

https://www.instagram.com/britishtapestrygroup?igsh=c3ZuZHlxd2pzZGxt

Below a link to a video of the show.

#1359 theoldmortuary ponders.

Book club yesterday with a review of a book that didn’t get much praise from our assembled readers. I will not mention the author or the novel. Others may love it. As is often the case, the less we enjoy a book the more far ranging are the conversations about it. The day after a bookclub meeting I allow myself some free choice reading. The book at the top of my pile should have been read in late December on my flight from Hong Kong to London. I started reading but fairly early on we hit turbulance . It occurred just after supper was served and was so disruptive the cabin crew could not move to clear up the supper trays and drinks. No book reading for a couple of hours as all passengers had to keep their hands on the supper trays and their minds on not needing a wee.

So here I am nearly three months later starting my gifted holiday read again.

Being a holiday read it has fascinating book marks. Airline tickets from Hong Kong and a beer mat from Bermagui Beach Hotel.

Our stay at the Bermagui Beach Hotel was every woman who enjoys an Australian Drama’s Dream. And I love  Australian Dramas.

Our stay at Bermagui had a tiny drama of its own when I had a naked encounter with a Sting Ray.

First name to spring to mind was Steve Irwin, an Australian Naturalist who lost his life to a Sting Ray. Once the danger was past I may have given some thought to calling out the fictitious G.P. Dr Blake, famed for his small town, Ballarat, Mysteries.

I think I could have languished quite happily in a genuine turn of the century hotel  while he puzzled over an English Naturist in almost a copy cat event. Although had I had any sort of life threatening injury the 9 hour journey he would need to drive would have probably killed me.

Of course all I was actually suffering from was an over active imagination in the most idyllic spot.

Books have a habit of encouraging an over active imagination. Bookmarks less so, but today I am reading about the Dreaming Spires of Oxford while pondering the absolute delight that was a small town hotel in New South Wales.  Oh if only those walls could have talked.

Far better to read a book on an Australian Hotel balcony dreaming of the past, but better to read anywhere than not to read at all 

#1357 theoldmortuary ponders

Bee Beautiful on International Womens Day.

A beautiful Bumble Bee

A morning of gardening and nattering was paused whilst an exhausted Bumble Bee took refreshment at the Tennis Club.

Sugar in a spoon with her own Intensive care team checking progress.

I still love the Romantic filter

The foreground of this early morning image is exactly where she landed, possibly exhausted from her inaugural flight. I couldn’t resist giving her the Romantic filter effect.

Because, although this may be an indelicate subject, I checked out this ladies bottom. It was buff. Making her a Queen Bee. So a whole colony of bees has been saved by the Saturday Gardeners of the Tennis Club.

#1353 theoldmortuary ponders.

I have not seen sunshine like this on home turf for 3 months. And this is day 2! Yesterday was a day of out and about chores on all four corners of the city. All chores were achieved but the downside of that was only seeing sunshine from the inside of a car until it was time for it to set behind some trees on the edge of Dartmoor.

This morning Lola and I set off on an unspecified walk which was embellished by meeting loads of people out doing the same thing. Walking and talking in the sunshine was so much better than getting chores done in the sunshine.

But with the chores done yesterday there was no guilt in elongating my morning walk to take in the sights of Stonehouse.

Still looking Chilly at Tranquility Bay

A day with sunshine is a wonderful thing.

Still looking chilly at the pool.

#1351 theoldmortuary ponders.

Life as we might wish.

What experiences in life helped you grow the most?

I would swap out the word helped with forced.

Early on in my journey as the parent of two young children both of my parents died.

There is a saying that no-one cares for a new mother who does not have her own mother. So true. X 2 without a father too.

There was minimal support from other relatives. I survived and ultimately thrived with the support of friends and strangers, some of whom became friends.

So many tough life experiences to encounter in a six year period.

Survival and the drive to be a good enough parent pushed, pulled and cajoled me though. Eventually when the mists of grief and responsibility cleared enough to take stock I realised that I had learned to live life as it was, and not how I wished or imagined it should be.

A valuable lesson I would rather not have been forced to learn. But one that is useful even when life feels awkward or uncomfortable.

Thank goodness I am not a virtuous type. I do grumpy, sad and disappointed with what life delivers at times. But adversity early on has given me all the tools to give myself a good talking to and a good kick up the bum when needed.

And here is the ponder, how on earth does anyone give themselves a kick up the backside. Physically impossible I would say.

Life as it is.