A daily blog is a funny old thing. Sometimes I have a little stash of thing to write about and other times , for no particular reason, there is a bit of an empty cupboard. Today the cupboard is not exactly empty but the ideas on the shelves are not thrilling me. However there is a serendipitous bit of wordplay to share. Very strange atmospheric conditions this morning meant that barely perceptible mist landed on everything making diamond- like droplets on things and humans. The safety bar near our swimming zone twinkled in the weak sunlight. Not quite so attractively an old WW2 building, close by has been unimaginatively embellished with Graffiti. The whole thing being brought together with a witty sentence.
Giving me the chance to natter on about two sorts of bar. Exactly the sort of thing to keep blogging alive on a misty morning.
Yesterday was a dull thing. So I’ve borrowed some images from last year to jazz up todays blog. Over the weekend I was talking to some friends who have had a protracted house move. Protracted because they inherited a partial share of a house many years ago and were unsure quite what to do with the property. Some years down the line they have bought it completely and are moving this week. Like us they have also lived the South London/ West Country life for many years, until Covid changed everyones way of living.
The topic of our conversation was too many bathroom products. Both cleaning and beautifying.
Our recent move followed several years of changing circumstances all of which seemed to increase our collection of half used bathroom products.
Our actual move and settling into the current house went well and we were tidy in record time. Except the cupboard of shame! A floor to ceiling cupboard that held products that had been inherited and duplicated many times in various changes of life circumstances.
Talking about it made me realise that it was never going to sort itself out.
There was nothing pretty or exciting about a day spent checking pots and bottles. Amalgamating window cleaners and liquid soap. Cleaning hair brushes and make up/ travel bags.
The task, though, has been achieved. Last night the talk was all about what to do with an empty cupboard!
February 1st , time to turn a page or, in the case of 2022, three pages. This year we have 3 physical calendars. The sort with a picture and the month divided into days for notes and appointments. The dog calendar features this splendid chap who has witnessed all that goes on in our utility room for the last month. From the gradual lowering of food stocks post the festive season to the drama of a new shelf flying off the wall and scattering the contents of this tin all over the floor.
6 years out of date, Steel Cut Oat Meal goes an awful long way in a utility room. The gorgeous ginger dog on my January page almost certainly heard some choice words. Being turned over may be a welcome break for him.
My Indspire Calendar from Canada features the work of Indigenous , First Nation , art students and the funds raised provide Inuit and Métis students with burseries and scholarships.
This Calendar lives in the studio/work room and really has not seen much creative action this January. Certainly some domestic sewing and the beginning of another Womble this time one with links to Hong Kong. Which allows me to show you a small remnant of lovely blue carp fabric, and at the same time wish you a happy lunar New Year.
Kung Hei Fat Choi
The last Calendar picture I turned over today is much closer to home, an old home, and comes from the Braintree Museum Calendar.
The Braintree Museum is coinciden tally housed in my old Primary School. So this calendar is almost certainly going to provoke some memories. The January picture of a steam train at the towns railway station very clearly shows the method of transport so many of us used to leave a small market town to explore the world. The train I escaped on was diesel and it took me to London. I wonder where the February pictures will take my ponderings?
We were out early this morning and did some walking in Topsham near Exeter. It has been quite a long while since we were last here. That, I suppose is the point of todays blog. The shapeshifting of time, now we are nearly entering our third year of global pandemic restrictions. With continued alterations to our normal ways of being.
I was surprised yesterday to realise that this old image from a previous exhibition was only 3 years ago. I would have guessed it was more like 4 or 5 years. Then the reverse can be true and I can think I’ve seen someone very recently and they tell me it was two years ago. So my internal time calibration is completely useless at the moment. So who can possibly guess when I was last in Topsham enjoying an early morning Goat Walk.
These precautionary warnings on a pub wall may have a practical purpose but for a return to normal life the same cautions might be advisable.
I find I can no longer with confidence say what happened in any specific lockdown or time period over the last two years. I am an unreliable witness, a poor historian and in truth if anything requires reminiscent recall for the years 2020 and 2021 there is a good chance of inaccuracy. I may make stuff up.
Not exactly another blog about bobbing but possibly a blog about plans, chance and expensive serendipity. Everything came together for this blog. The tide was perfect for bobbing at midday. The sun was scheduled to come out between 12 noon and 1pm and Spearmint the seal was hauled up a mile away . There is reason this picture is a little bit unusual, and the reason I have allowed myself to bore you all with another blog about bobbing. You might notice that there are gentle undulating waves for two of the bobbers to swim on. This is far from normal in our little bay. Friday was serendipitously not a normal day nautically. Out to sea, beyond our field of view there were many Nato warships taking part in an exercise. In the hour or so that we were bobbing or drying off, there were many tugs going in and out of the dockyard to help the larger ships navigate the complexities of Plymouth Sound. Almost certainly a very expensive way to provide us with gentle rolling waves for the duration of our bob. Serendipity at its serendipitous best.
In the creamy early morning light of St Ives it would be easy to miss the stone balancing on Lambeth Walk Beach.
Just like tourists there are less of them in January and they are not so tall or flamboyant. In this instance less is definitely more. These modest but skillfully created piles gently look out to sea, barely changing the appearance of the beach, they contemplatively slow everything down just that little bit. Encouraging the viewer to be still longer and breath deeper.
Morning has broken in St Ives with the gorgeous colour of Cadbury Chocolate wrappers.
In truth not the most thrilling of sunrises but the clear sky was a sign that the day was going to be a bit of a colour sensation. Early morning duties were the pleasure of sharing the start of our day with Miss VV, our granddaughter in Hong Kong. Our early morning adventures with her via video call involved stories involving sand horses and naughty seagulls. For the rest of our day we had strict instructions on the photographs that needed to be taken to be sent to her for when she wakes up. Seagulls were top of her list.
This one is a bit of a visual joke as he had managed to poo on the reflection of his own head.
Another request was dogs on their holidays.
Miss VV did not request a piece of Barbara Hepworth sculpture but we took our own initiative and took one anyway.
Gifted in 1965 to the town she had adopted as her home.
We did a three hour coastal path walk and found some small and deeply personal sculptures. Love locks attached to a small metal fence on the sea side of the path. Stuck together and corroded by the salt spray of the Atlantic.
The thing we didn’t manage to capture was a dolphin feeding frenzy which we witnessed but luckily for the blog a more proficient photographer was about earlier in the week.
We are off on a little adventure today. Not words that have been used very often over the last two years. The weather has been checked and a booking made but beyond that nothing has been done in preparation, because the adventure is a surprise for everyone else @theoldmortuary. Which makes this a very brief blog.
Thankfully a friends new Podcast was released yesterday which gives me something to share with you.
Blogging was a lot like these little boats today. Left behind by the tide of my own technical inadequacies. I had failed to charge my laptop and then plugged it in to a socket that wasn’t turned on. Zoom meetings had to be attended on my phone. Irritating as this was it was enlivened by WhatsApp messages from friends.
One friend was moving his hot tub to his new home. It looked like more fun than I was having.
However much I yearn for in- person meetings. It would be rude to get my phone out so this newly learned meeting brightener will be shortlived but I may now default to my phone for Zoom meeting’s just for the onscreen entertainment.
But the joy when I got out of my second Zoom meeting of the day was palpable. Maybe the dogs will prefer it when I no longer Zoom at home.
Blue Monday began by delivering stuff to a charity shop, accidentally as can so easily happen, something was also bought. This time a tiny pill box.
It is the exact same pattern as a powder compact I received as a bridesmaids gift when I was 12. It was a lovely jolt of recognition and nostalgia. Something that happens rarely in my life as I no longer have any living relatives who knew me as a child or teenager. Obviously a trip to deliver stuff to a charity shop is not a reason to buy more stuff but this little pot will be useful for travelling earrings. We had coffee and a croissant overlooking the symbolic Mayflower Steps and harvested more Vitamin D while taking in all the positive blueness of the day. The Bakery we bought the croissants from predates the sailing of the Mayflower by almost 100 years, that is a lot of years to perfect baking skills.
