#1264 theoldmortuary ponders

Not exactly an Easter Egg but as close as we got. Fueled by this Bagel we tackled big jobs in the Yard. Both had the potential to be grim jobs but neither were too bad either.

But first a recipe for Easter.

Not for the squeamish. But the results are just like regular compost.

We use two rhubarb forcing pots to recycle coffee grounds, teabags and dog poos that are done in the yard. If such a thing can be described as a recipe then the recipe has served us well for the eleven years we have had Hugo and nine years of Lola. The method worked on the clay soils of South London, the excellent soil of an old mortuary in Cornwall and now on slightly raised beds in a city yard. The pots never smell and we use the compost for flowers and shrubs.

The process couldn’t be simpler and the compost is excellent.

Ingredients

Coffee Grounds

Tea bags

Egg Shells

Dog poo picked up with bamboo fibre toilet paper.

A handful of juicy worms from a friend’s compost heap.

Method

Place rhubarb forcer on soil ( Lid optional)

Randomly layer the ingredients as available. Worms just once.

Empty from below in the Spring wearing gloves and with a hand fork.

Pick through the compost to remove stuff that has not been turned into compost. The biggest culprit seems to be tea bag fabric  occasionally and friends who pick up their dogs poos with non compostable plastic bags.

I estimate that good compost is created in about a year with a three year cycle. Our pots seem to operate at about 2/3 full. We have two. When one is full to the brim we put the lid on and move to the other. The level drops surprisingly quickly.

In the Spring I harvest about 2/3 of each pot of compost from below and leave the top third to drop to the bottom when I stand the forcer back up. I always return a lot of worms to the top after I have done this.

We have moved house 3 times in 11 years there has never been a problem just bagging up and disposing of the small amounts of uncomposted matter at the top of the forcers.

Goodness knows why I felt the need to share this recipe. Except that we watched an Easter Special cookery programme that featured a ‘ What to do with left over Easter eggs’

Not in this house.

No programme ever features ‘ What to do with your left over dog shit’

@theoldmortuary USP perhaps.

The second job of the day was more tricksy, replacing a large plastic barrel home made ( not by us) water butt with an actual water butt provided by our water provider. First the full water butt had to be emptied and the water stored. Then there was butt wrestling to get the old one out and the new one in. And then refilling and landscaping of the new edition. All achieved before we went to a friends house for some Easter nattering.

It’s funny isn’t it, the conversations you have just as you leave these things that would have been so much more valuable at the beginning of the evening.  We discovered the couple who left at the same time as us lived 1/2 a mile from us in Crystal Palace 8 years ago. Both relocating to the same patch of coast nearly 300 miles away. The funny thing is just a slight fleeting familiarity not associated with our current location. Conversations for another day…

So much achieved on one Bagel.

#1244 theoldmortuary ponders.

In praise of red. @theoldmortuary is part of a team running an Art exhibition at Ocean Studios in The Royal William Yard, Plymouth.

Blogs for the next few days will take a peek at the artworks on offer following a colour theme.

First up a blood red, bullet shaped, paperweight from Yvonne Morrissey.

And what better to follow a bullet than a knife.

Strawberry with Knife ©Richard Barry

Followed by 20 shades, including red.

©Mary Toon

Geoff Dodd’s painting, Sunrise at Belliver shows both the glory and the challenges of hanging art in this beautiful,renovated, military warehouse.

Grade II listing makes gallery wires essential. The proportions and light of the spaces combine to create a unique gallery-visiting experience.

©Geoff Dodd

Next, the word red in Christine Smith’s mixed media work.

©Christine Smith

From one bird to another. A Pheasant, resplendently red.

©Kathy George

Not a brace of birds but a trio. Carole Cox created a splendid Electric Blue Cockerel who, as luck would have it has a splendid red wattle.

© Carole Cox

And finally, another Geoff Dodd image hanging with an @theoldmortuary original. Daffodils and Moonflowers.

#1179 theoldmortuary ponders.

The silky morning of yesterday’s blog bloomed into an entirely gorgeous day.

#1178 theoldmortuary ponders.

We resolved to max out on the apracity of the day and took ourselves to Rame Head for an afternoon of walking and book reading.

Our destination gives me the chance to share a tiny nugget of Cinema trivia. From the film Jaws.

Captain Quint. Jaws 1975

Rame Head is mentioned as one of the first points sailors can name as they sail close to the English shore.

Jaws meets @theoldmortuary on a sunny day.

The road home was not too shabby either.

Apracity to the Max.

#1115 theoldmortuary ponders.

The mountains of Arcadia

Beach or mountains? Which do you prefer? Why?

I am firmly a both kind of person in the visual sense, the two combined are very special. I am a gazer at Mountains, I have no need and not the right knees for  ‘ conquering’ mountains. Unless they are fairly small versions.

I was in Arcadia, a mountainous region of Greece, recently. A wonderful place to walk and enjoy mountain air and village life. Only days before I was on an unspoilt beach on Spetses Island.

Spetses

Both locations got a full 100% satisfaction grading from me. Both offered huge fresh figs and good coffee. No need to choose one over the other. Both are fabulous especially if figs and coffee are involved.

Figs @theoldmortuary

P.S. Jane, I include more art in my blogs for you xx, but my figgin’ photos are OK too.
Figs in Cornwall @theoldmortuary

#1087 theoldmortuary ponders.

Dai Pullen Juliet Cornell

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.

#999 theoldmortuary ponders.

#999 What’s the Fuschia?(Future) Big day tomorrow  @theoldmortuary 1000 days of the latest iteration of my daily bloggings. A wise woman would not predict the future, she might just lay in a wooded glade and be grateful for the present

In the recent past there have been many wet days.

But now the sun is out and surface water  is not all green and murky.

Time for swimming spots and local beaches . And resting in the shade being grateful for the now.

#978 theoldmortuary ponders

I have crisscrossed the Tamar River using these bridges every day this week and sailed underneath them on a ferry yesterday. The river and the sea dominate every journey at the southern end of the Tamar Valley. The first rail bridge was built by Isambard Kingdom Brunel between 1854-59. A road bridge was built in 1961.

Before that a variety of ferries powered, intially, by rowers and ropes crossed the river at this point for 800 years.

It was rowers that made us visit again yesterday.

A Regatta with Gig Rowing is always a feast for the eyes. We are ‘resting’ Gig rowers @theoldmortuary.

While the events of a Regatta occur on the water. There is plenty of other action on the Cornish bank.

Regalia and speeches.
Drumming
Bouncy castles
Stalls selling stuff

And because this is England, Morris Dancers.

Oh the whimsy that is Morris Dancers.

Inexplicable. The link below might help.

https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2023/mar/03/morris-is-a-creature-of-its-own-a-dance-for-a-new-age-photo-essay

Even our ferry journey home had a curious whizz through history. The banks of the Tamar are edged by small surviving examples of the Atlantic Rain Forest, a habitat that is well beyond being under threat.

Atlantic Rain Forest

In the same small stretch of water we passed this paddle boarder.

A power boat and a Pirate Ship.

And a Nuclear Submarine.

And just like riverside dwellers for centuries have done. We waved to a friend as we left.

Luckily she was wearing orange and white. Which was my theme for making a Morris Dancing/ Tamar Bridges/ Pop Art image later in the day. I was aiming for a Punk anarchy energy.

#949 theoldmortuary ponders

@theoldmortuary are off on holiday. Despite home looking an awful lot like our chosen destination, Greece.

The dogs are also off on their holidays where the hollyhocks are signalling the need for a change of Government very soon.

Our Greek-style yard has settled into new pots and new locations.  Despite a much colder than normal June things are starting to bloom. The Agapanthus that we grew from seed are going to bloom very soon.

Its 5 years since we were last in Greece and the last time we were in Skiathos or Skopelos the first Mama Mia film was being shot. Two weeks of  bumping into  Abba and famous actors, and inadvertently appearing as extras on a shot that took a whole day to film but ultimately ended up on the cutting room floor. We even bought the DVD that included the out-takes and we didn’t even feature on that. Oh the ignominy!

#923 theoldmortuary ponders.

Thursday already. It has been a busy week @theoldmortuary. Two days of a man with power tools building a trellis wall extension for us and prepping for an exhibition.

Bags lined up ready to go.

Hugo has been doing a lot of soulful eye work as there has not often been time for a lap to sit on. Also not much time to ponder on ponders and ponderables.

One thing that came and was largely unremarked upon, was the curious 12 hours on Saturday and Sunday when we were suddenly without a signal or any wi-fi. We were camping near Looe and communication was lost locally, nobody could use their phones. There was no problem at all for us, but it is odd how guilty I felt at being inexplicably unreachable without warning.

Something entirely normal only a few years ago.

Clearing and sorting 4 years worth of emails, over the last few days, has also highlighted how much communication we all have with one another now, compared to even our recent past. A nicely sorted and deleted email account is curiously liberating. Spring cleaning of my electronic soul.

A midweek pondering at midnight that has become all about communicating both ancient and modern. Dogs have looked at humans, in the same way that Hugo is looking at me in the first picture, throughout history. Stone Age humans and their dogs, and every other age since would understand what was going on in that picture. 

Just as everyone reading this blog understands the joy that the last picture brings me.

But the doleful dog eyes will go on as long as there are humans and dogs. Emails will, soon enough,be consigned to history. Just as parchment scrolls and quills have been. That is quite the ponder.

#921 theoldmortuary ponders

A milky sunset after a giddy day in new glasses.  As a lifelong glasses wearer, I am used to the day when trusted old glasses are replaced by a new prescription and new frames. I never quite trust that I have made a good decision on the frames until they have been on my face for a few hours. Yesterday there was the added jeopardy of me deciding to change the ratio of my varifocal lenses and a much bigger prescription change than I have had for a long time. I was very happy with all things spectacle until my crisply restored vision alighted on these new beauties.

Ray Ban Smart Sunglasses

Smart glasses!  Glasses that can be like a smart phone, taking photos and making calls!!!

Oh My Goodness. @theoldmortuary becomes a 21st Century blogger. Photos and a dictated blog with just a subtle nod of the head and some talking out loud to myself.

Madness x Awe.

Meanwhile a traditionally gathered milky sunset ends a giddy day of adjusting to new lenses and the thoughts of Smart Sunglasses. Maybe next time.