#675 theoldmortuary ponders

What are you curious about?

This is the very best sort of reading to start the day with, curiosity in book form. Since leaving the committee of Drawn to the Valley last year, I have had very little to do with the nuts and bolts of organizing the current programme of events. For local readers there are two more days to visit the Summer Exhibition in Tavistock.

This book is a joy to read and shows exactly how far Drawn to the Valley has come from those dark years of the Covid and post-Covid complexities of running a fairly large arts organisation in a geographically widespread location.

After 5 years as a member of the organisation these pages are now filled with the work of artists that I have met and shared creative journeys with. Many of them are my friends and teachers.

The page below shows how successful one of my projects has become.

Creative Tables has spread over the length and breadth of the Tamar Valley. Started to bring artists back together after the isolation of the Covid Lock-down in Plymouth. Creative Tables now operates monthly meetings in several different locations.

This book also shows how one life feeds into another as some of the people in the exhibition photographs are also bobbers and one artist has painted gig rowing the only team sport I have ever loved.

I was never quite so glam in my rowing days. Another curiosity for me is which piece of art will tempt me at Open studios.  There are many walls in my house with work by Drawn to the Valley artists.

Curiosity is a superpower, it can take you to the most fabulous places even when sat in bed with a cup of tea and a fabulous brochure.

#674  theoldmortuary ponders

Write about a random act of kindness you’ve done for someone.

I find this to be rather a curious prompt for Jetpack to set. A random act of kindness, in my opinion, is an anonymous and unheralded event. I absolutely believe that kindness is a super power and that a little bit can go a long way. People who are inherently kind,are my kind of people, the other, opposite sort of people are best avoided or treated with caution. I also believe in kindness to myself, and that perhaps is the only random act of kindness I am prepared to go public about.

Toxic people with their own agendas are a sad fact of life. No amount of kindness can dent their self-belief or carapace of malevolence. Often they wear a cloak of charm or even generosity. The older I get the more I give myself the permission to mitigate their behaviour by simply disengaging. This is one of the absolute bonuses of being a self-employed artist rather than a salaried person in a big organization.

As a kindness to myself avoidance becomes a positive.

#673 theoldmortuary ponders.

Here I am on my regular, dog grooming day, spot. Wembley Beach on a day with sunshine, the first day of good weather for weeks. To celebrate I bought an unusual but gorgeous snack to accompany my habitual cup of tea.

This product is an unctuous flavour bomb. I may start making them at home. It went down very well with a cup of tea.

The tide was out so rock pooling was the activity of choice. The trouble with rock pooling is that discovering creatures hidden under rocks is not the most photographic experience, as any right-minded sea creature quickly shuttles under a different rock very quickly. Sunbeams, however, can easily be trapped for photography.

Photography was on other peoples minds too, as a wedding party arrived to take some memorable images on this beautiful stretch of coast.

But first a more pressing problem, where could the bride and bridesmaids have a wee? The public toilets were a quagmire of sand and other detritus from a busy beach day.

Plans were made, there was a significant delay and then photographs were posed.

And finally a lovely long distance shot that looks like a figurative abstract.

Not a single page of my book was read.

#672 theoldmortuary ponders

What traditions have you not kept that your parents had?

My parents were young people with a small child in the sixties. Traditions were thrown out of their lives with the same enthusiasm as many of their generation. Christmas was perhaps their most ‘traditional’ time

One tradition was my dads desire to gift both business and personal diaries to family members on Boxing Day. In the United Kingdom that is the day after Christmas day. Whatever would people think in 2023 if I kept that tradition going.  Diary and calendar use has truly fallen off a cliff with most people keeping an electronic diary. The Filofax was the first death blow to traditional diaries and that was quickly passed over for electronic memory jogging.

For some years I managed with an electronic diary but once I returned to doing complex shifts and on-calls I really needed a paper record, the chance of running out of a phone battery at the point someone wanted to swap a complex set of shifts was more common than you might think. At that point I returned to the flexibility of a filofax and have stuck with it. No risk of battery failure but a big risk of being not to hand at the exact moment I need it.

There is a poignancy to diaries and my dad. He died unexpectedly and suddenly from bowel cancer in the middle of treatment. His treatment plan carefully plotted two months beyond his life. I still have that diary. I now know that it was his decision to stop treatment when the odds of it giving him a good quality of life were slipping away.

On a lighter note, as you see from the only photo my filofax is not a thing of tidyness or order.

#671 theoldmortuary ponders

Was today typical?

If today was yesterday, it was not completely typical. The long distance swimmers,who are also bobbers, took off from our usual bobbing location, but for a longer distance swim with very little chatting. What was not so typical was that a bright red Royal Navy ship sailed past the bobbing zone making the whole thing more colourful.

Normally bobbers are tiny orange dots swimming in the sea with military grey ships sailing past. Not so yesterday. HMS Protector sailed past as they were swimming out. Link below for information.

news/navy/onboard-hms-protector-royal-navys-ice-patrol-ship

If we think our waters can be chilly at times, this ship spends most of its working life in the Antarctic. It has just been in Plymouth for a bit of a spruce up and training. The bobbers were not the only bright things in the sea yesterday.

#670 theoldmortuary ponders

And just like that the rain has stopped. Juggling grandchildren and rain is one of the great unknowns of a British Summer. This slightly explains the erratic nature of blogging over July and August.

Not that rain is completely a bad thing, every morning a small bowl of garden strawberries is served to a happy 4 year old. This lunchtime the first red tomato was cut in half and shared as a snack.

The tomatoes in hanging baskets are behind in the colour stakes but ahead in fecundity.

Other jobs like recycling and rubbish removal into the outside world are infinitely more pleasant without rain.

But what has caused this sudden break in some truly shocking weather? Almost certainly the delivery of a really long Dryrobe for a small person apparently it will fit her from age 5 to 9. That is a really long dry spell if this coat really is the weather charm we hope for.

#659 theoldmortuary ponders

This is a sign of a good Saturday. The Saturday newspaper is still virtually unread on Sunday morning.  My only print copy of the week when it remains unread until Sunday. If, by chance, it has been read fully on Saturday then a Sunday paper is purchased. I probably am a typical Guardian reader and am as comfortable with that as any other stereotype. Sometimes people I know personally are written about or contribute to the Guardian. In recent months two colleagues have been featured. One was Maggie Jenkin who does invaluable work solving human mysteries.

ttps://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2023/may/27/the-wembley-point-mystery-who-was-the-woman-who-jumped-to-her-death

Today another colleague is in the spot light. Naming herself as Dr Biscuit.

I have had long letters to the letters page and had them published and art exhibitions reviewed in the pages of The Guardian.

The guardian also has an alternative Obituary service called Other Lives.

The obituaries are of notable but normal people. The Obituaries are written by friends, colleagues and family members. Far from sadness these essays on a life are life affirming. The power of being under the radar of celebrity and yet contributing massively to the positive aspects of society and culture.

I can’t link directly but should the lives of normal people inspire you just google – Other Lives The Guardian.

Let me be honest, the Sports pages get recycled with the pages unmoved in this house but Feast often feeds us for a week.

Other newspapers get read occasionally. Last week the Guardian was sold out so I slipped to the Dark- side and read a Rupert Murdoch product. The Times, it is no bad thing to sometimes go for change but the behaviour of News International Journalists and management makes the Times only a real emergency read. Not because it isn’t good because it is but my moral compass spins uncomfortably as I read it. Also the quality of their paper for their cooking pages is glossy and fragile, barely surviving one cooking moment in my kitchen. Feast goes on for years.

As could I on a Sunday…

#658 theoldmortuary ponders

Just a little Saturday extra. I always treat myself to a print copy of a Saturday newspaper, The Guardian. My most regular shop is a Co-op in Devonport. I am blown away that humans have crossed this threshold for the last 233 years. Originally it was a Unitarian Chapel and the fashion for men and women of the time was as below.

My clothing today, while collecting the newspaper, more closely resembles the male style of dress, a pair of exercise leggings, a tight fitting under vest and a loose swinging top.

By 1801 the Chapel had fallen out of use, mostly because Unitarianism was considered disloyal in a town that was primarily a military and thus Royalist town. Unitarians were enthusiastic supporters of the French Revolution. In a Spiritual switch around the Chapel became a Wine Merchants and may possibly have been a short-lived pub called The George.

The building was previously considered to be in  George Street Devonport. And now it is a convenience store without actually moving an inch,in Duke street which conveniently sells newspapers on a Saturday. One other shop related ponder. I bought a sequin top to make a mermaid outfit from a charity shop. The young, male, shop assistant looked at my purchase and said. ” We should all try to sparkle every day”

Bonus ponders…

#657 theoldmortuary ponders

There is nothing set to excite the bobbers than a colour chart and samples of Hoodies for the winter bobbing season. Even in a very dull patch of an English summer the thought of snuggly jumpers in January fires the imagination.

Tranquility Bay was anything but tranquil as we made decisions about the sartorial style of Winter 23/24. We don’t even have to agree on a colour as the only common denominator is the word ‘Bobbers’ on the back. But 74 colours, 2 styles and 15 humans is a heady mix of indecision. Particularly when the endorphins and positive ions of a good cold water dip make us all a bit giddy at the best of times.

This morning there are 40 WhatsApp messages….

#656 theoldmortuary ponders

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.