#688 theoldmortuary ponders.

What do you love about where you live?

What do I love about where I live? Where I live gives me my little fix of zen just five minutes walk from my front door. All of my life the coast has been my fixer of woes. I have never lived more than two hours from the coast. So always accessible easily. For two years that accesibility has been a five minute walk.

But I am a picky coast lover. I really dislike seaside tat. Garish shops and arcades, horrible mini fairgrounds, crazy golf, the list is extensive.

What I love about my current location is that for centuries it has been a key maritime military defence area and has been protected from typical coastal development. Only fairly recently completely accessible to the public there are walks and a park that overlooks the sea with not one bit of traditional seaside tackiness.

All of the bright colours in this blog are provided by my early morning dog walk.

It is not just me that loves the peace snd simplicity of our early morning walk.

Hugo and Lola are dogged in their quest for tranquility.

Why do I love where I live? Because this locationion suits me very well.

#687 theoldmortuary ponders

Sometimes I can be a daft creature. Yesterday we popped out to visit a friend’s new shed.

” Why have you called it I-ow-ee-ah” I asked

It turns out the shed is on allotment 101A. There was me thinking the shed had a Hawaiian name for serenity or bountiful but no just an utterly practical plot number.

Allotments at dusk are magical places. Peaceful to a point. This set of community allotments are very close to Plymouth Argyle Football Club, which has been hosting Tribute bands for the last few evenings.

We were wandering on random mown pathways listening to the soundtrack of my youth. The soundtrack that had been playing as I snogged and caressed handsome strangers in the Nightclubs and Discos of North East Essex. Some tracks progressed with me to London, more interesting nightclub encounters, a more worldly world.

But allotment blooms at dusk are equally as interesting as my distant 1970’s nightlife musings.

Abstract shapes more fascinating in the slowly fading light.

And then a sunflower on the last track of our evening wander, still bright in the fading light.

#686 theoldmortuary ponders.

Happiness is my commonest positive emotion. It is my default setting. I have recently been made aware that I rarely show ecstatic emotion. I laugh a huge amount and do genuinely take great joy from many things. But I am not sure I know how to express the increased level of joy life brings me when my regular happiness levels get a boost. Misery or worry are also less obvious to other people, for me the indicator is insomnia. If my happiness quota most days were a colour it would be a variety of shades of orange. Extreme happiness would be yellows and crossness, irritation, sadness or anger would be many shades of red. Perhaps I need to show more yellow and some red instead of occupying a mostly orange mindspace.  Always something to learn, always room for improvement. Perhaps a little blue or green should be added into my outwardly projected emotional serving.

What positive emotion do you feel most often?

#685 theoldmortuary ponders

Evening dog walk with enhancements.

The British Firework Championship was being held just across from our swimming zone.

We could see the flashes and hear the bangs as soon as we left home. A sure sign we had talked too much over supper. No real surprise there,we always talk too much. There were even some illuminated swimmers in our usual bobbing spot.

This morning everything had returned to normal and a dozen happy bobbers swam in the bay without the excitement of fireworks. One bobber had returned to us after being away in Abu Dhabi and another had been dealing with some family complications in London. It felt so good to have a big group of bobbers together to refresh our hearts and minds in the cool waters of Tranquility Bay. We are each others metaphorical fireworks, lighting and lifting one another as and when needed.

#684 theoldmortuary ponders.

Sometimes there is a question that requires an answer and sometimes the answer has to wait a bit. This time last year we were accustomed to being, mostly distant, hands off, Skype, grandparents to one small person. On the horizon however were two more grandchildren.

How would we cope with 3 when our hearts were somewhat full of one?

As it happens hearts swell to accomodate and we have just concluded a summer month of 3.

The answer turns out to be that we coped and 3 is fabulous.

But two of them are not on their legs yet.

#683 theoldmortuary ponders

What brings you peace?

Nothing specific brings me peace but I find that peace often just finds me, sometimes in unexpected moments. This morning the Oosterschelde set sail from Plymouth on a two year voyage to replicate the journey of Charles Darwin.Who sailed from Plymouth on Beagle 200 years ago on the journey that inspired his work The Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection

https://maritime-executive.com/article/200-years-after-darwin-tall-ship-recreates-hms-beagle-s-famed-voyage

Seeing a Tall Ship up close is very impressive. As she slipped anchor to sail the world I felt a tiny stab of sadness.

But then seeing her sail by and gently raising her sails there was a moment of quietude and graceful momentum.

But soon enough the boat, that was so large and imposing in the harbour started to lose significance in Plymouth Sound.

And in moments was lost in the low lying sea mist that was further out . Peace came gently, just watching a tall ship quietly slip into invisibility

#682 theoldmortuary ponders.

I was in a slightly eccentric cafe today when this picture knocked on my memory. In the 1970’s this print hung on my parents dining room wall. It was a mass produced print. Possibly from a chain retailer like Woolworth. This would have been completely out of character, our home exuded mid century modern good taste long before it was retro-chic. I was possibly the only person who ever looked at this picture In a small family of three we all sat at the same place at the table every day. I know my dad hated it, my mum never expressed an opinion. I imagine it was a gift that had to be seen when the person who gifted it visited. I looked at this lightly wooded scene most days for ten years. Then when I left home and there were just two people left in my home my parents decided to build a new extension on the back of the house. The wall where this picture hung was fitted with shelf units and it was never seen again, until today.

Oh the difficult conversations that have been had while staring at this woodland stream. The awkward silences, the introduction of unsuitable boyfriends. The endurance of meals that did not suit my hungover, teenage self. There were celebrations and happy meals too, reunions, parties and special birthday  gatherings.

I wonder where the picture went. My heart gave a little jump when I saw it today. There is a part of me that still wonders where the stream of life is taking me and another part that would be happy to still be in the dining room just looking at this, one more time with my parents.

#681 theoldmortuary ponders

If you were going to open up a shop, what would you sell?

I really don’t have the skillset to open a shop but I know absolutely what it would be and what it would sell. Books… Cakes… Coffee… Art…

It would be in the old waiting room of a railway station and would flex as the day/days progress. Early in the morning I would sell coffee and croissants to commuters. By 10 am the cakes of the  day would be delivered and people who wanted books and a place to  gather would start to come in. The sun is always out and people sit outside overlooking trains or countryside. By 5pm the book browsers are gone. Some evenings in the month cooks rent my fabulous kitchen and create ‘Pop-up’ events. Similarly poets, musicians and comedians rent the space to perform intimate gigs to knowledgable audiences.

My space would be a community hub and by owning it I would meet eclectic and fascinating people every day. My idea of perfection.

#680 theoldmortuary ponders

Daylight through my pocket, the one with my phone and optimism in it.

What is the most important thing to carry with you all the time?

Optimism is the most important thing to keep in my pocket, along with my smartphone.I don’t quite understand the point of pessimism. I am not rude enough to cancel pessimists,they have some valid views and can be interesting to talk to, but draining at the same time. I am pathetically optimistic although completely accepting of the serendipity of life including the, sometimes unpalatable, negative aspects.

Another genuine and unplanned pocket picture of optimism

#679 theoldmortuary ponders

Describe your life in an alternate universe.

I have no idea when I last updated my Facebook Avatar. More than six years ago for certain. I have paid her very little attention. Today I was surprised when she popped up next to a comment I was about to send to a friend.

I have morphed into my Avatar without even trying. I own those glasses, white t shirts and a Chartreuse Cardigan.

Twenty years ago this was her.

Nothing more to be pondered. I am a woman who ditched a Basque for a cardi !