Tag: Stonehouse

#1435 theoldmortuary ponders.

On By theoldmortuary.designIn SerendipityLeave a comment
Tidal Pool in the morning

Two beaches.

Two bits of History

Two brushes with authority.

The lovely feeling of mirth bubbling up through absurdities

Another day of domestic and Tennis Club administration loomed yesterday. Embellished by a trip to two different beaches at either end of the day.

My first minor skirmish with authority was with  an armed escort as I returned from the tidal pool to home on my morning dog walk. Following hard on the heels of Royal Marines returning from their morning walk.

My next walk of the day was with a friend to explore the historic but hidden walls of our maritime town.

We wandered with our dogs and looked at ancient walls hidden amongst small housing developments. Crenellated walls providing shelter to chickens and an urban orchard.

A much wilder area of bigger walls was inaccessible to us but appears to be being cleared to provide a place for lunch breaks and beehives for a local boatyard. Although local,  intrigued historical sleuths were discouraged by the deliberate placing of fallen branches and brambles.

We had to make our way out via a shiny car dealership. Now the trouble with locating historical defensive walls is that they are effective. We couldn’t scramble down a possible rampart.

So we had to make our way through the car dealership. Not under the watchful eyes of keen eyed Archers with poison tipped arrows, aimed at us or our dogs. But CCTV cameras with Cyclops eyes following our every move in case we made off with a new car tucked in our pockets. We had been seen. We carried on our history ramble for maybe twenty minutes or so along the course of a reclaimed river bed.( Once the location of the actual Shit Creek where sailors were trapped without a paddle)

Soon enough we found ourselves back where we started near the car dealership. We may not have caught the flinty eyes of  Archers on battlements but we had raised the hackles of Car Salesmen . Two men in bright white shirts, over tight trousers, and trendy, but cheap shoes were fixing hastily created laminated signs to their perimeter fence.

In the search for history we had transgressed. Historically things could have been so much worse!

So that is me done with close encounters with authority but history was not done with me for the day.

For about 8 weeks I have been trying to apply for a postal address and post code for the Tennis Club I help to run.

The on-line form just didn’t work for me. Two failed attempts had disheartened me and earlier this week I took the  last chance advice of the website and wrote a snail mail, old school letter to the advice desk of our local council. I won’t bore you with all the complexities of the situation but there have been a lot of boxes to tick and I feel I may have ticked them all and still stumbled.

Less than 24 hours after the snail mail was posted I got a helpful email reply from the council. History has bitten me on the bum!  The box I needed to tick for a 100 year old tennis club without an address or postcode was …

New Build.

It really was a day where my funny bone was tickled by the absurdity of modern life clashing with history.

Wembury

A day of admin, absurdity and beaches, with history as the entertainment.

#1404 theoldmortuary ponders.

On By theoldmortuary.designIn weather, YardeningLeave a comment
Drying Washing in the Yard 2025 ©theoldmortuary

We have not yet hit the giddy heights of drying washing in under two hours, as we can easily do in the Summer months. But in just under a week our washing lines have gone from support for our festive winter lights to drying an enormous load in eight hours.

The progress in our yard in one week is madness. We have gone from rain every day since Christmas to no rain for 10 days.

We were definitely late to start yardening jobs this year. 10 days of dry weather has kicked our yardening backsides. There have been some winter casualties, drownings mostly. All consigned to compost over the last weekend. One miraculous recovery.

We have had a Palm tree for about 10 years, he has moved, in a pot, from London to Cornwall and now Devon. 10 years in survival mode, never really thriving but surviving in a pretty lacklustre way. He was planted in a raised bed two or three years ago and just sat there, moodily surviving, not really bothering to make roots or friends with any other nearby plants.

Over the weekend I cleared the debris from an unplanned Pampas Grass . Hiding under the fringes of the Pampas was a glorious and vigorous palm tree. Solidly rooted into the ground and probably a foot taller than when I last saw him. There is no horticulural logic to this. He has been living in a bog for the last 6 months, his only source of nutrients is our dog poo, coffee grounds hygienic/organic dog poo disposal system.

Further tidying up will prepare him, for the first time, for some proud yardening  photos. Not something I ever imagined doing.

#1399 theoldmortuary ponders

On By theoldmortuary.designIn chores, Spring1 Comment

A sunny morning kicks off the 2026 Vintage Marmalade Season in our house. Marmalade by Gill (a bobber) makes its first appearance on breakfast toast.

The sun was everywhere this morning. But we are living in a ghost town. Nobody is visiting. Dreadful for local businesses.

The traffic situation was apparently terrible yesterday . Not that I experienced it as I walked or used public transport for my Wednesday Adventures.  The traffic situation is even keeping the swimmers away.

A more reliable one way system is being considered to ease the Ghost Town effect. Until then I think most people who can avoid coming here, will. Yesterday a coach caused a prolonged traffic jam but apart from odd incidents the traffic is only really bad at predictable times. It is the sun that is keeping me at home today, not a fear of traffic. Some yardening needs to be attended to.

Sunshine also filled our yard today. These beautiful roses are turning their heads to the sun and I must take the winter lights off the washing line so it can be used for actual drying of washing.

Just a couple of hours of tinkering in a sun filled yard makes  all the difference. Although there are no areas that look particularly pretty it won’t be too long before I can sit out with a coffee and not feel compelled to do yardening. I just need the sun to warm up enough to dry out the last damp vestiges of a very wet winter.

But for now more wandering in our Ghost Town.

https://www.plymouth.gov.uk/news/exclusion-zone-put-place-around-evolution-cove-block-stonehouse?fbclid=IwdGRjcARX3q1jbGNrBFfdqmV4dG4DYWVtAjExAHNydGMGYXBwX2lkDDM1MDY4NTUzMTcyOAABHnGEU-zWrzkQrefBuj360Rg7UfOWJ049ip6YxAQqxA6n62AWGDP3ijQWVN5f_aem_mD7bE5xsCVYkMbhm3b-DCA

#1355 theoldmortuary ponders.

On By theoldmortuary.designIn BobbingLeave a comment
Cold in more ways than one.

And after sunshine the cold must come. 7 degrees yesterday and a pale and watery sun. The North wind was blowing. 3 intrepid bobbers went into the sea and 4 intrepid bobbers kept their clothes on to keep watch for Sea Monsters and Merpeople intent on kidnap. The sea was flat and calm. Nothing happened.

Bobbing and bobbers are one of the positive left overs from the Pandemic era. Formed to give a tiny group, now much bigger,of friends enjoying outdoor swimming exercise during the Covid Lockdowns. We started off 2 metres apart and strung out along  the promenade. Now we huddle together. Sometimes 15 of us share a tiny 4 metre shelter as a changing space. Other times when the weather is kind spilling onto the Prom to let salt flecked skin dry in heat of the sun.

As the Covid era slips from recent memory into history. The last lockdown was 4 years ago. Bobbing, and the friendship group developed, shows no sign of being forgotten.

Yesterday we sold the car that was chosen in 2021 specifically because it had heated seats. We used to live 20 minutes away from the Bobbing beach. A hot bottom was essential on days when the temperature was below freezing. Bobbing caused us to move 10 minutes walk away from the Bobbing beach. A hot bottom had become a daily driving pleasure but not essential. As we drove to do the part -exchange the seats were turned on to full.  We have entered the cold bottom era.

#1421 theoldmortuary ponders.

On By theoldmortuary.designIn Beach Life, Devils PointLeave a comment
©theoldmortuary

This is a beach near home that I never swim at. It is the nearest usable and accessible beach to the pointiest portion of Devils Point. The seven currents and fast-flowing water of constantly changing tides give the area its name. I don’t believe it is safe for anything more immersive than a paddle. The name is the warning. ow You will note that there was enough weak sunlight to create a sharp shadow this morning.

©theoldmortuary

Day 42 and as yet no rain…

This is the first time I have been to this beach in 2026. Perpetual rain has made me keep my head and eyes down with no wavering from my planned walk. I have even failed to register my favourite clump of daffodils until today. Traditionally they start blooming around New Years Day. I suspect they were later this year.

A day with a startling amount of yellow and no rain as yet.  A yellow letter day! The rain arrived at 5 pm the evening dog walk returned to a determined walk with productivity in mind . No more ambling between rocky beaches and daffodils.

43 days with rain

#1402 theoldmortuary ponders.

On By theoldmortuary.designIn Stonehouse Lawn Tennis Club, Storms1 Comment

The Game of Storms. Trouble in Paradise. In the past week the tennis club that I help to run has been the location of an entirely different sort of competitive game. Last week Storm Goretti shed a large bough from one of our Ash trees into the gardens of our neighbours.

  This week an unnamed storm dropped one of their Sycamore trees into our walled allotments.

A storm tit for tat that needs to stop. Thankfully neither incident caused any harm to humans.  Humans though,on either side of the wall have worked together to clear the debris.

The smell of recently felled hardwoods has filled the air with woody fragrance which is a small recompense for the sound of shrill chainsaws that has dominated the usual peace of the place.

Not so tranquil days at the club that overlooks Tranquillity Bay.

We are so lucky that no-one was harmed.

Love All

#1386 theoldmortuary ponders.

On By theoldmortuary.designIn Winter1 Comment
A glorious morning in Stonehouse

Our Morning Glory reusable coffee cups from Morning Glory Cafe on Coogee Beach.

Holidays and Christmas firmly behind us, the first Monday in January finds us with a list of chores and jobs all made a lot more tolerable by beautiful sunshine.

The sun even penetrated the car cleaning chore.

Our reusable coffee cups are useful and a great reminder of our first breakfast in Australia.

Morning Glory Cafe | Great coffee, great food, great service https://share.google/3HmDgRHaONki19kWJ

I will take a cold West Country winter with bright sunlight any day but a warm early summer in Sydney in December certainly has made it much more tolerable. I feel like I have had a power pack inserted, I really hope it lasts until at least the end of March.

#1365 theoldmortuary ponders.

On By theoldmortuary.designIn Yardening1 Comment
View from the Studio window.

The first early darkness of GMT in the studio/work room. We have installed winter lights. 4 years in, living in this house, and the yard is where we want it to be. Even last year the yard did not spark joy when illuminated in winter but the curious weather of 2025 gave us an enormous growth spurt of our container and climbing plants from September until now. We picked a fresh strawberry yesterday and there are still tomatoes ripening.

The loss of natural light in the afternoon is sad but an urban jungle illuminated  by festoon lights is going to be something to look forward to as my afternoons get darker.

The upstairs room above the studio has a deep window seat, a fabulous place for reading books. Largely ignored in the winter it will become the favourite place it often is in Summer.

The window seat also has  really heavy curtains so it becomes like a glass walled hide-out.

Of course seeing our winter yard in the dark, gives a different perspective and already I have spotted a corner where another container tree  might find a home. A Mimosa perhaps?

All this and I didn’t even turn on the old mortuary neon light!

#1302 theoldmortuary ponders

On By theoldmortuary.designIn weather1 Comment
Firestone Bay

The last public holiday in England before Christmas Day. A day that often disappoints with slightly grumpy weather. Today though, was gorgeous and this panoramic view is like a great turquoise smile expressing exactly how a holiday Monday should be.

I had a swim and didn’t want it ever to end, but superb swims, like all good things must come to an end. The balmy waters of Firestone Bay were just perfect today. There is a suggestion that the weather will turn tomorrow…

And just like that the rain arrived overnight.

Very disappointing weather behaviour. Of course exactly the sort of thing that underlines that the scrag end of summer has established itself as a transitional season and that layers and waterproofs may be needed for all future adventures.

Tuesdays forecast.

#1323 theoldmortuary ponders.

On By theoldmortuary.designIn Serendipity1 Comment
Summer Breeze makes me feel fine, blowing through the Holly Hocks of my mind.

Early summer is a fragile thing, a million things need to come together, in June, to create fragrant blooms and buzzy bees, with legs and fluffy bottoms all dusted with pollen. I love a Hollyhock but growing them eludes me. A minor success this year in the yard was quashed by the voracious appetites of our slugs and snails. Not for us the gentle hum of bees going about their business, just the inexorable chomp of a chorus* of slimy mouths feasting on our tender and tasty single Hollyhock survivor.

These Hollyhocks survive proudly, on the edge of a busy roundabout. Cared for by volunteer urban gardeners, they survive where mine cannot. Despite slightly obsessive attention. And yet, crazy, wild self-seeded Hollyhocks look down on me from cracks in rock walls and cliffs by the sea. Seemingly immune to the chomp of slugs and snails and happily hosting buzzy bees with dusty bottoms.

You may wonder where this ponder is going. The * is  the answer. A recording of a single slug having a chomp, imagine what a choir of them would sound like in a back yard.

* https://youtu.be/ByTLXNwe27M?si=7HdoA-ghu95wC4Qz