#1281 theoldmortuary ponders

Does bright yellow signify the beginning of the ‘Scrag end of Summer’.

We have had a most unusual summer, 5 heatwaves have rendered our back yard almost unusable because of  excessive heat. Evenings being the only time we could comfortably sit out, or tinker with our plants.

Nearly a week since the last heatwave left the area, the later part of sitting in the yard last evening required rugs.

So heatwaves apart, we are now in an entirely normal late summer pattern. Mentally we extend summer into the whole of September. Optimistic that Autumn will only descend on the 1st of October with a crescendo of pumpkins.

A very interesting question in light of the 5 heatwaves + 1 more scheduled for September, is what will the 2026 Pumpkin season look like? 1st World Problems.

Painting pumpkins is one of my favourite fruit and Vegetable art moments.

Which leads me somewhat circuitously to the the art drama of my past week. Two hybrid prints featuring the moon were sent off for a test print. One came back looking  good the other did not.  So back to the drawing board in the literal and actual sense.

For my image I wanted the moon to look soft and mythical, exactly like cream cheese.

The Moon is made of green cheese” is a statement referring to a fanciful belief that the Moon is composed of cheese. In its original formulation as a proverb and metaphor for credulity with roots in fable, this refers to the perception of a simpleton who sees a reflection of the Moon in water and mistakes it for a round cheese wheel. It is widespread as a folkloric motif among many of the world’s cultures, and the notion has also found its way into children’s folklore and modern popular culture.


Queso fresco (“fresh cheese”), a green cheese, with typical white, round appearance resembling a full moon.
The phrase “green cheese” in the common version of this proverb (sometimes “cream cheese” is used),[1] may refer to a young, unripe cheese[2][3][4][5] or to cheese with a greenish tint.[6]

My first attempt , which I was entirely happy with until the test print, did in fact look very much like a green and slightly misshapen cheese. I wanted gentle swirls of Philadelphia.

Cream Cheese Moon 🎬2

Cream Cheese moon, created by swirling wet Posca pens with my finger has successfully been inserted into my original image and the nasty green moon banished. Another first world problem to ponder on a Sunday evening in a yard which is, for the first time this summer pleasantly warm rather than roasting.

Crossing the Bar 2 ©theoldmortuary

#1278 theoldmortuary ponders

Partial Eclipse 2026, work in progress.© theoldmortuary

It is just over a week since I bobbed during the partial eclipse with 9 other bobbers. At the time the experience was both peculiar and beautiful.  Peculiar because we swam for virtually the whole of the eclipse experience. Quite often with special Eclipse glasses which gave us a completely safe experience to view the eclipse in real time, but our vision  was limited to black and red vision of the black moon obscuring most of an orange sun . While our bodies were experiencing the sensations of the sea and our ears were hearing the happiness and exclamations of a bay, full of happy swimmers.

When we didn’t have the glasses on we were experiencing ever changing highly saturated colours that slowly darkened and changed as the moon crossed the sun. One of my Eclipse glasses visions was of sparks of light like golden diamond twinkles firing off the perimeter of the sun. I think caused by drops of sea water on my eyelashes or on the plastic lens of the eclipse glasses.

I knew I wanted to create an image of the experience, but which one?

Until I decided to throw caution to the wind and put all my recollections into one image. Not as mad as you might think for someone who worked in medical imaging. For example a CT scan image is made of many amalgamated pictures taken from lots of different angles at slightly different times.

My hybrid printmaking technique with photography and painted or mono printed images uses exactly that technique, modified a little.

Yesterday I had to get a bit of a wiggle on to get this image off to a printer for a test run Giclee print. It is still not the finished article but I will need to see how a print looks.

So that’s where the image is currently but what about my personal recollection?

Really one of the loveliest things I have done in a really familiar home environment. I still haven’t quite found the words to describe the experience. But I have found the many layers of a half decent picture.

#1527 theoldmortuary ponders.

Soft Summer ©theoldmortuary.

July 1st 2026. May and June have rushed by in a way that January and February never do. Every aspect of the early part of the first day of July in 2026 is soft, the colours are soft, the sea is soft, and there was a soft but nippy breeze.

Soft Steps ©theoldmortuary

Even the tide, gently falling, made soft sounds on the rocks. A gentle farewell as the sea pulls away from coastline. Like the soft hug of a temporary parting. I wonder how the rest of July will progress.

#1435 theoldmortuary ponders.

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.

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

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.

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.

©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.

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.

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.