Month: May 2016

The View from Here: tangled thoughts and tattered expectations

I can’t always sing from the treetops about how wonderful life is because sometimes, it’s not.

This past Saturday was the start of our Fowey Festival experience.  I had been so looking forward to it: I’ve never attended an event like this before and B and I have done relatively little together on the cultural front.   Also, this would be our first introduction to Fowey.  We’ve lived here well over a month and we’ve yet to venture over there.  Now we’ll be going several times in a week.  Continue reading “The View from Here: tangled thoughts and tattered expectations”

Polruan and Fowey, come rain, come shine. Part two … sun

Yesterday our ferry had whipped harsh words around my head as we sailed: cold, wet, grey, brooding. This morning our ferry laughed gaily and sang of buoys and boats, seagulls and sunshine.

The day after our inaugural crossing to Fowey we were scheduled to return, this time in the morning in readiness for a guided walk.  And this time the sun was out.  What a difference!  Continue reading “Polruan and Fowey, come rain, come shine. Part two … sun”

Polruan and Fowey: come rain, come shine. Part one … rain

Sadly, our particular ferry did not have a roof … the journey was damp and bracing. Grey and mercifully short.

We’ve now crossed to Fowey and back twice.  What a contrast between the two visits.

When we set out for our first festival event – a talk of B’s choosing – the sky was dark and a few spots of rain fell as we climbed into the car.  “It’ll stop,” we said, “It’s nothing.”  It did not stop.  We did not take coats.

Continue reading “Polruan and Fowey: come rain, come shine. Part one … rain”

The View from Here: tea with Daphne revisited

“There are few hours in life more agreeable than the hour dedicated to the ceremony known as afternoon tea.” Although I would have to add: “… with a wondrous book to hand”.

Today has been a no-weather day, only the second such day that I’ve acknowledged since we arrived. No-weather days are at the bottom of the heap: no rain, no sun, no wind.  Nothing.  Just the world waiting… waiting for something to happen next. Continue reading “The View from Here: tea with Daphne revisited”

The View from Here: Polperro

A gaggle of higgledy houses; warm-fronted cafes; artists’ shops, novelty shops, bohemian clothes shops, ice cream shops; pubs, gulls and fishing boats.

The sun was shining; we both felt relaxed and free.  B wanted petrol for the mower; I wanted to get us registered with our local doctor.  “Let’s do both,” we said.   Continue reading “The View from Here: Polperro”

May in the Garden: the Mixbury bed

Who knows how it came to be there but it said ‘flower bed’ to me.

With the advent of better weather, I’ve been busy in the garden.  They do say to leave a garden alone for the first year and see what comes up.  I did plan to do that, but I’ve brought some plants with me and homes must be found for them, plus there are certain must-haves which were not evident here when we arrived, so they had to be bought and planted, and while I was ordering those, a few other things slipped into the basket.  One things just leads to another… Continue reading “May in the Garden: the Mixbury bed”

Birds on the Balcony: squabblers and mobsters

It does not do to get on the wrong side of a crow

Today I watched two examples of aggressive behaviour that brought home to me how little I know about even the most commonplace of our birds.  The sparrows were particularly quarrelsome this morning: Continue reading “Birds on the Balcony: squabblers and mobsters”

The View from Here: a damp, bright start to May

Looks like we may have another runner in the family!

The first day of May and it’s pouring down.  What a contrast from yesterday.  There are May Day celebrations all around here, including a very ancient traditional one in a nearby town.  Continue reading “The View from Here: a damp, bright start to May”