This post has existed in draft for almost a year. It seems fitting to publish it now – in its original guise – with an update at the end.
July 2019 It was easy when I began blogging. I wrote for myself. Slowly a community has built which I value highly, but as it has grown I find myself questioning the content I choose. I begin to ask myself what others may wish to read; I begin comparing what I post against what others post. And that’s not what it’s about. Family stuff has quietly slipped off the table although it was a key part of why I started the blog in the first place. But this is a post that I want here for many reasons. I remind myself that it’s easy enough for people to slide on past if the subject matter is not to their taste. Continue reading “The View from Here: love is the true price of love (George Herbert)”
For a week or so, I have been considering drafting a Mother’s Day post. It would have been one of my rambles, perhaps on my role as a mother and as a daughter. But today (I am writing on Thursday March 8th) leaves me wanting to pare down my usual florid style and take a different tack. In the end, I don’t know that I’ve done a lot of paring. But what I want to say matters to me. It stands as it is. 
January draws to a close. One month ago this evening – on New Year’s Eve – it was wet. Torrentially wet. The tale of our attempts to enjoy the NYE celebrations at Looe may resurface at more length one day but for now I shall say only that the weather played a significant, and not very pleasant, role. B’s face probably says it all. 
It is the twenty-fifth of January. This time last month was another 25th. It was Christmas Day. Yes, a distant memory already; we’ve been back in the real world quite long enough to have packed away all thoughts of Christmas with the baubles and the tinsel. When it comes to including Christmas here in A Corner of Cornwall I’m even later than last year, but I do want a record of it and it is just a month back after all. Not so very long ago. But be warned. And if you really can’t stomach the thought a brief foray back into festive realms I can’t blame you. I suggest you move along briskly. 
This weekend’s new moon ushered in the Chinese New Year. It is the year of the Rooster: the Fire Rooster no less. I knew I was born in the year of the Rooster but only now have I learned that I am a Fire Rooster. Fire Roosters are apparently trustworthy, with a strong sense of time-keeping and responsibility at work. I doubt there is anyone that knows me who would vouch for my strong sense of time-keeping but the other two attributes I’d like to think were applicable. I am in august company, it seems. In no particular order, more famous fellow Fire Roosters include Dawn French, Donny Osmond, Jools Holland, Stephen Fry, Hans Zimmer and Martin Luther King III. Who knew! 
A Corner of Cornwall 