End Feb/ beginning March Snow Days 2018

I wasn’t going to write another blog until we had got well into March, but the past week has been breathtaking. Blizzards, ice and Storm Emma, racing across the country from East to West, disrupting daily lives and reminding us all about climate change and the increasing extremes of weather to which we’re slowly becoming exposed.

Wednesday 28 – Kent had already received plenty of snow when our share arrived as I began work in the studio on Wednesday morning. Within a couple of hours the hamlet was transformed into a world of white.

Despite the blizzard warnings I had to get out and take a look for myself. I wasn’t disappointed. I walked along the old river bed at the bottom of our hill, disturbing pairs of Oyster Catchers who had come to shelter on the still-flowing stream. The gorse and hawthorns lining the way were weighed down by layers of snow – the freezing wind transforming everything into a Narnia-landscape.

In Narnia

Thursday 1st March – After another extremely cold wind-shrieking night the world seemed calm in the morning, and I thought it was worth going out again, for a short walk around Bartinney. The hill was blocked with snow, and the bridle paths were heavy going (they’re rough at the best of times), being covered with a deep layer of snow that hid all obstacles.
The walk stretched out as I explored different paths, taking more photos, and eventually coming back round to the Sancreed road, which was fairly passable, unlike the roads where we are.
I took photographs of the snowdrifts on the hill, and watched our neighbours surfing down the hill. The fun way to travel when you don’t have a sleigh!
Snow:sleigh  SnowDrift

Friday was a miserable day – the snow on the roads had thawed overnight, but the air was freezing, leaving a thick layer of clear ice on the road outside. I stayed indoors.

The thaw continued, and Saturday was fairly bright. I went into Penzance for shopping, and it felt strangely exhilarating, after days of silence and slowness and cold, to be driving along: to be moving at speed.
The sea front at Newlyn was littered with pebbles and torn-up seaweed and Kelp. Foraging gulls rose protesting from the piles of uprooted material laying on the path and grassy areas as walkers disturbed them. Still very cold, I realized, even though I was walking briskly, and I dipped into the gallery to check out the new exhibition, Hummadruz, and get a coffee!

Hummadruz is an exhibition that brings together the magical elements of Cornwall’s present and past. Paintings and prints by Ithell Colquhon, who I discovered a few years ago, not realising at the time, her deep connection with this part of Cornwall. Magical talismans, performance, geology and pre-history, ritualistic objects and digital spells… it’s a corrective to the busy and pragmatic tourism that is so essential to the life of this part of Cornwall.
Coming in to the gallery from the cold stone-littered paths, with seaweed hanging from fence rails, the exhibition seemed like a natural extension of my thoughts.

Newlyn promenade littered with pebbles and seaweed
Painting – Ithell Colquhon

Later – I had to walk again, this time to one of my favourite places, the place where Spring always comes early. I parked at the top of the valley and walked to the cove, noting the light, the birdsong, the absence of snow, except for little patches here and there, tucked under a wall, or a hedge. The river was in full spate, but it had a different quality – it leaped and sparkled; where it dropped at each granite step, it seemed to be fighting its way up again, playfully, rather than rushing in a torrent to the cove. The sea, as it came into view, was luminous. But it was cold at the cove, there were thin sheets of ice on the rock pools, and lowering clouds.
Unexpectedly, as I walked back up the valley, the sun came out, and transformed the whole place into Spring. There are old hawthorns and willows lining the banks of the river, and in that golden light they glow with wonderful colours: purples, green-greys, bright greens. The birds were singing: I saw a bullfinch, chaffinchs, robins, tits…

the Reed Pond

I walked round to the reed pond, which is an old reservoir that held the water that ran the big wheel for the mine. Sat there for a while, amazed at the colour, and the difference between this day, and Wednesday. It didn’t seem possible.
Sunday – Pete took a day off, and we walked again. This time from Botallack to Pendeen Light. We were well dressed for the cold, and luckily for rain, because at the lighthouse the weather closed in around us, and lashed with rain. We made our way back to Geevor for a pasty (well-earned, we thought) and waited out an increasingly wet afternoon.

Copper-stained cliffs at Geevor
Here the spoil heaps from the mine leak out minerals that stain the cliffs

Sometimes we talk about our move here, and question ourselves. We’ve moved away from our family, and miss them, and our old friends, but what would life have been like had we stayed in Kent? We will always have these questions, and they’re unanswerable. But there is a variety and a life to this landscape that wasn’t available to us before, and it’s something we can share and communicate.


February 2018

On Feb 8 we went to the PV of ‘What Remains’ at the Exchange in Penzance. It’s a solo exhibition by sculptor Tim Shaw, which addresses the impact of terrorism on our lives. Tim had first-hand experience at the age of 7 when the IRA set off eighteen bombs in one day in Belfast, one in the café where he was with his mother.   The show is two installations, two rooms: one creates a kind of disorientation, as shadowy figures flee the chaos of the bombed café. In the other there’s a real sense of menace, and the artist’s anger is palpable. It’s a very powerful   exhibition.

Soul Snatcher Possession, Tim Shaw, Exhange Gallery Feb – May 2018

This has been a dismal month, and no doubt that has contributed to my ‘low mood’, although not going into the studio to work is also a factor. We’ve had sleet, a sprinkling of snow, lots of low cloud and rain – the usual for this time of year. The occasional sunny day has been a blessing, and Pete has managed to do quite a bit of clearing across the road.
I finally began some ‘experimental’ canvases, and I’ve been down to Priest Cove again to draw. It has taken a great effort – my mind has been full of negativity and anxiety: my right knee is arthritic, and getting noticeably worse, and my hearing is deteriorating too. It’s a terrible thing, to grow old ungratefully – but we all do. We all ‘rail against the dying of the light’. I try not to give in to the moods, which I think are largely due to being indoors so much.
SO – I have begun some small and inconsequential paintings, trying oils for the first time for about 30 years! And they’re lovely to use – here are a few unfinished experiments on canvas and board:

I don’t have a particular subject, at the moment, which for me is difficult because of the way I like to work. But I’m trying hard to shed all my previous habits and just approach painting with an open mind. I think I will return to the seaweeds and kelp, because there is something about the way they move across the surface of a painting that is seductive and beautiful – I’m wondering how much I can take away without losing that very particular quality?

At Tremenheere there has been an interesting exhibition of ‘concrete’ painting (a term used carefully by the artists, who are especially interested in exploring structures eg in nature) The visiting international artists are working at Newlyn gallery, where they share a public workspace. I went to a talk between Ivo Ringe and Neil Armstrong (of Tremenheere Sculpture Garden) and the discussion circled around the underlying geometry of certain plants, and of certain paintings in the exhibition. There is something for me in there – I just have to untangle it.

This week has been better – a run of sunny dry days makes all the difference and I have been digging over the garden, hoping that the frosts will finish the job for me. I’ve planted a few broad beans and peas – and have potted up just a few seeds; Tomatoes, Sweet Peas, Nasturtiums etc in the conservatory. It’s hopeful activity – the Easterly wind is very cold and the forecast is more frost, and possibly snow soon. In the garden we have daffodils, primroses, and the Camellia we rescued last year from its broken pot is in flower. Two Echium have self-seeded in the garden and I want to leave them to grow, just to see how they manage. Our tiny ‘lawn’ is full of daisies – I’m thinking about digging it up entirely and using it for vegetables this year and then re-grassing it. Maybe.

Pete is working in the bathroom adjacent to bedroom 4: we have in there a large claw-foot cast-iron bath, which needs to be re-surfaced. I think we’ve decided we’ll have this done, but it’s expensive.

This will be our ‘paying-guest’ part of the house, so we need to get it finished, so that we can see if it is feasible to do B & B. There is a small problem with the wall in the bedroom, but on the whole we think we should be able to make this part of the house into very attractive accommodation. Hopefully we will also be able to tidy up the living areas that we occupy at the moment: our sitting room needs re-plastering and damp-proofing before we can paint and put down new carpet, and our kitchen needs a fair bit of tidying!
At least the central heating this winter has helped to dry out the cottage, and we feel a little more ‘in control’ than we did this time last year.

Finally – another gift for the house. The local farmer asked if we would like a grandfather clock that he inherited from his aunt, who used to live here and run the local shop. When he was a boy his job was to come round every Sunday to wind the clock – when his aunt died she left it to him, but he feels it should be here, ‘where it belongs’. So now we have the clock; a nice Victorian country pine clock, not working at the moment, but it just needs a clean. It’s a friendly looking thing.
(It’s face looks like a ‘dismay’ emoticon)

Finally, finally – I have been reading Alice Oswald’s poems, which I love and have only recently discovered. She has a wonderful way with words, very visual…

‘Grass lifts, hedge breathes,
rose shakes its hair,
birds bring out all their washed songs,
puddles like long knives flash on the roads’

(extract from ‘A Greyhound in the Evening after a Long Day of Rain’, ALICE OSWALD,1996)

Going West: January 2018

Well – here we are in the New Year, and well in to our second year at Jacks House. Christmas came and went, with visits from children, friends and neighbours – an opportunity to slow down, to think about things other than the house and all the jobs that need to be done.
Dresser3 The kitchen dresser we ‘up-cycled’ was ready for Christmas, and looked very nice, brightening up a sometimes-dark corner of the kitchen. We have other bits of furniture lined up for similar treatment, when we have a moment.
The weather was so poor that we were pleased to huddle by the fire and do very little except be sociable. (And what is Christmas about, if not that?) But we did manage a few days out walking. New Year’s Eve was quite memorable, battling 50 mph gusts along the coast path from Lands End to Sennen, and watching the sea roaring up and over the cliffs and the harbour wall.

It passed all too quickly, and we were soon back to sorting out a plan-of-action for 2018. Top of our list this year is to renovate the fourth bedroom and sitting-room, so that friends and family can stay in privacy and comfort. But before beginning that, just a few small jobs that had to be finished: the floor tiles in the studio (Pete), and sorting through as yet unpacked boxes (me). Jobs that neither of us looked forward to with any enthusiasm, but that distracted us from the bad weather!

The next bright day found us walking from Lands End to Nanjizal – in the opposite direction along the coast. It was quite a muddy wet walk in places because we’d had so much rain since New Years Day – and where the coast path ran uncomfortably close to the cliff edge we had to pay particular attention: all round the Cornish coast sections of coastline have been radically changed this winter because of the succession of storms, the gales and the rain.

NanjizalWalkHomeJan18       NanjizalWalkJanuary18


It was a lovely walk in bright sunshine – nearly back to base, we made the acquaintance of the Lands End Cat.


In mid-January we went along to a meeting of the Ocean Pride renovation group, curious to know what will be involved in restoring this iconic fishing vessel. She was built in 1919, in Newlyn, and owned and operated by a succession of fishing families before ending her days high and dry on the banks of the Rother in Rye. The Ocean Pride has historic status, being ‘the only Peakes-built counter-stern lugger  left in the country’. She has now been brought back to Newlyn http://www.oceanpride.org.uk/News#OPhome051217
where she will be rebuilt and have a new life as a training vessel for apprenticeships, and for the community. What an inspiring project!

We’ve now begun swimming twice weekly, in the comfort of a private pool which we share with a few others. How lovely it is to be swimming again! I’m not a strong swimmer but the exercise is just wonderful! It will do us both good, and make us stronger – and we need to be, to be able to do the work that we set ourselves.

One other big job on our agenda for 2018 is to clear the overgrown land opposite our house, and on the first sunny day we had after New Year, we managed to get out there and start clearing brambles and nettles, and the detritus that accumulates on unused plots of land.

We managed two good days and then the weather closed in. Since then we’ve had a couple more: we’ll just keep snatching those fair-weather days until we finish the job. There’s a nice-sized pond that is perfect for a few ducks, although we’ve been told by more than one person that ‘ducks make such a mess!’ Alternatively we could keep chicken, but our neighbours have chicken, and we enjoy their eggs. Perhaps geese? But they’re quite noisy apparently. One daughter says that pigmy goats will make short work of the brambles and weeds, that’s very tempting! Our other daughter likes the idea of a pig…or even two…Lots to consider!

By the third week in January we were feeling the January blues, mostly because of the continual fog and rain that we get so much of here. On the one clear day we had, I spent a couple of hours in one of my favourite coves – trying to clear my mind and begin to think about painting again. The tide was a spring tide, and the waves were pretty huge, but at low tide I could scramble across the rocks and explore the rock-pools and the local geology.

Bathing Pool


Priest Cove is marked everywhere by the residue of its mining history, huge blasted boulders striped with veins of quartz and iron cover the shore around Cape Cornwall, and at low tide the adits and caves can be accessed, although it’s unwise to do so unless you’re very aware of the dangers, and very fit. I admire them from the outside, but I wish I was more informed about what I am looking at! As it was a chilly day, I’d put plenty of layers on, and became quite warm, climbing over the rocks. As I made my way back to the cove I was congratulating myself on not slipping (I had several small accidents last year). Then down to the cove came two women, one quite elderly, who proceeded to strip down to swimsuits and plunge into the bathing pool! I was so envious; of their ability to slip into the cold water so easily, and of their ease in their surroundings. I was reminded that I’m still very much an ‘incomer’.





Going West Weeks 52 – December 2017


Going West, Weeks 51 – Christmas 2017

Such a lot has happened in the past few weeks! The central heating is all done, and the difference it makes is huge! I don’t know how we managed last winter with partial central heating, and ‘faulty’ stoves. We are very fortunate.

I began work on the large canvas for our end-of-course Show in Penzance. Seaweed, particularly Kelp, has been the focus of much of my work this year, as I’ve watched it through different seasons, and different weathers on our local beaches. Research suggests that Kelp, as with other marine species, is being affected by rising sea levels and temperatures – ‘global warming’, ‘climate change’, call it what you will, we have done so much damage to our world, and despite David Attenborough’s rather forced ‘optimism’ at the end of the Blue Planet 2 series – ‘never have we been so aware of what we’ve done, and never have we had so much the power to put it right’ (paraphrased) – it seems very clear that we have gone far beyond a point of return.   Our planet will adapt and survive, but will we, as a species?
It is a luxury to have a studio large enough to make big work – and to be able to work every day without interruption. The painting progressed from this

Paint6a  through this:


To this over the next few weeks…


and there was a film to be made too, to complete the diptych I planned for the Show. When the weather permitted I was out filming in my favourite places, trying to capture the sounds I felt I needed: the lonely ‘peep’ of the Rock Pippet particularly. Unfortunately the sea is very rough and noisy this time of year – I couldn’t get a ‘clean’ recording. I should have foreseen that.

Week 52
The anniversary of our first year at Jacks House, and time to reflect and pat ourselves on the back for what we’d achieved, most especially Pete, as he’s done all the hard work. He’s still working – preparing our new cloakroom, which is the first room to be completed – transformed by Pete from a dark, wet shower room to a bright, clean and colourful room that will serve the studio and provide us with a downstairs loo.

ShowerRm1       ShowerRm2

At the end of October, the birds are massing on the wires; Starlings, Sparrows, Jackdaws briefly share perches at the close of the day, and flock together when they’re searching the fields for food.30OctBirds

At Halloween, we make biscuits for the Trick-or-Treaters: we hope they’ll call!


November has gone by in a blur, because of preparations for the Show. The film has not gone as I wished, and at the back of my mind I know it’s not what I originally intended. But I ignore that. The painting however, I’m happy with, as far as it goes. It’s still not completely as I would want it to be, but I have to stop painting at some point.I hardly sleep the week leading up to the Show – so much on my mind.
We invite the other students for supper the day they arrive in Penzance with their work, prior to hanging the Show. At last a chance to relax, share experiences, and get to know one another a little more informally.

The Show ‘RICH RAW’ took place over one weekend and was an exhausting blend of excitement (the Preview), and reality-rebukes (the Crits). I was pleased that I was able to show my work the way I had intended – but the work missed the mark. I had lost my way in the making of the film: I was disappointed. This is the way of things.


Unexpectedly, I sold my two Kelp prints! (Sea Dreams)
You can view my film on Vimeo  On Painting#6

Now it’s the run-up to Christmas, an excuse I can use to desert the studio and see to other things. I go briefly to Kent to see the children. I shop. I make Christmas cards re-cycled from previous years; a simple creative pleasure that proves to be unexpectedly rewarding.
Touring the antique shops, Pete finds the kind of dresser we have been looking for. He’s preparing it now, for repainting. We’ve already upcycled an old pine cupboard for our bathroom, and the new chalk paint makes it colourful and contemporary. We’re getting a taste for this lark – what else could we give a new lease of life to?
Dresser       Dresser2


Going West, weeks 49-51

The week ended with a return visit by our ‘chimney man’ to change the cowls on the the chimneys, in a hope that this will bring an end to the ingress of water when it’s very windy and wet. I hope this is the solution, because this has been one of our main concerns this year.

In the evening we went to St Ives – to celebrate Tate St Ives’ new gallery spaces, and to visit Porthmeor Open Studios, and then onto Anima Mundi for a show of Tim Shaw’s new work. The Tate was buzzing – a happy event that reminded me of the opening of the Turner Gallery in Margate in 2011.


At Anima Mundi, ‘Something is not quite right’ is the first part of a two-part, two-centre exhibition by the RA sculptor Tim Shaw. Small and beautifully made bronze maquettes point fingers at the establishment, and presage the large figure work that will be installed at the Exchange gallery in Penzance next year. Anima Mundi displays work over three floors, and in the ‘attic’ a disturbing tableau makes every viewer both voyeur and participant. Tim Shaw’s work is unashamedly political, and there is plenty of room for that in the arena of contemporary art today.


Week 51 w/e 20 October

The week began with Hurricane Ophelia on Monday, which, fortunately for us this time, though not for Ireland and Scotland, bypassed Cornwall’s westerly tip. We did have strong gales however, which prompted me to take out video and SLR cameras, to capture something of the power of the weather. I chose Porthgwarra, where I knew the Westerly gales would lash the waves against the shore. The sea was running high, and white with foam, as I’d hoped. Risking a walk to Gwennap Head, I was beaten back by lashing gusts on the cliff top, and couldn’t reach my goal.  It was too dangerous to go near to the cliff edge, where the tops of the waves fifty feet below were whipped off by the wind and dumped on the clifftop, and onto my struggling body! After  being nearly swept off my feet several times I had to admit defeat, but even returning to the relative safety of the sheltered cliff path was hazardous.

Back in the warmth of my car, I realized my face was crusted with salt, and my trousers soaked through. A thoroughly rewarding experience – but I felt later as if I’d gone 10 rounds in a boxing ring with Mohammed Ali.

The strong winds have tested our new cowls, and found an improvement – though when the wind is directly from the south, our southernmost chimney still admits rain.

The studio and new cloakroom, where Pete is working at the moment, are sheltered from these winds, and we’ve been in there for most of the week. Pete is finishing the skirting and architraves to the cloakroom and I have been working on Painting #5.


Having got that painting to a point of ‘doubt’ I must leave it for a while. On Friday I took delivery of my big canvas for the mentoring show – at 8ft x 4.5 it’s the biggest I’ve worked on as one painting – I’ve never had the room before. With each new canvas I feel like a beginner – each painting is an experiment, and I learn something new. But I would rather it was this way, than knowing exactly what and how I wanted to paint, and simply doing it.

After a miserably cold wet week, Friday was sunny for a while. I walked Bartinney, noting new fencing and huge tractor ruts that made walking a muddy and difficult experience in places. From Bartinney the sea is visible in all directions from Mounts Bay to Geevor. The south-westerly wind was bringing in cloud from the Atlantic, and the waves that lashed the Longships must have been huge because they were clearly visible. At midsummer I’d stayed there a while – but it was not a day for that.

A short while after I’d returned home the weather closed in once more and the gales and heavy rain began again. Just outside our garden under an Ash tree, a pigeon lay, newly dead, beautiful and still warm, but with it’s beak full of foam. I moved it to our garden. ‘Percy’ was buried today. Our children, who remember all our pets, seven of whom were buried with full honours in the garden of our last house, will think this is just the beginning!

At last! The first part of our central heating is installed, and we have a warm house! It feels wonderful to move from room to room and encounter warmth – especially when this week has been so unsettled, the cold winds of winter beginning to bite. Our plumber has still to fix radiators in the other half of the house, where Pete is working, and my studio is. But for the time being we’re grateful for the first stage – we certainly made the right decision at the right time, not knowing when we did, that the weather would turn so quickly!


Going West, Wks 41 – 48

Week 41

At the beginning of August we were ‘back to normal’. I had a heavy workload for the coming weeks, as I would be processing applications for residencies at the arts charity I work for.

I was also preparing for the charity Open Day, and AGM. Brisons Veor is a cottage at Cape Cornwall where artists can apply to stay for days, or weeks, to take a break for research or to make work, and sometimes for personal reasons. Before I worked for the Trust, I benefited  from residencies at Brisons, indeed that’s how I first got to know this area of Cornwall. So August will be a busy month for me.

Near the end of August Rebecca visited for her holiday, and we were lucky to have a few sunny days to be tourists with her.


St Michaels Mount  Marazion from St Michaels Mount

LongshipsBex  The Longships Lighthouse from Lands End

Boscawen-un The Stone Circle at Boscawen-un

Week 44 – Moving some of my stuff into the studio at last! There are still jobs to do, but I can’t wait any longer – I need to get on with my painting, now that the busy BV weekend is over. Pete is not happy about having to leave jobs undone, understandably, but is cheered up when son and grandchildren visit for a few days. More days of being a tourist! We explored the delights of Paradise Park – my favourite was the amazing Kookaburra, but I had a soft spot for this poser, who spotted my camera and held this pose for minutes!

What a poser!


Kookaburra refusing to release ‘snake’, she has no fear of them whatsoever!

Week 45

The weather has changed to persistent rain, and both chimneys are letting in water again – somewhere! It’s disappointing, after all the work that’s been done, and very dispiriting. On days like this, it feels as if we’ve made  little progress!

But I’m working in the studio – I have two weeks before the next mentoring weekend, and lots to do. I will be exhibiting work in Penzance this time, and really need to focus on finishing the sea wrack painting at least.

This week our Victorian postbox had a bit of a facelift, with a new information panel being fitted. Inside, to the repairer’s surprise, was a little rabbit –Miffi! When was she posted? Was she a present for the postman, or was a little girl heartbroken because she’d let her go, and couldn’t get her back? We’ll never know. The postman has never mentioned her, and we’d never have known, if the post box hadn’t needed a new panel. I’m sure she cheers the postman up on a wet day – dry and snug in her hole in our wall.

Miffi Little Miffi, looking after the post!

Week 47

It’s been a tricky couple of weeks, but the mentoring weekend was good and I’m beginning to feel a little more confident – it’s wonderful to be able to walk into my own studio again! I dismantled my studio last July, when we were preparing to move house, and I didn’t work for six months. I felt disconnected , and although I used the time productively, it didn’t make up for having that special space, and incentive, to think and make work.

ChapelHouse One of my Kelp prints in Chapel House Hotel,Penzance

We have decided to replace our central heating – we tried the easier option first of course: could our existing system carry more radiators? we asked. In principle, yes, but,  it turned out NO! So we’ll bite the bullet and renew the whole system. At least we will be warm this winter, and if we’re warm, we’ll function better. Last winter certainly wasn’t easy!

Week 48, and a week’s holiday back to Kent, to see family and friends briefly. I wanted to go to Dungeness which has always been a special place and couldn’t be more different from where we live now. From granite cliffs to shingle desert – sublime!


As I write now, it’s Week 49 –  the beginning of ‘heating installation fortnight’. Today our old boiler has been dismantled, and was indeed a sorry sight! We now have a shiny new boiler, and a large tank for hot water, and in a couple of weeks should be experiencing the cottage differently. That will be about the time of our first anniversary here (we moved in on 28th October last year) so we’ll have double the reason to celebrate.

Pete is working on the cloakroom (previously a shower room that was so wet that the wood of the partition wall was black and rotten!) Now it’s fit for use again, and ready to be painted. He has made a long list of jobs, but some depend on the weather being fine, and at the moment we’re going through another wet period – if only we could have a month of dry days!

I’ve taken so many photographs this summer, of the coves and moors, and gradually my ideas for new work are taking shape. I’m planning large paintings for the Mentoring Students’ Exhibition in November, and spent time today going through some of the photographs I took just a few days ago in Penzance, when the sun was shining.

I’m excited by the prospect of making a new big painting. It’s a challenge and it will be interesting to see how I negotiate the awkward dimensions I’ve chosen. No doubt there will be tears and tantrums at some stage – I always seem to run into a wall during the process, but that’s the most interesting stage, ‘when the magic happens’, as one of my tutors told me recently. While I wait for the stretcher to be made, I begin a smaller work based on some ideas I’ve been turning over in my mind in recent months. Roughed out, it looks very different from the work I have been making recently, and I’m curious to see how it will develop.

Going West Weeks 38-40

Nothing much to report on the home-project front as we’ve had our children and grandchildren staying, and have managed a few nice days out, interspersed with more rain!

Pete and our son and two grandchildren braved the sea and the sun at Sennen Cove on a glorious day which was quickly followed by days of drizzle. We managed another, somewhat chillier beach day a few days later at St Ives, where we celebrated Pete’s birthday.

Our daughter came a week later, and we had a fantastic trip to the Eden Project, near St Austell.

Bonkers Sculpture at the Eden Project                                     

Grandson and Grandad took a hair-raising trip: the things you do for children! 

On the last day of their visit we walked to the Men-a-Tol, hoping to carry on to Ding Dong Mine via the Nine Maidens standing stones, but owing to the amount of rain we’ve had, the footpaths had become small streams, and I managed to trip and twist my ankle on the wet grass. I’m now hobbling, yet again!


A new door!

During the past two weeks Pete has managed to put in the new door and window, and now he’s on to the tidying up, which I may be able to help with soon, once my ankle has returned to its normal shape, size and colour!




The garden has been pretty, although over-run with slugs, and we will have to re-think it for next year. More hardy exotics I think, and a special slug-proof area for delicate cottage garden plants. The Onions have done quite well, we’ve had peas, broad beans and runner beans, and the Squash are looking good. Today, gloriously sunny now that all the children have gone home, will be a day for tidying the garden and making good the damage done by days of downpour.