My Dream Home

In my dreams I have been long torn by the prospect of an old house, full of history and time, and the joy of a new eco house, custom built for me. Last night I became decided once and for all what I want because I found it. I lost my heart completely. I couldn't sleep last night for thinking of my new love. I read all I could on the internet as well....

It is a little on the expensive side at 2.75 million and it is rumoured that celebrities have been to view it. I feel quite strongly that it shouldn't go to such a person. I have a strong feeling that this house shouldn't belong to a Trust or be open to the public. It should be looked after by a follower of the Goddess.

It should have children and life and not be frozen as a museum or primped into a flash showpiece. I should be first and foremost a home - both for a family and for the spirit that inhabits this place. Maybe it could be used as a retreat. It needs to be safeguarded as a sacred place, not have it's power leached away by a parade of families with unhappy children held behind a rope and not allowed to touch. Stonehenge has not lost it's power but the rules in place there make it a shadow of what it could be...

I personally think the current owner feels this too. This is an excerpt from an article you can read in full here.

It's an incredibly feminine house," says Richard. "It has a good feeling. You could sleep on the floor, all on your own, and you'd be perfectly happy."

Those who have watched the film will recall the sweeping lawn between the front of the house and the lake, and the sloping beech woodland behind. "All the wildlife gets condensed in the valley. Every day we see deer, badgers and owls and at night, there is total darkness, just stars. We never experienced that in Sussex," says Richard.

He will miss the woodland the most: "The trees are enormous up there. But you're only ever a custodian of a house like this – you have to pass it on to someone else."

Nevertheless, he is determined to be choosy about who buys it – no property developers, for example. But there is a chance it could sell to a celebrity, given that several "high profile" people have viewed it already, according to Jonathan Cunliffe of Savills, who is handling the sale. "It doesn't surprise us. Every other house like this is owned by the National Trust," he says.

The site has been inhabited at least since Saxon times and it is believed that the current house is built on the site of an older house with part of an older building possibly being the kitchen. In 1564 a lady called Alice Reskymer left the hosue to the church and it became a rectory. A succession of religous folk from London bought architectural ideas to the house. In the early 1900s a retiring rector built a new rectory rather than leave his beloved home.

In recent years the history of the hous has been troubled. In 2002 the owners went bankrupt and the house was in disrepair. Things had become rather unpleasant all round as shown in this article. The new owners pumped in money and the external rennovations have been completed and inside is a blank slate, requiring more money and time.

The house is huge, far, far bigger than I would ever, ever really need.... Downstairs there is a drawing room, reception room, sitting room, dining room, family room, kitchen, boiler room and an octagonal music room. There is a courtyard and then a coach house with three bedrooms. Oak panelling abounds and the ceilings are impressive shapes. Upstairs there are eight bedrooms with the master suite including a bathroom, dressing room and morning room. The attic hasn't been included as bedrooms and includes a further five rooms.... Then there are outbuildings....

But it isn't the house itself that draws the most, despite it being an undisputed beauty, featured in the film Saving Grace where the lady of the manor fights to save it from the bank by growing cannabis. (very funny) Just outside the house there is a hexagonal walled garden and at the centre of it there is a well. It is hinted that the well might have had a previous religious importance but I would say that that is pretty undoubtable. To add to this there is an ancient turf labyrinth in the mature woods around which wrongdoers would crawl on their hands and knees in penance.

Go have a look at the house here. Once the house is off the market, this link will vanish....

The house is private and situated within mature woodlands. It has a front and rear drive, 38 acres including a five acre field. It has a mill pond and the river appears to run through from the map.

Maybe I can win the lottery tonight... A seven million jackpot would possibly enable me to buy it and restore it but I suspect I wouldn't be left with millions afterwards but I could do it, if I won... Short of me winning, pray that this place falls into the right hands, for Wetherham is a gem, unique.

Perfect Weather for Trolls

The days have changed, the circle is turning.

All of a sudden it is dark when I wake up. It isn't properly light until a little while after I have staggered out of bed.

The rain has come. After a glorious September, the weather has turned. It is still warm for the moment but there is rain and mizzle and mist. Mizzle is a Cornish word for the rain that is whipped apart by the wind and flies sideways. The roads are wet. The hill appears through the cloud occasionally.

We have had our thermostat set really low all Summer and Sunday I found the heating coming on. Time to reset it for winter. The heating is definitely on now. Temperatures are still at about 14 here but next week they are apparently going to drop below 10.

We are heading towards Samhain and Yule.

The dark is winning. I havn't even been able to see the full moon...

I am not feeling cold though. Something has changed. My metabolism seems to have sparked. I am normally the cold one, wrapped up in jumpers while others sit there with bare arms. It isn't a one off, otherwise I would think nothing of it, I am feeling warmer. I am not the cold one suddenly. I am noticing that I have to keep covered though, otherwise my joints get achy.

I have been losing weight. 8 and a half pounds since starting the new regime so i get to buy a troll bracelet now. Yay!

Trolls like dark and Winter which is why they are so common in Scandinavia. They also have no problem with the wet because many of them like to live under bridges. Very appropriate really....

Not sure I ever mentioned before but I am Troll royalty. The Troll Queen in fact...

It started when my niece and nephew were a lot younger. My niece came creeping along trying to startle me while I was in the bath. I called out 'fee fi fo fum, I smell the blood of an English gal!' She liked this a lot but got giant and troll a little mixed up and it all developed into a long running game. My Troll Boy and Troll Girl would go and find me special Troll food, dragons blood ice cream and the like. F got to be the Troll King when we met....

A Rant

Cornwall is a beautiful place. It has a rich and varied history that is different to the rest of the UK. Important events in Cornish history are largely unknown outside of Cornwall. To the UK it has always been a far outpost, rural and backward. They like to forget it's history and have long chosen to disregard the social identity, although this has changed to a large extent now.

When I moved here I was ignorant of the different culture and history of the area but I didn't move here with a no-it-all attitude. I came, I listened, I read and I learnt. I still continue to learn about Cornwall and I imagine I always will be. As such I didn't irritate the Cornish and most of them don't suss me out as being non-Cornish. I can feel those who have integrated and those who havn't when I meet them these days. There is a relaxed, easy going sort of an attitude to those that fit here, a sort of what will be will be. many people from up country just can not relax enough to fit here.

The landscape is a small landscape. There is a lack of room and it is full of little valleys and rivers and coves and villages. If you stand on the right hill or headland the landscape can be seen on a different scale, looking at the vistas and not seeing the things hidden below.

We only have one good dual carriageway road and even that isn't dual carriageway all the way. Many of our roads are only wide enough for one car, edged with plant covered granite edges, sharp bends and passing places. This is fine, the locals are laid back enough to just get on with it if they are on a road where they can't overtake the tractor that is going exactly the same way as them. It isn't that we don't get frustrated, we do, it is just life...

People buy second homes here and bump up the housing prices. They don't pay full council tax so don't contribute as much to the services down here, police, fire etc and then they fill their spare house with a stream of people some of whom will have paid a lot of money to be in here in the peak of the summer season. I know people who grew up in villages they will never be able to afford to live in, even though their family lived there as far back as the ark. Some places are so exclusive and so unlikely to have a single local person living there.

Then there are the tourists. They come and fill everywhere up. Drive very slowly. And go to tourist attractions. They pay lots of money to do so but a lot of the time they are disapointed by what they find. Up country there may be grand castles you couldn't explore in a day but down here things are on a smaller scale. It is a place to go and relax and explore. To have the best time you don't want to go anywhere much you have to pay to go, except parking fees. The best places are the beaches, exploring little fishing villages, exploring the landscape. Surely that is why Cornwall has a tourist industry in the first place?

So you have places like Padstow which is very exclusive and dominated by Rick Stein. You have St Ives where you can barely move in the summer and can purchase a wide variety of arts and crafts. You have Newquay where the chances of you seeing a sober person is considerably reduced. These places havn't been made this way by the locals. If you don't like a place you go to, then chances are a lot of the locals won't like it either....

So it really bugs me when people come down here and comment on Cornwall in vast sweeping terms. When they visit tourist places and complain that they are touristy. When they pay a meagre £3 to see something and expect the earth. When they call it claustrophobic and arrogant. arrogant? The cornish are not arrogant as a rule but many of the middle class non-local enclaves are very arrogant indeed.

So why am I so pissed off exactly? An old, old friend I havn't seen in years came to visit and we spent a few hours together. When they went home they commented on Cornwall and their holiday and I found it somewhat offensive....

For years they had wanted to visit Tintagel. A ruined castle on an isolated headland linked to Arthurian legend. We warned them that there were treacherous stairs down the cliff and then back up the other side to the castle. I said that I did not feel fit enough to go myself. We said they were brave going with a baby carrier. We gave them a leaflet on the place which certainly would also have explained the difficult access. They went anyway and then complained a lot about little they enjoyed it. One couldn't carry the baby because of issues with heights. They were too sweaty to relax once they made it there.... We did warn them, they just didn't want to hear and we didn't want to annoy them by being to forceful about it....

I guess what I have to remember is the friends I knew before I moved down here have made very different life choices to the ones I have made. They may travel the world, drive fast cars, have prestigious jobs and generallyhave a fair bit of cash. I may have chosen a less exciting looking path but I am content (mostly) with my lot. I love Cornwall. I love my friends down here. I may not have heaps of money but I have time to appreciate the beauty of the place I live. I have time to be connected....

If ever you visit me here, please, please don't insist on going to all the tourist traps. Take a quieter, softer, more relaxed route. Chances are we will both find some new and beautiful place to explore.

Celebrations and Jubilations

Yesterday was my birthday. It didn't begin as I had hoped. The alarm went off at seven because the boiler man was coming to find out why it keeps switching itself off and flashing little lights at us. I would much rather have had a lie in but hey...

It turned out to be a little corrosion on the sensor that tells it the pilot light has gone out.

After some pressies and some breakfast lovingly cooked by F, he forced me out the door and into the car. I knew he was taking me to a far away wood. It started to drizzle as we drove there. hmmm

We ate our food and then wondered over to the map. He asked me which trail I wanted to do and I chose the nice easy one the went a long one side of the river, over a bridge and back down the other side. It had easy next to it and I suspected it would be lovely and flat.

Cardinham Woods is situated in the Glynn Valley. A lovely valley that is just so beautiful. Full of little rivers carrying water away from Bodmin Moor. Steep sided valleys run into each other. Covered in trees. The woods are mostly pine because they are Forestry Commission plantations but there are some broad leaved areas here and there.

Little Dog met and socialised with a few dogs including a Collie that swiped her side for no reason leaving her with a cut. She danced in the rivers and ran backwards and forwards and was generally joyful. The only times she was bad with other dogs and even growled was when she got bitten and also when I went to stroke another dog who had jumped up at me. I think growling is a fairly minor communication really. I doubt the Collies owners even realised their dog had drawn blood.

We happily trundled along until we reached a point where another trail left our nice easy route. F pointed up the trail. And yes I do mean up. This trail snaked up the side of the valley, clinging precariously to the side of the hill. I went pale and said no. It soon became clear that F really wanted to do this and that i would feel bad if I didn't, even though I didn't want to climb hills...

I had to stop a lot. The Mistress of Pain had taught me a couple of stretches to help with problem parts of my legs. I had to stretch out my ankles most times I stopped. At the top I knelt down and leant back to stretch out some other muscles, somewhere in my legs that hurt. It helped a lot but not completely!

Once up the side of the hill, the path wound around the hills at a steady height with only minor slopes. Once I stopped glowering at F i actually enjoyed it. The only person we saw up there was a Ranger doing an annual check to ensure there were no dangerous fallen trees endangering the path. And he was driving.

Amongst the pines were other things. Many dung beetles. The occasional fungus. I could hear buzzards calling. And there were other trees, oak, beech and then, suddenly, a little cluster of Rowans. These are not trees I see very often, in fact I can not remember the last time I did. They are not common in the areas I have lived. I have often wanted a piece of this wood for different things while reading witchy things. It has always somehow seemed the last obtainable. When I thought about making a tree oracle, this was the one that was going to be hardest for me to find. It is one that is recommended for wands and stangs.

So I see a little cluster of the trees and I say to F that I want some of their wood. Neither of us willing to chance the steep slope to get to them. We continued on. And there, at a fork in the path was a cluster of them, within reach. I begin looking. It was pretty hopeless. I told F that I wasn't willing to take living wood from the tree itself but the temptation was of course huge - to break one little twig. F got bored and carried on. I spotted a cluster of berries that had fallen and was caught in a branch. I took this as a gift, even though it wasn't what I wanted. Preparing to give up, I turned to move on.

And then I saw it. It was not a twig. It was probably a little tree, or maybe a branch of a larger tree. It had somehow been broken off and a couple of the twigs had started rotting. At it's base, a section the length of a think wand dangled. I broke the thick length at the bottom off to use as a wand but I didn't want to just leave the branch. I called F and he helped me strip the the twigs. I was bemused to find that I was left with something looking very much like a forked staff. I discovered that for all it's lack of thickness and the gently bowed nature of the branch, it made a very, very good walking stick. I gave silent thanks for this gift and moved on.

We descended the hill back to the easy trail and saw many beautiful spots. It seemed that most dog walkers took the opportunity to cross the first bridge and loop back so this far section of the easy trail was deserted. We found a little path that led down to the river and here I took off my socks and boots and dangled my poor sore feet in....

We continued on, past a beautiful old fashioned granite bridge. Past cottages. Past all sorts...

My exclamation halted F. I was a bit surprised that he thought such an eclamation might relate to the siting of another dung beetle. I had seen something on the path and I knew what it was. I had never ever seen one before and this was a very special moment. We have three 'snakes' in this country. The Adder is poisonous and has a distinctive V, I once had an encounter with one and it was beautiful. Then the Grass Snake and Smooth Snake. This looked like a snake but I knew it wasn't, it was a legless lizard, a Slow Worm.

It was a beautiful copper colour and it glistened. Reading about them online, it would have been a female that we saw. We took many photos. We watched as it decided we were not a threat and moved across the road to the verge where it nimbly moved through the moss and stones. It was lovely. A real priviledge.

We returned to the car and I squeezed my new stang in before collapsing in a tired aching heap. I dreamt of nice hot baths all the way home and couldn't wait to use some Lush treat I had purchased the week before. Little Dog actually lay down all the way home.

So we pull up and F announces I have an hour and a half and then we are off out.... I had my bath and it was lovely and then we bustled out of the house.

He took me to Carn Brea Castle. I posted about the hill this castle sits on here. I have wanted to go there ever since I moved to Cornwall. It was originally built as a medieval chapel, possibly to St Michael but was later rebuilt by the Bassett family as a hunting lodge. It isn't considered to be a proper castle because it is built on top of rocks and is classified as a folly. I think most importantly in terms of last night, it is now a restaurant. A tiny restaurant but a lovely one.

We ate Jordanian food that wouldn't fit into our diet plan and later the owner played his drum. It was a lovely intimate evening. Lit by candle light in a tiny, relatively bare room with rock walls, we were snug and happy and well fed. Afterwards we walked up to the monument in the dark....

A beautiful day. all thanks to my lovely F.

Explorations

I know I am not blogging much. It is a flurry of activity here at the moment with much jewellery making. We have been out a few times as well...

Black Cliffs - This is part of the long beach of Gwithian Bay. Black Cliffs is the part close to the estuary mouth which faces out to sea. It was a beautiful day and with most people at work and few tourists around, the few people about were separated by huge areas of sand. The sky was blue and so was the sea. A gentle frothy white surf and a warm breeze.... I really do mean huge expanses of sand as well. It was around about low tide and the sand went on forever. The beach is so long that at low tide there are acres and acres of sand. You could clearly see the sand bars around the mouth.

We walked out to the sea and along then back into the cliffs and back. The sea was beautiful, the sand unmarked. The cliffs were interesting with water seeping through and interesting rock structures on view. There were faults and folding a plenty, along with an arch, pools lying beneath the cliff in the sand and raised beach platforms (the old rock cut base of beaches from times when sea level was higher.)

Restormel Castle - We took a little trip to this castle. Cornwall doesn't have the grand huge castles you find elsewhere up country. Instead we have little castles that were all about defence and not much about grandeur. Hill forts are one of the most common archaelogical remnant down here. People needed to see what was coming, from the sea and the land.

The castle is a ruin on top of a hill. It is circular with a circular courtyard in the middle. There were two bits that stuck out of the circle - the chapel and the gatehouse. The green moat is still there and you can still walk the battlements. All the floors have gone in the higher rooms but you can see where they were. The castle has a well in the middle but unfortunately they decided to widen the access to it and used it as a latrine as well.

The views were good from the battlements and it was very pretty.

St Erth Pits - Most of the nature reserves I have visited in Cornwall have been stunning. This one wasn't. It was a small overgrown wood with some evidence of nefarious goings on, probably at night and not during the day as there was no one around at all, despite the many child sized tracks going off into difficult to reach places. It felt as if the brambles, honeysuckle and ivy were strangling the life out of much of it. We were not overly enamoured.... The landscape was pocked and it had obviously been well worked at a past time but you couldn't see much of it or get to it. You could see the remains of a tramway in one place.

Reading about it now I guess it makes a little more sense. The pits were used for quarrying sand and clay used for mouldings. It was used by Harvey's Foundry in nearby Hayle and taken by rail all over the country. Apparently these beds are the most diverse yet described in the world with over 350 different ostracod fossils recorded as well as a huge array of other animals and plants. Why would they want this geological wonder open to plundering?

It was worked until 1950 so the woods are young and still establishing themselves in places. The brambles and honeysuckle will eventually be smothered by trees, except where one has fallen and light comes in.

I guess this one nature reserve they don't want to become too well known. To be honest you get that feeling about a lot of the nature reserves in Cornwall. They are places protected and not highly advertised. Known to locals and people who are interested enough to search online or look at maps, they are safe. Kennal Vale with is treacherous paths would cause the Trust to be sued if it became famous and the wrong person was hurt. St Erth Pits would be at risk to plundering by collectors if they opened it up. All these treasures are there if you want to go find them, but they are not going to shout out loud for your visit.... Not like the dramatic coast or the tourist attractions of the county.

Proper Job Pictures

The delectable F has decided to start posting his photos on his very own blog. Now he has the posh camera he takes hundreds everywhere we go.... So the ones he posts are the best of the bunch. If you want to see more of my Cornwall then go have a look!

Treasure Map

I like looking at maps. Sometimes you find out really interesting things about the places around you. Sometimes you find cool places to go.

Today was one of those days when we went to a new and good place because I spent some time looking at the map.

There is a bay called Gwithian Bay which stretches from Godrevy Ligthouse at one end to St Ives Island at the other. The villages of Gwithian and Lelant as well as the towns of Hayle, Carbis Bay and St Ives sit along it's length. In the middle is the mouth of the Hayle Estuary. If you could stand at the mouth you would look along cliffs to Carbis Bay and St Ives and along sand dunes past Hayle to Gwithian and the headland of Godrevy.

Hayle is an unusual town. I admit I didn't think much of it when I first went there. A long road stretches parallel to the dunes along one branch of the river from Copperhouse to Foundry. This road isn't the most exciting but it is the part everyone sees. Copperhouse and Foundry were iron founderies and their social effect on Hayle was huge. People worked for one or the other and they lived at the appropriate end. Huge rivalries developed between the two groups.

The industry had a very marked affect on the geography of the town as well and there is a good map here. The river flows past Copperhouse parallel to the dunes to Foundry and then it turns towards the sea and out. A number of quays are found at the Foundry end and one of them leads into the Copperhouse Canal which allowed ships to make it to Copperhouse.

Parrallel to the dunes you have first the old railway (no longer running) then the river then the canal and finally the road with all the houses of Hayle beyond. There are three large pools, Copperhouse Pool between Copperhouse and Foundry, a lovely duckpond inland from Foundry and Carnsew Pool the other side of the Foundry from Hayle.

Carnsew Pool is separated from the quays by New Pier. New Pier extends nearly all the way into the mouth of the estuary and separates the river that flows through Hayle from a second river that exits here. The pier also has a second leg that goes all the way round Carnsew Pool.

We walked from Foundry along past one of the many Quays and onto new Pier today. This took us past Carnsew Pool which tumbled over a waterfall and under a bridge in the pier. I expect at high tide the water flows the other way. I loved this. The water was clear and you could see all the stones of the fall. The bridge was all blocky and old fashioned with the many of the stones of the arch protruding outwards. From here the view across the pool to the far arm of the pier was fantastic.

We walked along the pier to the end where we sat on a bench. We were only a couple of hundred yards from the beaches on either side here and we could hear the conversations of others but we were separate and alone. Those to our left basked on a beach backed by dunes and those to our left walked dogs on a beach backed by cliffs and rivers flowed out to sea on both sides, glittering in the sun.

The pier is like much of the quays - faded industrial glory. Much of the buildings here are gone leaving that strange post industrial landscape. Gravel and hardcore compete with gorse and scrub. The pier has been built using all sorts of waste and more has probably been dumped over the years. Bricks, glass, bits of quartz.

Much of the quays are derelict as well, bits of wall demolished stones missing here and there. Anyone thinking this is a sadly declined fishing harbour is wrong, fishing was not the cause of this harbours complexities but it is now the only benefactor. Piles of lobster cages lie on the quay here and there.

F took lots of pictures but i don't have any to post right now, but I shall. I would also like to show you more of this bay because I like it very much and it would be good for me to explore more of it....

Things

So many things seem to be happening right now. So many things seem to be about to start. So very much a time of change.

The weather has suddenly decided to go all summery. Beautiful clear skies. Air so fresh it tastes sweet. A beautiful gentle warmth cooled by sea breezes. Lovely. And I like it even more because it isn't Summer. There is a slight nip to the air at times that lets you know this Autumn. The night is lasting longer and longer. This is September at it's best.

The last few days I have been stuck in work of a day and to busy of an evening to make it to the beach. So I promised Little Dog we would go first thing today. And we did. 8 am found us stepping onto Perranporth Beach with a fairly low tide giving huge expanses of golden fluffy sand. And I do really mean fluffy because the beach cleaning tractor was there sifting sand for trash and laying it back like a fluffy powdery stuff.

Little Dog was pretty good and I got a better balance today between her desire to chase after the ball and her need to not run herself ragged. As we left the beach it was just beginning to get warm enough to make running risky for her. She cooled off in the stream before we headed back to the car.

A good start to the day. I then spoke to my Mum and discovered she is also trying to lose weight right now for her diabetes. She has decided to give herself a treat with every half stone. She is going to buy a troll bracelet with her first milestone and a troll bead or charm for it every one after that. We are going to do this together now because it is such a lovely idea. By the time I am thin I should have a beautiful collection of beads that I would have trouble justifying normally.

The diet is going OK. I have planned the meals for the rest of this week now which seemed to take ages. It doesn't feel easy yet. Last nights tea was a glitch though.... Now I just have to make myself cook it all and stick to it. I need to make myself go out shopping really... I left lunch to late and let myself get hungry. This is something I do and then I go and get all the wrong foods....

The new TV has arrived but I can not unpack it until F gets back. It is our first real big purchase of something new together and as such we will enjoy it's first moments together. I would love to be able to watch it tonight though... Oh well....

Work has gone a little odd in some ways but in others it is fine.

Jewellery making is now progressing at a snail's pace. I am making a bracelet for my Aunt (thankfully she has tiny wrists) using tiny delica beads sewn into tiny squares and then sewn together. The way it sits is a bit like an egg box sort of a shape. F's Mum's necklace has ground to a halt because I ran out of beads. My sister's earrings have swelled in number to three sets but I got bored of earrings and stopped for a bit. My Mum's bracelet is done. This just leaves my Neice, who isn't turning gothy after all. Of course this is only the first round - they all need birthday and Christmas presents....

On other crafting - I need to do some silk painting and some sewing (eek) and some how neither seem to be getting started. It is just a question of making myself get started really... *sigh*

Some major decluttering has been accomplished while I was safely out of the way at work. F has removed a wardrobe and now I can actually see all of the width of the window from the bed. The room seems so much brighter suddenly!

I think I am putting off going shopping....

In The Garden

The garden has a small museum which I didn't stay to look at for long. I have looked around before and the only thing I stopped to really look at were the quotes written above the displays. It seems Barbara loved Cornwall for it's pagan landscape and St Ives for the sense of community it gave her with other artists.

Upstairs some of her smaller creations are on display along with a glass jug and a huge quartz crystal which look in need of a good scrub. And then outside!
The garden isn't that big and is in the middle of a busy town but for the most part it is quiet inside. People are driven to talk in hushed tones. There is a meditative feel to it. A small green oasis...
The garden itself is lush and green but then being blessed with Cornwall's warmth and rain and St Ives sheltered position, this isn't surprising. A path snakes all the way round the outside of the garden and a tiny network of two or three paths snakes across the middle. Along one long side is a high wall against which sits her workshops and a conservatory. Where this wall meets the bottom of the garden is her house which was not particularly big. The bottom of the garden is also walled with a seating area that acts as suntrap and a little summer house containing a bed. The other walls are lower and topped with vegetation.

So it really, really isn't very big!
And everywhere, of course, there are sculptures. Some bronze. Some stone. Some sit huge within the garden and can be seen from several points. Others nestle in a corner or an alcove and you suddenly find yourself there, on top of them, as they appear from nowhere.

They don't compete with the plants. They all sit there together in harmony. The sculptures don't even compete with each other. And they certainly don't just look good from one angle...

Her complex geometrical shapes appeal to me. They are not sharp and angular in the main, they are fantastically curved. The garden has a lovely deep energy to it. It feels feminine. It feels healing. It is very calm and grounding. I can imagine though, that Barbara bought the garden alive when she was in it. I suspect the energy of the garden changed with her moods.

I lingered in several spots, soaking it all up....
I learnt that although she died in a fire, caused by a cigarette she dropped when she fell asleep after drinking a little whiskey, that it wasn't the fire that killed her but the fumes from the plastics she she worked with to coat some of her works. The dirty jug and crystal have never been cleaned from the fire. The calendar still sits on the date that she died. Her clothes sit on the back of the big door in her workshop. Unfinished works sit around, in progress. Fresh lumps of granite lie, awaiting her touch. It as if she might return any moment, as if she had just gone for a snooze. The careful work of conservationists keeps it just so, stuck in a bubble of time.

Getting to the Garden

Lack of TV and reading this week due to TAW (The Artists Way) drove me to doing a proper, longer Artist's Date this week! But it had a rocky start...

We have officially become a one car couple this week, even though in reality we have been for a few weeks. I told F that I wanted to get up early and get into St Ives so I could park at the bottom of the hill and go buy some beads. He didn't react overly well because he had planned an entire day of things he wished to do with my car. I agreed to drop him off with the things he wanted to deliver before going on my merry way and then when i returned we would go and look at garage forecourts (*yawn*). I later admitted that I had planned to go to the Barbara Hepworth garden as well. By this time he had calmed down because he was still going to get to do everything he wanted to.

I gave in too easily. He made very little effort to be ready and have the car loaded for 9.30 (typical laid back Cornish Man). I may not have been ready either but I had less to do than him. When I was ready, he still wasn't. I dropped him in town to drop one thing off, parked and waited for him to come and get the other things. Then I drove to the shop got some cash bought him coffee, milk and sugar so I had some change and then returned to await him in the car.

By the time I got to St Ives it had gone 11. The tourists had roused themselves and along with all the day trippers they had filled the lower car parks. I managed to park in one only part way up the hill. By this time I was very, very grumpy with him. I had been up for hours and could have been in and parked in a prime spot at 9. i could have been home for him in time for him to still do everything he wanted but no, his immediate thought had been to prioritise his things and mine had been to accept. I must learn to take a step back at times like this so i can see the situation clearly....

St Ives was still busy but not so bad you had to fight for your space to walk in the road. St Ives is an old fishing town that was adopted by artists. It has several beaches and a harbour and the hills rise steeply behind the sea front. Building into the hill has meant that it has tiny streets, higgedly piggedly houses all on top of each other and tiny little alleyways. It is full of gift shops, craft shops and art shops.

I spent quite a bit of time drifting in and out of the craft shops. I love them for their inspiration. I bought a beautiful card with a picture of the tree of life which shall sit by my altar. I bought some soap and bath treats. I bought some beads but not the glue I needed but discovered that in the summer the factory shop opens in the Summer on a Saturday, yay! I bought a baguette and some elderflower presse.

Eventually I headed to the garden by a somewhat roundabout route which requied me to have a nice chat with an artisan as a result of requiring pointing back the way I had come... The garden was much as I remembered....

The Ants That Crawl

This is a very quick post!

My home is currently being ravaged by tourists. Last night it was hot and we wanted to take Little Dog to the beach. Most of our beaches are no go places for dogs between Easter and the end of September though. One lovely beach that is open to dogs is Perranporth and at low tide there is a gorgeous expanse of sand but at high tide the water comes right up the mouth in the cliffs towards the town and cuts off the town from the bay but even in the bay, the waves lap at the edge of the land.

Last night, high tide was at 10ish but I knew by the time we got there the beach would be shrinking, cramming all the tourists into an ever smaller area. All the dog walkers would be there, trapped. It would be horrid.... If you happen to own a very quick and inquisitive Little Dog. Too many people...

We went up onto the cliffs to eat fish and chips and there were people parked up with motor homes, setting out tables and deckchairs - in for the night. Every five minutes an intrepid band of walkers would appear, or another car. And this is one of many little car parks along a line of cliffs with no (safe and easy) access to the beaches below, no facilities, nothing, just a view. In the winter, you will find only locals here, catching a bit of air, and not to many of them....

So we went up big hill and even there, away from the coast where the tourists don't think to go, there were more cars than normal. Probably all the locals driven from the coast in search of some space. There was more than enough room up there for all of us though and it was beautiful and we had just a good a view of the sunset, if not better.

I know complaining about tourists might seem mean and selfish as they bring so much down here but the fact is this huge county is mostly empty when the tourists arn't here. Only 527,000 human souls live here but in the summer holidays, for a few short weeks our population soars. Other times of the year, there are tourists but not so many. To be honest, my problem is more one of claustrophobia - we just arn't used to it....

Give it a few short weeks and the land will start emptying out again though as they go back home to start school and college, assuming the best of the weather is over, but let's hope there is a nice bit so we can go enjoy the beach with Little Dog without blocking someone's sun or falling over their wind break.

I am so glad they don't think to leave the coast behind mostly. Imagine if there was nowhere to go that was serene? Maybe you city folk could handle that but I know I couldn't....

Mines of Memory

Some years ago I needed to explore a mine. I had the permission of the landowner, in fact their head honcho wanted to take the opportunity to come with us. I had access to a selection of experienced geologists and I asked one who was into mine rescue and a Masters level student if they fancied it.

Off we went.

Some things about that little trip are fuzzy and others seem so clear. I found a load of photos from that trip today. They were taken in the days before I had a digital camera so there are only a few from in the mine and to be honest they arn't that great. I look at most of them and they just don't really fit with my memories....

Near the entrance to the mine there was a huge cavern carved into the cliff, supported by pillars and full of beautiful green water. You got the feeling that if you could explore, a tunnel would lead from the back of the cavern.

An adit lead away from above the cavern. An adit is a horizontal (ish) tunnel which drains water from all the levels above it. Cornwall is full of them. The biggest is the longest man made water carrying tunnel known as the Great County Adit and from 38 miles of tunnel it drained 40 mines of 13 million gallons of water every day. And this was built in the 1700s. In 1876 it suffered due to a bad winter an neglect, water burst through carrying debris with it and this caused silting up of the Carnon River and as a result Devoran fell beyond the navigable reaches of the river and it's quays died.

This adit is no Great County Adit, it lead mostly straight and true into the cliff. I remember every so often you would come across what looked like a puddle with a plank across it. Walking carefully across the plank it would become obvious you were walking across a shaft. The light from my helmet showed me the view as I looked down. And what a view. The water was crystal clear and it just went down and down and down.

You couldn't stay and look because the realization kind of hits that you are stood wearing a huge amount of heavy kit above a deep shaft full of very cold water and the plank you are on has been there a very, very long time.... But that image looking down has stayed with me and it is also tinged with a few nerves.

We didn't explore much of the mine. We were being safe and cautious rather than brave and fool hardy. The main adit ended in a rock fall and although we could have squeezed through.... A narrow tunnel went off to the right and led into a chamber and I can't remember why but we didn't follow the tunnel out to far either.

The one photo I have of the pool of water above the shaft doesn't do it justice an doesn't match my memory either. Maybe there was more than one shaft. The one I remember didn't have the huge gaping opening of the one in the picture. It had a square opening and it just went down. I think I like my memory better. I almost wish I hadn't found the pictures....
I am grateful for these memories... There are tourist mines in Cornwall in various places. Some are twee, for instance one where you ride a train through a tiny bit of tunnel.... Others are better. The best I went on was rather different. It was a safety check. Not your normal check, but on to make sure we wern't claustrophobic or scared of the dark and we would be safe to let loose in a mine.

I have no photos from that trip. At one point we went into a chamber, the whole group, and we all switched our head lamps off. The dark was incredible. I have never experienced dark like that. There was no glimmer of light or reflection. There was no adjustment of the eyes. It was just black....

To get out of the mine we had to go out the emergency exit and this was the claustrophobia test. Now some of the group were very fit and went off on ahead of me. One person was terrified and was going to be talked up by someone else. I wasn't scared, but I was unfit so I went inbetween the two groups.

The exit was a shaft with several ladders. At the top of each ladder you stepped onto a ledge and moved around the bottom of the next ladder and began climbing again. I can't remember how many ladders there were but there was a few. The thing was the ledges were tiny. The shaft was a tight fit, My legs were too long to climb the ladder properly. I had to have my knees to the side of the ladder to fit.

Now what I had no idea of was the fact I had managed to pick a defective battery pack and lamp. I soon found the fit people had long gone and the scared person was far below. And it went out. I hit it a few times and it flickered a little but it wasn't having it. I climbed most of the emergency exit alone and in the dark.... And that was fine.

Not all mines are like that, even in Cornwall. One I went down was all on a level. You walked in and the tunnels were broad and didn't scrape the top of your head. You could almost drive a car through. A mini definitely would have fit. In some places huge caverns had been excavated.

Cornwall is full of mines but so many are capped off or locked. I guess what I liked best was the feeling that I got to go places most people didn't.

Mood of The Day

The young man who decided to go swimming with three friends last night will never go back home again. He and two others were jumping off the rocks, two made it to shore while he was dragged away. By the time F and I reached Godrevy his body would have already have lost it's driving force and who knows where his soul might have been. I hope he has or will manage to pass over soon to wherever spirits go.

I started the day sad and tired but my mood has improved throughout the day. It was fantastically improved by a lovely little package from Canada. Mel sent me the wrecked remains of my get a friend to destroy this page, page which has been magically transformed into a woven coaster! Oh I laughed so much when I saw it! There was also a lovely pressed flower, for my pressed page (no idea what sort). Savannah had also included some lovelies, several beautiful drawings and some paper dolls! I also received a page of Mel's journal to wreck *evil grin*

I have been experimenting with Tamarind and as soon as I opened my jar I recognised the smell. I know I have eaten this many times and it seems to be the 'missing' ingredient from many chinese dishes I have thrown together. I did some chinese ribs and a stir fry tonight both using tamarind paste and they were lovely... I also used honey, soy, chinese five spice, black and red pepper and ginger....

I also found a block of tamarind so I think I can have a go at Gemel's lovely suggestion now too... Sam also has offered Tamarind suggestions, which I shall gladly try.... My favourite so far by quite a bit!

Bits of creative things are proceeding slowly in the background... and I do mean slowly! I feel behind on things at the moment. I was going to do an earth healing last night but events got in the way and tonight catching up and cooking has held sway. I know I am putting it off. I know my lack of success with ceremonies and my feelings of inadequacy in all things magical are getting in the way. I know I just need to get on with it... Because when it comes down to it, I want to do it and I believe in it.....

Today is wishcasting wednesday but I am not sure what the wish is for today except that I wish for the young man who passed away to be at peace and I wish for the world and it's healing. For myself I wish a piece of this green land for my own to nurture and love....

Update and the RNLI

It seems a group of local men went swimming and one didn't make it back to shore. They tried to find him but couldn't. The search was called off at dark and they planned to resume it today. The theory is that he may be trapped in a cave, unaccessible when the tide is high as it was last night.

I found a tweet last night saying that 3 men got into trouble and two were rescued and one remained missing. When I went to bed, this was all I knew and I started thinking about the tides and where they were looking. The tide was coming in and near high. The winds were onshore. Anything lost would be bought back into the bay and bought over to the headland where people were watching. The bay had been thoroughly searched. I don't think anyone on those cliffs was expecting to find someone alive, I think they were waiting for a body to be washed ashore. I had quite a bit of trouble sleeping last night.

I guess it brings home the importance of the RNLI here in Cornwall. We depend on their services to rescue those who fall into trouble off our coast, be it people who take ill on boats or swimmers who get into trouble. I guess a lot of the time, the people who use the service most are those passing through, who might not think of contributing to this charity. The RNLI is never far from peoples thoughts here.

In pubs you often find RNLI lifeboat collection tins on the bar, particularly where the pub is near a harbour and used by locals that include fishermen. When I went to Porthgwarra the other morning, I discovered a private slip way with boats on it. At the top of the slipway was a pillar for collecting money for the RNLI. I am glad I contributed. I think the RNLI will feature in my monthly charity efforts at some point.

Here are some pictures of these fine folk in action...
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Two boats between the rocks and the island and lifeguards scouring the rocks.


Cliff watchers


The two boats in the path of the sun.


Oh for those of you not in the UK, the RNLI is the Royal National Lifeboat Institute.

Oh and these photos arn't mine - F wouldn't let me anywhere near the new camera...

Lost at Sea

F and I often go to Godrevy with chips and the dog to to enjoy the scenery and a meander on the headland. The view across the bay to St Ives is fantastic. Surfers play in the waves and dolphins are often seen in the bay.

Many is the time that I have been there and wished I had some binoculars or a decent camera with a telescopic lens to take nice piccies of the lighthouse. Last week F found a pair of binoculars for me at a carboot and won a bid on ebay for a lovely new camera. So tonight seemed the perfect night to try them both out and eat some chips as well.

We got there and saw the helicopter over head as we turned in, not uncommon. As we got to the first car park we found a National Trust staff member stopping people from driving up to the car park on the headland because a rescue was in progress. We obviously hopped it was a practice and ate our chips in the first car park.

While eating two RNLI personnel in boiler suits walked past us and then a surf rescue van went past heading up the headland. We began to realise that it probably wasn't a practice. Then we saw a second helicopter, and later the first one (maybe) again.

We headed along the coast path onto the headland and with our new found distance viewing capabilities it was easy to see that a huge operation was in progress. Personnel were stationed along the cliffs. Loads of lifeguards were on the rocks towards the lighthouse. A large lifeboat and a smaller one were moving around, searching.

By this time cars were being allowed to the second car park, not a particularly good sign as lifeguards were continuing to arrive. F moved the car to the second car park.

I kept looking out to sea, keenly aware that someone was missing. Scanning the waves with my binoculars. And then I saw something. A bobbing object near a marker flag, strangely upright in the water. I approached a policeman and found it again. He used my binoculars to search for it, saying if it was anything, chances are he would be able to tell. As he spotted it, a van with three lifeguards came by and he stopped them and they looked as well.

No one was sure so they sent the lifeboat over. It turned out to be an unusually large lot of fishing gear. The policeman made sure to say that he was glad we had spotted it and said something, because it could have been something. It was just a shame that it wasn't.

I felt somewhat upset and down and we left shortly after because there was no reason to stay and Little Dog did need a run...

I am none the wiser as to what was actually going on. Nothing online, yet. Nothing on the local news, yet. I expect they don't want people flooding up there. The currents are fierce around that headland. Rip tides sweep out to sea from the sands of the bay. I shall find out through the grapevine. Both F and I know lifeguards and the call obviously went out to them.

I never expected to be using my new present for something like that.... Time for chamomile tea and winding down....

Porthgwarra

Down the steep slipway to the sandy cove. You can see the sun still isn't very high...
Carved tunnel. The tunnel to the rocky cove is in the rocks on the right...


Rocky cove


Explorer hound in rocky coveThe caves at the top

Land's End

The soul-less tourist attraction that is...


A new day is dawning from Land's End looking north to Cape Cornwall


Sunrise...


The sun has risen!


Where the Land's End signpost should be...


Offshore rocks - you can just see Longships lighthouse on the rocks to the right.
Old lichen covered menhir with deserted stone circle.


The tourist stones complete with model houses... *sigh*


The soul of those stones is still there though, if you catch them from the right angle...

Adventures at Dawn

Last night I went to bed saying to myself, if I wake up then I know I should go, if I don't then I wasn't... Where you may ask? Land's End of course! Will of Pedal Power Adventures was setting off on the a little jaunt from Land's End to John o'Groats. These are the two points the furthest apart in the British mainland.

So I woke up and tried to ignore the fact I had and went back to sleep. Probably only a few minutes later I woke up again with a little voice in my head saying that I was meant to go. So I got up (3.20!), showered and dressed and left the house at 4.00. It took 40 minutes for me to get to Land's End.

Now Land's End has long been given a very special place in the heart's of the public. With it's iconic signpost showing distances to places all over the world. Steeped in legend and history with archaeological sites and a dramatic coastline prone to wrecking ships it should be amazing.

Last time I went to Land's End I paid the exorbitant parking fee and wandered through the dire tourist mill buildings to the coast. Any connection to the place was lost in the crowds and the unsymmpathetic development. Tacky is a word many use....

I had been planning recently to go and treat as a tacky place with S and F and pay all the different fees to the different exhibitions so as not go get to sad about the way the place has been treated. I hadn't gotten round to it. They charge for parking but as there is a public footpath they can not close the gates and you just have to wander through the deserted money mill. They even charge for photographs at the signpost. They take away the top of the post to prevent theft over night and removed the second post that you could use for free.... So i got photos of the post but no signs...

So dawn. When exactly is dawn? According to this handy website, it was at 4.50 this morning. So I was there. Except it had been getting light for a while. It seems twilight began at 4.03. Apparently this is when the sun is 6 degrees below the horizon and is the limit for distinguishing objects. There is also nautical twilight with the sun at 12 degrees below the horizon when outlines can be distinguished and astronomical twilight with the sun at 18 degrees and at this point the illumination of the sun starts to affect the sky. Nautical twilight was at 2.52 and the sun never made it below 18 degrees, too close to Solstice.

So all in all, Will could have set off earlier and been able to find his way. He might not have known to make his way through the ghost town to the coast. He might have arrived when I was exploring the area around the most westerly point and not seen me with Little Dog in the distance.

I stayed for quite some time and it was magical. The ticket machine wasn't working either which was great. I could finally feel some attraction to the place, a connection. The sun slowly lit up more and more of the sky, until when I left it was relatively high and breaking through the clouds. It was lovely and clear and I managed to spot both lighthouses, Longships is easy to spot being only 1.25 miles from Land's End but Wolf Rock Lighthouse is 8 miles from the coast and harder to spot.

I didn't see anyone till about 6 and then I saw some hotel guests waiting for reception so they could book in and go to sleep. I saw a man with a dog and a couple wandering aimlessly. It was time to leave the point itself.

I wandered along the path to the attractions petting farm and discovered a standing stone, covered in lichen, with a small stone circle around it. Almost overgrown it was pretty much ignored... Thankfully. Returning to the car I realised I had missed another one earlier to the side of the buildings. It was all spruced up and used as the setting for some tasteful model houses. Personally I find that a bit wrong...

Giving up on meeting Will and deciding to leave before it got any busier I left, dragging Little Dog with me. I took the first tiny little lane I found to a lovely cove called Porthgwarra. Houses nestle at the bottom of a valley from which a steep slip way leads to a tiny sandy cove edged with blocky granite. Looking back up I suddenly realised that the headland actually had two tunnels one of which led to the next cove which was rocky. I decided to lose a page of my wreck this journal to the waves here....

Next was a stop at St Levan but I hadn't looked up how to find the well exactly or what the other interesting things might be there... So I missed the ancient pagan rock, split in two. I did spot a nice celtic cross or two and a lovely entranceay to the graveyard. Strips of granite had been spread to make a cattle grate with granite benches at each side of the grate facing across it. In between the two seats, dividing it in two, was a coffin shaped stone.

Next I drove down the valley of Penberth but didn't stop at the car park (mostly because I didn't find it, I don't think I drove far enough...) and then to the car park at Treen and then Lamorna Cove, both of which I stopped at briefly...

Sunset at Godrevy

St Ewe

From the square to the entrance to the churchyard with the old post office on the right.

The square with the remains of an ancient cross, The base is also ancient and aligned with the compass directions, not the village.

One way out...

The other way out with the 16th Century pub on the left and the town lock up on the right.



The church with palms....


Place of ancestors. Where all but those too bad to be given an honourable burial now lie...

A special place. Looking along the boardwalk towards the graveyard....

Not the best photos perhaps but they are special...