Wednesday, 1 October 2014

A Quiet Life

Snap was lifted out for the winter yesterday, so a quick goodbye to sailing on her for this year....

I decided to have a quiet weekend. Al and I had a marvellous sail on Wednesday but it was quite blowy, and the following day my scar hurt like blazes which frightened and frustrated me. I was told I’d just overdone things: not to worry, but i did feel very wobbly for a bit. Since then, the scar has settled down a bit which is a great relief.

But all that crying exhausted me, so I thought I’ll have a few days to myself. So I cancelled lunch with a friend on Saturday, knowing I was singing at a gig that night, and settled down to enjoy a bit of R&R. Good book, sun shining, walks with Moll, time to myself.

At midday a friend who lives upstairs turned up in tears. I won’t go into details but she’s had some really bad news. I gave her a cuddle, dispensed man size hankies and listened. Later, as she clearly needed a change of scene, I suggested she came down to Mylor, so we went down to bail out Echo and take Moll for a walk.

I got back, had an hour or so lie down then went out to the gig. Which was great. Exhausting but great fun.

Sunday I was in Lidls when my phone rang. The above friend’s partner was really worried because she was in agony and did I know a doctor he could ring? I advised to ring the out of hours service at the surgery and said I’d be back ASAP.

I legged it back and upstairs to find the poor thing writhing in agony on the bed. The out of hours people rang back and I said could they get someone to come here as she was in so much pain. He said yes but not for 6 hours. If we could get to Helston she could be seen in half an hour.

As they don’t drive, I said OK, and we legged it down to Helston. Joe was sitting, bend double on a chair in the back of the van with Moll. (My van doesnt have seating in the back) while M, his partner, sat in a lot of pain in the passenger seat, a bowl at her feet for when she wanted to throw up.

I drove, rubbing her back with one hand and driving with the other. Every now and then I would pass the bowl up for when she needed it. From the back Joe asked, "you feeling any better?"

"NO!" came the answer. He didn't ask again.

Eventually we got to Helston hospital where they gave her a prescription and Joe tried to straighten his spine and collect it from the massive superstore that is Tesco. It took him about half an hour as it was so busy, and finally we headed back home.

As she was still in so much pain, I said I’d be on call for the rest of the day (what there was left of it), but luckily the very strong painkillers kicked in and by 7pm she was looking a lot more human.

I breathed a sigh of relief, and poured myself a glass of wine.

Next weekend we’re going surfing. Kill or cure…..

Wednesday, 24 September 2014

MJ Long and Perfect Autumn Days


This is Moll in front of the magnificent cliffs at Burton Bradstock beach.

Last week I was fortunate enough to interview the architect, MJ Long, who was, with her husband, Sir Colin St John (“Sandy”) Wilson, responsible for designing the British Library, amongst many other works. MJ is well known for her work on studios and museums, and recently designed the National Maritime Museum in Falmouth, and worked on the Porthcurno Telegraph Museum, Porthmeor Studios in St Ives and the Princess Pavilions in Falmouth. Those are just a few of her many and varied achievements, so I was in some trepidation at meeting her.

We’d arranged to meet at Custom House Quay so we could go out for a sail in her South Coast One Design, and she rang me that afternoon to confirm the arrangements. It was blowing a Force 6 easterly - which means very windy and Falmouth is not a pleasant place to be when an easterly wind’s blowing.

But I met her and John, who has a share in the boat, down there at 5.30 and he was to row us out in the tender (a wooden punt which is heavy) to where the boat is, off Flushing. Well, poor John had hurt the tendons in one hand pulling the mainsail down the previous weekend, and his poor hand was black and blue with bruising, so he could only row with several fingers on that hand. Still, he insisted he would do it, and we headed off in this punt (an old wooden rowing boat) through waves that smashed against the hull, showering us with salt water, no matter how skilled a rower he was.

After half an hour of wind and tide against us, we reached the boat, but poor MJ wasn’t feeling well. She’d been up most of the previous night with food poisoning so hadn’t eaten all day, and then had to give a lecture at the Tate St Ives in the morning. By the time we got to the boat it was blowing a hoolie - not too much for the boat, but enough for MJ and to be honest, the weather wasn't too enticing.

We sat on the boat and chatted, then John rowed us back (what a kind man) and I set off to MJ’s house to interview her there. Many people who are very skilled at what they do, and have been doing it for along while, often talk in ways that I find largely incomprehensible. But MJ was a delight - she chatted away explaining the importance of light in buildings, how important boats are to her, and it was a really fascinating couple of hours.

I left there, feeling very fortunate to have a job where I meet such unusual, diverse and interesting people.

In contrast to then, we’ve had a few settled days of perfect autumn when I met Al down at Mylor harbour on Monday. There was no wind, but a sense of peace and mellow stillness in the lazy, hazy sunshine which made the brightness of summer seem almost too harsh. The first nip of autumn was in the air, but the gentle sunlight warmed my hands and soothed my senses as Moll and I walked towards Flushing.

Mr B often laments that you can’t hang on to days like that. But I think you can. I don’t need a photograph to remind me of the perfection of that day. It’s like a tattered photograph, much thumbed and loved, tucked away in the wallet of my mind. On wintry days I shall take it out and share it with him.



Wednesday, 17 September 2014

Tamarisk Farm

Last week we were booked to do a review of dog friendly accommodation in Dorset at www.tamariskfarm.co.uk - or rather, one of their cottages, and were really looking forward to it, partly because we were both in need of a break, and also because it was a chance to see my dear friend Av.

I wasn’t sure from the website what the cottage would be like (pictures can be misleading), but we headed off on the Sunday in splendid sunshine and after a coffee and Lidls stop, went to Burton Bradstock. Mr B had camped here as a child so the area had fond memories for him, and we walked along the cliffs, while Moll raced ahead like a sprightly rabbit. We clambered down to the beach and I spent a happy half hour sunbathing on a rock while Mr B and Moll looked for fossils.

The cottage we were allocated was Whispering Pines and it was a delight, reached by a winding path through a secret garden that opened out with a big secluded lawn and patio, and this enchanting cottage in the middle, surrounded by pine trees. The whole atmosphere was very un-English - it almost felt as if we were in Italy, and the weather seemed to think so too, for the sun shone every day.

We shared this peaceful garden with dragonflies, a green woodpecker, greenfinches, rabbits, pigeons and bees, and it was wonderful to sit outside and read in the sunshine. We did venture further afield to walk Moll and had a notable trip on the Saturday to a car boot, then looking at the map we decided to go either to Dorchester or Weymouth. As we wandered round the town, looking for somewhere to have coffee, I said idly, “Dorchester’s rather like Weymouth you know.”
Mr B looked at me with gathering incredulity. “This IS Weymouth,” he replied.

When we’d finished howling with laughter, he wiped his eyes and said, “I should have kept my mouth shut. I could have just pretended we were in Dorchester. I could have kept that going for days.”

In fact, we had such a good time we asked if we could stay a few more days, until Friday which was changeover day. Then on Thursday, I asked if we could stay till Sunday and as luckily they didn't have a booking for the following week, they said yes.

We had such a wonderful relaxing week and the Pearse family, who run the farm and the cottages, were incredibly welcoming - so much so we felt part of the family by the time we left.

So if any of you fancy a holiday in Dorset, I couldn’t recommend Tamarisk Farm more highly. It’s perfect for walking (near Chesil Beach and the coastal footpath) and not far from Bridport, Weymouth and Dorchester. The scenery is just beautiful and we can’t wait to go back.


Thursday, 4 September 2014

On the water


Last week saw the Tall Ships come to Falmouth for a wonderful few days. I was lucky enough to be invited to the opening ceremony so went on board the Polish ship before the mad rush started.

We took Echo out for the Parade of Sail on Sunday

and then on Monday Al came down so finally I got to have a sail on Snap and we were blessed with the most wonderful weather, and two fabulous sails.


And having had a double birthday celebration yesterday, I am now shattered.

Off to Dorset for a few days next week to catch up with my dear friend Av.
See you all soon.

Tuesday, 26 August 2014

Tall Ships

Sadly I was unable to race in Falmouth Week which was a huge disappointment, but weather and my op and my lack of strength were all against me. I'm glad to say we had a lovely sail on Piran last weekend though, and Al will be back soon and we're planning some cruising when he returns.

We just need Mr B's knee to recover (it isn't on its own but he is one of those men that believes that injuries right themselves. I was married to someone who believed that too. No comment. Just don't mention "physician heal thyself" or I will scream).

This is the view looking up the rigging of the Tall Ship Mercedes when we sailed on her last Easter (2013).

Now, Falmouth is gearing itself up for Tall Ships 2014 - let's hope the weather cheers up a bit as the sight of all those magnificent ships in Falmouth Bay is not to be missed. You'll be able to get on board the ships from Thursday to Saturday, then the grand Parade of Sail will be on Sunday from 11 till 2pm before they head off up the coast, up towards Greenwich.

So anyone who's in Cornwall over this coming weekend, head for Falmouth. It is truly the most wonderful sight - even if you don't like boats. You won't be disappointed!

And onto other matters - on Wednesday I have a medical MOT day. Gynae clinic in the morning and an hour's hygienist appointment in the afternoon. Luckily we're having a girls night after that - I'll need it!

Tuesday, 12 August 2014

The best laid plans...


The best laid - or is that made? - plans and all that…

This week is Falmouth Regatta Week which I’ve been looking forward to all year. I even organised my surgery so I could sail this week.

But one way and another it doesn’t look very promising. First of all, Al came down but the boat took longer to get ready than we’d anticipated, and when we finally set off for a sail last Friday, there was no wind.We had to be towed out, then paddle back - this boat has no engine. So that scuppered that. I was so disappointed I cried (quietly, where I hoped Al couldn’t see) so Mr B took me out in Echo instead. Which wasn't the same but better than nothing.

The following day Mr B went out with the others in the boat for a shake down as he knows much more about the technical side of things that I do, so I ground my teeth as I waved them off….

On Sunday, the first day of racing, Bertha hit Cornwall so all racing was cancelled.

Yesterday it was blowing a hoolie and chucking it down with rain so I wasn't sorry not to race and they had a hard time of it and broke a backstay.

That was fixed but today they went out and broke both backstays -lucky the mast stayed up - so once again the boat is being fixed.

I’ve got to the point of being Philosophical now. If I don’t race this year, it’s not the end of the world. It felt like it the other day, looked forward to it for a long time, but like all things, there’s a reason. And you certainly can’t argue with the weather.

The good news is that I had a phone call from a friend I haven’t seen for about 20 years who’s staying down at Mylor. We met up and it was just like old times. We took Moll for a walk and caught up and might even go on holiday together.

Just think, if I’d been racing I might not have seen her.

Wednesday, 6 August 2014

Theatre


This was us singing in the Field of Loss - the poppy field - at Heligan last Sunday.

Last Friday my dear friend Av and I went to see West Side Story at Plymouth’s Theatre Royal - a most wonderful production with a fabulous cast. Av had organised the whole event brilliantly, so our Travelodge was next door and car park near to that. Even better, we had plenty of eateries nearby so that sorted our food problem. All in all, a wonderful evening, then the next morning we had a guided tour round the theatre which was fascinating - seeing the orchestra pit, going on stage, and the dressing rooms.

Unfortunately my train was cancelled on the way back, then the next train was late, so I got in nearly 2 hours late, which involved endless phone calls mostly to organise Moll being picked up at a different time -but all was sorted.

Then the next day we set off for Mevagissey, then Heligan, to take part in 100: The Day the World Changed. Nearly 80 of us singers, plus a few friends, came along in 3 coaches, and we started off at Mevagissey town quay where the St Austell band played, then the re-enactment of the local men who went to war a hundred years ago, and how their women and children were affected.

It was incredibly moving and it was impossible not to cry at some point in the day - for me when we sang Soldiers Farewell to the impossibly young looking men - boys - who were about to walk off to war, thinking that they’d be home by Christmas.

The re-enactment lasted all day - we sang for a lot of it - to over 5,000 people and ended up in the Field of Loss - a field planted with poppies - as the names of all those who had died in the surrounding parishes were read out.

We walked miles, sang our hearts out, and it really brought home the horrors of what everyone had to live through - and are still doing so for those who have loved ones still fighting.

It was a real privilege to be part of this production, and our thanks go to all those who worked so hard to make it happen. Our wonderful Musical Director, Claire Ingleheart, deserves so many thanks for all her hard work. We are so very proud of her.