The Unexpected - In Multiples

Firstly, many thanks to My House from Quercy for the Liebster Award. Unfortunately I haven't been able to copy the logo but I am most grateful!

Last week ended horribly. The sort of horribly that you try and prevent but can, at the time, do nothing about. The sort of horribly that feels as if everything is draining out of you.

I was due to go to a party on Saturday night and a friend asked, “Are you sure you want to go?”
“Absolutely,” I replied. When feeling dire, do something to make you feel better is my motto. So I put on my favourite skirt (car boot last summer), good luck scarf (Christmas present), and at 8.30 we set off.

I found my friend Deb wasn’t at the party, and knowing she had a curfew of 9pm as she was babysitting her grandchildren, I nipped up the road to get her. She wasn’t in her house, wasn’t in the main house round the corner, but her son-in-law answered the door. “She’s in hospital,” he said. “Chest pains again. I’ll let you know what happens.”

I went back to the party and despite worrying over Deb, ended up having a great time. I caught up with some good friends, met several people (yes, men), had a few bops, several glasses of wine, and got to bed rather later than I’d intended.

The following morning was thick with text messages about Deb who was being kept in hospital but as I was heading that way anyway I said I’d see her in the afternoon after doing a walk for Cornwall Today. I collected Viv and set off with the dogs to China Clay country, pausing to drop off some belongings en route.

I waved from the van as we drew up, and hadn’t even got to the fellow’s door when it opened and the gentleman opened the door with a huge smile. “How lovely to see you!” he cried. I handed over his belongings, told him we were going to do a walk nearby. “Come and have a cup of tea when you’ve finished,” he said.

We set off with Viv musing over whether we might be fed. “Do you think he might nip down to Costcutters and get some Battenburg?” she said hopefully. “Or perhaps something else, as not everyone likes marzipan?”

“Stop thinking about food,” I said, “and get on with this walk.”

Unfortunately what looked like a good circular walk on the OS map proved to grind to a halt in a car park 45 minutes later. We consulted the map, realised we’d been walking in the opposite direction, and then asked a young couple if we could do a circular walk.

“No,” said the husband, “but you can go this way,” and gave highly detailed directions of where we could go, ending with the fatal words, “you can’t get lost.”

“Oh yes, we can,” said Viv.

We had to retrace our steps, weren’t able to do a walk for the magazine, but got back to the van having had a good laugh, the dogs had a good run and we caught up on the news. Then we went in for a cuppa which was most welcome. “Can I offer you something to eat?” the lovely gentleman said. “Biscuits? Cake? Bacon and egg pie?”

Viv’s eyes lit up at the word pie but I kicked her under the table, fearing that this was his tea for the next few nights. “No, we’ve just had sandwiches,” I said, watching Viv’s face fall. “But a biscuit would be lovely.”

“In that case, let me show you my gadget,” he said. I blinked slightly at this but it turned out to be a tap that spews out boiling water at the press of a button without having to boil a kettle. (Called a Quooler, it has a lagged tank under the sink that takes 2 weeks to cool down if you turn it off. Very impressive.)

We spent over an hour there, listening to this gentleman’s life – he was a Marine commando in Malaya when he met his wife – their first night of courting, and how he is managing now she is dead. He grew up in Truro and was telling us what it was like in the 1950s; like me, he enjoys car boots and told us about the one he goes to at Par on Thursday and Saturday mornings. In the middle of this, Deb rang to say she was allowed home and was being picked up by her daughter.

It is cheering to find that even when life is upsetting, there are unexpected pleasures. As my mum said last night, “you’re the sort of person things happen to, darling.”

In which case, what will happen next?

PS Have just sent my novel off to Legend Press so fingers crossed

Spontaneity

Thought for the day from my SIL, Shelagh in Vermont: "I shall live badly if I do not write, and I shall write badly if I do not live." Francoise Sagan

I love spontaneity and recently have had several evenings and days out where nothing was planned but I had a great time. Don't get me wrong, I love things to look forward to, as well.

Having had a weekend mix of planned treats - singing in Truro cathedral and a gig in Penryn - I had a spontaneous evening on Saturday which resulted in listening to great music, and a day out on Sunday all the better for not being planned.

I have another review of dog friendly accommodation coming up in Bude next weekend, which I'm looking forward to, and a week near Penzance in March. Ideally, a balance of spontaneity and planned stuff is what I would aim for. But life is never perfect, and sometimes the unplanned isn't t always what we would wish for!

In the meantime, I aim to concentrate on looking forward to the good stuff. It's easy to anticipate what might go wrong, and waste a lot of time worrying about it. We all tend to do that a bit, but I try not to, too much. As my friend John said the other day, "If you can grab a bit of happiness, go for it".

The weekend review

The weekend was marvellous – a real break. I hadn’t quite realised how tired I was, and dear Viv did all the driving which was even better. Originally another friend was due to come but was due to be away that weekend, and as Viv had been poorly over Christmas and she rarely gets away, this worked out very well indeed.

The drive to Chagford only took an hour and a half from Truro so we arrived in time to give the dogs a run at Fingle Bridge, a beautiful riverland walk so we got to the hotel with very muddy dogs.

Luckily they have a wet room with plenty of dog towels – well, pristine white ones that Viv and I winced at using – but we managed to get the worst off the dogs in the river, then in the wet room basin, and were shown to our room which had a lovely French window opening onto a patio and huge garden overlooking the river.

We headed out to Chagford that night to the Globe for a bite to eat, which dear Paul (Viv’s partner) paid for, then took the dogs to the Ring O’Bells where they had music on. Unfortunately it was a bit loud for Titch’s tender ears (Molls is used to loud gigs by now) so we headed back to the hotel for a drink in the bar. This was rather more than we’re used to paying (white faces and jaws dropped at the price) before turning in for the night.

The next day we set off for Castle Drogo (see above picture) but it took far longer than the 30 minutes the hotel staff had advised, so we had to turn back as Mum was arriving for lunch. We went back to the Globe and sat in front of – or nearly in – a huge log fire for lunch and had a wander round Chagford which has 3 great pubs, two hardware shops that have been in the family for over 100 years and still offer a courteous service, and countless other Proper Shops.

We then went back and walked along the river the other way before finding a pub within walking distance (over the fields) and decided to go there for a meal that evening. The Sandy Park Inn – was very small but we had the biggest welcome, from the resident dogs as well as the locals, a fabulous meal and the wine was good too.

All in all we came home feeling relaxed and refreshed, and I wrote up the review on MOnday and sent it off with pictures.

I’m on the list for more reviews as of April, all being well. I’m not complaining.

Freebies

I recently wrote a piece for Your Dog magazine about how walking had changed my life – getting me out and about, making new friends, and helping me deal with Pip’s death. The editor then asked if I could send in one of my walks as well, which I did.
By the way, it’s in the February issue – out now. See Page 95.

Then I had an email from another member of staff from the magazine asking if I’d like to review some dog friendly accommodation in Devon. I pointed out that I was in Cornwall, not Devon but where was it?

To cut a long story short (stop rambling, FP), this weekend Viv, Titch, Mollie and I are going to the Mill End Hotel – a gorgeous looking country house hotel on Dartmoor. In exchange for me writing a detailed review and taking pictures, the hotel are providing bed and breakfast for Friday and Saturday nights. Also, it looks like the ground floor rooms have doors opening out onto the garden which means we don’t have to get up at some ungodly hour to let the dogs out for a wee in the morning. (Us dog owners have to think about such practicalities.)

Looking at the dinner menu, which is way beyond our price range, I think it will be chips in the pub down the road for us. It will be a lovely break, though, and Mum is coming over on Saturday so we can see her as well.

I have said to the magazine that I am happy to review accommodation for their next dog friendly publication next year (more freebies??). Then Viv said, “can’t you get some restaurant reviews, Sue?”

There’s no pleasing some people.

Second Adolescence

I was at Lanhydrock (above) on Sunday taking pictures for a walk, while trying to fight off a vile cold– along with most of Falmouth. As a result of said lurgy I’ve actually had a run of nights in which has been something of a pleasant novelty given my life recently. It struck me that the second part of last year was rather like having a second adolescence (not bad at 53) – given a sudden new lease of life I felt duty bound to grab it with both hands and make the most of every second.

Now that initial rush has passed, I’m finding that because my life is very busy – filled with very pleasant things I hasten to add – I do need time to myself. So I shan’t be going out every night (she says….). There was something very comforting about coming back from a good day out, lighting the fire and making a Thai curry while I went through the next box of hankies.

Looking back, it’s incredible how my life has changed. But I am very fortunate. I have some very special friends, a gorgeous dog, my singing life and work – and on that front, I have agreed a contract for another walks book to do with Cornish writers. Having talked to the publishers, we are all very excited about it – so that will be coming out in 2013. I have to get rid of this cold, get walking and get writing.

A little voice in the background says – what will go wrong? Life doesn’t go this smoothly. And I guess there’s plenty that could go wrong. But I’m not going to worry about it until it does. In the meantime I shall look forward to the good things and enjoy the others that come along.

I hope you do, too.

RIP Barrington

On Christmas Eve a much loved member of Falmouth society died. Barrington, as he was known, was the landlord of the Seven Stars pub (Pip’s local for many a year) but was also a priest, though he wasn’t ordained until he was in his 60s.

Barrington’s famous scowl and heavy eyebrows were featured in the Beano courtesy of another Seven Stars regular, Nick Brennan, a very talented cartoonist who has worked for the Beano (amongst many others) for years.

Nick caught his stance perfectly – all of us locals have been subjected to Barrington’s Glare at times, but also, if any of us were in trouble, we could always go to Barrington for help and advice. “Come to the back bar,” he would say, and we could sit there and pour out our woes. He was also adamant about his likes and dislikes - he refused to have mobile phones in the pub and to warn customers, he spiked a phone and hung it up on the wall.

Dear Barrington was a good friend to me – and to many others, though he did have a soft spot for me. One summer evening when I hadn’t known Pip for long, Barrington confided that he'd got a new car. We went outside to look at it. “Want a spin?” he said.

I agreed, hopped in and was taken for a drive by Barrington. When we arrived back at the pub, everyone was intrigued as to where we’d gone. Except my husband, who was onto his third pint and busy talking….

Barrington’s funeral was a wonderfully grand and curiously happy affair – a Requiem Mass at Truro cathedral last Friday with at least 500 people attending plus Bishop Bill, the current Bishop and many other dignitaries. Barrington had written the service out himself and would have loved it. Everyone sang their hearts out, and the wake afterwards, held in the Seven of course, went on for hours. 7 barrels of beer were drunk and they actually ran out. Which gives you some idea of dear Barrington’s popularity.

As a friend said to me at the service, “Trust Barrington to die on Christmas Eve. He’ll know that from now on it’ll be known as Barrington’s Eve.” And so it should be.

Here’s to you, Barrington. To a good and true friend.

Happy New Year

First of all a very happy new year to everyone. My Christmas/New Year festivities went much better than expected – in fact Christmas Day was one of the best I’ve had for a long while, and you can see Mollie enjoying the beach on Christmas Day. But Pip and I never celebrated it anyway so I had little to miss.

Several days after Christmas I headed up to London (don’t mention the train journey from hell) to meet some friends and see the Leonardo Da Vinci exhibition. Courtesy of the rail service I was over an hour late and made the 7pm ticket deadline with a minute to spare (wiping sweat from brow) and very glad I did, despite being knackered. It really is a once in a lifetime experience and despite being hot and crowded, worth every minute of the 2 hours we spent there.

We then went for a drink in Covent Garden, before heading back to Surrey to spend the night with Deb’s mum. Next day we spent some time with her before heading back into London and exploring old haunts and then the long trek home. A 5 hour journey seems to take forever when you’re tired, but I got second wind on receiving a text from a friend to say that some friends were doing a gig at our local pub. No wonder I’m tired now.

On New Year’s Day evening I went to the Cornish shout at a pub near Redruth which was terrific. Everyone seemed to be suffering new year blues and a good sing among friends was a fantastic way to cheer ourselves up. Since then I’ve met several other friends, all feeling down. There can be so much pressure at this time of year to be having an amazing time – or think that everyone else is having an amazing time – when many people aren’t.

But I hope 2012 brings all my friends – cyber and real – happiness, love, peace, fun, productivity/creativity and good health. And whatever else you may desire.