I mentioned in a previous post that the death of Queen Elizabeth II has evoked for many people (myself included) memories of our own personal grief and loss.
Looking at this image (taken this weekend at during a lovely family gathering near The New Forest) I was reminded of a description of grief and loss that I was told many years ago, it resonated with me at the time, and has done so many times since.
That grief never leaves you. But that as time passes, the grief, like the growth ring of a tree, becomes encapsulated within you as the years pass. Hidden from view, hopefully a little easier to carry, but always there in the heartwood. Not forgotten.
So today, the day of Queens Elizabeth’s state funeral, for all who grieve, I leave you with this beautiful song.
It’s been a week of contemplation. We’ve lived here for over thirty years, and never before have we seen a temperature of 35.8c as we did on Tuesday, deeply worrying. We were very grateful to be in a house with very thick stone walls and a heavy stone slate roof, plus the windows are for the most part small by modern standards. We could keep ourselves comfortable.
Perhaps most worrying is now the the temperature is back to a regular 19c, it’s as though it was a bad dream, a couple of days of very uncomfortable hot weather, not a bellwether for climate change. My concern is as a species we don’t seem able or willing to take action now.
Since my last post, which had been a long, long emotional time in the making. I’ve found myself back in a way of thinking that I’d lost touch with. And I have to say it is a nice familiar feeling.
It’s taken me back to composing little blog posts as I meander along. Maybe it is time to start posting again. I’ve had a few false starts before, but I’m up for trying again.
Lets open the gate, and see where we can go, and what we might find.
Art Deco gate. East Portlemouth Devon
I always stop and admire this gate. I imagine that by now the fiery orange montbretia will have bloomed along the steps, making the colours sing just a little brighter and louder.
We’ve been holidaying in our often featured, favourite Devon spot a little earlier than usual. And whilst we enjoy being able to visit outside the school holidays (it’s more peaceful, and a lot cheaper) we miss the fun and games we used to have with the ‘Mill Bay Gang’. The children are all grown up now, and scattered around the country and the globe. We the remaining grown ups have had to find new ways to entertain ourselves, it has involved a number of long leisurely lunches, but we are getting the hang of it.
So, maybe if I can push through the gate, I can also delve a little deeper, and explore some unfamiliar places and stories and report back to the blog. I like the idea of opening a few drawers, for a good old rummage around, ‘though few drawers will be as glamorous as these.
I’m told my blog is fifteen years old. And whilst not a lot has been posted on it recently, I do refer to it often. Every time there is a question about when was it ‘such and such’ happened, this blog usually has the answer. It is stuffed full of memories.
Never more so than since Boxing day, the 26th of December 2021, when we had to say goodbye to our beloved dog Spud
Spud and his antics were a very important part of this blogs narrative.
His death, was both peaceful and timely, we miss him so very much, his absence ambushes us painfully time and time again.
We’re indebted to our local veterinary surgery, who whilst working under sever staffing pressures and Covid restrictions, made it possible for us to have the time and privacy to discuss an end of life plan for Spud. He had become slower and achy, and when in November he started showing symptoms of Horner’s Syndrome, the suspicion was that something serious was developing. We knew that that putting him through any invasive tests and procedures would not be in his best interests and it was agreed just before Christmas that he should be kept comfortable at home, being spoilt and eating lots of turkey.
He would have had a good zoom around given half a chance, but we’d learned, even if Spud hadn’t, that charging around too much made him rather sore and stiff, so we just allowed him a modest zoom. You can see he enjoyed it.
On our travels through Scotland in September, we came across these war graves.
This is the final resting place of five unknown sailors of the Merchant Navy, their bodies were washed ashore between the 6th of September and the 14th October 1940
Kilmore Cemetery Dervaig – Island of Mull
You can read more about the circumstances of their deaths here.
Considering the span of these dates over which the bodies were recovered I wonder if these were shipmates of Able Seaman Davies (see above) of S.S. Bibury, or crewmembers of S.S. Thornlea. Both vessels were travelling in the same convoy OB205 which dispersed on 30th August 1940. The two vessels remained together and were torpedoed by U46 on 2nd September 1940 off the West coast of Ireland, 55.41N 14.30W. The S.S. Thornlea however only lost three crewmen, the rest being rescued by the Canadian Destroyer H.M.C.S. Skeena, and the Norwegian S.S. Hild.
Other bodies were found on the beaches of the island of Iona.
And in the cemetery in Lockerbie, a war grave from the First World War, to commemorate Private EP Fergusson, of the Highland Cyclists Battalion.
Scotland is a beautiful place to be in September, you know the weather has the potential to be lively, and that’s OK, just pack the right gear, although having not been out and about in the campervan since the start of the pandemic, we had kind of forgotten some of the rudimentary rules of dealing with wet gear in a confined space, and way more stuff became damp and soggy than should have done, it took us a day or two to dry out, but we had a great trip and we came back physically refreshed and our camper van skills rebooted.
So in no particular order, a September jolly north of the border, carefully following the Covid-19 rules and regulations, as laid out by the Scottish Government, and keeping ourselves to ourselves, as much as possible; no wild camping and staying on pre-booked approved campsites.
Whilst heading north, a visit to Jupiter Art Land south of Edinburgh, a sculpture park. We’ll start with the Gateway, a glorious quirky swimming pool
The nine meter wide pool, looks a fabulous place for a party! The house in the background is the home of the Wilson family, the art and parkland that surround it are a trust.
It’s a long time since I last posted. I took a quick snap of some sweet peas from the garden today, and my mind wandered back to a very early blog post I wrote about sweet peas flourishing so late in the season. The memory prompted me to pitch up here.
It’s years since I’ve grown sweet peas, they seem to need lots of tender love and care and coaxing in the month of May, and into early June, which is our favoured time to take off in the campervan for a few weeks. It always seems a big enough ask of our neighbour to take care of the cat the hens and the house plants, without complicating matters with tender garden plants.
A ‘big van trip’ wasn’t something we wanted to do in May, with the vaccination programme still rolling out.
So I thought I’d give them ago if I was at home to look after them. Despite the random weather this year, they have thrived*, the perfume has lost its intensity now, but they are still throwing a party in the kitchen!
We might not have had a ‘big van trip’ but we did get away at the end of September, to Scotland, and yes it was our lovely neighbour continuing to pick the blooms in our absence that has led to this glorious flush of blooms. I hope you have neighbours as generous as ours.
* I tried the same with dahlias this year too, disaster, not a bloom. Which is a shame, I’ve always loved a dahlia. Can you see me?
I hope you are all keeping safe. It’s a long time since I posted, time seems to have taken on a different dimension, I’ve little comprehension of what day or date it is. Sometimes this state of affairs seems to have been forever, then I’m surprised that another week has passed.
We have been able to keep ourselves to our selves.
The garden, pond and field have been a rich source of pleasure. The pond seems to have relished the prolonged dry sunny period, in spite of the spring that feeds it drying up. With the irises bursting into flower it had a showy ‘Ta Dah’ kind of moment.
There have been droves of damselflies, I tried to identify them, and rapidly brought it down to the following categories, red
and blue.
It was enough information for me.
We are relieved that our son Tom, is safe and well in the happy place called New Zealand. We’d be lying if we didn’t admit to being more than a little envious of how quickly the New Zealand government have been able to lift their restriction. I fear we are in this mess for a long time to come.
So I’ll keep on watching the grass grow.
And try and workout the new WordPress editor. I’m reminded of a washing machine that has about 30 different program options, when you only ever use two or three at most.
wITH MY CURRENT JOB ROLE FINISHING UP IVE DECIDED TO DO A ROAD TRIP FROM SYDNEY DOWN TO the coast of VICTORIA AND ONTO SOUTH AUSTRALIA. wILL BE POSTING IN COLOUR
Uphilldowndale 