Category Archives: Cornwall

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I Love The Night Life

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John and I have a connection that makes it almost impossible not to spot each other, even in a crowd. This can make it difficult for me to sneak a shot of him without being seen. A moment or two before he snapped this laughing, ‘Oops, you caught me’ photo, I was crouched in between some of our neighbors trying to get a shot of him with a straight face. I’d taken four or five earlier in the evening and every time I pointed the camera in his direction, he’d pull (make) a face like the one below.

So I set out to stalk him from a distance thinking if I went off to talk with others at the New Year’s Eve gathering, I might double back and catch him unaware.

You can see how well that worked out for me in the photo above. (Double click if you need too) He caught me and then when I laughed about being found out, he took the picture of me laughing and waving my hand in sheepish surrender that you see in the first photograph.

We always have fancy dress themes for New Year’s Eve at our village pub and this year we had to choose something related Nursery Rhymes. Here you see a Grand Old Duke Of York and Little Miss Muffet along with Wee Willie Winkie and the Queen of Hearts.

Here’s another Wee Willie Winkle. Our neighbor Len was going off with his wife Mary to ring the church bells at midnight. It was very dark and rainy which made for an interesting shot.

You may recognize the Three Blind Mice.

We’ve got a spider and a Cat with a fiddle at the table and that’s John to the right with a pint, all dressed in blue with a horn that is more Harpo Marx than Little Boy Blue, the character he chose for the night.

I’m not sure where all that bokeh came from. My lens was clean and it wasn’t in the other shots I took in that direction. I had to use this one because it was the only one I managed to get of John not making a face.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Not everyone dressed up, but I think they still had a good time. Some years are easier than others and I found this one a bit challenging.

That’s Roger behind the bar with Humpty Dumpty on his back. ( I can’t remember why now)

There’s Old King Cole

This strange one came from a distant village and I think has the wrong theme in mind. He looked like the Incredible Hulk with a bad case of chicken pox.

John and I were outside listening to the church bells and kissing at midnight and didn’t get to join hands to sing ‘Auld Lang Syne.‘ 

John WInchurch & Elizabeth Harper January 1, 2012

Here we are after midnight finishing a drink before heading for home. And in case you’re wondering what I came as that night …

Elizabeth Harper - Dressed For New Year's Eve 2011

With all those characters wandering around, I thought there ought to be someone to tell the story so I went as the teller of tales, the reader of rhymes, the great and mysterious,

                                                     Bedtime  Storyteller

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A Good Four Years

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Online dating can be a nasty business from what I’ve heard and I can see why that might be so for many people. I’ve only had two experiences with it, one with my husband John who turned out to be exactly who he represented himself to be, and one a few years before that was disappointing and educational. I’ll leave it by saying there are some lessons I’d rather not have learned.

If you’ve followed my story you’ll know that I wasn’t really interested in dating men in the UK as much as I was reading about them. You’ll also know that I found John by a happy accident on New Year’s Eve after reading through several hundred profiles on a UK dating site.

I bring this up again because today marks four years since he received an email that I had no idea I’d initiated, from Guardian Soulmates informing him that he had a ‘Fan.’

If you’re interested in the romantic details, you can read more here and here. A lot can happen in four years and a great deal of our last four years can be found on this blog site and in my earlier version of ‘Gifts Of The Journey.’ 

John, romantic sweetie that he is, came into the room where I was sitting a few days ago and said that he had been rereading the emails from when we first met online and said that our conversations then, were much as they are now, honest, straight-forward, and without pretense.

I was lying on the couch looking rough this morning, a result of a post holiday illness when after reminding me of today’s date and the time that had passed, he gave my hand a tender squeeze and said, ‘They’ve been a good four years.’

He’s right, you know. With little effort we’ve been very happy and I feel so lucky to have found such a dear man.

John Winchurch & Elizabeth Harper - 2011

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Smoke And Fire – Letting Go And Staying Open

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A few days ago I wrote a piece called ‘ Up In Smoke ‘ if you missed it, take a minute and go back for a quick read through. What follows will make more sense if you do.

Now that you’ve caught up, take a look the beach bonfire where the ceramic containers went into fire on New Year’s Day so the strips of paper inside could be turned to ash and the wishes and burdens released.

Here’s shot from a distance to give you some scale for the rockiness of the area.

Remember when I said there would be sausages roasted over the fire … well, that is Tina’s brother in the foreground with a sausage on a stick. He was there with his wife and daughter and wrote about his bonfire experience in the comment section here. I’ve included it below as well. (Thanks, Pablo)

” Ari, Amber and I really enjoyed the wonderful new years day bonfire on Baby Bay, watching the urns get hotter and hotter as we cooked hot dogs and sausages. After about an hour the urns got so hot that the wishes and burdens caught flame and made a whooshing sound as they exhaled fire and smoke from the egg like urns. It reminded me of the celebration of lights that signal the coming of longer days and rests at the heart of our solstice inspired christian midwinter festivals.”

Ahhh … Cornish sausages over an open fire. I have to eat them with American mustard though. I carry it with me when I know I’ll be eating some especially at our village pub. Nothing says American like pulling a BIG bottle of French’s mustard from your handbag.

Big thanks to Amyra Bunyard who documented the process and gave me permission to use her images here.

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Moments To Treasure In 2012, Happy New Year!

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This old sundial sits over the entryway to a church near the village where we live. Our church has one as well, but this one is my favorite for several reasons. The words on the face of it speak to two things that I always consider, how time is fleeting, and that we should pay attention to the moments before they are gone.

Something else that stays with me almost as much as the words is the obvious mistake. See where the word fly is tucked up into the far right corner … it looks as if the metal worker forgot it or miscalculated the space.

I like that it’s that word that is out-of-place, it looks more magical than mistake with a Peter Pan sort of quality as if it’s lifting off and taking flight rather than being squeezed in because he forgot it.

Made on June 21,1792 by someone I assume was a man given the date, T. Symons was also most likely a blacksmith since the sundial is made of metal.

I wonder if capitalizing the letter M in moments was because if he thought it deserved a bit more attention than the rest, an awareness gleaned from having lived long enough to know what it’s like to miss the moments that matter …

or

… maybe it was just another mistake because he was in a hurry to get home to his family while there was still a bit of sunshine left on a midsummer day.

That I’m thinking about the possibilities 220 years after he tapped it into the metal makes me wonder if a perfectly made piece would have made such an impact.

New Year’s Day is always a one of reflection for me and despite the distractions of today, I’m pleased to have a moment to dig for something deeper.

Happy New Year to each of you and I hope 2012 brings you many moments to treasure.

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Full As A Tick And Other Thoughts About Food

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Christmas 1960 - Elizabeth Harper - Looking Full As A Tick

It’s early 9:15 in the morning here and I still feel full from all the food I’ve eaten over the last few days. John and I may have had a quiet Christmas with just the two of us, but lord did we eat!

More than a time or two the words ‘ I’m full as tick, ‘ may have crossed the lips of one of us and you won’t need to wonder which if you remember I’ve got southern roots. Our different geographic histories were also clearly illustrated by the foods that filled our plates.

John made all of his traditional English side dishes and I made the ones that have graced my family’s southern dinner table for as long as I can remember so that in the end it looked as if we had both made a complete Christmas dinner with only a shared turkey and gravy between us.

While I’m talking turkey, I have to say that John’s turkey this year was amazing! On big holidays like Christmas and Thanksgiving, turkey tends to be more as an accessory item to me, something I’m supposed include but don’t want too much of as there are more exciting choices to be had. This year the turkey was perfect in taste and texture and I stuffed down more of it than usual.

Speaking of stuffing, John made his in the bird and I did a cornbread dressing in a pan like my family does in Georgia. I used cornmeal carried over on my last flight since I haven’t been able to find any in Cornwall.

Have a look at our dinner plates on Christmas day, they may look like they have the same food, but if you look closely you can see the difference. John has more of the roasted root veggies along with his stuffing and the English version of a ‘pig in a blanket.’ Here it’s a sausage wrapped in bacon while in my family it would be a cocktail weenie wrapped in a biscuit.

John's Christmas Dinner

I had one chance to grab a quick shot of John’s plate as he had his knife and fork in hand and was waiting impatiently to begin. Multiple shots were not a possibility so this one will have to do. Notice all the plain ‘healthier’ veggies … there’s only a small dibble of my contributions seen at about 9 and 10 o’clock on the plate. He did compliment me on my broccoli bake (we’d call it a casserole) but that means something less special here.

My Christmas Dinner

My plate has a mix of both of our dishes. A good southern girl is raised to be polite and eat a of bit of what’s offered, but I focused mainly on things I made like my sweet potato casserole which is always heavenly and the previously mentioned broccoli which I successfully modified slightly by substituting regular bread crumbs with cornbread crumbs instead.

The pink stuff as John likes to call it, is what we refer to as a congealed salad and it’s made from a recipe Cullene has had for many years. I love this cranberry, cream cheese and jello concoction, and no holiday meal is complete for me without it. John likens it to something here called Blancmange which sounds as if he’s saying Blamonge.

The end result was the same for both of us with empty plates and overfull bellies. In a time where many people don’t have enough, I was acutely aware of how fortunate we are to have so much.

The taste of special dishes served only once or twice a year acts as a link for me and probably many of you too reminding us of past holiday meals shared with family and friends and perhaps, it’s the feelings triggered by memory along with a mix of sweetness and spice that makes us overindulge at times.

Here’s hoping your heart was a full as your tummy and that your meal was shared with someone you love.

' Cheers ' from John Winchurch At Christmas

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Mixed Memories And Our Traveling Tree

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Someone asked me if we were decorating for Christmas a few days ago when I was sitting on a stool in our village pub. I responded with an enthusiastic yes, but acknowledged that the house was a bit of a mess and the tree was unfinished. I went on to say that John had dug up our Christmas tree from the front of the house and moved it inside after putting it in a pot.

Living Christmas Tree, Digging Up A Christmas Tree

Even though we’ve known each other for almost four years, this will only be our second Christmas in the house together. I wrote a couple of posts about our first Christmas and the tree in the posts from then is the same one you see here.

I stayed up late last night to put the rest of the ornaments on it so that I could tidy the room and but the box away that holds the Christmas lights and ornaments. Notice how I said, ‘the box’ not boxes? There was a time when I would unpack loads of Christmas decorations for the house and tree, but after moving to the UK, it all fits in one medium-sized box.

The effect of having less decorations for the tree and house makes the holiday season more fun and I’m less rushed to get everything out quickly and assembled. This makes it easier to linger over the memories that come up for me when I unwrap the ornaments.

This year, I was impressed by how many ornaments we already have from our travels together. Most of what hangs on the tree came with me when I moved to Cornwall, but since John and I married in 2009, we’ve managed to pick up quite a few more.

Paris Letter 1862, Christmas TreeThis ornament made from letter written in 1862 reminds me of our honeymoon in Paris. It was a gift from my dear friend David in Atlanta. He sent me home with another carefully wrapped wooden hummingbird when I was in Atlanta for the summer and it was one of the first ornaments I put on the tree this year.

Wooden Hummingbird Christmas Ornament, Crocheted Snowflake, Christmas TreeHere’s the hummingbird along with a crocheted snowflake that my step-mom Cullene gave me from her tree. It’s one of three she gave me that remind me of home. When I put these on the tree I can picture her washing, starching, and ironing the ton of snowflakes that she hangs on her own.

Kiwi Christmas Ornament The Kiwi came home with us from our New Zealand trip last year. It was difficult to find a Kiwi ornament that was not bejeweled and overdone.

New Zealand Sheep Christmas OrnamentThis New Zealand sheep was handmade by a woman in a yarn store in Christchurch and is my favorite of the two we brought back.

Wreath From Kansas Wheat

It’s funny how many ornaments are actually gifts from other people such as this one my sister Margaret gave me of a wreath made from Kansas wheat.

Santa In A GondolaCullene brought this glass blown ‘ Santa in a Gondola ‘ back from Venice. My own stop in Venice was a quick trip to change trains on my way to Greece in 1981 so I’ve not really been there yet myself.

These two are from Scotland, a place I love no matter how rough the weather.

I carried thistle in my wedding bouquet when John and I married.

This came from a trip I took with Miranda to Alaska in 1986 to meet my nephew Sam when he was born. I made this from a key chain that I bought when John and I did the Tour du Mont Blanc in 2008. I thought the St Bernard was a good reminder of our long walk through the Alps. These three combine the land of my birth in America with my new home in England. Miranda and I bought the guard and the Westminster Abby ornaments on our first trip to the UK in 2003. I could not have imagined the life change five years later that would have me living here.

This one is from a trip to Bali which was the longest flight I’d ever been on until flying to Australia and New Zealand last November.

Some ornaments look rather ordinary, but remind me of my resilience such as the one from Aspen, a place where I went snowshoeing only ten days after major surgery. Not the smartest thing I know, but I couldn’t let the opportunity pass without an attempt.

This one reminds me of my military service and my memories of jeep driving in Grafenwoehr, Germany.

This Christopher Radko ornament reminds me of people living with HIV and the good folks who provide care for them.

This one has a story too long to tell in a blog post, but it makes me smile to see it.

A bird in a nest for John who has increased both my knowledge and appreciation for birds in ways I would not have imagined. The penguin in the background is was a gift from a sweet woman I met when I first worked in HIV. Annie works in Hospice and is the kind of person you’d like by your bedside at the end of your days.

Butterflies always remind me of my dear friend Marty who had a conversation with me before he died while standing next to his butterfly garden that changed my life.

My favorite ornaments are those made by my daughter Miranda as she was growing up. I love the simplicity of the hand colored one above and the sweet one below with her little fingerprints made when she was only two.

 I made the bear angel that sits on top of our tree for Miranda’s first Christmas 24 years ago when she was a few months old. She had a bear theme in her bedroom and I carried it over to the tree that year with bear ornaments and bear garlands. I didn’t plan on it being a forever tree topper, but it’s so connected with her that I love seeing it there every year.

The same person who asked if I was decorating for Christmas also asked me if our tree had a theme and I said that was really just a mix of ornaments and not one based on color or anything else with a common element. Thinking about her question later, I think there is a theme to our tree and it’s more than just travel and pretty colors.

Our tree is a live, slightly lop-sided one that is also recycled in that we keep digging it up. It’s covered with a collection of ornaments that are there because they mean something and it feels to me like a way to have people I love around me at Christmas if only in memory of other moments we shared with together.

An English - American Living Room At ChristmasHere’s what it looked like a few minutes ago. If you’d like to share a link to your tree or any other decorations you have this time of year, feel free to leave a comment and a link below.

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A Bird In The Bush

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Bird In The Bush

I was hooded and in a hurry, moving quickly to avoid the rain while trying to track my husband’s movement on a hill some distance away. I’d lingered behind to take ‘ just one more picture ‘ and he’d gone on ahead as he often does when we’re out together.

Partially hidden by high bushes edging the path, I could see him waving both arms over his head like a stranded survivor signaling a rescue team for pickup. Having confirmed his general location, I returned his wave, then turned and went back down the path.

I’d almost missed the bird in my rush to catch up, but a flash of movement in the brown thicket triggered my curiosity and I went back to find a little bird eating what was left of the summer seeds. Its color was almost identical to the dried plants around it and had it not moved, I would have missed it completely.

It took some maneuvering to get this shot as the bird kept turning its back to me. It seemed unafraid and appeared to ignore me as I stepped closer and called out softly to gets its attention, ‘Hey birdie, birdie.’ Whistling had no effect either, but when I made a series of clicking sounds with my tongue, the bird turned, looked at me, and held a pose long enough for me to snap a few photos.

We did this several times before I left it to its meal in the rain.

 

 

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Balancing Acts – NaNoWriMo Week 2

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There have been many times in my life where I focused too much on the needs and expectations of my employer. I’ve always prided myself on doing the best job possible and sometimes, make that many times, my personal life has suffered. I won’t go into all the reasons, but fear, ego, and a strong desire not to disappoint would top the list.

Financial fear was most compelling when I was a single mom and it’s fear that can still launch me into hyperdrive. Only now it’s not such much about money, but more about delivering what I’ve talked about for years.

Many of you know that I am participating in NaNoWriMo this year for the first time and I really appreciate the messages of support I’ve received since I wrote about it here.

I took two days off from writing last week trying to find some balance between my darling, undemanding husband, my part-time job, and my work on the novel, and then couldn’t find my way back to the sweet spot of inspiration I had before my time off turned into a into a plot-line procrastination fest.

Having never written a novel before, I find myself getting bogged down in problem solving such as how to move a character from one period in time to another along with a whole host of what I tend to think of as ‘housekeeping’ issues. I’ll have to talk more about ‘housekeeping’ and what I mean by that later as the sun is well up now and I need to get to work.

I am way behind on my word count and my characters are standing around looking so bored that I’m afraid if I leave them much longer on their own, they’ll move on like Pirandello’s, Six Character’s in Search of an Author.

I should be back here in a day or two, but the only promise I’m making now is to getting more words on paper. I’m a long way from the 50,000 I need to make it a successful NaNoWriMo experience, but I’m still committed.

I’m leaving you with a few pictures from our day out last week. These were taken close to home at places we’re been many times before.

It’s interesting how easy it can be to discover new things if you’re open to revisiting familiar places.

If you need me, I’ll be at my desk.

         

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What I Missed Today

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Mist hanging over the Camel Valley 25 Oct 2011 - John Winchurch

John went out for a short walk a little while ago and I stayed in because I have to be somewhere in a few minutes and I thought it might rain.

I wanted you to see what I missed because I was worried my hair might get wet.

What a waste!

I could have gone with wet hair or taken a minute to blow it dry, but I opted to skip the walk instead. In the future, I must remember there’s always more than one option.

 

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Listen To Your Heart

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John and I went out for a coast path walk recently and had an interesting coincidence occur as we were walking back after stopping for lunch in a pub by the sea. I paused a few times like I always do to snap a photo or two and had to hurry to catch up. I was huffing and puffing as I ran up the hill behind him and said, “Hold on a minute, I need to catch my breath!”

I stepped past while turning to face him and taking his hand in mine, I put it over my heart and said,” Feel how fast my heart is beating,” and just as I said it, I looked to the right of where we where standing and saw the little heart you can see on the tree below.

I couldn’t decide whether it was natural or carved by a lover from long ago, but standing in the quiet woods completely alone with the man I love, I thought it was a sweet affirmation of what you can discover if you’re willing to stop and listen to your heart.

Give all to love; obey thy heart.

~ Ralph Waldo Emerson