Category Archives: Living in UK

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Protecting Your Eyesight In The Veggie Patch – Lessons Learned From A Gracious Gardener

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I took this photograph in mid April when my friends Mike and Rebecca were putting their garden into the ground. My intention that day had been focused around getting some shots of an unusual magnolia tree in their back garden, but after finding the natural light a bit too dark to get a good exposure, I moved on intent on seeing what else might be interesting and different to photograph. I’d been asking questions as I went, about the plants and the expectations that they hoped for in return for their labor and it didn’t take long for my inexperience and ignorance about gardening to become quickly apparent.

As I stepped up to the raised bed in the image above I thought to myself, Alright … I know this one, now I can at least show her I am not a total goof when it comes to growing things. I turned to Rebecca and said kind of casually in a voice that sounded like I thought I knew exactly what I was talking about, ” So you’ve got those plastic cups on those stakes to scare away the birds huh, does it work? ” To which Rebecca said something I remember as,” Not exactly, but they do keep us from poking an eye out when we lean in to work on the plants.”

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Can You Tell Me How To Get To …

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I’m often stopped by strangers when I’m out on a run who ask, ” Can you tell me how to get to … ” and I must have acquired a new level of confidence when responding as people seem inclined to accept my instructions without displaying the hesitation I’ve witnessed in the past.

The man in the photograph below was walking on lane in the opposite direction as I passed him yesterday and wished to find the Camel Trail. He had parked nearby, but had somehow gotten off track and needed a bit of help to find his way back. As I was going in the same direction, I led him to the trail and then slowed to a walk to allow him to get far enough ahead so I might feel a bit more alone on the path. He was the first person I had run into on a stunningly perfect weather day and I was surprised not to encounter more folks along the way.

Even though it was hardly crowded with only the man above and his dogs, I still wanted a bit more nature and no people if possible so I could be totally alone my thoughts. I was doing some big daydreaming yesterday as I mentioned here and I didn’t want to have to stay alert to the passing bell sounds of cyclists approaching from behind or to have to break concentration to give a customary greeting or head nod to others on the trail. On days like these when I need more room, it helps to know which direction to go or at least have a sense of adventure about discovering the less traveled places.

Now that’s more like it …

… just me, the trees, and the river.

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One Benefit Of Line Drying – No More Lost Socks

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You have to love having someone around who is still young enough to enjoy the chores most of us would easily never do again if someone agreed to take them off our hands. Now before you go thinking I was trying to turn Jersey Girl into Cinderella last week, she volunteered to help her Bapa (John) out when he had some washing to do.

Photo by John Winchurch

In fact, she seemed to like the process so much there was little left unwashed when she went home to Jersey last Friday. I think her favorite part was hanging the wash on the line. She had quite the system right from the beginning and not surprising a few things emerged during our discussion around issues frequently found in maintaining a clean wardrobe.

Chief subject of interest, you guessed it … disappearing socks. It seems despite the geographic boundaries of another country, here, as in America, dryers, referred to in the UK as tumble dryers, still eat socks. Jersey Girl mentioned that this had happened in the past with one of her grandmothers who had managed to solve this problem by pinning her socks together before they were washed and dried. It turns out that grandmother has one of those sock-eating tumble dryers in her home.

I told Jersey Girl that I had discovered that the secret to safe-guarding socks from a mysterious and confusing shortage was to hang all washing on the line. It’s the absolute truth and no matter what you might say about the hassles of line drying, not only does it save money and energy, you don’t end up with solo socks whose mates have gone on walkabout deep into the Devil’s Triangle we call a tumble dryer.

Don’t believe me … I dare you to give it a try for a few weeks and see what you think. Oh, and don’t forget to check your energy bills at the end of the month to see what you saved, in addition to possibly your favorite pair of socks.

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This post was inspired in part by my fairly frugal husband John and his granddaughter Jersey Girl and also by Donna Freedman and the money-saving tips found at her new space here and her regular MSN Money home here.

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Going Nowhere In Particular

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Sometimes when you look outside the window and you see the sky is a brilliant shade of blue for the first time in days, you feel the need to get out even though you have no idea where you want to go. So you slip on your shoes or you tie up the laces of your boots and you grab your camera and head out the door.  Saturday was just such a day … want to see where we went?

John is going on ahead as usual while I hang back to photograph a few macro shots of spring flowers. The forest is full of varying shades of green right now as the leaves are still coming out. Everything seems to be a bit late in the blooming probably due to our colder than normal winter.

Up ahead you have a choice in direction … take the left fork and go up a hill deeper into the woods or …

… if you continue on the main path you begin to see a special place for us. Can you see the sheep through the trees?

The light was perfect as we caught sight of the buttercup field.

Stepping into the meadow, we could see some bluebells to our right near the river’s edge.

As John was walking into the buttercup field, I told him I almost expected to see Thomas Hardy walking towards us with Tess trailing behind him.

I thought I we might spy Elizabeth Bennet out for a walk with her sisters just ahead, but John and I were the only two legged creatures around as we passed by the fat sheep munching in the meadow.

We discovered the reason for the lengthy ringing of the church bells earlier in the day when we saw the flowers arranged over the doorway to our parish church. Notice that someone cut the grass, but only part of it for some reason, making it look as if like they might have stopped for a break and not come back to finish the job.

The mix of flowers above the doorway was really lovely and I almost expected to see Marianne coming out on the arm of Colonel Brandon.

Inside were more flowers including a circlet around each of the pillars.

The flowers were a delightful mix of wild and cultivated providing a few photo opportunities.

I can never resist shooting from outside in even if the panes of old glass are a bit in need of a wash. I love the reflected surprises that can show up later when reviewing them.

After church, we stopped by the pub for a pint. I had my usual diet lemonade (like diet Sprite) while John sampled the special of the day.

If we didn’t live within walking distance, perhaps we might have talked the owner of this classic MG into giving us a lift home. Notice the church in the background … the white cottage in front of it is for sale if you’re interested in relocating or having a holiday home in Cornwall.

We’re having perfect weather again today and I’m off in a minute. Where am I going you may ask … nowhere in particular would have to be my reply, but it’s sure to be good wherever my feet lead me.

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What A Day!

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Jubilee Rock – Bodmin Moor – My Girl

What a day, what a day, remember that check list of places and things I wanted to share with Miranda … here are a few images from yesterday.

Helland Bridge

Lavethan Wood   (Photograph by Miranda)

We also managed to take in a bit of the Camel Trail on foot and we walked through the buttercup field which is a little low on buttercups as it’s still early for them. Lunch was fish & chips at Rick Stein’s in Padstow, a meal and a port town we’ve been trying to get to all week and after a little sightseeing and shopping, we were off to an antique store in another town that I had mentioned earlier and she’d wanted to see.

Last stop was the library because it was that time again and after a quick trip to the pub where we had hoped to catch sight of some darling puppies, we headed for home where we finished off our day with a knitting lesson for me. Whew!

The best part of it all was we had a great time even though it was such a busy day. Miranda was both interested and a good sport as we went from place to place and at some point began to say, Helland Bridge … check, Camel Trail … check, Lavethan Wood  … check, but in a cute way that made me think she was glad to have a chance to see more of the places in person that I’ve been writing and talking about over the last two years.

I’m giving her a wake-up call in a few minutes because today’s another day and we’re off to see Stonehenge! Guess who’s driving …

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Get The Handcuffs Out – I’ve Been A Bad Girl

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On the morning of the London Marathon, John and I stopped by a Burger King at the Waterloo train station for a coffee and a little breakfast sandwich. I grabbed some napkins like I always do especially when I think it might be a messy meal and went upstairs where we found a table with a great view of the station.  At one point during breakfast I happened to glance across the room to see the sign below hanging all big and bold on the wall right in front of me.

After a read through, I looked at the table where I had dropped the napkins when we sat down.

Taking a quick count, I had nine on the table and I thought … whew, not as bad as all that until I looked down in my lap to see napkin number ten.

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Going Solo – Road Tripping In Southwest England

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Yesterday was a day of exploration for me. Since moving to Cornwall I’ve not had the same need to be in the drivers seat as I previously did in the US. This change in position from driver to passenger and the ease at which I made the transition surprised me having been somewhat controlling when it came to driving in the past.

My previous career in pharmaceutical sales kept me on the road daily for years and I’ve driven back and forth across the US and as far north and south as you can go on several occasions with all manner of short trips in between. I drove for a couple of years on the German autobahn with no set speed limits in my late teens and early twenties while stationed there during my army tour of duty.

Having been to the UK three times before meeting my husband John, I had a rental car each time where I was the designated driver. While much of that driving was limited to the wide open spaces of the western part of  Scotland, I did make the trip twice from Isle of Skye to a London airport covering a distance of 650 miles, all while sitting on would normally be the passenger’s side of the car, while driving on what would be considered the wrong side of the road in America.

And did I say, the car has a manual transmission as many do here and because I sit on the right side to drive, I have to shift with my left hand. It’s not as hard as I thought it might be, but you can see why I was content to enjoy the ride with John behind the wheel.

So you have to wonder with all of that driving experience, why make such a big to-do about yesterday’s excursion. My solo road trip was important because it was the first time since moving here that I drove alone and for such a long way. I’ve done a few trips alone of five miles or less and I know that thirty miles isn’t really that far, but this trip had me pointed in an unfamiliar direction as I made my way to a village in Devon to meet up with a new friend.

Armella, is an American who lives in St Louis with her British husband. Over the last few years she has done an amazing renovation on a property that she and her husband inherited from family. After finding me through an Expat Blog site, she sent an email a few months ago and yesterday, I fastened my seatbelt and went for a little ride … alone.

It was actually pretty easy once I got underway. I did make a wrong turn at one point, but followed my intuition until I found my way to the pretty little village where Armella and I met for lunch at the White Hart Inn and Pub. I also had a chance to see the work she’s had done on the property during a tour of the rental house before her new tenant moves in a few days.

I didn’t take any photographs of the rental property as there was scaffolding blocking much of it with work being done to an outside wall, but I do have one or two of Cardinal Kiss Cottage named for a love of the St Louis Cardinals, and the three x’s on the outside wall that offer additional wall support. After one of her renovation folks referred to the x’s as kisses, she decided kiss should be part of the new name.

Armella will be back and forth from the US to the UK for a while as she isn’t quite ready to retire to Devon yet, but after spending only a short while with her I could tell it’s only a matter of time before she’ll be one of my more permanent neighbors.

Cardinal Kiss Cottage (See the Church to the right)

Notice the river that runs past the cottage, you’d never guess that CKC was an abattoir before it became a holiday home for Armella and her husband.

The upstairs window in the bedroom.

The amazing view from the window above.

St Bridget’s Church Bridestowe

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London Marathon 2010 – Oh My Aching Feet

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Let me begin by saying that while I have run several marathons in the past, I watched this one from the sidelines on Sunday. John and I went to London a few days ago to watch his eldest daughter run in the London Marathon. She did really well finishing with a great time proving that proper training can make for a better race. We walked all over the race course covering at least 13 to 14 miles ourselves hoping to catch a glimpse of her, but with no luck.

Normally, I could cover this much ground without repercussions, but my shoes let me down badly making me miserable after about 7 miles. I had worn them before for city treks, but I was nursing big blisters on the balls of both feet by the time we made it back to the hotel. Ouch!

It was pretty exciting to be on the spectator side and be able to snap photographs and shout encouragement to the runners. Tower bridge was packed with people and I had trouble getting high enough to snap exactly what I wanted unlike this guy who was way up high on the bridge.

Not everyone was watching the race. I caught the guy below catching up on some email.

I ran out of water during our London walk about unlike the runners below who seemed to have a sip and then toss the rest. During races in the US, water is usually in an open cup making it easier and less wasteful than the bottles that Nestle was giving to runners.

Although there were crowds everywhere,

the London police ( in yellow) had things well under control …

making sure everyone who wanted to … could make it to this location …

or this one if you needed medical help.

This time I was glad to be like this little guy, watching from the sidelines.

Unlike this one though, I was too tired from walking all day to have much appetite.

After it was over, you could spot the runners sporting shirts with LonDone on it and hear people saying in passing to them, well done!

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Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

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People are always asking me if I find things very different having moved from the US to live in the UK. I go on about tumble dryers and food differences and of course the ways in which American English differs from British.

What really amazes me though and honestly sometimes catches me by surprise are moments like this one yesterday when I walked into a shop to see this sleeping dog lounging on the sofa. Clearly used to calling the space his own, he barely budged when I took a series of photographs until I moved in a bit closer to give him a little pat on the nose.

All of a sudden I began to smell the worst odor and thought at first that it might be coming from the now awake pooch. I thought surely the noxious smell could not have come from this cutie. There was a very large Irish Setter on a leash sitting a few feet away while the two women it was with were looking at the ceramic lamps on sale and I glanced over at it suspiciously.

I’m not sure why I decided it had to be the big red dog sending out the toxic fumes, but as the two women with him moved away to another part of the shop, I hurried out to meet my husband John who was waiting for me at the start of the path that would take us back to our car. He was walking in front when I heard a noise behind me and turned to see a woman with what looked like the dog I had photographed only a few minutes before as it lay splayed out on the sofa.

We stepped to one side of the narrow path so the woman and dog could pass and I said to John that I thought that had been the dog I had caught napping. A few seconds later an overpoweringly familiar stench hit my nose and I knew that I was looking at the moving backside of the odoriferous culprit whose sleep I had disturbed in the village shop giving a new meaning to the old adage, ” let sleeping dogs lie. “

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Moving It Outside When You Feel Stuck

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When I am trying to write a story and get stuck in a particular place I find the best and most helpful solution is to take it outside. Lately, I have been mulling over a missing transition piece in a novel that I am trying to transfer from my imagination to the hard drive of my Mac.

Most of it so far as been fairly easy, flowing like a river after a rainstorm, fast and furious leave me no choice but to hang on and see where the momentum wants to carry me. In the last week or so the river has slowed and forked off in several directions leaving me at the mouth of the tributary trying to look far enough ahead to see which branch to follow. My arms are getting tired of rowing in place so I am moving my  ‘office’ outside today to see if I can decide on a direction and get back to some forward motion.

In a few hours, I will be headed to Lanhydrock which never fails to inspire. I’ll be carrying my camera, a notepad, and a thermos full of hot coffee and will hopefully return with a more complete map of the river and sense of direction … story direction that is, because I know where I am going even if my characters don’t.

Here are a few pictures of what today’s office will offer as a workspace taken from a visit last year. If you wish to share tips as to what works for you when you feel stuck, I love to see your thoughts in a comment below.