A Room Of One’s Own – Week 11 – Update

September 25, 2009 by Elizabeth Harper

Can you believe we have been living with dust and disruption for 11 weeks? So far no one’s gotten snappish, grouchy, or stroppy as John would say. Stroppy and cross are popular expressions here and might be used in this way,

” Don’t get cross with me….” Or ” Someone’s being a bit stroppy…” which might translate to ” Boy are you a grouch!”

All remains peaceful here despite my tendency to be messy one day and tidy the next. I’m generally a bit scattered with my stuff, but in fairness I don’t have a study to tuck it away into like John although his study has some of my things that arrived on this day stored in there too. My boxes are everywhere and so are our clothes, which are currently scattered throughout the study, guest room and the attic (loft) since we’ve vacated our bedroom during the renovation. Enough of this housekeeping chatter…here are the pictures from this week.

You can see a change in the pictures for today in that the wardrobe (closet) that John built last week is no longer there. We decided it didn’t look right once the bedroom lost a few feet to the corridor (hallway) so he shifted it back to the original space before the work began. It’s about the same length only now it’s slightly more narrow. It’s plenty deep enough and will be able to hold his chest of drawers, but it will run the length of the wall now.

This closet repositioning means we have had to change in the style of the new bed we had picked out because the closet takes up a bit of the bedside table space. We found a perfect remedy for this online this morning and I love the new bed frame we picked out.

Look to the left of John’s elbow (sorry for the bad picture) to see the closet he put in and then ripped out.

It’s one mirrored door and one solid one off to the left.

Here’s another view. (Sorry about the post being in the way)

This is the corridor (hallway) that took some of the bedroom width with it.

John putting up the plasterboard (sheetrock)

Rebuilding the wardrobe (closet)

Looking down the corridor (door to bedroom on left)

Just so you don’t think all I do is sit at my computer…that’s me giving the house a coat of paint last Saturday

John caught me with painting with my tongue sticking out (necessary for concentration)

Stop by on Sunday to see a little birthday blog I have planned for John if you get a minute. I’ll be baking his cake tomorrow. Thanks to everyone who sent me a carrot cake recipe, I’ll post the results after his birthday on Sunday.

A Room Of One’s Own – Week 6 – Update

August 21, 2009 by Elizabeth Harper

I will begin with a picture because that is what today’s post will contain for the most part. As you can see Brian and Bob moved inside after last week. They finished up the outside with a Tyrolean finish and it looks great. The color is slightly brighter, but that’s okay because John wanted to freshen the paint on the rest of the house anyway.

You can see here where the ceiling is going up along with the scattered bits waiting to be used or carted off.

Here’s the truck that carried away the skip.

Brian is plastering over the Artex ceiling that is sadly in all of the rooms. I like it well enough in a few places, but the overall effect tends to make the rooms look smaller and dated. Although this house was built in the 90’s, Artex, the popular finishing method for ceilings in the 70’s has covered the ceilings in all of the rooms until now.

Bob is making sure the plaster is mixed and ready as Brian needs it. This part has to be done properly or it doesn’t matter how good the person is applying it to the ceiling. They did a really great job covering the Artex and John is pleased every time he looks at the new ceiling.

Brian and Bob were gracious enough to give me one more photograph before they wrapped things up here for a while. When they began this project, the back garden looked like this nestled between the back of the house and the garage.

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Before

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After

Brian and Bob will be away working on another project for bit while John frames out the walls and get all the plumbing and electrical pieces in order. Then B & B will be back to put up the plasterboard (or sheet rock) and finish off the walls and ceiling with plaster. John will do the tile in the bathrooms and put down the hardwood floors throughout the addition and the master bedroom.

That’s it for this week. Come back next week to check on us. We’ll still be here shuffling around in the dust.

What Remains

July 10, 2009 by Elizabeth Harper

1948 Bringing In The Milk

A young boy about 7 or 8 walks with his little brother as they follow the tall man into the garage to see what waits inside. Watching intently, he listens as his cousin seventeen years his senior explains patiently and carefully that the boat they’re standing in front of is a varnished, clinker built, sailing dinghy. The boy has never seen one this close before, but he knows from the excitement in his cousin’s voice that this is very special to him. He listens and tries to remember as this kind man takes time to explain the purpose and names of the riggings and fittings. His little brother fidgets beside him too young to absorb much of what is being said. Only 3, his brother won’t remember this day, but later he’ll help his older brother as they build the first of two dinghies when they are only 9 and 13. When they’re grown men, they’ll each buy their own sailboats, but still sail together at times, as they explore the Cornish coastline not too from the Bristol Channel where they first rowed the dinghy they built together as children.

Two Lads In The Dinghy Built In 1956

John Winchurch 1956

Mom Takes A Ride In The New Dinghy With David

It’s this early childhood memory that John will recall 6o years later when he stands before about 30 or so of his cousin Michael’s family and friends as they gather together to share stories of this erudite man whose sense of humor generally made him the life and soul of any party. After his memorial service, they’ll all gather round to look at the photographs that various people will bring to share. Most will contain images of Michael, some from 50 years ago like the one below when he served as best man at the marriage of John Collins and his late wife.

Michael J. Bench - Best Man - 1959 (Far Left In Photo)

After sharing his childhood memory of Michael, John will listen with great interest as John Collins, the groom above tells him how he met Michael when they were architecture students and how together with another friend they’d bought the dinghy that Michael had shown the boys in the garage all those years ago. John Collins will say he was interested to hear the dinghy mentioned during the memorial service and he how he can’t quite remember what happened to it. He’ll also add how it came to be in that particular garage when the three of them owned it jointly. Being students still, Michael was the only one with a place to store it and so it was there… tucked in the garage of Michael’s parents, Auntie Millie and Uncle Horace when John and his brother David visited the Bench family around 1948.

John And Cousin Mary, Remembering With Michael's Friends

This picture probably more than any other reminds me of the day and how in the end what remains are the memories and stories we share. Michael was well loved and there were many conversations as we talked and talked lingering even as we moved towards our cars reluctant to have the day be at an end. Mary was not really interested in being photographed as so many of us are particularly as we get older, but this sweet photograph of her alone is one I just had to share because with her brother Michael’s recent death and the loss of their younger brother two years ago, in their circle of three, she is what remains now.

Mary Bench Levack

Primroses & Powershots

March 24, 2009 by Elizabeth Harper

I thought I’d show you a little of what goes on behind the scenes here at Gifts Of The Journey and I need to say now…it isn’t always pretty. I’m almost never without a camera of some kind. It could be my iPhone or my Nikon D200, but more often than not it’s my Canon Powershot G9. Last week, I was running through the churchyard on my way to what I refer to as the buttercup field, when I was overwhelmed by a carpet of flowers that seemed to have popped out almost overnight. There were primroses everywhere I looked blanketing the ground like a patchwork quilt. I had my iPhone with me, but I wanted to get a higher quality picture so I went on with my run, but cut it a bit short to get back to the house to pick up my Canon. It was a perfect weather day, but given how it can be sunny one minute and dark and rainy the next, I didn’t want to take any chances and I barely paused as I told John what I was up to while running in and out for the camera. He said he would walk down and join me in a few minutes and showed up a little later with his own camera. Here’s a bit of what he captured of me that day along with the bottom three which are my images.

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I didn’t realize until later that I had been so excited about getting the photographs that I wanted that I’d forgotten to take out my earphones even though I wasn’t listening to music. See below…

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Remember what I said about it’s not always pretty….well here goes..

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Would you like to see what I was trying to get a decent shot of back in the shadows?

I think it’s one of the oldest gravestones in the churchyard, but I don’t have info on it yet.

These are two more of my photos from that morning…

This churchyard is one of my favorites in Cornwall and much to my surprise, there are a few Harpers buried there. No relation I’m sure, but interesting to see my name among the gravestones.

Compliments Of The Chef

March 9, 2009 by Elizabeth Harper

Today’s post is a bit like a party platter appetizer that you might order at your favorite restaurant. Picture a large platter laid out with all the yummy things you selected when you placed your order. Perhaps you’ve been thinking about this sampler of snacks for a few days because you’ve been to this restaurant before and you know the chef always tries to whip up new and unusual things to delight the palate. At this little eatery, the chef likes to send out new bite size bits of goodness that she’s been working on in the kitchen where she stays busy thinking about all the creations she’d like to whip up to tempt the regular visitors who keep coming back for a bit of sustenance. So for today, in addition to those of you who placed an order, you may get a little something extra, compliments of the chef.

Compliments must be paid to those who placed their order a few days ago and provided the chef with the key ingredients needed to complete today’s meal. If you read my previous post, the chef had too many good things lying around the kitchen and was overwhelmed to the point of inertia with all the combinations that were possible. Carolyn was kind enough to offer some direction as well as much appreciated words of support. Jean echoed some of Carolyn’s kind comments and offered some additional direction and Riley in typical Riley fashion, was brief and to the point. Just this morning… Kim, a later arrival added a bit to the mix of suggestions and helped as well in guiding the direction of the story. I so appreciate all of their thoughts and hope todays post will be pleasing in both flavor and presentation.

Bon Appetit!

The Ring

The Ring

Towards our last day in Paris, John and I were walking near the Seine enjoying the last of our honeymoon while trying to get to the Orsay which is housed in a former railway station and one of my very favorite museums in the world. It’s small enough to enjoy without feeling lost or overwhelmed, but large enough to contain a variety of artists that I always like to revisit. Having talked about my desire to share the Orsay with John for the whole of our Paris experience, I was beginning to be concerned that we would run out of time so I was really excited when after a hearty breakfast and several cups of strong black coffee, we began to make or way in the direction of the Orsay. I’m sure we had a bit of a tourist look about us, pausing to photograph more than a local might on a bright morning during the work week. Having traveled a great deal, I think we would both say we are pretty street smart. It was not our “smarts” though that saved us that morning, but rather a sense of doing the right thing. We were targeted for a common scam in Paris when we were approached by a plumpish woman with a gold ring in her hand. She claimed she had found it on the ground and said we should take it for luck. We said no thank you that it wasn’t ours and walked away thinking that what looked like a large gold wedding band for a man was a good find for her and sad loss for someone else. Walking on we hadn’t gone far when we were approached while taking pictures on the bridge pictured below by a second woman with another gold ring. She was a younger version of the other woman dressed as the previous one in a large orange sweatshirt. We had a good laugh as we shook our head and walked away not even bothering to pause for her story of the found ring.
The picture of the man on the bridge was taken from a good distance away. Even though I travel with a small camera, my Canon Powershot G9 is pretty good at picking up the details with the telephoto feature. When returned home to Cornwall, I found pages of sites on the internet that refer to the Paris gold ring scam including a site here that actually shows the very bridge and the back of a woman in orange that looks like one of the women who approached us. I forgot to mention that the gold ring is actually brass despite the gold stamp inside and in return for accepting this valuable “found” item the person offering it to you will expect a bit of money in return which I read seemed on average to be about 10 euros. It was funny to see just how long this has been going on and makes you wonder how many people were surprised to find they’d brought home a souvenir brass ring from their Paris vacation.

Woman With The Ring

The Door Knob

The Door Knob

Paris is a place where if you walk a lot and need to find a bathroom or as some here England might say a loo, then chances are you may find you’ll have to pay to use the facility. On the day that John and I made our way to the Louvre, I stopped at a place tucked off to the left in the picture below that had a bathroom worth paying for.

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After handing over the equivalent of about 50 cents, I walked down several steps to a long hallway and into a space that seemed as if it had been a bridge underpass at one time before being converted into a tidy restroom with 8 to 10 floor to ceiling enclosures that were tight little boxes of privacy each containing a clean toilet. Always one to appreciate privacy in such situations, I chose a door almost as far as I could get from the front entrance. The place was empty at the time I was there except for one person I heard in a stall a few feet away. When I closed the door to the one I selected, I noticed that the twist knob was a bit hard to turn, but never one to give up easily, I assumed it was just a bit tight and gave it an extra hard twist and it locked without any further issue. Afterwards, when I twisted the knob to leave, I had a little surprise. My doorknob appeared to be stuck. I tried a variety of ways to get it to turn, but it would not budge. With the male attendant way down a hall and outside the door of the Ladies room, I was forced to bang on the door and shout in order to draw enough attention to bring the attendant down to free me. Let’s just say it took longer than should have for a woman making as much noise as I was. By the time he arrived, I was totally alone in the bathroom. Poor John had been standing outside freezing, wondering what was taking so long and oddly enough afterwards didn’t seem to think it that strange that I’d been trapped in the loo. The day after this we went back by again and I stopped for a quick toilet break and discovered on my return that I had unknowing chosen a lock the day before that was broken. You can see by the two photographs, what the lock should look like versus the broken lock that I thought was just a futuristic shape.

A Working Lock

The man who freed me from the locked loo never said a word…he didn’t even make eye contact and when I went back the next day he wasn’t there nor was there even a sign on the door saying broken lock…don’t use.

The Cat

The Cat

I tend to spend a good deal of time walking around in cemeteries especially when I travel. It’s not for everybody, but I love to take my camera and spend hours watching and photographing the light changes that shift across the stone tributes to the dead. A vacation almost always includes a visit to a local cemetery and I’ve been fortunate to be able visit a variety of locations and capture some of the unique styles of cemetery art that exist around the world. Sometimes these visits offer something new or an unexpected experience that adds to the events of the day. One of the most unusual was when I had to resort to bribery with a gatekeeper in Peru to get a good look at a locked cemetery where I photographed some of my favorite gravestone images like the one below.

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During my visit to Pere Lachaise where I had gone to leave my wedding bouquet with Abelard and Heloise, I came across something I’d never seen among the gravestones before. The yellow tabby cat you see in the pictures below appeared to be living there. When I first approached her with my camera she was rolling around on top of a crypt and as I got closer she popped up and came toward me with such speed she startled me a bit. I later witnessed her enjoying a snack three graves over from Jim Morrison’s tiny and disappointingly ordinary grave and I decided she had rushed to meet me because she expected food.

In fact when I reach out empty handed to touch her, she quickly bit my hand, but got only a mouthful of leather glove. From the looks of the space around Morrison’s grave it appears he still has a steadfast groupie albeit a slightly fuzzier one than he was used to in life. His human fans still visit as well and leave behind mementos…it seems that these are the people who feed the cat. So if you’re making the trek to Pere Lachaise, stop by Morrison’s grave and look for the orange tabby cat which surprisingly resembles the most well known American tabby, Morris the cat. Funny isn’t it ..the similarity between the names Morris and Morrison…hmmmm.

Jim Morrison's Grave

Morris The Cat?

Help!

Help!

John and I were walking along the Seine on day two of our honeymoon when we began to hear the sounds of police and other emergency vehicles getting closer and closer. As we walked on we saw police along the river who were actually stopping some cars and motorbikes that appeared headed in the direction of the sirens. Suddenly we were close enough to see a couple of what seemed to be bundles in the water being carried by the current and a large commercial barge loaded with tourists who all appeared to be photographing some event a bit out of our viewing range.

Walking on we quickly came upon what was clearly a water rescue as you can see by a few of the photo’s I snapped. I held my breath as I watched medical personal work on what seemed to be a drowning victim. After a few minutes, they backed away from the prone man and began to strip his wet clothes off right where he lay on the stone walk by the river’s edge. They wrapped him in a shiny blanket designed to maximize body heat and after watching for a few more minutes we walked on assured that the man was alive and breathing. I tried to find more of the rescue online when we returned home, but was unable to discover if the man survived.

A Favorite Place

A Favorite Moment

My Very Own Version Of Planes, Trains, And Automobiles

February 25, 2009 by Elizabeth Harper

Picking up from my last post, we did arrive at the local train station and found that we could all ride the same train together at least for a little while. First we had to wait… and some of us were less than happy with this.

The purchase of a little snack made us all feel a bit better.

Here comes the train…and we’re off!

Crossing the Tamar estuary on Brunel’s historic bridge as viewed from the window of train number one. After a short ride, we said goodbye to John’s daughter and granddaughter waving them off as their 2nd train departed. In these next three photographs, I’m in the reflection you see in the window outside of the train saying goodbye while John’s granddaughter’s little face is looking back at us through the window from inside the train.

Me with my backpack and my wedding bouquet…it looks like I’m blowing kisses.

A Last Look Back

We boarded our next train and then dashed to our bus before arriving at the airport and our plane which fortunately was delayed by the weather. After they deiced the plane, we were on our way to our honeymoon destination…the city of love…Paris!

I’ll be back tomorrow with more, but let me leave you with a challenge…can anyone out there guess why I took the flowers below with me to Paris…leave me a comment with your thoughts and I’ll announce who gets it right first.

Hi Ho, Hi Ho, It’s Through The Snow We Go

February 24, 2009 by Elizabeth Harper

The morning after the BIG snow!

Snowy Self Portrait

Okay, maybe it wasn’t really a big snow to some of you out there and I’ll admit when I lived in Oswego NY for two winters, I had a chance to see snow measured in feet not inches, but for Cornwall…this was a good bit of ground cover. If you read yesterday’s post, you saw the picture I took of John’s daughter and granddaughter walking down a snowy road as they hiked out of the village. The goal was to walk the 2+ miles from the house on the hill to the main road to meet a taxi at a pre-set time.

You may have noticed that I was standing a fair distance from where they were when I took the photograph. It wasn’t because I decided it would make a great shot and so decided to hang out and wait for it, but because I was running to try to catch up. When I came in from my big hike alone through the snow, John told me that his younger daughter and granddaughter were walking out and that we should go with them. I hadn’t even packed yet thinking that I would have time to before we left especially with our previous plan to drive to Bristol to catch our plane. John asked if I could be ready in 30 minutes or less.

Grabbing our backpacks from the attic so we could carry our stuff out on our backs, we began to toss things in fairly quickly. I was moving so fast, I could barely think about what I needed to take. As we were packing, they set out ahead of us because it was a long way through the snow for a 4 year old. John followed them not long after with his backpack and a small duffel bag with some of their things in it. I was the last to leave as I was running around trying to shut down my computer and be sure I had all of the camera gear I might need. I forgot my boots, but I managed to make it with everything else.

As I was running out the door to catch up with the three of them, I grabbed my bridal bouquet on the way out. I attached it to my backpack and took off running down one hill and up another in an attempt to catch up. As I ran, slipping and sliding on the snowy street, I scooted past John to get close enough to snap this photograph. My bouquet dropped off my backpack as I ran past him and I actually ran on a few yards before I realized it had fallen. Running back, I scooped it up and ran on with a camera in one hand and my wedding flowers in the other. I’m sure I was a sight pounding up the hill with a pack on my back and something in each hand.

The Long Walk Out

We were on the other side of this bridge heading up yet one more icy hill when an angel in a four wheel drive stopped and offered us a ride to the main road where we were meeting our taxi. After Matt, (our burly angel) moved a few things around, we all squeezed in and began to make our way through the snow. A quick phone call gave the taxi driver notice to meet us a bit earlier and on arriving at the drop off point, we had an opportunity to pay back some karmic goodwill by pushing a stuck car out of a drift.

I’m wearing the brown coat with the light blue jeans and John is to my right. The taxi arrived just after his daughter snapped this photograph as we pushed the car onto the main road. Once we were in the taxi, I caught this curious look on John’s granddaughter’s face. I imagine she was thinking, ” What is with this woman and that camera!”

I’ll leave you here now with us all packed into a taxi hoping that we can make it to the closest train station. Come back tomorrow if you’d like to join us for the next leg of our journey.

Three Weeks Ago Today…

February 23, 2009 by Elizabeth Harper

Three weeks ago today John and I were doing this….

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It began to snow just as our reception was coming to a close and when John and I went on a walk later that night things were being to look a bit like this…

Is it just me or does anyone else see a shape in the photograph below?

What began as a few flakes became this by morning. I grabbed my camera and headed out early for a quick walk and a few photographs before the rest of house was up and out. Remember, we had wedding guests who’d slept over as the roads had not been drivable the evening before. I was excited and worried about all the snow since we had a honeymoon flight to Paris scheduled for that day. Not wanting to miss the early morning light and the fresh snow I drank a quick cup of coffee, pulled on my wellies and headed out.

The Buttercup Field In Winter

Our Parish Church

As I passed by the parish church again on my way back home, I saw that the roads were still icy and cars were not yet able drive out of our village due to the amount of hills where we live. When I arrived home, John said that his younger daughter had decided to try to walk out of the village and up to a motor way where she could arrange for a cab to meet her and her 4 year old daughter. Her plan was to try make it to a train station and on to the flight they had scheduled to return to their home. John and I had tickets to fly out of Bristol to Paris later that day for our honeymoon so we knew if we were going to make it, we would need to hike out as well. I’ll be back tomorrow to tell you more of our post wedding adventures, but for now…here’s a little preview.

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Walking The Saints Way – When Living Your Life Gets In The Way Of Writing About It

February 22, 2009 by Elizabeth Harper

Three guesses as to what I’ve been doing instead of writing. John and I like to spend a fair amount of time walking the coast path here in Cornwall. We went out for a little walk on Friday and it wasn’t until four hours later that we headed for home. Additionally, I had a few projects drop into my lap that have required my creative attention and life has just gotten in the way of my blogging. I want to take a minute to share some photographs from our walk along the south coast path toward Polkerris and The Gribbin a few days ago so you can see a bit more of my world through my eyes.

After leaving our car in the car park we set off in the direction of Pokerris and the Gribbin, with part of our walk taking us along The Saint’s Way which is clearly marked with signs like the one below.

Marker For The Saint's Way

As you can see above we hiked for most of the time with a heavy sea mist all around us.

Warning!

Danger In The Mist

Sea Loving Dog Walking The Wall

The Saint's Way Footpath

Not all paths along the way are scenic…some pass right through farms right near the cows and through the muck.

Mind Your Step!

The Newlyweds 2009

This last photo below is taken around the same time last year in the same location as the one above.

John & Elizabeth 2008

Everyone’s A Wedding Photographer

February 17, 2009 by Elizabeth Harper

My handsome husband was a bit put off by the idea of hiring a wedding photographer for our ceremony two weeks ago. It seems the idea of having a professional wedding photographer to capture the best moments of our day made him uneasy. I think he thought having someone with pro equipment snapping and flashing in his direction might make him more the center of attention than the title of bridegroom already conferred. Now for anyone who’s been to my old site at http://www.giftsofthejourney.com you may have noticed that I’ve photographed a few weddings myself. It’s one of the ways I earned my living in America and something I’ll be doing here as soon as I am approved for work by immigration.

Let me show you what happens when you tell a woman who photographs other people’s weddings that we’ll skip that part of the wedding planning and just let our guests snap a few of us instead. Actually, I think I did pretty good job of letting go of my camera for the day….well almost.

Bride Grabs Camera On Wedding Day

I’ve been very fortunate to marry into a family of women who know how capture a good moment and with this many shutters snapping, you’ve got a good chance of getting something that works. John’s idea though…the one where no pro photographer equals no posing for a bunch of photographs… well, toss that idea right out the window.

Winchurch Women Turn Paparazzi (Photo by T.R. Cross)

Almost everyone came with a camera of some kind. John’s younger daughter was gracious enough to take control of some of my gear and she used my Nikon D200 like a pro.

Handling It

Here’s some of her work.

John Winchurch & Elizabeth Harper 2-2-09

I have to thank Tina (T.R. Cross) for her work as well. She did a great job with my Canon Powershot G9 and a couple of other cameras that she happened to be handed from time to time.

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Here are a few more photographers pressed into action for the day including John’s firstborn who appears to be taking tips from Tina, but is quite handy on her own with a camera. The rest and there were more… seemed to have escaped being photographed with a camera in their hand.

Our Youngest Photographer (Age 4)

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Some mixed images from that day.

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This is John’s grandmother’s knife that he saved from his dad’s tool chest years ago where he’d been using it to open paint cans. John rescued it and cleaned it up and has been using it on a daily basis ever since. It seemed appropriate to me to use a knife with so many years of history to slice in our wedding cake and add a bit more memories to the old blade.

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Last one…signing the registry book of weddings.

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