Tag Archives: John Winchurch

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When Friends Come To Visit Part II- Climbing Rough Tor

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As I continue sharing our three-day visit with friends David and Steven, I want to show you our trip to Rough Tor. David took the photo above as we struck out for Rough Tor.

John went on with ahead with Steven while I lagged behind a bit with David as he and I took time to snap a few photos along the way. The three images below were taken by John. In the one just below you can see two tiny dots in the center. ( click to enlarge )

In the image underneath you can see the tiny dots a bit better. I am the dot on the left and David is the one on the right.

Do you recognize the pile of stones below? Oh wait, there’s someone missing … look at my border at the top and you’ll see me standing on the same pile of rocks. Steven has long appreciated that photograph and wanted his photograph taken there above all else during his visit to Cornwall. Due to the fierce wind and the slipperiness of the wet rocks he had to use another stone as a stand-in.

See the rock above David’s head (he’s in the blue jacket ) … that’s the one Steven wanted to stand on.

Even I didn’t want to risk it this time, but I did slip my shoes off to climb up on the one next to it on the back side. (two photos below) Can you see the moorland pony down left of Steven … it’s a long way down from the top of the rock. (click to enlarge)

After I slipped off my shoes, I felt much more secure climbing up the back side of the rocks below. My neglected rock climbing skills came in handy and I’m glad I was still in shape ( hah!) well, at least well enough to get as high I did below.

Yep … that’s me. The wind was wicked.

From my lofty advantage I managed to get a photo of John ( ant-sized figure in the center)  as he was taking pictures of me.

Did you find John? He’s down there with his arms outstretched. I had to step back to show you the cool impression carved out by weather on the rock .

Here’s a photo of me with Steven after I came down off the rock. I’m wet and bedraggled from wind and rain along with still being barefoot.

Steven & David

John did a bit of climbing himself.

I think by the time this one was taken John was ready to go.

I couldn’t resist finishing with David and his runaway brolly. It’s a long way down although easier than the climb up and about halfway back to the car David decided he’d had enough of the rain and decided to find his own cover. His umbrella clearly had other plans.

I’ll be back with more later if you’re interested. Sunday took us to St. Michael’s Mount for a service in a church built in the 14th century and I have some good pictures from our last day to share with you.

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When Friends Come To Visit

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John & Elizabeth - Bedruthan Steps - August 2010

When friends come to visit you have an opportunity to see things a bit differently than you normally might. John and I have had our picture taken here before, but only on a self-timer. When my friends David and Steven arrived last Friday from Atlanta by way of London, we had a chance to see ourselves through someone else’s eyes.

I love the picture above that Steven took of us at Bedruthan Steps. You may remember that this is the spot John took me to right after I stepped off the plane in Cornwall when we first met face to face on Valentine’s Day in 2008. Below is the picture that preceded the one above where John is looking a bit sweet and bashful.

There were a series of others like this where the spontaneity could not have been captured using the self-timer on my camera and I’m glad Steven was there to snag them. We managed to squeeze a lot of the Cornish experience into their visit beginning with a lunch of pasties made by me. David took the three pasty pictures below.

Steven & David

You can’t see it very well, but Steven and David are holding up score cards giving my pasties a 10 and a 9. They were playing around, but they did eat every bite so I think they really liked them. I also made two blackberry/apple crumbles and three blackberry cobblers along with a key lime pie. Blackberries are everywhere right now and I’ve picked over fifteen pounds so far. Most of the berries are in the freezer, but I couldn’t resist making a few sweets to share with our guests.

Photo Credit - David Morris

After lunch we were off to Lanhydrock which is our closest National Trust property and perfect for a rainy day.

Photo Credit - David Morris

If you look closely into the reflection on the silver serving dish cover, you can see me with my new camera and Steven off to the right.

After a look around for some rainy day headgear (the one David is holding won’t do at all) we take a look outside to see if the rain has slowed enough to have a walk around the grounds.

We move outside to see what we can find in the gardens around Lanhydrock.

I managed to capture this leaf and the church below with my new camera with no worries about the rain as it’s waterproof, a valuable quality when living in a country where we don’t let a little rain keep us inside. (Panasonic DMC-TS2)

David is using his new Canon G11 which is the other camera I wanted. ( I know … I’m greedy when it comes to camera gear.)

Only one more shot and we’re off to our next location.

If you come back tomorrow, I’ll show you more of our journey around Cornwall.

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Power Shots & Love Lines

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Earlier this year while John was driving us to Tenby Wales, I spotted this sight and I shouted something like, ” Stop, please … I want to take a picture! ” Being the patient and accommodating man that he is, John pulled the car over so I could take a couple of shots that would probably not appeal to many.

I pulled these two photographs today because they reminded me of how often John puts my needs first even when he’d rather be doing something else. He’s been busy lately helping me get ready for my upcoming trip to my home in Atlanta, Georgia where I’ll soon be for the next few weeks.

He’s been patient and calming even when travel worries have left me a bit stroppy. I love some of the new words I discovered after moving here. Stroppy is a perfect description for my mood lately and I think it’s because I’m really going to miss him. As an independent, space loving woman, this represents a big shift for me.

Even though we’ve only been together for about two and half years I’ve come to love sharing my time with him. I still need of lot of time to myself, but there’s something really easy about the way we move in each other’s lives and space and if we were dancing, I’d say we had definitely mastered the steps.

Of course I’ll have fun on my trip home to the US and it’s going to be good to spend time with Miranda and Cullene and the rest of my family and friends, but now while any family gathering is still sweet, not having him there to share it makes it feel a bit incomplete.

I’m not gone yet, but soon I’ll be writing from the other side of the Atlantic where the high temperatures and humidity may be just enough to distract me from missing him too much.

I’ve already scheduled a run/walk/hike with a blogger friend, Jules who John and I met on the TMB a couple of years ago along with her husband. If you’re reading me from Georgia and want to meet up to say hello, you can leave me a message here and I’ll get in touch with you. We don’t have to brave the heat like Jules and I will be doing … I am content to sit in a cool air-conditioned space and drink iced coffee with you instead.

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Auntie Norah’s Weed

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Auntie Norah's Weed

There is a flower in our garden that John always refers to as Auntie Norah’s Weed. It’s interesting to me that as much as he knows about gardening and proper plant names that he seems content to identify this flowering plant in the way that he does.

Some of you may not know that my husband John has done a great deal of research into his family history picking up on the work done by his father before he died. He likes to tell stories of how his dad was so into genealogy that at the age of 81 he flew to Singapore and Australia for three weeks on his own to attend several conferences.

It was Auntie Norah who started it all though. In 1961 John recorded this bit of conversation between Auntie Norah and his grandmother Marie where they’re discussing some relatives and family history with him. John is only eighteen in this recording.

Here’s a bit from the website of John Winchurch:


“Norah was my great aunt and her sister Marie my grandmother. They are pictured above about 1903. It was a conversation between Norah and Marie in 1961 that was an early inspiration for both me and my father to look into family history more. Dad began straight away, my research had to wait a few decades.

At this point, at the age of eighteen, I was fascinated by sound recording and had just built my second tape recorder. My family provided the material for testing its capabilities.This is one short excerpt that I am particularly glad I captured.Norah talks about ‘mother’s father’s father’ being a ‘wonderful violinist’ and ‘coming over with a German band’

Listen to Auntie Norah in forty seconds of history.  ( You can hear John at 20 and 22 seconds into the recording)

She was almost right, Francis George Sternberg was actually a generation further back and was a trumpeter with the Royal Horse Guards. He settled in Northampton, married Frances Furnivall and established himself and his family in a music retail and education business.At the time of this recording in 1961, it was two hundred years since Francis’s birth. It is an interesting example of how family information can be passed down the generations.“

L to R - Alice Brown, Francis Victor Winchurch, baby John Winchurch, Harry Brown, Margaret Winchurch, Marion Winchurch, Norah Alice Brown

To finish this post which began about Auntie Norah’s Weed I want to tell you a bit more about her. John’s grandmother was one of three sisters with Norah being the eldest by three years. As Norah never married it was she who took care of their aging mother living with her until she died leaving Norah alone at sixty-six.

She worked at several jobs during her lifetime in libraries in the area and took tons of photographs over the years as an avid hobbyist. In her 80’s when she could no longer live alone she came to live with her sister John’s grandmother Marie who was by then in her 80’s as well.

With Norah crowding into the small home already occupied by her sister, John’s mother, father, and brother she had to get rid of many things during her move. With so much family in one space, Auntie Norah did a big clear out even trying to get rid of many of her family photograph albums which were rescued from the rubbish bin.

One thing she couldn’t leave behind was the yellow flower you see above. While this is not one of her original plants, it is the same type of flower that John’s grandmother labeled a weed based on the way it overtook the garden. Aside from Auntie Norah’s Weed, when I asked John what he remembered most about her he quickly said her laughter. He said she was always laughing and you can hear it on the link above that John recorded in 1961.

Sitting in my studio I can see Auntie Norah’s Weed growing across the garden in an almost direct sight line to my desk. While the garden space is compact, as lovely as this flower is I cannot imagine a time when I would ever not appreciate the brightness it adds to my daily view.

Of course it might be nice to know its proper name if any gardeners out there want to pass it on, but personally … I like remembering the laughing spirit of a woman I never knew and hope Auntie Norah’s Weed spreads its roots as deeply in the garden as she has now in my memory.

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Sharing A Story – My Teary Moment With Kenny Loggins

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In 1997, my life was in the middle of major changes when I saw that an old musical favorite of mine was coming to town to sign copies of a book that he had co-authored with his wife. I knew virtually nothing about this book, but what I did know was how at various points in my life his music had offered a soundtrack for the emotions and struggles that I had experienced particularly in my 20’s and early 30’s and something in me felt a need to go to his book signing.

If you’ve been reading my blog for long you already know that storytelling is so throughly a part of who I am that the idea that I might wait in line at a bookstore to have my newly purchased book autographed without mentioning the significance of his music and then quietly slip away was not even in the realm of possibility.

As I stepped up to meet him with a long line of people at my back, I considered how I might communicate the importance one song in particular had for me during my divorce from my daughter’s father and how I had listened to it over and over hanging on to the words like a life raft when I felt as if I might drown in all the sadness and disappointment I felt in myself and my failures.

Although very few of us are entirely responsible for the end of a marriage, for a while I believed that burden was all mine and I cried my way through years of pain that while unrelated in some ways surfaced during the final days and weeks of my marriage. I wanted more for a child of mine than two parents living separate lives shuttling back and forth between two houses and I struggled with keeping my own childhood sorrows from overshadowing my need to ensure that she felt safe and loved.

It was during this time while dressing for work one morning that I saw Kenny Loggins sing a song on a morning television show and listened as the words in his song mirrored my own experience. I remember stopping what I was doing at the time and just sitting as I watched … feeling for the first time that maybe things would be alright. The words in his song echoed exactly what I had been feeling and later I listened as he talked about the changes in his life and the joy that was now present.

His song had given me hope and a bit of solace back then and made me see that I was not alone in my sad experience and I as I stood there waiting I thought, I’m going to tell him. For a moment I considered, what if he thinks I’m silly, stupid, or God forbid, groupie-ish, but in the end I decided to share the importance hearing that particular song had for me during a time of crisis.

What you see in the photograph below is me telling him my story. I had given my camera to the woman behind me to take my picture with him and as I was talking I knelt down for a minute so my position shifted from what you see here. I told him of that morning only a few years earlier and how the message in his song had provided a starting place for healing and a form of forgiveness that I while I was still working on for myself, was slowly coming together after years of not trusting my own voice and my own sense that my feelings and dreams were just as valuable as those who wanted to be in relationship with me.

Kenny Loggins - Elizabeth Harper

As I told him my story, his eyes began to tear up … filling close to overflowing while we spoke and not because of the sadness in my story, but I believe now having read his book, because of the similarity. I think he was touched by my story because he had lived parts of it himself, different in ways to mine certainly, but the same at the core.

The woman who followed me in line brought my camera to me after having her book autographed and said, ” You made him cry … what did you say to him? ”  Without going into my whole story, I told her that I just shared an important moment in my life and how one song had made a difference. Having taken a risk to share something so special to me, I can’t tell you how pleased I was that it was received in the way I had intended.

There’s a release that comes in speaking your truth. It doesn’t need to be public or released in a song as has often been his way, but sharing your story can be a gift to someone who just might need the message in your own experience. Most of us do this everyday never really knowing the impact our words may have.

I’ve been speaking my truth here at GOTJ for the last 24 months. Today marks two years since I wrote my first blog post at giftsofthejourney.com where my first 82 posts still live. In February of 2009, I moved GOTJ to this WordPress account and during the last two years the combined total of 338 posts have garnered 76,853 page views and the kind and generous comments of many of you likely reading this today.

I want to take a minute to thank you for including my words and images in your daily life. Even though I don’t always have a chance to respond on the comments left here, please know that they are so appreciated and mean a great deal to me. Quite often as you’ve shared bits of your own story in response to something I’ve written I have been moved to tears as Kenny Loggins was that day and I am always grateful whenever my story connects in some useful way with your own.

I’m not sure what Kenny Loggins was writing in everyone else’s book, but he could not have picked better words for me personally than those two you see at the bottom of the page,” Trust Love.”  I frequently tell people that I could not have imagined that I would ever have the life I have now, but you all know my story if you’ve been reading GOTJ for long.

Trusting love is what brought me to this sweet life with John and the awareness that change had its own gifts to offer led me to create Gifts Of The Journey and a chance to share the experience with anyone interested in their own gifts and their own journey. My thanks to each of you who through Gifts of the Journey are now a part of mine.

John Winchurch & Elizabeth Harper - 2008

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Altarnun – Pausing To See More Than A Road Sign

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As is often the way here there are unexpected surprises sometimes waiting just around the next bend in the road. John and I took the time to discover one a few weeks ago. For as long as John has lived in Cornwall, Alternun has been just another name on small roadside sign, one of many villages scattered just off the A-30 as it snakes it’s way through Cornwall all the way to Land’s End where it does what everything does there, it ends.

While he is often given to impromptu side trips to explore new places, John had never taken the turn to the village below. Last Christmas his cousin Mary came to stay with us for the holiday and while she was here shared a story with him about this sweet little village that had been one of her mother’s favorites. Cousin Mary if you remember is 87 and has had a fondness for Cornwall since she first came here as a child. As we were driving back from an errand in another village John saw the sign and detoured taking us straight off the A-30 to see Alternun.

We parked near the church which has an interesting history that I’ll share here in a post here tomorrow.  For now I’ll take you on a little walking tour around the village. The bridge above was built in the 15th century and is known as the packhorse bridge.

John took this photograph from a grassy patch near the village hall. The church tower is tucked just behind the trees on the left and the building in front is a row of cottages.

This sweet little bridge as I said earlier is called a packhorse bridge and not wide enough for cars.

This was taken from the packhorse bridge and that is John in the striped shirt off in the distance near where he stood while taking the second photograph in this post.

Just over the footbridge you see this memorial to those who died in several wars. In the distance you can see a row of cottages with the one on the end having a big garden. This is all right in the heart of the village which adds even more visual interest.

Here’s another view looking down the main street.

See the monument in the shadows of the right corner, this row of cottages is to the right of it.

Here is a shot of that pretty little veggie patch I mentioned.

I found this row of cottages pretty interesting. There was a small running stream right underneath the stone slate footbridges that led to each front door. I asked John if these were designed this way in order to dump waste into the stream for removal when originally built … he was not sure, but it did seem likely to us both.

This had to be one of the best looking rural phone boxes I’ve seen in Cornwall. With cell phones so accessible and in wide use the need for pay phones is not really necessary. People have protested the removal of the easily recognizable red phone booths based on how they’ve come to be symbolic images associated with the UK and while they stay in place for now, most are beginning to look pretty uncared for.

I’m not sure about this building, I’ll need to go back sometime soon to ask some questions about the history of the buildings from some locals. It was very quiet when we were there and so I came away with lots of questions and little answers.

John graciously agreed to pose next to this door so you could see how low the entrance was. No one lives here now and it could use some renovation and repair.

This may not look too odd to some of you … just and old farmhouse cottage across the street in a Cornish village in southwest England until you notice that silver thing with the bell hanging off the back end of it. Hmm … this might look familiar to any Americans reading this post.

Yep, I do believe that says U.S. Mail on it which seems so out of place in Altarnun particularly with the word cottage on the wall behind it. Someone has removed the red flag normally found on the side of the mailbox. I like the use of the bell as an alert.

If you look behind the row of cottages you can see the church on the hill. Just inside the gate is a Celtic cross said to date to the 6th century. Remember … come back tomorrow for a little show and tell as to what makes this church so special.

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Would You Lay With Me In A Field Of Flowers And Stone

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St Genny's in Cornwall

While out on a drive yesterday, John took a detour and quite by accident we ended up at a place we might have never found had we not been up for a little adventure.

St Genny’s Church

Photo by John Winchurch

In a clear departure from my normal behavior, I did not take any photographs of the inside of St. Genny’s, but John got a nice one from the back center aisle.

I followed the path to the right of St Genny’s around the corner to see the surprise below.

Walking between the church and a stand of trees shading several rows of ornate gravestones, I stepped out into a place that took my breath away with the perfect beauty of all.

John had gone inside the church looking for me and after coming around the corner, caught up with me here on this hill.

He walked with a stride and purpose that I’ve seen before as he came straight up the hill to the place where I was standing. Reaching for me without saying a word, he kissed me with the kind of kiss that felt like a sweet benediction in what seemed like a holy place of rest. I thought nowhere could a woman feel more loved than I did then and we stood quietly together for another minute admiring the view from this field of flowers and stone.

As we turned to walk on I asked him if he’d seen a John and Elizabeth yet, because I know from experience now that there’s always a John and Elizabeth lying together in every churchyard we visit and no sooner did I finish the question then I saw two stones next to where he was standing. I smiled as I noticed that he happened to be standing in front of John the husband’s gravestone while I was closest to Elizabeth’s.

I would have photographed him where he stood, but sometimes I get a bit superstitious about photographing the living in a memorial for the dead. Except for wedding day photographs like ours below.

Elizabeth Harper & John Winchurch - Wedding Day - 2-2-2009

After seeing the graves of John and Elizabeth Marshall, we climbed to the top corner of the churchyard for a longer view …

… and noticed this sweet little bench tucked up near the wall.

It was a perfect place to sit and think.

There were wild flowers growing everywhere and not so much in the way of cut flowers,

… but I did find this tender message of love and memory on one grave.

It you’d like to know more about St Genny’s church, I found a wonderful blog post from a woman named Jan Windle who spent several days nearby and did some interesting research complete with detailed photographs. It’s well worth a look.

*Note that she speaks first about St Juliot, a church associated with Thomas Hardy before going on to St Genny’s.

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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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Budding Director Captures The Moment

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Look closely at the image below and you should be able to see two figures in the distance, one in red and one in blue. If you can’t see them, click on the image to make it larger and if after that you still can’t see them, go get your glasses and give it another try.

Okay, now for the brief backstory … John and I took Jersey Girl down to the river today so I could decide where to hide the clues for my treasure hunt on Wednesday. As I was taking pictures of hiding places and counting off paces and writing down the details needed for creating a treasure map, I happened to look up and notice that in the distance there was something happening that looked kind of interesting. So I snapped a series of photographs that after viewing I just had to share.

When we first walked through the meadow, I tried to teach JG how to hold a blade of grass between her thumbs and blow on to make a series of bird sounds. After working our way through multiple blades of grass with little success, we decided to try again later. When I saw JG with John’s video camera in hand, I knew that John was probably putting the lesson on tape.

Seeing him lift his hands up and hearing him make a few sounds that sounded a bit like a squawk confirmed what I had been thinking and I was glad that I had managed to catch their cute interaction if only from a distance.

The shot below was the one I couldn’t see clearly due to the distance, but by some bit of luck I managed to snap the image of a little budding director giving her granddad the thumbs up sign signaling a successful capture.

I can almost hear her saying, ” Got it, well done, Bapa. “

While the pictures above make me chuckle at the easy confident interaction I’ve witnessed many times between them, it’s the one below that makes my heart feel tender. I haven’t see the video JG made of her Bapa today, but from the look on their faces while reviewing the footage, I think it will certainly be something to remember.

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Getting To Know You

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When John and Miranda met in Virginia at the university she was still attending a little over two years ago, they really only had a few hours to get to know each other and while it was pleasant, they were still virtually strangers when he and I married a year later in February of 2009.

Over the last two years they have interacted a bit during some of my online iChat conversations with Miranda, but most of what they know about each other has been filtered through me as I have talked or written about them.

You never really know how people will get on and it’s a big leapt to think that just because they’re my favorite people to spend time with that they might enjoy each others company as well. I am pleased to say that any concerns I might have had have melted away as I have watched them laughing and chatting about different topics on their own.

We’re off again in a few hours on our whirlwind tour of Cornwall. You would not believe the photographs we are all getting. John is shooting more video than anything else, but Miranda and I have our cameras in hand and it’s been fun at night to reflect on the day and remember some of the conversations that have come from our shared experiences.

Eden waits for us today along with Lanhydrock and maybe we’ll even have a chance to give a couple of babies a squeeze at the end of the day … if we have any energy left.