Gwiwer

Don’t think I’ll bother on a 20% chance. The nearest light-free location with a clear view north is only a couple of miles away at Botallack. The aurora was photographed there earlier this year. It’s been a long day and the car is tucked away in a tight spot. If I got it out I wouldn’t try getting back in after dark so it would have to go in the car park. Not that it’s far to walk but hey. I’ll have another muggercoffy and hit the hay. Tomorrow is also going to be a busy one.

Yes they do. To very mixed reviews it must be said. We went last year. Never again. Neither of us enjoyed the meals. Some others rate them highly, some go elsewhere.

Currently I have to say 1 - 2 weeks. Not within the control of any event manager but given the ongoing industrial disputes and the notice legally required to be given for such action I am unwilling to commit any funds - whether that be for admission, travel or accommodation, until I can be reasonably certain of actually getting there and back. Obtaining refunds is not always as easy nor as fuss-free as it should be. If I booked admission for an event which took place but I was unable to get there because of railway politics would the event refund me? Not all would. Similarly with accommodation which I am going to need if travelling for a day-long event more than a couple of hours from home. The cheapest deals are sometimes “non-refundable” but I am unwilling to pay more for the same product just in case I don’t get there.

Hello I’ve been below the big chimney watching our coast again Lots of yachtspersons not all of whom were abiding by the rules. Lots of visitors to the watch too - from hikers to thunder-bugs. And a party of around 30 younger folk from the West Midlands totally unfamiliar with the sea and safety thereabouts. And who chose to dive into rock-infested shallows from a private slipway. Eejits. The Coastguard was alerted. An incident was created. And a person in a dark blue Land Rover with a blue flashing light on top duly appeared and ordered them on their way. In what I later learned were “Strong Cornish terms”. It’s now beer o’clock. And it’s Indian grub night at the café. Yesssss. Welcome to the weekend

I had an adder crawl across my bare legs one time. I was relaxing on a rocky clifftop enjoying sun above, sea and surf below and idling my life away when I felt something crawling onto my leg. Thinking it might be an insect of some sort I glanced lazily down and to my great surprise there was an adder making its way across me. I think I was more concerned about wearing shorts than being bitten though it wasn’t anywhere near the vitals. I had the presence of mind to stay calm and it slithered on its way quite unconcerned. In all my 17 years in Australia I only ever saw two snakes. Both Brown Snakes and both snaking lazily across roads on hot sunny days. I was in the car on both occasions so wasn’t at all bothered. And they were not bothered by me because I was able to stop and let them go on their way.

Mount Disappointment Egg & Bacon Bay Iron Kn0b Kangaroo Flat Emu Plains ……. and many more

I have nothing against Melbourne 🤣 It was home for 17 years and a lot of those were good years. It is the most-European of Aussie cities in terms of vibe, familiarity and culture. And in terms of acceptance and welcome to those choosing to live there no matter where they have come from. My thoughts on some aspects of Aussie culture have been written before. Hard-working, hard-playing, hard-drinking and sometimes hard-fighting. You would get at least some of those in many nations of the world. But by “hard-working” I mean not necessarily sweating all hours for a pittance though some careers can be just that. Mostly in rural agriculture though. I always maintained that compared with the UK I was expected to work half as hard for twice the money. The spirit of mateship is a bit different to anywhere else. The willingness - the desire even - to volunteer for some pretty unforgiving tasks is endemic. Such as bush firefighting. Australia is brash. It’s loud. It’s quite in-your-face at times. And it can be deserted, silent, awesome, dangerous and unforgiving. At times. In some places. I felt mostly safe around Melbourne in a way I didn’t in Sydney nor Brisbane. Adelaide was ok. Bush towns, even those quite close to Melbourne, can be altogether different. Don’t wear rainbows or express a sexuality other than straight male or female. There were (and might still be) pubs where women are not admitted or only to a designated lounge. There are too many men whose attitude to women is that a “sheila” is only fit for the kitchen and - upon demand - the bedroom. It is their job to cook, clean, serve the men cold beers and keep quiet. I cannot support that level of disrespect. I didn’t find much of that in the city and suburbs. Only among country folk who might be “in town” for occasional business. But on the whole Melbourne people are warm, welcoming and openly friendly. Many Aussies are. But I found the traits more overtly displayed through Melbourne. I am happy to have retained a number of good friendships from those years. Almost all of them Melbourne people. And I am respectfully honoured to this day to have been welcomed to country by Boonwurrung and other Kulin Nation elders.

Happy Thursday all. The day after Flora Day when those still in Helston will not be early risers and when those of us who made it home still woke with tired legs from having been standing on them all of yesterday. Today is porch-painting day. The Leyland's is out. The brushes are wielded and all the woodwork in and out will look shinier and newer by sunset. A perfect day for glossing, really, as it’s dry, breezy, low humidity and around 14C. Tomorrow I’ll check for stray paint but having cut in around all the windows without a problem so far I’m hoping the clean-up will not be needed.

Evening all. A big day here. An early start saw me in Helston for breakfast and the early morning dance of Flora Day. Followed by the raucous Hal-an-Tow pageant wherein St George slays the dragon, the Spanish invaders are taunted and St Michael - patron saint of Helston - arrives to make all things right. The children’s dance followed and then the Mid-day Dance - the main event. This is the one where bandsmen and dancers snake their way along a traditional route into houses and shops, out the back and return to the streets via the next property. They are bringing in the summer. I was bringing in the ales in between dances including the annual “breakfast beer” as the pubs are open from 6am. On-street and throughout-town drinking is not only permitted but widely indulged in. Though the local constabulary will swiftly intervene if an individual is really misbehaving. It can get a little crazy. It’s fun. It’s been a perfect day for it too with hazy sun and modest temperatures. My now 40 year-old T-shirt was worn. It’s very probably the last of its ilk as only 50 were printed as a hand-made special one year. Today I met a chap who introduced himself with the words “**** Me”. Followed by “My ex-missus made those on my kitchen table!” He hasn’t seen her nor another of the shirts these past 15 years. Small world though. If you watch the video it’s 15 minutes and might become tedious but it is a complete record of all the Mid-day dancers and bands. The co-ordination between the two bands is remarkable even if that between the dancers doesn’t always match!!

Yes. What is "Flour improver" as just one example? And does it make you emit gas in the way guar gum - another food additive - does.

We had a friend whose journey through life took her via the Cook Islands. She mentioned the "restaurants on the beach" though not the pork crackling. We met her when she lodged with us in Australia as an intern from the UK's Royal Horticultural Society seconded to the Royal Botanic Gardens Melbourne. She moved on to Noozilland and met a Belgian chap there who had work on the Cooks Islands. They duly went off to live there together and produced a little person during their stay. She also mentioned the fact that the humidity was terrible and it was never possible to truly dry the laundry there. We last heard of her in Belgium where she, he and child ended up after the Cooks Islands work ended. She then ended their relationship on the grounds of personal safety. Because the child was born in the Islands and of mixed-nationality parents she has never had the right to bring him back to the UK without father's consent given through the Belgian courts. Which has has never been willing to give. Which has left her stuck in Belgium raising a child who must by now be a teenager but who cannot legally be removed from that country until he reaches his 18th birthday. Life sometimes gets extraordinarily tangled in ways we don't expect and with consequences we don't want. But the other option (as she described it to us over many months) was to remain in a degraded and damaging relationship with someone who knew neither truth nor sobriety. I would like to be able to find her again just to know that all has been well. Or well enough. But so far this small world we live in hasn't been small enough to manage that. Maybe one day. Or maybe she is happy to have moved on and left us all behind.

Or in Cornish granite? If Reynard was indeed in an advanced state of decomposition then it does make bagging more difficult but yes they can be double- or triple-bagged and dropped into the wheelie bin. Who would know?

Same place it always is.

In other news and in answer to "What have the Romans ever done for us?" I noted this on an OS map recently. The old Pulborough - Petworth railway seems to have been much older than we thought. © Ordnance Survey posted under permitted extract rules.

Good morning all and welcome to Ban Collar Day. Ironically I am wearing one of those T-shirt style tops which does have a collar so I might have to perform a quick change before leaving the house. Uncommonly and in defiance of tradition it is sunny and moderately warm here today although large dark grey things keep floating past overhead. The one horse-power vehicles are out in abundance which still causes His Furship to look in a startled manner out of the window to see what is producing the clip-clopping sound. "Giant mounted cats" is our answer. He remains startled at the sight of something so large mounted on four legs with pricked ears at the front a swisher at the back. We are navigating the murky depths of the GWR website attempting to obtain refunds for Dr. SWMBO's non-travels. Next weekend is affected by Industrial Action as mentioned a couple of days ago. She is due full refunds totalling over £300 for journeys she cannot make. The website is making it harder than it should be to extract that money from the operator. I might be accused of disrespect but if that were me I'd just bag it in the usual black sacks and bin it for collection. Cost already prepaid with the Council Tax bill. A decent pair of gloves would ensure no actual contact between the deceased and the remover.

That would be possible if less than ideal. We came across a family of parents-plus-seven children whilst in the employment of a membership-based organisation. As they arrived and presented themselves at reception father made sure they all lined up correctly - Von Trapp style - in descending order of height. One thing which struck me was that both parents and all children were blue-eyed blondes. Another was that the children were named alphabetically with the eldest’s starting with A then B and so on When their membership cards were presented I was able to see that the children’s birthdays were all ten months apart. And that the first had arrived just ten moths after mother’s 16th birthday. Father had been a teenager at the time too. Unusual. Unlikely. But true. Another lifelong friend became a grandmother aged 33. Which is the youngest age at which that is legally possible. Two 16 year-old parents plus two 9-month waiting times. She later had a child of her own who was (past tense - he sadly took his own life aged 20) younger than her first grand-child.

Hopeless Packed-up

Good Dafternoon all Only 14 o’clock and so much has been done already. Dr. SWMBO attended church as has become her habit since arriving here. She has friends there but the Baby Jeebers isn’t one of them. She suggests there might well have been a Good Person with charisma and a following but he wasn’t the only such in history. I attended to a few bits and bobs around the house before meeting her as planned at 11.00. She rides the trike the short distance to and from town as it is easier on her knees than walking. Today our monthly “Care and Repair Cafe” had a couple of chaps along from Sustrans to “do” bikes in addition to the usual suspects. The trike needed a service but we hadn’t expected that it would receive more than two hours of voluntary attention. The defective gear-shift lever was dismantled and rebuilt. All cables were renewed - that’s three for the brakes on a trike plus the derailleur. The chain was checked for wear and tension, rusted links were freed, the headset was adjusted, the whole thing then road-tested and handed back to her with paperwork describing the work done. All for nothing. Although a donation was left and we bought the repairer-chaps a pasty each. They had quite a queue of more run-of-the-mill jobs such as puncture repairs and brake / gear adjustments on two-wheel machines. A trike takes disproportionately more time and the back brakes need to be matched to each other. And then lunch. Following which we have to get ten days-worth of clothes into a bag which normally holds only four changes. Dr SWMBO isn’t home next weekend. She is giving a paper at Cambridge University. I have a weekend in which to misbehave all on my own.

I wonder whether this sign might have had more impact

Pertinent to the day and as creative as Weird Al has always been. My favourite of his is from an altogether different genre.

Evening all, Almost time for the Sleeping Car but popping in to record a day well spent. We were among the first customers at the market this morning, coming away with fresh fish and bread among other items, and having enjoyed tea and hevva cake. We tidied the garden before lunch then Dr. SWMBO decreed that a visit to the G***** C***** was required this afternoon. More terra cotta pots were required as were some summer-flowering bedding plants. So we returned with a well-laden Little Red Driving Box and planted 24 little red-flowering things along with the last of her dahlia tubers, more geraniums and a red-flowering ti-tree she was surprised to find at the GC. This whilst chatting at length to the neighbours who were trying to get away to somewhere but were being delayed by their son seemingly refusing to become ready. Teenagers eh? Who' d have one? We then found ourselves invited to drinks at the Commercial with a couple Dr. SWMBO knows vaguely through her professional network and who had bought a cottage near ours at much the same time. But being London-based had not moved in until now. We enjoyed each other's company though perhaps not so much the company of the party across the beer garden who were drinking shots of something and randomly screaming "Happy Birthday" at each other. All four of them. And probably all in their 50s so not teenagers this time! A mostly-sunny but quite cool day came to a close as the sun finally set into the sea leaving me to do the dishes and tidy up because Dr. SWMBO was "very tired" I guess i wasn't, then. But who's arguing? I know better than that. G'night all.

POETS Day is here and if I had a knocking-off time I could celebrate it suitably. Instead I shall have to make to with drinks and crisps at what ever time Dr. SWMBO decrees is "the end of her brain" for the week. It a beautiful Spring day at the Distant (Signal) West with a mostly-sunny and almost-warm feel to it. It was T-shirt and shorts weather for the shopping run this morning and I neither looked nor felt under-dressed. Paint has been purchased for adding this year's shiny coat to the cottage. I'm cheating and using water-based gloss straight onto the washed-down and lightly-rubbed previous coat. I have neither time nor skills to do a full rub-down-to-wood and apply everything from undercoat upwards. Neither do I have the number of Deltic Vouchers it requires these days to employ a tradesperson to do that all for me. And a broom-handle has been purchased into which a large metal hook has been screwed. This is the means by which the Velux windows upstairs can now be opened and closed; as they are something like 2.5m above floor level it's beyond the reach of even a tall Gwiwer standing on a chair to get them open so a pole it has to be. Pets at Home was visited for His Furship's requirements but his chosen diet was priced very much higher than it is for delivery. So thanks but no thanks and I ordered it online standing in front of the shelf as a very juvenile-looking assistant asked "Can I help you at all?". "No thanks - not at that price" was the answer as I showed her how much cheaper is was online. Same product, with delivery included, fully £10 cheaper. And then the Sainbury's Grand Prix which was actually quite civilised today. I did notice a van-plus-boat-trailer (complete with quite large boat) circulating the car park looking for a suitable place to park. Good luck with that one mate - try dropping the trailer off at the slipway first! There will be ales at the bar later. Because I say so.

Oh the irony.

Isn't is just? You know it's going to be a busy watch when you drive down the road and can see shipping almost nose-to-tail (all right, bow-to-stern) in both lanes. And you know it's going to be busy when you switch on the kit and find most of the local yachtspersons and local fishing / pleasure boats are out or making ready to go. Yes, that was a busy, BUSY, morning on watch. I hardly had time to make a brew. The moment I did so a hiker came past to report a distressed seal pup on the cove slipway. Not really what we are there for but she did also mention she had already reported it to wildlife welfare so other than noting the report in the log no further action was required. Dr. SWMBO will be home later therefore the Distant (Signal) West must be cleaned and everything put back in its official place. As opposed to where I leave things when she is away because I know where they are! Next weekend has given her some issues. She is due to present a paper at Cambridge University on Friday and was offered accommodation in order to return to Cornwall on Saturday. There are no trains from Cambridge on Saturday owing to an incursion by the Orange Army. So she booked the overnight sleeper from London on Friday night and arranged to leave Cambridge a little earlier than they would have liked. The sleeper has now been cancelled due to "Industrial Action Short of a Strike" in other words a ban on non-contractual overtime meaning at least one member of the train crew will not be willing to work and it cannot run. So she toyed with cancelling altogether. Cambridge came across with an offer of accommodation on both Saturday and Sunday nights which means she can avoid both the Orange Army and the Industrial (absence of) Action but will not get home to Cornwall for the weekend at all. That, in turn, means she has to figure out how to carry the extra clothes she will need for being away for ten days not four. She cannot manage a bigger bag than she uses; she has difficulty getting laundry done as service washes are the only option and they are expensive in her area. We'll nut something out. Meanwhile it is time to wrangle the Shark and perform other acts of Domestic Engineering and Purificatory Eurhythmics. .

2025 is the target. Which month and which event it is too early to say. It would be quite a large exhibit for SWAG25 but never say never. And I shall need a van to move it. Because three full and two half-size boards, plus legs, plus stock will not fit in the car!!!