It is always a question of the weather, in Cornwall, because you really never know what you're going to get. For this part of the journey, almost every weather map threatened straight on rain, which the SconeLady promptly rejected. They rarely know what they are talking about when it comes to forecasts, and anyway, it always changes. So I look ahead with hopes of blue, and then usually get them.
This is now the third day of glorious skies, bluer than any blue we see in California, and with the addition of soft, scattered, puffy white clouds. Walking in such loveliness almost lets you forget the masses of people pressing and crushing into the tiny streets along with you. We have not seen this town this busy, ever. One can see why, though. The microclimate of Cornwall is wonderfully welcoming...until it isn't. But by then, people have made their reservations and plunked down their money. They must take whatever it is that they get.
Since this is a Sunday, I found myself once again in the Parish Church, participating in the celebration of the Eucharist. Lovely it was, to be with others who were there for the same reason, and welcomed me with smiles and cups of tea. As we drank the tea and had the biscuits, I glanced around and saw something I had not yet seen - the Stations of the Cross, around on the walls of the church. There were 13 of them, each one hand carved and numbered and splendidly displayed. I found #1 and went from there. It was a sermon all on its own, clear and concise, true and awful and wonderful.
the gulls wheel and cry above us, all day long
Our little group of four wandered around the streets of the town soaking it in, peeking into galleries and shops to our heart's content. When the subject of food came up, as it always does, no one could figure out quite what to do or where to eat. Should it be in, or out? Should the SconeLady cook, or someone else? This went on until Ted finally settled the issue. "You can talk all you want, but I'm for the Sloop," he said, with decision. You can't really blame the poor man, he had followed us hither and yon, up the streets and down, shopping. In the end, we all felt that we were going to be 'for the Sloop', too, and found a table outside in the sun.
As we sat, I remembered a significant detail about today's service, something our small fry would want to know about: as the great Cross was being borne around the church and down the aisle, the incense ball, held this time by a white-robed gentleman, went round in a FULL CIRCLE, as smooth as you please, just as we'd been hoping it would all along. He went back to the half swing for a time, and then, almost at the altar itself - around it went a second time! It was like an icing on cake, because an incense ball swinging normally is a wonderful thing, but an incense ball swinging right around in a full circle, surpasses all.
After all of these things were done and a long walk had been had, the SconeLady did indeed cook the supper. Her favorite casserole with hamburger, noodles, mushrooms, onions, and a myriad of other tasty things, all topped with cheese and baked to perfection, met the expectations of her friends. The fact that each of them asked for seconds (and were there thirds? I do think so!) won my heart.
The thing was awfully good, I thought, while holding up my plate, and asking, please, for "more".
See you along the way!