A Last Hurrah

St Michaels Mount

 Have you ever been to a British organ concert inside a gorgeous 1100AD church that has no straight lines left in it because it is so old? What a rare treat for the SconeLady and so many others. We attended the first one of the summer season at St Ia, and if you can go to any of the other ones, you should! In the US, sometimes a person can get to feeing that there are no more organs or organists left on the planet. But it's not true! They abound in England, and in particular to me, in Cornwall. 

This first concert was performed by Jeffrey Williams, the Musical Director at St Ia. And he really pulled out all the stops! Or at least most of them, and all to a purpose. His footwork was splendid too, giving his songs the richness they deserved. When we played organ at our church in the 1960's, and did footwork, we wore our socks; but this organist had on professional looking shoes that had special soles to help him get from one foot note to another, without slippage. It was grand!

 The organist's wife was in on it too, standing peacefully by and turning the pages whenever he needed her to. One observer said (and I agreed with him) that the church had certainly gotten two for the price of one. We sat on straight-up wooden pews, each pew with its own hand-made crocheted kneeler and shelf (very handy). Someone announced that we should put all our phones into Airplane Mode, and being the obedient creatures we are, we complied. This did not appear to have helped, though, because some phones made phone noises anyway (not mine).

As a sort of last Hurrah in leaving darling St Ives, we trooped across the street to MooMaid, ordered, and walked outside onto the street. 

One of us said, "But what about the seagulls?" and the other said, "Hmmm?" and kept walking. 

"No, really," the first one asked. 

Wham! from behind my right shoulder a seagull rested its claws, opened its beak, and snatched away the lovely Belgian Chocolate cone I had only had a few bites of. I screamed.

A man sitting at an outdoor table laughed much louder than I thought he should. It's awful being embarrassed in front of about a gazillion strangers who hear you screaming and then laugh at you. 

All of a sudden I had a foul taste in my mouth. 

Whaat? Did something disgusting get in there? Yes! In typical disgusted fashion I used my fingers to get whatever it was OUT. Which didn't work.  

And do you want to know what happened next? 

A SEAGULL (perhaps the same one) hovered just above my left eyebrow, and pooped on my head and eye. It was probably my ice cream cone he had digested and then come back for the Deposit! 

Don't you think it's about time something was done about these flying poop machines? I do.

See you along the way!

the SconeLady