This Town Of Riches

Everybody's dreams came true today, dear Readers. The rain has gone! and in fact it is seriously hot. People are wandering around town sweating, and in a few cases, swearing. 

But of course the mood is generally cheerful. About the only down side was last night during the Evensong church service. The choir members felt as if they were wearing an individually heated sauna tent, and taking them off was not an option!

This morning I crept out of my cottage to catch a glimpse of this new phenomenon we had so eagerly waited for. The sea was flat and I was once again the only happy wanderer in town, and it was sweet.

The Evensong service had been sweet, too. To prepare, we had rehearsed the pieces for weeks, not only at the Tuesday evening sessions, but we had been provided with printed music and voice files to listen to. These files had me walking the heights of St Ives singing with the choir Master on the tenor parts. I came upon the ponies one morning while blaring out Psalm 46. It was brilliant! 

Each portion of the service rang beautifully clear to us all. Whenever it became time to stand, or to sit, or to begin a new song, the choir Master's wife looked at us with a huge smile (reminding us to smile back). We did. I think my favorite part was singing the Responses. That is where the Vicar sings "Oh Lord, open Thou our lips", and the choir responds with "and our mouth shall shew forth Thy praise," which reminds us that our worship originates with Him. We don't make it up. Again, brilliant. 

At the end when the choir stood about in the Vestry talking it over, I said, "Oh dear, I am going to miss those songs now that we have performed them."

The choir Master's wife said, "Well, you don't have to miss them. We will do them again!" She explained that they keep them at the ready for another Evensong down the road.

So there is that worry put to rest.

Here at the end of my post is a clip of the choir Master's organ playing. It is always a tremendous way to end a service, when everybody sits and listens to him play for us. 

My, oh my. Such riches in this town of riches. 

See you along the Way!

the SconeLady

 (For the past half hour I have been aware a sound coming from outside my window. The window was open, to let in the lovely summer sunshine in. But - the sound finally penetrated my consciousness, and alerted me to what it was. Rain. It was RAIN!! So much for dreams coming true.)

A Red Letter Day

 

Stuart the Fisherman

"Hey, I should be able to find you a Fishermans Friends concert next time you are over," said Stuart the Fisherman last year.

"What - really?" I was truly shocked. A concert! With the Fishermans Friends? I had seen them perform 3 times and had about had a conniption every time.

Public glimpses of my favorite singing group are just about impossible, but for someone like Stuart the Fisherman, who is Cornish through and through, and who is friends with everybody here (even the Fishermans Friends), the word 'impossible' does not apply.

I remembered this, and waited through the year. I was not worried because even if nothing happened, just hearing that it might was quite exciting.

Today when the blue skies broke out above St Ives, I got out a pretty blue chair to sit on and have a cup of tea and cake. Resting my feet on the outdoor steps, I took a bite and watched the boats across the harbour. Then I suddenly recognized one of the boats. It was a yellow boat. Stuart's boat is yellow! 

Not knowing that my phone was at 3% battery (typical), I began to run! Down the pier I sped just as Stuart was lifting a gigantic plastic container filled with something creepy. You never know what a fisherman might be carrying in those things.

A tourist was mooching around on the pier, and asked Stuart what was in there. The container was strangely active, the lid sort of bubbling up and down. You will not believe what Stuart said. 

"Octopus's! Tons of Octopus's!" (He might have said 'Octopi'. I don't remember.)

"Eeeeeeeeek!" I squeaked. And jumped back.

By now I had noticed my phone battery was at 1% so I quickly snapped two shots of Stuart and the moocher before the phone died.

Here are the two shots I got. Can you see the tentacles stuck to the container lid??? Is that not the creepiest thing ever? 

He had never caught Octopi before, and neither had anyone else on that pier. So this was a Red Letter Day.

I did not like those Octopi's. Stuart had on rubber gloves and plunged his hands in and out of the squiggly mess. (They stuck on his gloves. Oh, man).

I feel about them the way I do about Huntsman Spiders and centipedes. God has a strange sense of humor.

See you along the way!

the SconeLady

Taming A Seagull, 2

 

Yesterday we acknowledged that there would be no more wild swims this year. 2 out of 3 of us cheered. 

We had developed a swim ritual over the years, so we knew what to expect from every single swim, every single day. It always began with the SconeLady going off for a 2 mile walk, then having cups of tea together, then all of us lurching upstairs to change for the inevitable torture session.

Our ritual had expanded now to include the very sweet and kind Swedish couple. But no! today there would be no sweet and kind Swedish couple. They would be packing. They would be getting the boys up. They would be having their breakfasts! And they would not be coming out to the harbour to train their seagull. 

So I was walking my lonely way toward Smeaton's Pier when I saw what I did not expect to see. The sweet and kind Swedish couple!

"Good morning!" said the husband, shocking me out of my reverie.

"Good morning!" said the beautiful lady. A grin made its quiet way onto my face, and then stayed there.

"No swim, today?" asked the smiling man.

"No, no swim," I answered. "They must all go home."

I heard a squeak, and looked down at their feet on the granite pavement. There stood a quiet and strangely well-trained seagull. 

Their seagull (honest!).

"Oh, there it is again!" I said, sounding almost friendly to it. The lady held out some morsel of interest toward the gull. It took it, then looked up again at the lady expectantly.

"I have not really liked sea gulls - in the past," I said hesitantly.

"Oh?" asked the lady.

I explained that our granddaughter had been scared by the sea gull who had dive-bombed her ice cream. 

"Oh, how awful for her!" she commiserated. "It all comes of having too much food on the Harbour.." This I knew to be true. You should just SEE the amount of consumption that goes on around this place. Ice creams, Cornish pasties, cheese-tomato baguettes, scones, and who knows what all else. Pizza too!

When it became time for them to leave for their breakfasts, I said, hopefully, "You'll be back next year!"

"Well, one can never really know what might happen," said she. But - I hope it will!" 

Then they went, climbing the stairs to their balcony flat overlooking my favorite 3 cottages on the sand. 

I glanced down at the seagull, as it watched them go.

The bench where a seagull learned.

See you along the way!

the SconeLady

Taming A Seagull, 1

 

Afternoon tea at the Ugly Butterly is not for the faint of heart. Come hungry.

We were ready for it partly by having plunged into the harbour tides at 7:45 that morning. Anyone who does this richly deserves a gargantuan afternoon tea. Every morning we have plunged in this way, and every time 2 out of 3 of us wonder what in the world we think we are doing. 

To distract ourselves, we have begun watching out for the lovely Swedish couple who sit on the Harbour beach each morning, watching the sea gulls. The lady is beautiful and has actually tamed a sea gull (honest!). As soon as she and her husband sit down on the bench, this sea gull comes out. When it comes out, it looks straight at the lady with its head cocked to one side as if figuring out who this gorgeous creature is. 

We always pause at their bench (effectively putting off the inevitable plunge), and hear their encouraging words about what we are going to do in the freezing waters. They say things like, "We are proud of you for your splendid bravery!" 

Or, "We wish we could go in there with you!" 

Or, "These tiny birds will eat out of our hands!" 

We love their accents and their cheerful faces. It will be hard when they are no longer sitting on the harbour bench training the birds.

We went, we plunged, we screamed (not!), then suddenly felt a rather strong current beneath our legs. Hmm. 2 out of 3 of us don't like currents, strong or otherwise, so although I did get into the water up to my neck, I was actually sitting on the harbour floor. Man, were those shivery waves! 

So that is how we prepared for our afternoon tea at the Ugly Butterfly. Here are some photos of our darling meal:

The Ugly Butterfly (last year it was located in Carbis Bay, but they have moved now to Newquay)

I must apologize to Ted for obliterating his head.

(Mentioning hair, there is no way to keep one's hair fixed in Cornwall's current weather. Bangs are always in the upright and locked position).

See you along the way!

the SconeLady

The Farewell

 

Standing in front of cute Mousehole Harbour

Amazing Grace

We made our way toward Mousehole Harbour last evening, blanketed by the gleaming sea and sky you can find only in Cornwall. We did this in order to listen to our favorite choir, in concert, in all their glory. Just getting there and finding parking was a tough-ish job, (thank you Rosie), but absolutely worth it because the Mousehole Men are great. 

Once the drive, and the parking, and the (short) walk along the harbour were accomplished, we began to hear voices. In 4 part harmony, and then in 6 part, the favorite song of millions rang out across that harbour. "Amazing Grace".

As they sang, my eyes drifted across the faces. I know a lot of them. Several have driven me up the hill to the church at Paul on Monday nights, and I am loyal to them for it. You have heard how fun those rides are, and how the men riding along always kept us current on the latest.

Last year I got to know Jeff, a choir member who struggled with cancer but didn't let it keep him from singing. He rode along with my kind driver Matthew, and had a sweet attitude to this crushing situation. 

Last week I noticed that his spot in the car was empty.

"Where is Jeff?" I asked, fearing the worst.

"Jeff is very poorly now," said Matthew. "In fact, I'm sorry to say that he has only 3 days to live."

John, Matthew, and I let the car settle into a silence as we thought about Jeff's kind smile, and his humor, and the fact that he never complained. At the end of the concert, the director shared with the audience what we did not want to hear -  that Jeff had passed away. His favorite song had been "You'll Never Walk Alone", and the choir chose to sing it to Jeff as a Farewell.

(please turn up the volume, for I was a distance from the choir)

The concert had begun with Amazing Grace, and ended with "You'll Never Walk Alone". 

They could not have chosen better.

See you along the Way!

the SconeLady

Eat

One huge highlight of a trip like this one is how much fun it is to eat. I love to eat, and I think it is fun because we were created to do it. Even Ruprecht was created to do it. That is why it is sad when people feel compelled to look at food as if it is some sort of enemy, when it is not an enemy at all. It is a lovely friend.

During my first two St Ives weeks, my food choices were relatively simple because I was alone. A sandwich here, a bowl of soup there, and they were all really good. But on week 3, my British friends joined me and opened the door to a great change, three times a day. None of this sandwich and soup business. Our only trouble was having too MUCH choice. The number of restaurants we are surrounded by beggars the imagination. 

 Last night we ate at Ardor. 

Tonight it was Harbour View House.

Tomorrow for the Sunday Carvery it will be The Badger, in Lelant.

Later in the week it will be The Ugly Butterfly, for an afternoon tea. And these are not by any means all. There will be more.

Tonight we started by looking at the menus, discussing and choosing what we wanted to eat. I'm afraid I don't have a menu to read to you, but I will check with friend Rosie later who will remember every single item we had. But it almost didn't matter, because all of a sudden the most beautiful two voices wafted our way. They were young (20's). They were beautiful. They smiled. And they sounded like angels.

We were treated to the most lovely little concert in the Harbour View House, with the sea shining behind them (there was a plate glass window all along the back) and the spectacular sky above. The young man introduced his sister, and then played the guitar and sang with her in the most talented fashion. We were instantly hooked.

When it became time for us to leave, I asked the two of them how I could access their music. They did not have a way, yet. I said how much it had meant to me that they were a brother/sister group. And then as we moved through the door, a beautiful blond woman stopped to tell us that those two wonderful young people are her children! 

Her face shone as she told us how proud she is of them. How she loves going to their engagements. And that if we want to find out a little more about them, I should type "Globaljamming" into Google or facebook. This was promising! and I shall try it but not just yet, because I am supposed to be in my bed right now.

Do you mind?

See you along the way!

the SconeLady

Other Things I See

This is the only cat of St Ives I have seen this trip. It was sweet, and just like Opal back at home. (I wonder if this one stands at its owner's big window and yowls until the owner finally comes out looking cross?) Apparently both this cat and Opal live for one thing, and one thing only: being fed. There are two cats living with the Rather Stunning Son back home, who also live to Eat. They are called Two Scoops and Ruprecht. This black cat of St Ives has kept her trim figure, but Ruprecht has taken "Eat" to a whole new level. 

This is the last full day in this, the second cottage this trip. We learned that the Queen came to St Ives some years ago and held onto these hand rails as she walked along. She must have had to be very careful walking on the cobblestones of St Ives. It would be terrible if anything untoward happened to her Majesty.

I like hearing about the Queen, and indeed I miss the Queen, now. During her year of Jubilee in 2022, I was here when she celebrated her 70 years as the first Monarch to reach this milestone. People were happy about this accomplishment, and had many celebrations to honor her. 

I was also here during the time of the King's coronation, which was a bittersweet day; you had to lose one person in order to gain the other. 

Secretively, and personally, I switched one of the words of the National Anthem, during the St Ives' celebration. (I whispered, "God Save The Queen" instead of you know who).

If I ever could I would want to live in this house, one of Rosamunde Pilcher's homes. In her book  Coming Home, it was called "Riverview", and Rosamunde described it so precisely that you would have to be blind as a bat not to notice it was Riverview. That's the thing about her; she makes you want to live in all her book houses.

 Every day I climb up to the tippy top of St Ives so that I might see everything. The hills are amazing, and steep, but I don't care. I am used to it! The air is crisp and sweet, up there. 

When I have achieved the tippy top, I come to the ponies. The ponies are always waiting for me and are the most adorable creatures with locks of hair that hang down between their eyes. Maybe they are nice to me because they think I have a treat in my pocket. I never bring any carrots or sugar cubes to them, though,  for that would be against the unspoken Rules.

See you along the way!

the SconeLady