A Dog's Welcome

 

My friend the adorable Jean sat in her favorite window-side chair today, minding her own business in peace when an explosion of barking shattered the silence. I had forgotten this quirk of her dogs, of waiting until a hapless visitor reached the door and then let fly. The sound is remarkable, quite possibly harmful to one's health.

But we entered at last (once Jean's daughter had manhandled the dogs into obedient silence), and were rewarded by the sweetest smile in Carbis Bay. From the hallway I could see she was wearing a pretty sweater (Jean always dresses well) of soft blue, white, and tan over a matching blouse and skirt. 

"Jean!" I said, touching her hand and introducing my daughter. There appeared as if from nowhere small white plates, cups, saucers, and spoons. Soon the cups were filled with tea, and then Jean spied the tell-tale bag. 

"You've brought treats, have you?" It is a habit of mine to stop by that favored spot to choose something for the appreciative Jean. My daughter held out the Yellow Canary Cafe bag, and then laughter rang out as it always must whenever the Canary is involved.

The goodies consisted of one flapjack and two amazing tarts - chocolate cream and lemon merange. And oh, it was great to hear again the Manchester accent, strong in Jean. Maybe I am not great at understanding it yet, but it's sure a lot of fun trying. We heard about a fall she had taken, her recovery (not quite complete), and some interesting details about the NHS which reveal that that NO HEALTH SERVICE IS PERFECT. It's kind of comforting to find that our two countries talk a LOT about this.

"And how is Eric doing?" I asked, wanting as always to hear of the friend who is living with Leukemia. He is a man who, in spite of his cancer, thinks of others before himself. He has a helper named Pennie who also thinks of others first; she comes three days a week to clean, cook, and garden for/with Eric. It's the sweetest thing!

After we left Jean (dogs barking their silly little heads off), we walked some more, ending up in the heights of St Ives. Our path took us along the street where Eric lives. 

"Hey! Eric lives down that lane, right there." We rounded the bend and glanced up at the house. In front of it stood Eric and Pennie (!!) clearly gardening.

"It's them!" I said with excitement.

"Who?" she replied, looking around.

"THEM. Eric and Pennie!"

"What - really?"

We stopped, not wishing to bother them or get too close because of his health. But - there they were, just at the moment we'd been thinking of them. We slowly approached, down the little lane that led us to the garden, and said 'Hello'. Pennie looked up.

Do you know what it's like to find someone you haven't seen since before Covid, and they at first aren't sure who you are, and then they suddenly ARE sure, and then the smiles just beam out all over their faces? It was exactly like that - a lovely, delicious welcome.

We stayed back a ways but communicated everything we needed to from there. Eric's sweet, pleased face - I won't forget that. And Pennie's was beautiful, filled with delight, the joy of seeing me and meeting my daughter, and we just stood there at a distance, soaking it all in. 

It's a part of Cornwall, this lovely, wonderful mystery of a place. It has curled in and around my heart until I'm sure I will never lose the magic of it. Maybe one day YOU will come, and see it for yourself. It's all available, you know. All you have to do is get here.

See you along the way!

the SconeLady