Indian's Pages

I Have a New Project

2012-02-20T18:29:00.000Z

I am not a photographer. I don't know anything about light, ISOs, shutter speeds or whatever other photography jargon there is. I am just someone who likes to take photos and I take hundreds of photos all the time. My computer is filled with photos taken of just about anything. I don't like deleting photos. I don't know why I keep them or what to do with them. All I know is that I like having them.

I've also lost thousands of photos. I blame myself for not safely storing them. The photos I took when I was in Africa were all stored in an external hard drive which broke when I arrived in England. They are all gone now. No amount of tears will bring them back. The Historian has some saved in his laptop. Thankfully I also uploaded some in my flickr account. But that's about it.

ANYWAY, I've decidedto do something with some of my photos. So if you're interested, click here to see.

And if you've been following my blog, you'll know, that at the moment, I am without a camera. So I'm making do with all my old photos. Do tell me what you think.

BTW, the excerpts on the photo in this post was taken from the poem 'Effort of Speech Between Two People' by Muriel Rukeyser.

A Postscript: There's a Hole in the Bathtub

2012-02-19T11:18:00.002Z

'There's a hole in the bathtub

Dear plumbie, dear plumbie,

There's a hole in the bathtub,

Dear Plumbie that's what'

Our sweet-old-plumber accidentally drilled a hole in our brand new bathtub. The bathtub the Historian and I took ages to choose from, among hundreds of bathtubs. In the end, we ended up having a bath our sweet-old-plumber ordered for us from his supplier instead.

Moral of the story: Don't lose sleep choosing over bathtubs. You might just end up with something you haven't chosen in the end.

The bathtub we chose is lying somewhere in the Cornish dump... brand new, but with a hole in it.

Yes, shit happens.

What Old Age?

2012-02-18T17:41:00.002Z

We are having our bathroom done. It's actually become a saga. But I'll write about that when it's done. For now I want to talk about our 75 year old plumber who is probably even fitter than I am. He plays tennis and still accepts work like any regular young plumber. He says he wants to work for at least another five years.

There is no such thing as old age here in Britain. Age doesn't really matter as long as you're still fit to work. My father-in-law is 84, though retired, still occasionally gives out sermons at the Baptist church in Woburn Sands when asked. My mother-in-law is only two years younger, and yet has no trouble doing long-distance driving from Beds to Cornwall. Although of course, she shares the long drive with my father-in-law.

Every other day, especially when the weather is good, you will see an old man. He can be somewhere in his late 70s to early 80s. You'll see him on his bike, complete in cyclist's outfit, pedaling up the hills in Boscastle. And that my friends, is no easy feat.

If you've seen any episode of Caroline Quintin's program about Cornwall which I've been posting here. You might have seen that segment on that lovely couple who are both in their 80s and yet still go body-surfing as regularly as they can.

I would like to grow old like our plumber, my in-laws and that lovely body-surfing couple. I wouldn't want to grow old moping about, and talking about the good-old-days, instead of still living my remaining days as best as I can, be it cycling on the steep hills here in Cornwall, or body surfing in the cold Atlantic ocean.

On second thought, there's also nothing wrong with just being a frail-old-granny/lola, knitting quietly, or reading a book by the ocean in her chair with a nice-warm blanket on her lap ... right?

What's it like living in Cornwall? Ep 7

2012-02-15T14:19:00.000Z

Click here to watch.

What's your favorite Love Song?

2012-02-14T09:39:00.003Z

mine is 'At Last'. I thought this song was an Etta James original. Apparently, it was a song written by Mack Gordon and Harry Warren for a musical film, and was performed by Glen Miller and his orchestra, vocals by Ray Eberle and Pat Friday. If you want to know more about this song, click here.

This is my favorite cover of the song. Happy Valentine's Day people!

Leave a Note

2012-02-12T22:17:00.001Z

And I've edited 'Tell me what you think' to 'Leave a Note'.

It's lovely to hear from you, especially if I don't have any idea who you are. I've always thought blogging is a little bit like writing a message in a bottle. You never know who will read this and which part of the globe that person is from.

I've also changed 'Tell me what you think' to 'Leave a Note' because I think blogging should really be about you, what you want to write about, and not what others think. Unless you blog for a living, or are a slave to your audience and stat numbers.

But it's your blog, so it's your call.

So do leave a note when you drop by.

Thank you.

Wanting to go back to The Basics

2012-02-11T09:54:00.000Z

I began this blog in '09 because I wanted to start writing again. I wanted to find my voice, that nagging voice I've always had ever since I was a child, that compelled me to write, that same old melodramatic voice that said, if you don't write, you will wither and slowly fester away. Ah, the youthful cliches of my childhood! But it worked! That maudlin voice in my head was like a steam engine that made me pick up that pen, or pound those keys...(There is a house in my childhood that stands by a railroad. In that house we had a small library with an old type writer. That house still exists, it still stands, though it has been renovated. Gone are the cracks on the floor. But the house of my childhood still exists in my head. It's a place I like to visit time again and again, to find comfort, to find my childhood self).

So yes, I began this blog in the hope that I would find that melodramatic voice in my head once again.

But I got side-tracked with what I call surface-writing. But surface writing is fun! Actually, no, it's boring... but safe.

Where do I stand right now? I'm back in '09.

Oh but I forgot! How could I? Between '09 and the present, I became a mother! And all mothers love to talk about their children.

Did I tell you about that one time Tamsin did...

Photos of Boscastle in the late 18th Century to the present day

2012-02-09T17:11:00.000Z

Here's a picture of Forrabury Church taken in 1894. Picture credit: Francis Frith.

And here's a photo of the same church in the present day.

Penally point and Mechard Island, 1894.

Same scene, present day.

Entrance to Boscastle Harbour, 1894.

Same scene, present day.

Coast guard's hut from afar, 1984.

Same scene, present day.
Yes, time stands still here in Boscastle.

All old photos were taken by Francis Firth. To see more, click here. Present day photos were all taken by yours truly.

What's it like living in Cornwall? Ep 6

2012-02-07T18:10:00.000Z

Click here to watch.

My Shadow and Me

2012-02-07T11:45:00.072Z

My shadow and me,

my shadow and me,

we went to see...

the football field!

My shadow and me,

my shadow and me,

we went to see...

the slide!

My shadow and me,
my shadow and me,
we went to see...

the swing!

Weeeeeeee!

My shadow and me,

my shadow and me,

we went .... HOME.

* Based on a charming children's book called 'Monkey and Me' by Emily Gravett.

Today is

2012-02-07T10:25:00.000Z

Charles Dickens' 200th birthday.

Happy Birthday Charles Dickens! What's your favorite Charles Dickens novel? Mine is Little Dorrit.

So loved BBC's adaptation of the novel...

The sun is out today. Tamsin and I will take advantage of this and go for a walk. I'll have to bundle her up though because temperature has dropped... again.

Dear Reader

2012-02-05T16:19:00.001Z

my camera has fallen on the floor and the screen is now cracked...

And though I've written about getting a new one (in this post), and how it hasn't been working properly, I felt a certain sadness as I saw it lying on the floor with its cracked screen.

Yes, I do get attached to things. My camera and I have traveled a long way together, from the Philippines to Ghana (and all over Ghana), some parts of West Africa, and some parts of England, wales and Scotland. While I've had other cameras before this one, I am particularly attached to this now cracked camera of mine. This one has taken significant photos of my life, early photos of the Historian and I in Ghana, our honeymoon and the birth of my daughter. Yes, some of you may think I'm being too sentimental, mawkish even. But I don't care.

Excuse me while I write an ode to my camera.

Winter has come

2012-02-05T15:37:00.003Z

It has been a winter wonderland for some of the people here in the UK the past few days. But the good thing (or bad, depends on how much you like snow) about living near the coast is that it isn't as cold as living in the midlands. So while the rest of the country have been enjoying/hating the snow, we have been snow-less. Though in spite of being snow-less, it has also been freezing cold this week. But over the weekend, the temperatures have been up again. And if the weather forecast is correct, it will stay that way this week.

When I first arrived in England, my then future-mother-in-law said to me 'Don't worry, it never snows in Cornwall.

And then this happened:

Of course, compared to the rest of the UK, this was just a dusting of snow. And then the next year, it snowed again. So yes, it does snow in Cornwall, even if you live by the coast. But as of writing, we have been spared. It's only the first week of Feb, winter isn't over yet. It would be nice if it snowed, would love to take my daughter out and play in the snow, even if it's just a dusting. Tamsin hasn't seen snow yet. She would enjoy that.

Michael Nyman's Music

2012-02-03T09:39:00.000Z

I've just re-watched the movie 'The Piano' on Film4. Now this piece has been playing in my head ever since...

British composer Michael Nyman also made the soundtrack in the movies 'The End of the Affair' and the 'English Patient'.

Don't you just love his music? I do.

Do you wonder what it's like

2012-02-02T12:00:00.001Z

to lose your son and after three months also lose your husband? Oh that doesn't happen in real life, that only happens in soppy TV movies. Actually, no. It does happen...

And it did happen to Lisa King. Click here to read her blog.

Mood Swings

2012-02-02T11:43:00.001Z

My camera is as moody as I am.

Took that picture of Tamsin playing peek-a-boo a few minutes ago and it seems that it is working again... or so I think.

I've also found the camera I want, but now that I'm a mother, I always feel guilty about spending much on myself. I keep thinking I should be spending it on my daughter, the Historian, our needs, or our house.

Oh dear.

The Skin I Live In

2012-02-01T19:18:00.001Z

Pedro Almodavar's movie 'The Skin I live In' is every man's worse nightmare.

It stars Antonio Banderas who looked actually quite good in this movie. Actually, he didn't only look good, but was actually good.I think it also had a lot to do with the fact that he spoke his native tongue, Spanish.

It also starred the very beautiful Elena Anaya, who was also in Almodavar's movie Habra con Ella (Talk to Her). Apparently, she was also in the movie Van Helsing, but I didn't see that. And also Marisa Paredes who was in the movie Habrancon Ella too, and Almodavar's famous Todo Sobre mi Madre (All About my Mother), and also in Guillermo del Toro's, The Devil's Backbone. All the movies mentioned here are all worth watching, except for Van Helsing but only because I haven't seen it and won't be able to share my opinion.

'The Skin I live In' is a suspense film with blood and murder. But it isn't like any suspense film I've ever seen before. It could be different because it is after all an Almodavar movie. I won't spoil the plot in case any one reading this wants to watch it. All I can say is that the plot is something you might have talked about over a couple of drinks. One of those 'What if you woke up one day and _____ ' type of questions.

Watch the movie and you'll know what I mean. Here's a sneak peak:

What's it like living in Cornwall? Ep 5

2012-01-31T13:21:00.002Z

Click here to watch.

Is Everything really Rosy?

2012-01-29T15:55:00.000Z

I subscribe to a lot of blogs. Admittedly, a lot of them are what the historian call 'Momsie blogs'. What are momsie blogs? They are obviously blogs written by mothers. They write about their kids, and also about their crafts or hobbies (whatever you want to call them). They are all good with DIY projects, name it, they'll make it! They can sew, recycle old clothes into new-fashionable ones. Really, Martha Stewart could even learn a thing or two from these women. Hang on, one of them did guest at a Martha Stewart show! Yes, these women mean serious business.

ANYWAY, I do wonder a lot about these picture-perfect moms, with their seemingly picture-perfect lives and think... Are they for real? Or are they like the Stepford Wives? This is just silly-old-me thinking aloud, or more like, writing aloud.

The great thing about having your own blog is that you can post about ANYTHING you want. If you want to come across as having a picture-perfect-life, it's your call. You'll only be lying to yourselves anyway. No one would really know, or care for that matter. Not that I'm saying those Momsie blogs are lying about anything at all.

Why do I like reading them, you may very well wonder? Because their recipes are all bloody good! My cakes on the one hand, may not turn as perfect as their cakes, but the historian and Tamsin would vouch on how good my cakes are. And who is to argue with a historian and my 17 month old daughter? I dare you to even try =p

Is my blog a momsie blog then? I do occasionally post recipes and I do write a lot about my daughter. Perhaps, I am. But I tell you, I'm no way near as talented as those momsie blogs are. Like I said, they can bake, sew, and make things out of nothing! Plus, they really look-like they've got picture-perfect lives and their pictures always look like they've been professionally photographed.

Here's one of the momsie blogs I follow. Click here.

A Better Day

2012-01-27T13:44:00.003Z

Yesterday, was a better day, weather-wise that is. The sun actually came out! It wasn't a shy peep, it came out in all its golden glory, rays stretched out, (well at least that's how I imagine it would be like), in full beam. It was a good day to take a walk to the park.

So hand in hand, my 17-month old daughter and I set out to begin our little adventure. But as we reached the top of our street, my daughter who has a mind of her own and likes to remind me of this in every opportunity she gets, like this one, let go of my hand and walked in the other direction. Just to remind her where we were going, I said to her using my 'serious mommy voice', low tone and all 'Tamsin, that's not the way to the park, this way sweetie'. She turned and gave me the 'I'm going this way Mommy whether you like it or not' look. So I sighed and just followed her. If she doesn't want to go to the park, fine by me.

We looped around the village (Upper village that is. We only go down to the village when we have guests to show around the place to. Going down the village with a toddler, and WITHOUT a buggy, is no easy feat AT ALL).

It was a nice, peaceful, but very slow walk as my little-very inquisitive-companion would stop every few paces to scrutinize whatever has grabbed her attention, after asking a 'What's this?' question. Tamsin can recite a kilometric 'What's this' set of questions like a litany of novenas which would make the nuns in my former school proud.

The walk was a good one, slowly but steady, till we reached the puddles... Sigh, the puddles. My daughter is obsessed with puddles. So even though she wasn't wearing her wellies, I let her go splish, splosh, splash, slish, splosh, splash, backward and forwards, again and again. After about 100x of splishing, sploshing, and splashing, backwards and forwards, again and again, I whisked her away promising that there were many puddles ahead of us. I lied.

But she she was tired and didn't seem to care much. And unexercised mommy was carrying her now. By the time we reached our front door my arms were aching like hell.

All photos in this post were taken by my phone since I am camera-less. My phone and I are going to be best friends again. You see, in my past life, when I had a career (Career? What is that word?). I was never without my phone. But ever since I moved to England, my phone has been gathering dust... not anymore.

Camera Trouble

2012-01-26T12:10:00.002Z

Before leaving for Ghana, I bought myself a small compact digital camera. A Canon Ixus 900 Ti. It served me well. It was small enough to fit in my jeans pocket. An Aussie friend of mine and I backpacked through Togo and Benin during our Christmas break in '07. She had a big camera, and every time she had to take a photo, it would take her ages to get it from her bag. All I had to do was fish mine out of my pocket, point and click! Easy

peasy.

But alas, that little handy gadget of mine, is about to say goodbye (or so I think).

For the past few days, every time I would take a pic, it would turn into a white ghostly picture. Sometimes, it would take an alright picture like this one (which I took a few minutes ago before sitting down to write this post).

Not that bad right? Then this would happen:

And this...

And this!

Oh dear indeed. It isn't so bad actually. I've been meaning to save enough money to buy myself one of those digital rebel type of cams. Yes, I know they're big and chunky. And might actually be such a big waste of money on me because I'm not a very good photographer, most of the time I don't know what I'm doing. But I want one =p So now might just be the time to get myself one, or not, depending really on how much money I have. So let's see.

***

My little girl is 17 months old today. Whoopie-bloody-doo-dah.

What's it like living in Cornwall? Ep 4

2012-01-24T12:48:00.001Z

Click here to watch.

The English weather

2012-01-20T16:16:00.011Z

is a bit bewildering these days. It can't seem to make up its mind whether it's winter or early spring.

One minute the temperature drops and I'm in my layers again. The next day, it's actually warm enough to wear a short sleeved shirt inside the house and today was one of those days.

So we went to the beach.

View of the beach from the pub.

After a pint each (Tamsin had fish fingers), we went home. Yes, the pictures look very 'wintery'.

The spaces between my paragraphs are back... oh dear.

The Sense of an Ending

2012-01-18T11:40:00.006Z

I've just read Julian Barnes latest book, 'The Sense of an Ending'. I have some questions ... (If you haven't read the book yet but intend to read it, please don't read this post).

1. Why did Veronica's mother will Tony, Adrian's diary and £500?

2. Why did she even have Adrian's diary. (Yes, I know they obviously had an affair).

3. Was the affair a serious one, especially since she did say in her letter that he was happy in the months before the suicide?

4. Why did Adrian commit suicide? I know he discussed the reason in his letter. But once you've read through the book, one can't help but wonder whether his affair with his girlfriend's mother (not to mention the pregnancy), may also have been the cause.

Excuse me while I read the book again.

What's it like living in Cornwall ep3

2012-01-17T17:43:00.000Z

Click here to watch.

'Cheers'

2012-01-16T15:54:00.003Z

she says to me as I hand her, her toothbrush, as if I'm not her mother, as if she's an adult and not my 16 month old baby.

I don't really know where she's learned to say that word. The historian rarely uses it and says 'thank you' instead. He only taught her to say cheers when clinking her beaker with his beer or wine glass. Thats about it.

My daughter continuous to astonish me everyday.

Early Spring

2012-01-15T11:34:00.000Z

It started out as a cold, cold, gray, gray winter morning when we arrived in Exeter yesterday.

And then the sun peeked out from its ashen-colored sky...

Crocuses in early January? We usually see them in spring!

Tamsin and the pansies.

Wanted: A Job

2012-01-13T15:04:00.001Z

I have over 15 years experience working in the media back home. Here in the UK, I have none.

I have a 16 month old daughter, so my dream job right now is to do freelance work for Cbeebies. And so a few months before the year 2011 ended, I sent about 20 job applications out to the different production companies whose programs are shown over at Cbeebies.

Only one was kind enough to reply, Tiger Aspect productions, makers of the charming show 'Charlie and Lola, and 'Tinga, Tinga tales. They replied with the usual 'Thank you for contacting Tiger Aspect Productions. Your CV will be kept on file and we will contact you should any suitable positions become available'... at least they replied, the others didn't bother.

I've been told that to work for the BBC, one has to know someone inside. The only one I know who works for the BBC is now retired and he used to work for the BBC World Trust. He was the same one who offered me work in Bangladesh. I opted out (for reasons I don't really want to write about now). So like I said, I know not a single soul who works for the BBC or Cbeebies, for that matter, not even a janitor, cleaning lady, or food server in their cafeteria (assuming there is one) who works for them.

Here in the UK right now, unemployment is growing, as cuts are being made left and right. A close friend is in danger of losing her job. But unlike the rest of the population, she is not worried. She has a back-up plan of escaping to Costa Rica and teaching ESOL. In fact, she's actually looking forward to being redundant. If only a lot of people were in the same situation as hers. In the news, you'd hear sad stories about people losing their jobs, and because of this, some are even in danger of losing their homes. And it's only the beginning of the year.

So I should count my blessings I guess. At least, the Historian still has contracts. We have a home without a mortgage, not one single debt, the Historian and I are healthy, our darling daughter is healthy, smart and beautiful (despite the really bad haircut she has now which isn't even her fault. I'm the culprit).

But it would really be nice though to have more freelance work. It would really be nice to work for the Cbeebies. Am I asking too much? Yes.

A friend once asked me if I have any escape plan. I answered none (I think). But now I do... I'm still working on it though...

***

It's Friday today. Tomorrow, the Historian has a lecture to do in Exeter. So Tamsin and I are hitching a ride with him so we could do some mooching around. Then he'll be back in our bed on Saturday night. For those who are wondering, he sleeps in the the guest bedroom when he has to get up early the next day. Tamsin cries at night, and that keeps him awake.

***

Btw, I've changed the layout of my blog hoping that, that would solve the problem of the spaces in between my paragraph. It didn't =(

Safari in Winter

2012-01-12T19:55:00.001Z

The sign said 'Bears break wing mirrors. Please drive on'. There were no bears in sight. But I made sure that all doors were locked. (Not that bears are known to unlock doors). We did what the sign told us though, we drove on.

While visiting family and friends in Milton Keynes, we managed to drop by the Woburn Safari Park one Winter afternoon when the weather was good and the sun was out.

If not for the cold breeze, we could easily be on a real safari in Kenya.

The Woburn safari park is a drive-through park where you can see (safely within the confines of your car) wild animals like this rhinoceros, (above pic). They were so close to our car. It was actually scary! This was almost as big as our 4x4!

And this tiger who looked fed-up with tourists. He took one look at us and turned his back.

The wolves! Such lovely creatures! I was excited to see them. We saw this one pacing, and then he stopped as if to listen to something. He stood there listening, I wanted to stay awhile and watch but the Historian said it would be best if we drove on.

We saw the lions lazing around as their caretaker tried to herd them. We were wondering whether it was meal-time, but we never found out because we drove on.

And then we came upon this cheeky monkey who decided to do what we were doing--- he sat on our car and watched us through the windshield. When he got bored (humans are boring), he clambered on to our roof. I took the picture below through our sun-roof. We drove slowly, when he saw his stop, he clambered down without even a thank-you for the lift.

There are about 80 different kind of species in the park, but we didn't see all of them. We didn't see the giraffes up close. As we were driving to see the wolves, I saw their long necks from afar. But when we got to where they were supposed to be, they were gone. I didn't get to take a lot of photos either, because most of the animals were far from our car and I don't have a powerful camera. So I only managed to take a few.

After driving around for awhile, we decided to park and go to their 'Animal close-encounters'... like the penguins! And then one of the staff approached us and said it was closing time. Oh well.

If we only came earlier, we could have seen more. They have a Mammoth Play Ark, an indoor play area complete with super slides, restaurants and of course the usual souvenir shops. Nevertheless, all three of us had a grand time.

What's it like living in Cornwall? Part 2

2012-01-12T09:55:00.001Z

Here's the second episode of Caroline Quintin's feature on Cornwall. Click here.

Today

2012-01-11T15:37:00.002Z

The weather is good. 'Good' means it is just a bit over-cast. The temperature is still mild (it has been a very mild winter), and there wasn't much of a breeze.

So it was a good walk to Tamsin's playgroup with me huffing and puffing, pushing Tamsin's buggy up the hill and down the narrow little village lanes. It is a short walk, but that's just how unexercised I am, shameful really.

Tamsin had a good time playing with her boy friend, Philip, who is two months older than her, such a cutie. Then she had fun gluing bits of paper everywhere. When that bored her, she ran outside to play with the cars. Later on I had to drag her back home, whinging, bribing her with a bottle of her favorite strawberry milk.

Then I huffed and puffed all the way back home again.

That's my little girl. She loves to swim on the floor & yes, I am a bad mom for trying to cut her fringe... now it is uneven. Oh dear.

Housemates

2012-01-11T09:34:00.002Z

I have this housemate, the Historian. He is not really small, and in the privacy of our home, he is very funny. The historian is my husband, but now he has moved into our guest room, and so I call him now, my housemate.

But this is only temporary. The Historian works from home most of the time. But there are months, like this one, when he has to do an hours drive to the city to do some work for a college. There are also days when he has to drive to Exeter, and Bristol for some lectures. But most times, the Historian stays with me and my little companion. By Friday, he'll be sleeping with me and Tamsin again (yes, Tamsin sleeps with us).

I have this housemate, the Historian. He is not really small, and in the privacy of our home, he is very funny.

Sunset overlooking the Atlantic with my housemate and little companion.

Tamsin's Collage

2012-01-09T11:34:00.001Z

I made this for my daughter's private blog. Just thought I'd share this collage of my little bundle of joy, who isn't actually so little anymore.

My Little Companion

2012-01-08T17:48:00.027Z

I have this little companion. Her name is Tamsin. She is small and very funny.

She is 16 months old and likes to talk, whinge, talk, and whinge. Her current favorite words are 'car' and 'clock' to which she pronounces as 'cock'. At night, when I'm about to put her to sleep, she suddenly blurts out 'car', her brown eyes twinkling as if a Ferrari has just cruised by. She knows how to count, but doesn't start by 1, depending on what she remembers, she'll start counting by 3,6, or 7. 7 is her favorite number, so everything also has to end in 7.

She loves food. Give her anything and she'll eat it. Currently, her favorite fruit is 'papol', like the word car, she has this habit of saying 'papol' out of the blue just when we are about to sleep.

Her favorite toy is sheep. Sheep used to be as white as snow. But is now as gray as the hairs on my head. She tucks sheep under her arm and takes sheep with her wherever she goes. She has a special voice she uses when talking to sheep. It is a small, high pitched voice. She only uses it with sheep.

I have this little companion. Her name is Tamsin. She is small and very funny. She is 16 months old. She is my daughter.

What's it like living in Cornwall?

2012-01-07T11:10:00.001Z

Click here.

On the 12th day of Christmas my true love said to me...

2012-01-05T20:10:00.004Z

'we are the only ones left in our neighborhood who still have their Christmas decors up'.

'Should we put our Christmas decors down then?'

'No', he replied. 'The 12th day isn't over yet'.

So to commemorate the end of Christmas, and to say goodbye to the most perfect Christmas tree we've ever had, we decided to have a special meal. So we took the Christmas crockery out for one last time. Well, until the next Christmas at least. The Historian cooked the meal and it was yummy!
Here's a peek at our Christmas tree.

Goodbye Christmas tree, you served us well. You will be missed.

Tomorrow all the decors and lights will be gone. No more bright lights and decors to light up a dreary winter night.
When will winter be over? Winter be gone!

'My son is linguistically advanced'

2012-01-04T20:01:00.000Z

said one of the fathers in our daughter's playgroup Christmas party...

The Historian nodded his head. Then the same father went on to malign one of my daughter's favorite Cbeebies program, 'In the Night Garden'. Fine, maybe malign is too harsh a word, but to make the story short, he doesn't approve of such shows for kids because the characters don't speak properly. Iggle Piggle, Upsy Daisy, Makapaka, the Tombliboos, the Pontipines and the Wotingers are apparently linguistically challenged, according to this snobbish father.

For those who don't know, In the Night Garden, is a Cbeebies (BBC)children's program aimed at very young children (about 1-4). But my daughter got hooked with it as early as 6 months. The creators of the said program also created Teletubbies. According to the producers, they wanted the program to help relax children and help prepare them for bed. The episodes have very simple story lines. Iggle Piggle looses his blanket and the rest of the characters try to help him find it. Upsy Daisy is looking for Iggle Piggle but they keep missing each other, you get the picture. It's a fun program for young children, with a colorful and magical set.

Here's a sample of an episode:

As for me, I let my daughter watch it because she loves it. It's as simple as that. I made a mental note to avoid that dad. He's scary, too hardcore for me. I don't like pushy parents =(

Gray days and New Year's Resolutions

2012-01-03T18:12:00.003Z

It's hard to be positive when gray and rainy days abound. That's what it's been like since the beginning of the year. Although, yes, it's only the third day. And yes, this is England, so there's really nothing new about that.

We spent some time with the in-laws in Woburn Sands in Milton Keynes. It was good to see family and some close friends. But it was tiring. On our way back before the new year, we stopped by Bristol to see another close friend, and then drove back to Cornwall.

The next day was the last day of the old year.

And now it's 2012! 2012, sounds like a sci-fi movie where the world is going to end. But the world has supposedly ended for the nth time as so many people have predicted.

Anyway, yes, New Year's resolutions. I don't really follow them or even make them anymore, but I thought I'd make one just for the heck of it.

1. Put Tamsin in her own bed, in her own room SOON!
2. Do chores before anything else (e.g. blogging).
3. Write AGAIN. (This is very important, and I just don't mean blogging. I mean write creatively. So help me God).
4. Look for writing jobs online. (I need more income. I'm lucky to still have that writing stint I've been doing since 2005. But I have a feeling my luck will run out and my services will no longer be needed. So before that happens, I need to find other work... pronto!)
5. Take Tamsin out more often even if it's cold. I take her out more in the spring and summer. But I'm too chicken to walk in the cold. I hate the cold.
6. Wake up early-ish. My family and close friends know that I am not a morning person. The Historian is in charge of Tamsin in the mornings which allows me to have a lie-in. Time should be spent writing and not sleeping.
7. Read more. My books-to-be-read pile is piling up uncontrollably. (I say uncontrollably because the Historian is useless with discipline when it comes to book-buying. We pass a bookshop and browse and as soon as he sees me pick up a book. He'll say 'buy it' even if I protest knowing fully well that I still have so much books to read. So now when we go to bookshops I feign indifference. Not only is my pile, piling, but soon our little house will be filled up with books and there won't be any room to move or breathe).

And now I have to go because Tamsin is piling her books on my lap. She wants me to read to her.

I hope everyone had a lovely Christmas and New Year's eve celebration.

Oh and can someone tell me please how to fix the spaces in my paragraphs? I still don't know how to fix them. If not, I might change platforms =(

Happy New Year!

2011-12-31T19:07:00.003Z

May we all have more love, happiness, good health, wealth and peace in the whole world!

Happy Christmas everyone!

2011-12-24T15:31:00.000Z

From our family to yours.

2 Days before Christmas

2011-12-23T15:25:00.000Z

and my little girl starts teething again, complete with fever =(

Father Christmas, the donkeys and the £8 Cat

2011-12-21T09:10:00.001Z

We took our daughter to Trelissick Garden, another National Trust property to see Father Christmas (Santa Claus) for the first time.

She took one look at him and then cried.

He hands her a present. She thinks, 'Hmm, Maybe he isn't that bad after-all'.

Then we took her to see the donkeys.

We had to drag her away.

Then we went inside the National Trust gift shop and bought more Christmas cards. I saw nice Christmas decorations and couldn't resist, especially since they were being sold at 50% off.

Our darling daughter, picked something up too... A toy cat worth £8. She couldn't resist it too. But we didn't mind since someone sent her money for Christmas. To that someone, thank you!

Last Stop, Hardwick Hall

2011-12-20T14:43:00.002Z

Front

Being members of the National Trust, we've visited a lot of their properties all over England. And I must say, they are all very impressive. But for me, the 'grandest' property of them all, is Hardwick Hall in Derbyshire. It was built in the 1590s for Bess of Hardwick, Countess of Shrewsbury.

Back of Hardwick Hall.

Apparently, at that time Bess of Hardwick was the richest woman in England after Queen Elizabeth I.

Thanks to the National Trust, it is a very well-preserved building along with all its finest tapestries, winding stone staircase and furniture. It has huge windows and impressive high ceilings. It also includes one of the longest, largest galleries in any English house and in one of its grand rooms is a display of spectacular plaster frieze of hunting scenes.

The Hall also has a large collection of 16th century embroideries.

And of course, like all National Trust properties, the gardens are also worth a visit.

***

That's it. That's the last stop in the 2011 Holiday saga of the country mice. I wonder where will we go next year?

A Week before Christmas

2011-12-18T13:47:00.006Z

and my laptop breaks down.
Whoopie-bloody-doo-dah.

We are lucky to have a neighbor who repairs laptops. But our luck is running out because he is moving to the South of Cornwall, where, apparently, housing is cheaper.

Left a message on his answerphone.

Oh and there are annoying spaces between my paragraphs and I don't know how to fix it.

Whoopie-bloody-doo-dah.

On a lighter note, we are all set for Christmas. What about you?

Could this happen to you?

2011-12-16T22:49:00.028Z

I was washing the dishes when the Historian called out to me about a news item on TV. It was about a 38 year old woman who was found dead in her flat in 2006. Apparently, she was dead for three years before they found her.

Her name was Joyce Carol Vincent. She wasn't old. She wasn't an alcoholic, or an addict. She had family and friends. But I guess she wasn't close to them, otherwise this wouldn't have happened.

The sadder bit of this story was that she was found with wrapped presents near her body and the her TV was still on.

She was my age, that woman who died ... alone. And as a type this, I realize that could've been me. Of course, not now, since I'm married and have a little girl. But I used to live alone in my own apartment back when I was single and living in Manila.

But then again, it wouldn't happen to me. Though there were times when I lived like a hermit and friends had to literally drag me out for a night of fun. I come from a very close knit family.

So the answer is no.

If you want to know more about this story. Click here.

The Old Church

2011-12-16T15:40:00.010Z

I'm typing this as fast as I can before I hear a whinge from my daughter (again). I really want to finish these holiday entries before Christmas. So here goes.

Remember what I said about ruins? How much I love them? If you love old ruin, you'll love the old church in Heptonstall, Yorkshire. The old church was named after St. Thomas Becket and was founded around 1260. All that stands of that old church are its walls and tower. There is a 'new' church that was built around the 18th century and it is still standing.

The Old Church

This is all that's left of the 12th century church.

Don't you just love old ruins?

The Historian took that picture above. You can see the new church tower peering between the old arches of the ancient ruin.

There were a lot of old graves dating back to the 16th, 17th, 18th century. Imagine all those ancient dead people...

It was so eerie, walking around in that old graveyard in a late autumn afternoon. There was a mist that was creeping close by and it was also getting colder. So we headed back to the Inn where we were staying and sat in the pub with a big open fire.

To Marie, my Niece ...

2011-12-16T01:27:00.001Z

whose birthday it is today.

It is past one in the morning. Here in England, it is already your birthday. Happy, happy Birthday dearest Ayie. May you have the loveliest birthday ever! I have a confession to make though. I don't know how old you are! Are you turning 15? Surely, you're not 16 yet? Forgive your silly old Aunt, for that's what I am... old. I feel I am actually older than my age. Your mom btw, is older than me, and therefore is ancient. But shh, don't tell her I told you that =p

I couldn't sleep. I was lying in bed, squashed as usual, in between your Uncle and your cousin. They are both sleeping very soundly, thank you, and I'm not. But I won't bore you with the details. What I wanted to say was, I sat up and remembered that it's your birthday today. So I rushed downstairs, switched on my laptop, and decided to do a birthday post for you.

What do I say to a beautiful, intelligent niece? Don't grow up too fast. You'll get there soon enough, without you wishing your life away. Enjoy your teenage life. Don't be angsty like your Aunt or mother (hehehe). Be sunshiny and fun. Sunshiny and fun is cool. Try not to have negative and gloomy thoughts (not that you have them). Sing your heart out little girl, (you will always be a little girl to me), you have a lovely voice. Dream big and we will all be behind your big dreams pushing you forward. Love yourself, your brother, your Mom and Dad. This may sound corny, but don't forget your heritage. You have a big family in the other end of the ocean and I am here too. Do you know if I swam straight out into the sea from the Cornish coast, I'd probably reach America! But I'm afraid your silly old aunt is not a strong swimmer. Besides, it's winter and I may be crazy, but I'm not that crazy!

Happy Birthday again, lovely girl.

I'm going back to bed now. Here's hoping I finally fall asleep.

ps

If I don't send you a text message today, that will only mean that I've misplaced your number again.

Oh and have you read Sophie's World by Jostein Gardner and the Book Thief by Markus Zusak?

love,

Auntie Inge, Uncle Steve and Tamsin.

ps

2011-12-15T18:13:00.000Z

I'm decluttering my blog. So don't be surprised if you see changes over the week or so.

I want to go back to the old style of my blog. It was just white and simple, with this picture on top:

See that white spec on top of that little hill? It's the coast guard's hut. This scene here is about a 5 minute walk from our house.

I'm not sure if I'll use that picture again though. I'm feeling a bit restless now. I blame winter. I'm thinking of changing blogging platforms. As a close friend back home would say, bahala na si batman.

The List

2011-12-15T16:57:00.003Z

I found this list written on a postit. At first, I thought it was a grocery list. But then we just went grocery shopping about two days ago. Then I realized what it was. The Historian has listed words our 15month old daughter can say.

1. Bird (this was her first word apart from Dada).

2. Ball

3. Moon

4. Oh Dear (which really sounds like Oh Dee and she also knows how to use this expression in context =)

5. Cheers (Just shows that she is half British after all. The Historian taught her to say this and now when she's holding her beaker and sees us drinking, doesn't matter if it's only a cup of tea, she'll say 'Cheers' and insist on clinking her beaker on our mugs).

5. Daddy/Dada

6. Omy (That's me. But now she doesn't even call me Omy anymore =(

7. Car (This little girl loves cars).

8. Fish

9. Balloon

10. What's this/This is? (she'll say as she gets her big picture books and slams it on your face/or lap and demands you to tell her what's on the book.

11. Apple (Though it sounds more like 'papple')

12. Cockle-doodle-doo (Is that a word? Well, it's the sound the cockerel makes in her little book of words and she loves saying it).

13. Miaw (Fine, I know it's not a word, it's the sound a cat makes. But it's on the list the Historian made, go and argue with him).

Plus a whole load of baby talk. It's a pity I never manage to catch it on video. If you tell her off, she'll answer back in her cutie little baby talk. One thing for sure, she'll be a pain in the neck once she starts talking. I love my little girl so much.

Whoopie-bloody-doo-dah.

Finding Sylvia Plath's grave

2011-12-13T23:42:00.008Z

When the Historian and I first got together, and he found out about my love affair with the American poet Sylvia Plath, he said 'I'll take you to her grave'

And he did.

***

It was actually a very Sylvia Plath atmosphere, the day I found her grave amidst a sea of headstones. It was the same day we went to Haworth, Bronte country. (See previous post below). It was cold, dark and austere. My daughter was happily playing in the puddles with the Historian holding her hand, as we walked towards the new cemetery. (There is a another one, a very old one next to the church. I will write about that in another entry)

Entrance to the new cemetery.

I didn't know what I was expecting to see. A marker perhaps? Not as big as what the Bronte's had. But just to give us a clue that we were on the right track. There was no marker of course.

There were maybe about a hundred graves. Since it is a new cemetery it wasn't filled up yet. 'Oh dear' I muttered and prepared myself to go through each grave. The Historian said, 'You go through one row, and Tamsin and I would go through another'.

So we did.

'I've found her', he said.

I hurried to his side and found a decrepit looking grave. As if no one cared, as if she's been forgotten. Save for the hundreds of pens left there by her fans. And then I became emotional. It suddenly became difficult to swallow, and I tried to blink away tears. I just felt that her grave looked like no one cared AT ALL.

Yes, I know about the whole hullabaloo about her grave. How some hardcore fans of hers who hated Ted Hughes, and time after time would vandalize her grave and try to etch the name Hughes out of her gravestone. And yes, I know it was her family's wishes to have the grave remain that way.

***

I was about ten years old when I first read about Sylvia Plath. It was an article about her death in an old 60s magazine I found in a dusty wardrobe (or cabinet as we would say back home), filled with old magazines. I don't really know what compelled me to tear the page from the magazine. But I did and hid the article in my journal.

And then I was introduced to her poems and never stopped reading her.

And I would reread her again and again over the years. At 20, 30 and will probably read her again when I'm 40. To me, reading her poetry over time, is like deciphering a coded language. Each time you read, you discover a different meaning.

I haven't read her again lately. I ought to.

***

Dear Visitors of Sylvia Plath's grave,

Please don't clutter her grave.

***

Dear Sylvia Plath,

Thank you for the words.

November Graveyard

The scene stands stubborn: skinflint trees

Hoard last year's leaves, won't mourn, wear sackcloth, or turn

To elegiac dryads, and dour grass

Guards the hard-hearted emerald of its grassiness

However the grandiloquent mind may scorn

Such poverty. No dead men's cries

Flower forget-me-nots between the stones

Paving this grave ground. Here's honest rot

To unpick the heart, pare bone

Free of the fictive vein. When one stark skeleton

Bulks real, all saint's tongues fall quiet:

Flies watch no resurrections in the sun.

At the essential landscape stare, stare

Till your eyes foist a vision dazzling on the wind:

Whatever lost ghosts flare

Damned, howling in their shrouds across the moor

Rave on the leash of the starving mind

Which peoples the bare room, the blank, untenanted air.

'I've been meaning to get that sorted out'

2011-12-10T18:38:00.002Z

said our landlord at the Inn where we were staying at Heptonstall, Yorshsire, when we asked for the key to our room. Apparently, some key-stealing guest nicked it.

The room was a drab, but it had a fridge (good for keeping Tamsin's milk fresh), a microwave and a TV. We eagerly switched it on and looked for Cbeebies, thinking that would keep Tamsin preoccupied and we could unpack in peace.

But no channels. We turned to the landlord again and apparently since switching to digital, guess what, he's been meaning to get it sorted out.

He then informs us that that the Inn has wifi. Yay to that, but again, we couldn't seem to get a signal. The Historian and I rolled our eyes as we tried to connect for the nth time. I bet, he's been meaning to get the wifi sorted out.

Apart from a slanting and creaking mattress, wallpaper peeling off, a filthy microwave, the Inn actually wasn't that bad at all, especially if you're the type who do does not get affected by these ' little details'. (Though the first night, I lay in bed, scared to fall asleep in case there was a fire. Since like almost all of the houses/buildings in Heptonstall, the Inn dated back to around the 16thcentury. It had thick walls, and the windows didn't open. If there was a fire, the Historian, Tamsin and I would be toast).

Like I said, if what I mentioned wouldn't bother you, I'd recommend the White Lion Inn, especially since it has a lovely pub with a big open fire. And if what the landlord said was true, Ted Hughes and Sylvia Plath used to go there and they carved out their initials on a table. But by the time the present landlord bought the pub, the said table had long been turned into ash.

Oh and btw, about the wifi, it's not because he's been meaning to get that sorted out, the walls were just too thick for the signal to get through. Hehe.

What I like about Winter

2011-12-07T22:59:00.002Z

Everyone says the only good thing about winter is Christmas. I agree, but Christmas only happens in a day. What I like about winter, is that yes, it's almost Christmas, but more importantly it's time to dust out the Christmas decors, and decorate the whole house with lights, and bright reds, and bright greens, colors which I normally wouldn't use around the house unless it's Christmas.

Like I said in my previous post, it makes the house look festive, look fun, look cheerful, never mind if it's only 4 o'clock in the afternoon and it's already dark outside. Never mind if it's so bloody cold and you keep rubbing your hands to keep it warm.

Only during Winter would you hang a pink-tin-Santa Clause from a garland. (Come to think of it, I'm squinting at this photo right now and making a mental note to check if this little pinkie is really frowning).

Now here is my daughter's Christmas stocking, waiting to be filled. All our house needs now is a Christmas tree, especially since all the gifts have been wrapped... just waiting.

So yes, what I like about winter is that you have an excuse to deck the halls with boughs of holly falalalalalalalala. The house looks cheerful, even if you're not.

But at least my daughter is, and that's what it's all about, isn't it?

Bronte Country

2011-12-06T14:37:00.001Z

There was a soft drizzle as we walked the cobbled stones in Haworth, Yorkshire. First stop was the parish church where Patrick Bronte (their father) was curate. They are not buried in the church cemetery, but in a vault beneath the church itself.

Inside the chapel.

Bronte marker found at the entrance of the church cemetery.

As we walked through their house pictured below, I could imagine the three gifted sisters, Anne, Emily and Charlotte with their heads down, scribbling furiously and perhaps, also their brother, Branwell who also wrote poetry in his lifetime. He was also an artist before succumbing to drugs and alcohol.

The Bronte family though very gifted had a tragic life. Their mother Maria died when they were very young. And all children did not live a long life either. Maria, the first daughter died at age 11. And Elizabeth, the second died not long after that, at age 10. Next was Charlotte Bronte (author of Jane Eyre, Shirley, Villette, The Professor, and Emma). She was the only one who married and lived till age 39. Next was the only male, Patrick Bronte. He died at the age of 31. Then there was Emily Bronte, author of the famous Wuthering Heights, dead at age 30. Last was Anne Bronte, who wrote Agnes Grey and The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, she died at age 29. It was their father Patrick Bronte who out-lived them all and died at the old age of 84.

I am reading 'Charlotte Bronte: A Passionate Life' by Lyndal Gordon right now and I am learning a lot about the sisters. They led a very solitary and sad life. Though of course, it may only be sad to the reader. I have only read Charlotte and Emily's books. I have yet to read Anne Bronte. Only a very strong woman, with a strong character and intelligence could write Jane Eyre or Wuthering Heights. Not meek and docile country women as their physical characters implied.

Driving away from the Bronte country, left me a bit with a heavy feeling, maybe because the weather didn't improve at all. It was as gray as it was when we first arrived. But it also had a lot to do with the tragic lives of the Bronte family.

Below is a picture of the surrounding scenery in Haworth, Yorkshire where the Bronte sisters lived. I imagine them taking their long quiet walks here. Each busy with their thoughts. Perhaps they were busy thinking about the characters in their novels, or maybe of far-away places they would never, ever visit.

'The very wildness of my sorrow

Tells me I yet have innate force;

My track of life has been too narrow,

effort shall trace a broader course'

- Frances (Charlotte Bronte)

And then ...

2011-12-03T23:24:00.004Z

after a long, long what seemed to be an endless road ...

We were back in England.

Whoopee-bloody-doo-dah.

Ferry Ride

2011-12-03T15:08:00.009Z

It's the third of December and finally, it feels like Winter has indeed come. The temperature has finally dropped and it is dark by 4pm. The nights are long and cold, and the days are short, cold and dreary. If not for the coming of Christmas, winter would be unbearable.

I'm back to blogging about our holiday. I want to get all posts done before the end of the year. It would be really odd to be writing about a holiday in 2011 in 2012. So I'm typing as fast as I can.

Like I said in my previous posts about Scotland it wasn't all rain and bleak weather during our stay there. We also had marvelous weather. The kind where everywhere you look the colours stand out (see pictures in previous post). And during one of those rare days, we did manage a ferry ride in Oban to the isle of Mull. But sadly, we didn't have time to go down and explore the island. But the ferry ride itself was well worth it!

A lighthouse between Mull and Oban.

This is a very Scottish landscape, a Castle ruin by the sea.

Another 13th century Castle, Aros Castle.

We docked in the Isle of Mull for less than 10 minutes. After passengers embarked, we traveled back to Oban.

Thinking of Scotland...

The Colours of Scotland

2011-12-03T15:06:00.001Z

Beautiful gray.

And more gray.

Everywhere is lovely.

A rainbow over the Loch.

And there is green and blue.

Two boats afloat on the Loch.

Clear, clean water.

The bluest blue reflection on still water.

Beautiful, beautiful Scotland.

Happy Early Christmas!

2011-11-28T21:12:00.001Z

In the Philippines, as soon as the 'er' months begin, expect to hear Christmas carols, and see ornaments being sold at the mall. Decking the halls with boughs of holly as early as November is not seen as unusual. Here in the UK, it is.

I've been really patient till this weekend. I managed to bully the Historian to get the boxes of Christmas ornaments out of the cold attic. So yes, I've already decked not our hall (we don't have one), but I've decked, or rather dressed the mirror in our living room and put my daughter's stocking up, and put a few ornaments here and there. That's about it. I'm afraid no amount of whinging or bullying will make the husband go out and buy a tree. So I'm being patient... for now.

Anyway, I'm sharing a lovely heartwarming John Lewis Christmas ad with you guys. Hope you like it as much as we do.

I'm not done with my holiday posts yet. Yes, I know I am so slow.

Old Ruins

2011-11-15T22:44:00.001Z

I love old ruins. I prefer exploring old crumbling ruins than castles that have been restored. I find them more romantic, and mysterious than a fully restored one. To me, ruins also have more soul. Does that make any sense?

In Scotland, ruins are as common as the red squirrels running around the Lochs. Like I said in my previous posts as soon as the rain would stop, and a glimmer of light would emerge, we would jump into our car and drive to the nearest ruin (in Loch Awe alone, there are about four ruins), or any place where we haven't been to before.

This is Kilchurn castle.

It is a 14th century castle said to be the ancestral home of the Campbell clan. The ruin is supposed to be one of the most photographed castles in Scotland. We weren't able to go near it since we were on the other side of the river. But apparently there is a road that leads to it. The locals told us about it the day before we were scheduled to head back to England. So it was a no-go for us.

Then there's Dunstaffnage Castle located about 5 miles away from Oban. This is a very foreboding old ruin and has a great history too. The famous 'Stone of Destiny' was brought to this castle from Ireland and in the mid 9th century Norsemen attacked from the west and moved the stone near Perth. The stone was used at the Coronations of Kings until it was taken by Edward I to Westminster Abbey in 1296. Today, the stone is on display in Edinburgh castle, where it was returned to Scotland in 1996. It's also said that a woman in a green dress haunts the castle.

Within the castle grounds, there is a 13th century chapel ruin. It is said that the last Stewart Lord of Lorne died in the chapel while reciting his wedding vows. I have no idea how true this story is, so your guess is as good as mine.

Find the very cute little gnome with a Styrofoam sword below =)

It's been about almost three weeks since our holiday, but it feels even longer than that. Waking up to a cozy little cottage by the woods, watching birds eat the crumbs my husband has left in the porch, while also eating breakfast, seems more like a dream now, a very, very, cozy, warm, lovely dream.

An Overdose of Winter

2011-11-12T18:12:00.000Z

I think I'm having an overdose of winter.

I'm getting sick and tired of waking up to gray, grayer, and grayest skies day in and day out.

I'm also getting fed up of wearing layers of clothing, especially once you leave the warmth of your house.

Winter is also making me sungit.

And it's only mid-December. It will become colder, and snow may come. In the Northern parts of England, it has snowed already.

Oh where, oh where is that blasted sun? In tropical countries, like where I'm from. Didn't mean that to rhyme. Oh well, whoopie-bloody-doo-dah.

Dear Stranger,

Are you enjoying your winter? Or is there winter from where you're from, or from where you are right now? Tell me what it's like.

Our Little Cabin by the Woods

2011-11-09T14:41:00.022Z

This little cabin by the woods was our home in Scotland for ten days. It was a cozy little home, with a nice small kitchen, lounge, a lovely bathroom and a very comfortable bed that fit the Historian, the Little Cornish Pixie and me.

Kitchen

Lounge

Bedroom

Bathroom

On the mornings when it didn't rain, my husband would put some breadcrumbs for the birds to eat. And at night, he would make jam and bread and leave them out for the pinemartens to eat. But of course, we never saw them. The bread would just disappear. We did see a tail of a pinemarten when we were driving back to Dalavich though. At first, we thought it was a fox. But the villagers said it was most likely a pinemarten.

Above is a picture of the back of our cabin and below is a picture of the woods that was just right beside it.

There are other bigger and luxurious cabins in Loch Awe, but for a small family like ours, this one suited us just fine. Would we recommend this cabin? Definitely, yes! Though it would've been nice if the cabin had a washing machine. To do your laundry you had to go to the community center which wasn't far but the machine broke when we were there. So if you were desperate you'd have to drive all the way to Oban which is about 45 minutes away. Other than that, we enjoyed our stay at the cabin. If you're interested in renting out this cozy little home away from home, please click here.

More pictures in and around Loch Awe.

Above is a picture of the Historian and the Cornish Little Pixie taking a walk in the Scottish woods beside our cabin. When the weather was really bad, we'd wait till it would clear a bit and then bundle ourselves in our rain gear and go for a walk in the forest or the Loch.

We were lucky to see this rainbow. But it wasn't a sign that the rain would stop, it rained harder as we walked back to our cabin.

As I type this, already I miss our little cabin in Scotland. I used to lie in bed at night and just listen to the rain. While there were other cabins near us, the quietness of it all (in

spite of the sound of rain), made me think that the three of us were the only ones there.

Autumn in Marazion

2011-11-09T14:39:00.002Z

Here's a little break from my holiday entries.

We went to Marazion the weekend we first arrived home (that would be about two weeks ago). Marazion is a small Cornish town at the tip of South Cornwall. The famous St. Michael's Mount is just 400 yards away from the little town. I first visited the mount in '09, for more of its history and pictures taken on a bright summer's day click here.

We had a nice lunch at the Godolphin Arms hotel where we enjoyed a most lovely view of St. Michael's Mount. Then we went back to the car to put on our wellies before heading off to the beach. It was a dreary, windy, gloomy day. But that didn't affect my daughter's enthusiasm as she toddled around in her pink wellies and greeted the waves with a giggle.

She fell, I think deliberately three times, as she watched the waves creep up into her wellies.

And then her hat was off. So we peeled her tights off and took her wellies off. Salty water poured out of her wellies as we took it off. Her coat was also wet, and of course her cardigan under her coat, and her nice green dress was also drenched. She didn't seem bothered about the cold, although she now looked like a little Victorian street urchin.

After changing the little urchin into dry clothes, we headed home. That was quite an adventure for our little girl

A Village called Dalavich

2011-11-07T21:47:00.001Z

The drive to Dalavich seemed like an endless one. It took us about three hours to get there from Mauchline. Although we did have stops of course, we had lunch at the Green Welly, where I had my first taste of Scottish soup, Cullen Skink. It was absolutely lovely. It had fish, potatoes and other yummy stuff in it. We also had the most delicious bread I've ever tasted to go with it.

After hours of winding roads, we finally reached the village of Dalavich in Loch Awe where our cabin was located. It is a very tiny settlement, around 50 houses, a social club (but it's actually more for the cabins but locals are more than welcome to use it) and there's also a a post office/shop/restaurant where they serve hot meals, takeaways and even milkshakes! It's a lovely, lovely shop with very friendly people. What struck us though about the people in Dalavich was that most of them were expats! Our cabin's cleaning lady was American, a New Yorker. And the shopkeeper's wife was Australian, and we also met some English folks who've moved to Scotland. So for a small place, Dalavich is actually cosmopolitan!=p

Village shop

Village church

A typical house in Dalavich

More to come!

Welcome to Scotland

2011-11-02T20:08:00.007Z

'I'm in Scotland!' shrieked an over-excited English teenager as their car zoomed past us in a service station in Gretna Green.

Admittedly, I was excited as she was but since I'm a mother and in my late 30s, I just couldn't show my enthusiasm as blatantly as hers. To think that we were only in Gretna Green, which is still very near England. Yes, that famous Gretna Green one would read about in a Jane Austen novel where young people would go to get married in haste. No, they don't do that there anymore... I think.

Though I was excited I knew we still had more than a couple of hours drive to Mauchline, where we were booked in a B&B for the night before finally driving off to that cabin in Loch Awe. And then as we drove further away from unusually sunny England, black clouds greeted us, which later turned into a heavy downpour. (This was the week where England experienced a sudden heat wave). And we were in a country where it rained, and rained, and rained everyday. But in spite of this, I still fell in love with the Scottish Landscape.

The Lake District

2011-11-01T11:56:00.001Z

Like I said in the 'Fat Lamb' post, by the time we arrived in the Pennines, my husband and my daughter weren't feeling well. The Historian somehow caught a stomach bug somewhere and my little girl had the beginning of a terrible cold and cough that would last all throughout our holiday (poor baby). So we weren't able to do much sight-seeing, and sadly, I wasn't able to take much photos.

Here are a couple of pictures of Lake Windermere which is apparently the longest lake in the Lake district. According to its website, the place has about 14 main lakes. Click here for more details.

We also got to visit Hill Top, Beatrix Potter's house, (a National Trust property) in Ambleside, a small village at the Lake District.

I understand now why people love to spend their holidays there. It is everything they say it was going to be, beautiful. And we were lucky the weather was good, the lakes are known for always having really wet weather.

Would love to go back and visit... next time.

The Cornish Little Witch and her Pumpkin Nick

2011-10-31T10:47:00.005Z

Happy Halloween from the Cornish Mice, the Cornish Little with and her Pumpkin Nick!

(First time I ever carved a pumpkin and I enjoyed it a lot =)

The Fat Lamb

2011-10-30T19:10:00.002Z

When we first started planning this trip, my husband said that he wanted to take me to places here in England where I've never been to before. He mentioned the Pennines and how different the landscape is from where we live here in Cornwall. And he was right, it was absolutely diverse. For awhile, I felt like I was in a different country. Imagine being stuck in a car for a couple of hours, seeing nothing but a long road of cars before you and then suddenly you see this...

Absolutely breathtaking! And there's miles and miles of this beautiful landscape everywhere.

We stayed at 'The Fat Lamb Inn' in Cumbria and loved it. It's every inch your English country Inn. They had a great pub which served good food. They had wifi. But since it's a 16th century Inn, the walls were so thick that you just couldn't get signal in your room.

We met a lovely couple there who said that they've been going back and staying in the Fat Lamb for about 15 years now. I don't blame them. I said to the Historian, do you think we'd end up like them? Frankly, I wouldn't be surprised.

Back garden of the Fat Lamb

Front

The Fat Lamb is about an hours drive from the Lake District. I know it seems far, but we loved our stay there. The landscape surrounding the Fat Lamb itself is superb, especially if you're an avid walker. The historian and I would've loved to explore the place, but not with a 13month old daughter strapped to you though. And actually, both the Historian and our daughter were feeling under the weather by the time we arrived there.

And at night you could hear the wind howl so loud it almost doesn't seem real. One can imagine a scene from a movie ... dark, rain, wind howling, the sound of a horse-drawn carriage arriving ... In keeper opens the door with a lantern. It is the 16th century ... you get the picture.

Would we consider going back to the Fat Lamb? Definitely! I think you should too!

Birmingham Lock

2011-10-26T14:04:00.021+01:00

I love boats here in England. When I say boats, I don't mean big boats or yachts. I mean those small-narrow boats you see in canals. I would love to travel all over in those little boats. I know some people actually live in the boats. Wouldn't that be lovely?

Our friend A and her husband brought us to see the locks in Birmingham. For those who don't know, a lock is a device used for raising and lowering boats between water to get to a different level. A bit like a 'lift'.

Luckily, a boat arrived in the lock, and we were able to see how it works.

You can see the first lock being 'open' by a man while the woman steers the boat through.

They have to wait till the next lock is open.

And when it is open, the woman has to steer it in. It's a hard job, but a woman has got to do it =p

As you can see, the woman here does it really well.

Who says women can't err... steer a boat? =p

See, easy peasy. Once in, you have to wait till the gate of the lock is shut ...

And wait till the lock is filled with water again.

And once it's filled up, and the boat has 'risen' up, onto the next lock as seen below.

And unto the next level of water ... By the way, we drove from Bristol to Birmingham. So yes, I should've posted this before my Chester entry. Next entry will be about the Lake District. Was it as lovely as everyone said it would be? Definitely!

Road Trip with a Toddler.

2011-10-24T15:35:00.008+01:00

Going on a road trip with your toddler can be a stressful experience, not just for you and your family, but for your toddler as well. Imagine being strapped in a car-seat for hours and hours and hours. How awful is that? Pretty awful I can imagine.

We traveled from Cornwall to Scotland, doing a few stops in between. We of course, did lots of stops for our 13 month old little girl to stretch her little legs and toddle around. But what really saved her (and us), from going absolutely nuts were 'In the Night Garden' magazines. In the Night Garden is one of our little girl's favorite Cbeebies program. She loves the books and magazines too. She can't read yet of course. But she loves looking at the pictures. She could spend hours just flicking through the magazines and looking at them, that gave us hours of whinge-less moments.

Below is a picture of her with her 'Charlie and Lola' magazine (another Cbeebies program).

We also brought her favorite books with us and every time I'd hear a whinge coming, all I had to do was whip up another book for her to look at...

... like these little books by Eric Carle author of 'The Very Hungry Caterpillar' (which also happens to be one of her favorite stories.

The trick to going on a road trip with a toddler I guess is bringing lots of different things (toys and books) to distract them from whinging. And when that doesn't work anymore, find a place to stop for them to have a little toddle around. Don't expect to stick to a tight schedule, because with a toddler with you, you'll never be able to stick to it.

Home Sweet Home

2011-10-23T13:27:00.000+01:00

We've been home since Sunday. But my little girl was poorly again. She's been nursing a bad cold and cough since Scotland and to top it all she's also teething! We brought her to see the doctor the other day, they gave her antibiotics and she's better now. Monday was spent with my baby glued to me, so there was hardly any time to do anything at all. Tuesday, we had to go to Bude to get a new washing machine. The day before we left for our holiday our washing machine broke down! And so we came home to a load of laundry, on top of our holiday pile. (We did get some done in Scotland and Yorkshire but that's about it).

To start things off, here are some pictures I took in Bristol about four weeks ago, during the Brisfest.

My little girl below, enjoying the festival.

It was great to go on holiday. I've seen parts of England I've never been to before. And yes indeed, the landscape is different. Will post pictures as soon as I can.

Scotland was stunning. And Yorkshire didn't disappoint me either. More posts to come!

The Chesire Cat

2011-10-21T21:28:00.021+01:00

This was written on a wall near the Cathedral in Chester, county of Chesire.

Dear Chesire Cat,

Yes, we did have an excellent day in Chester thank you. The weather was absolutely perfect. I think the temperature was somewhere in the early 20s. We stayed at a B&B that was only about a 20minute walk to the city center. It was an okay place to stay in for a couple of nights. Nothing great though.

But you have a very handsome city dear Chesire cat. We enjoyed exploring your Grade I listed walls. It reminded me a bit of our own walled city (Intramuros) back home in the Philippines where I am from.

I loved the shops in the galleries above the streets. One can almost imagine what it was like in the old times, especially since many of these old buildings are still very much preserved. And of course your much-loved Cathedral, which dates back to the Norman times. And the oldest Church in Chester, which is the The Parish Church of St. John the the Baptist. We also enjoyed visiting the ruins of the Chester Abbey. I love old ruins.

We had a nice picnic by the river Dee. My little girl enjoyed watching the ducks and swans in the river. There were lots of people basking in the last of the summer/early autumn sunshine. I also liked sitting by the river and hearing different accents, mostly Scousers.

My little girl also enjoyed toddling around Grosvenor Park. It was a lovely park with lots of beautiful flowers and trees.

So yes dearest Chesire Cat, we did have a lovely time at your city. Thank you!

All the best,

The Country Mice from Cornwall.

Just a quickie

2011-09-18T17:53:00.004+01:00

Saw this in yahoo news this afternoon. Click here.

This sounds like a plot from a Stephen King novel.

Actually, if I could just kick myself in the butt and get on with it. I wouldn't mind writing it myself!

Maybe not a novel, a short story would do.

Hope everyone has a great week ahead of them. We're off to Exeter tomorrow to buy Tamsin some Autumn clothes (clothes she'll be wearing in Scotland! Yay!). Our Scottish friends said that the temperature will definitely be not higher than 8 degrees, or did they say 6? Brrr.

The Country mice go on Holiday.

2011-09-17T20:34:00.019+01:00

We've been planning on going on a holiday for ages. The original plan was to do a European road trip, France-Spain-Belgium-Germany etc (I love road trips, for me it's a better way to see the countryside and it also gives you the freedom to explore). Anyway, but my wings have been clipped because of my Citizenship application (long story). So we've decided to go to Scotland instead and see parts of England I've never seen on our way there.

Below is a map of England. the blue line follows our trip from Cornwall to Scotland (and stops in between). The red line follows our trip back home. Yes, it is a long, long, journey.

1st stop - Bristol. The Historian has his last scheduled lecture for the OU. So we're driving to Bristol on Friday to stay with our good friend S. Then he has to drive back to Taunton for lecture number 1, then drive back to Bristol for lecture number 2 on Saturday.

Second stop - Birmingham. We're staying with another good friend A and her husband. A was our flatmate in Ghana. She and her husband spent a couple of days with us a few weeks ago and they invited us to stay with them.

Third stop - Chester. It's an Old Roman and Walled Medieval City. We're staying here for a couple of days, just enough to explore the place.

Fourth stop - Kirby Stephen. We will be staying at an Inn that's been around since the middle of the 16th century. How cool is that? Kirby Stephen is also near the famous Lake District. I'm really looking forward to visiting that area since people talk about how beautiful it is. Let's hope I'm not disappointed. We also plan to visit Beatrix Potter's house (Hill Top). Good thing, we're members of the National Trust, so we won't have to pay entrance fee.

The next day, we drive off to Scotland! Stopping at a place in Southern Scotland for a night, before driving off to our final destination in Scotland where we plan to stay for ten days!

We are staying in a woodland cabin by the Loch Awe. So they'll be lots of walks in the forest and by the lake. Why ten days? We plan to explore Scotland, well, atleast places near Loch Awe. We also plan to ride a ferry in Oban that will take us around the islands. Maybe even visit the real 'Balamory', (it's a children's show on CBeebies). The real Balamory is actually a place in Scotland called Tobermory on the Isle of Mull. It's known for it's colorful houses. Click here for some images of Loch Awe. Absolutely beautiful!

And on our way back from Scotland. We are stopping by Heptonstall to pay my respect to Sylvia Plath (a favourite poet) and also to visit the place where the famous Bronte sisters lived.

You may be wondering why we chose a place to visit (Loch Awe)that's even more remote than where we live? Well, we are after all country mice. That's what we prefer, although we do plan to visit Edinburgh some other time.

Early Autumn at the Beach

2011-09-17T14:52:00.014+01:00

We had a terrible week. The weather was awful and my baby was teething again. Two little teeth appeared at the end of her 4 day ordeal. And yesterday, the sun came out and my baby's fever was gone. Whoopie-bloody-doo-dah! To celebrate, we hopped into the car and headed for the beach.

I know, it doesn't exactly look like good beach weather. These photos were taken around 2pm and it may not have been good beach weather but the people on the beach must have decided that it was perfect for a game of cricket on the beach!

As for the Historian and Tamsin, pictured below were busy looking for a perfect place to build a sandcastle.

When the tide is low, Crackington beach has lots of little rock pools for kids to play in (Adults too actually, the Historian loves rock pools!)

Yes, gray clouds were just hovering by...

And my little girl was a happy bunny with her green spade (above), and red spade pictured below, helping her Dad build a sandcastle.

Then we went home and the little Cornish Pixie fell into a deep, deep sleep within minutes after her bath. Ah, bliss!

I'm going to write about our impending holiday to Scotland soon! Yay! In about a week we'll be slowly heading for the Scottish highlands, stopping in a few places I've never visited before. Whoopie-bloody-doo-dah!

Cute Songs

2011-09-12T15:42:00.002+01:00

Same guy, but this time the song below is also from the movie Shrek.

Enjoy!

Summer is Gone

2011-09-10T08:40:00.001+01:00

It's another dreary and gloomy day. Dark austere clouds are constantly hovering above us. Sunshiny days are gone now. The night is closing in.

But on the bright side (if there is one), autumn is here. I love the colours of autumn. Crisp golden leaves falling, and the beautiful colours changing.

Picture below was taken in Stratford-Upon-Avon. See previous post.

Yes, I've changed the design of my blog background again. It's fun! Try it and of course, I've used a design from Shabbyblogs again. I love their designs.

Autumn is a nice name. Wouldn't you want to name a daughter Autumn?

To Be or Not to Be

2011-09-09T19:06:00.002+01:00

In connection with my recent post, I'm sharing this video from youtube. What a smart two year old! Enjoy...

For the love of Shakespeare

2011-09-08T19:07:00.018+01:00

We visited Stratford-Upon-Avon a few weeks ago, and did some touristy bits. Went to Shakespeare's birthplace, the house of daughter, Susanna, and the church where he is buried. We didn't have enough time to visit the other tourist spots like his wife's cottage (Anne Hathaway), nor his mother's house (Mary Arden). Nevertheless, the visit was still worth it. I think it would be nice to spend at least a couple of days there. That will give you enough time to go to all those places and watch a Shakespeare play.

Shakespeare's birthplace.

I enjoyed the walk by the river Avon to Trinity Chapel where Shakespeare is buried. We passed by these boats. Notice the names on the boats? I found that really charming.

And someone decided to have a laugh and erased the B and R in this sign (look at the inner bit).

Below is Trinity Church where Shakespeare and his family is buried. He was also baptized here.

Inside the church and Shakespeare's grave.

This is what's written on his grave:

'Good friend, for Jesus' sake forbear. To dig the dust enclosed here: Blessed be the man that spares these stones, And curst be he that moves my bones'

The Negligent Blogger

2011-09-08T15:36:00.004+01:00

That’s who I am.

I envy bloggers who post regularly, especially bloggers who have full time careers, and mothers, and yet still have the time to blog.

When I’m not blogging I’m busy chasing my daughter around (yes, she can walk now), or it’s the other way around. She chases me around, wanting mommy to hold her hand even though she obviously knows how to totter around already.

When I’m not blogging I’m busy reading other people’s blogs. I’m currently hooked on what my husband call mumsie blogs. I also like reading crafty blogs and blogs about decorating.

When I’m not blogging I’m busy reading a book. I’m currently reading Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett, a gift from a friend. My husband read it first and found the book funny. I need a laugh now, having just finished reading a very serious book by Spanish writer Javier Marias. No laughs there.

When I’m not blogging I’m busy trying to beat a weekly deadline. Though truth to be told, it’s more like lazily trying to beat a work deadline. I still do some content writing for a company back home. I’ve been writing for them over six years now (too long). But hey, it’s still work even though the pay isn’t much.

When I’m not blogging I’m busy being a mom and wife, cooking, cleaning, doing the laundry/dishes/ironing and all other things moms and wives do.

My question is, to those who post entries regularly, how do you do it?

On Friday

2011-08-23T18:41:00.004+01:00

... my baby will turn a year old. Wow.

The Bristol Harbour Festival in Pictures

2011-08-20T11:42:00.000+01:00

Yes, I know. This is another belated post. I've been busy since the festival. Anyway, really enjoyed this. There were rides, different stages, you could watch acrobats (see pic below) on one stage, a concert on the other. There were also lots of different food stalls, stalls with baskets and other stuff. I wasn't able to take much pictures. It's difficult when you have a baby with you.

I had a senior moment during the festival, as we stood up to look for a pub to park the Historian, Tamsin and our friend T. S (another friend), put our rubbish inside a plastic bag, I did too (or so I thought). Then as we passed the bins, of course, we threw our rubbish in it. In the pub, just as we were leaving the Historian, Tamsin and T, because S and I wanted to go back and watch the concert. I couldn't find Tamsin's bottles anywhere. It turns out that I threw her bottles (it was also in a plastic bag) in the bin, thinking I was throwing rubbish! Definitely a senior moment there, either that or early signs of Alzheimer's.

I have no idea who that man with a hat is. I didn't even notice him when I took this picture. I guess he just wanted to pose =p

Below is a video of a Ghanaian band all the way from West Africa. Listening to their music made me miss Ghana again.

I passed my 'Life in the UK' test. Whoopie-bloody-doo-dah!

pps

Seven days from now and my baby will be a year old! Here's a double whoopie-bloody-doo-dah for my little girl.

Gone for the Weekend

2011-07-29T21:23:00.005+01:00

We're off to see the Bristol Harbour Festival tomorrow. Yay! The Cornish country mice are going to the city! Whoopie-bloody-doo-dah! And they're spending the night with a dear-old friend. Wooh-ho!

Have a great weekend everyone!

Norwegian Wood (The Movie)

2011-07-27T22:56:00.005+01:00

I'm a big fan of the writer Haruki Murakami and Norwegian Wood is one of my favorite among his novels.

Having recently re-joined Lovefilm, the Historian and I had the chance to watch the movie based on the film last night.

This movie is a feast to the eyes. It has beautiful cinematography, and some really, really good scenes. The actors were also really good. Now if only the movie was shorter, it would've been a really, really good film.

If you've seen the movie Norwegian Wood, tell me what you think.

What's your favorite Amy Winehouse song?

2011-07-25T10:53:00.001+01:00

This is mine. As you know, I love sad songs.

RIP Amy Winehouse.

Beach Weather

2011-07-22T22:00:00.008+01:00

We've been having really crappy weather lately. I've been thinking summer is gone and it's actually autumn now. Maybe even the beginning of winter. But today, it all cleared up towards the end of the afternoon. So by 4pm, we were at the beach.

This is Our Neighborhood

2011-07-22T12:19:00.014+01:00

Would you like to live here?

Quiet Time

2011-07-14T14:44:00.004+01:00

Today, the daughter and the husband are out on a date. They went to see the otters. I opted to stay behind so I could have a date with me, myself and I.

What did I do? I tried going back to bed and hiding under the duvet, but the sun was too bright, and I couldn't go back to sleep no matter how much I willed myself to sleep.

So I got up, did some chores and went out into the garden to cut some flowers. I love the cornflowers. They also look really nice in our living room. I can't take a photo of it, because the camera is with the husband and the daughter.

It was nice sitting on the lawn and cutting some flowers, very meditative.

I've actually been feeling really down and homesick since yesterday. I miss my family and the Phil. I miss the intense heat, the craziness of Manila, my old life, going out on shoots for work, sitting-up-till the wee hours of dawn with an editor, trying to make an episode close to perfect, if not perfect. I miss beating deadlines, like serious deadlines, if you don't submit today, there won't be any script for the shoot tomorrow. The shoot will be delayed, and money will be lost.

I called up my mom, but for some reason she was unable to answer her phone. So I called up a very dear Aunt who is like my second mother. No, wait. She is my second mother. And like a mother, she just listened to me, which was nice, and comforting. And yes, I was comforted. Apparently, her daughter, who is like a sister to me, no, wait, she is my sister, has quit her job. That means, she might be free to come and visit.

Whoopie-bloody-doo-dah. That alone cheered me up.

I think I should write in my journal more often. I am someone who has always had a journal ever since I was a child. But somehow, I've stopped writing in it ever since I left for Africa. Save for a few sporadic entries in Ghana. I guess you could say I was busy living the experience. I wish I had written more.

I'm still using the same journal my cousin gave me for Christmas in '09 (same cousin I mentioned above), and it's already 2011.

But my fingers seem to have forgotten what it's like to keep writing. Perhaps, it's this blog? No. I like doing this blog. It relaxes me. And it's fun to post pictures. Blogging to me is a little bit like scrap-booking. It's fun and creative.

It's past three in the afternoon. I look out the window and I see our laundry (all white), being blown by the wind. It is calming to watch. The view from my kitchen window always takes my breath away, especially in a clear sunny day like this one. But the view is wasted on me. I'm remembering a conversation I had with a writer friend when I went home to the Phil for a visit. We've just attended the Spanish Film festival and were having a very late dinner. He asked me to describe the place where I lived in the UK. I said, green-rolling-hills, rugged-cliff-tops, ocean views, very old churches and old cemeteries etc.. etc... etc... He said 'I could kill for something like that'. And then he said, 'Then why aren't you writing? You have no excuse!

Back then, indeed, I had no excuse. I was married but did not have a baby. I absolutely had no excuse. It was just sheer utter laziness.

I have an excuse now. I have a ten month old baby... So the pages remain empty.

Living the Dream

2011-07-08T12:01:00.000+01:00

Saw this camper on our way to the beach yesterday. It was headed for Polzeath. A popular beach here in Cornwall. Can you see the words 'Living the Dream', painted on it? Bikes attached to the end of their camper, heading off to the beach in great weather. For some people, that is indeed, living the dream.

Living here in Cornwall, where it's a popular tourist destination in England, we tend to stay away from the beaches during the holiday season. We go somewhere else, or we go to the beach during the weekdays when it is less crowded. Everywhere you go you see campers (like this one), holidaymakers, making the roads busier than usual. During off peak season, the only traffic you get around here is when you get stuck behind a tractor.

Cornwall is a beautiful place to live in. We are surrounded by sea and rolling hills. The nearest beach to where we live is a mere 5 minute drive away. We wake up to the sound of seagulls, crows, blackbirds, pigeons and other birds. I guess some may say that we are living the dream.

What is your idea of living the dream? Does it involve a camper van, waking up to the sound of sea-gulls and living on the edge of the world?

For my sister.

2011-07-07T16:39:00.000+01:00

Summer Blooms

2011-07-06T16:09:00.011+01:00

Here in the UK, you say 'green finger', not 'green thumb', when saying you love gardening. I don't have a green finger. I'm afraid whatever I touch does not turn into postcard perfect flowers. Back when I was young, single and living alone. I killed everything I touched and that included cacti. Now I'm lucky to be married to someone with green fingers.

We may have a very small garden, with a postage stamp lawn, but we do have beautiful little blooms, and herbs in tubs in our little garden.

Love, love Cornflowers.

A beautiful mix of colorful Lobelias.

A mixed tub of different kinds of summer blooms.

And of course some Night Scented Stock plants. They give out such a lovely smell at night, hence the name.

Here are some old pictures from our then concrete garden. Click here.

Pimms O' Clock

2011-07-06T15:23:00.009+01:00

After the Duck Race last Sunday (see post below), the Historian, Tamsin and I headed back to our little cottage for some thirst-quenching-delicious Pimms. One thing I love about summer (when the weather is great), it's always Pimms O'Clock.

On a hot summer day, what more would you want in a drink? Everything one can ask for, you can find in a glass of Pimms...
Don't you just love summer? Would you like a glass of Pimms?

All About the Ducks

2011-07-03T17:43:00.007+01:00

The first duck race we ever went to was in '09. (Click here to see post). Little did we know then that we'd be coming back in '11 to watch the race with our ten-month-old-daughter.

The Boscastle Duck Race is a yearly fundraising event for the Boscastle Primary School. It's a nice yearly family event to go, especially when the weather is great. And last Sunday, the weather was fab.

While waiting for the duck race to start, there were lots of things to do and see like the Human Fruit Machine.

And tents selling cakes, plants, and of course, a bouncy castle.

And a padding pool with ducks!

Little boys playing bowling with wooden bowling pins.

And face painting!

Children and grown-ups alike had fun watching the duck race.

And at the end of the race, the plastic ducks had to be collected one by one.

And Tamsin's duck was among the hundreds of ducks who didn't make it to the finish line.

Perhaps next year, Tamsin's duck will win.

King's Chapel

2011-07-02T15:15:00.000+01:00

Another very belated post. Came across this un-posted entry today. It's about time I posted this.

The following pictures were taken when we re-visited Cambridge last March. Click here to see entry.

Movie Plot

2011-07-01T11:30:00.002+01:00

As I came online this morning, this news item caught my attention. Click to read here.

And I thought this only happened in the movies, or during the Victorian times.

Silly me. This is England.

A very Belated Post

2011-06-30T13:57:00.000+01:00

Here's the Strawberry Short Cake I baked for the Historian on Father's Day. It looked really good. But I was disappointed with the cake. I should have been suspicious when the recipe said 5 tsp of baking powder. Yes, there was a strong taste of baking powder and I didn't like it at all. But of course, he ate it nonetheless.

I'm not sharing the recipe here because I don't think it's worth sharing at all.

Birdhouse, Summer basket, and Blue Sky

2011-06-27T10:43:00.004+01:00

It was a very hot day yesterday (Well, at least England's version of 'hot'). In some parts of England it was 28 degrees. It felt about the same here in Cornwall. Really nice weather. Everywhere was blue.

We had a barbecue, of course.

And at night, we slept with our windows wide open.

Today, mist has enveloped our little village. That's the English weather for you.

An Incident at a Garden Center

2011-06-24T11:39:00.013+01:00

We went to the garden center to buy some plants for our summer hanging basket. We were so busy choosing plants, we didn't notice Tamsin pick a flower and put it in her mouth till I heard her chewing.

'Did you give her something to eat' I asked the Historian.

No, he said.

O-oh.

So we tickled her to try to get the flower out. It took some time because our little girl hid some bits hidden in her palette. After a few more tickles, holding her upside down and stares from the other customers, we got the poor mangled flower out.

Have no idea what what kind of flower it was.

Dear Mutt,

2011-06-23T21:22:00.010+01:00

We miss you so much.

Love,
Inge,the historian and Tamsin

Finger-lickin-good

2011-06-23T08:00:00.004+01:00

Hi. My name is Indian and I'm a KFC addict.

Yes, I love KFC and I know it's junk food. But I still love it. The Historian knows I prefer KFC to any fine-dining restaurant (yes, it's that bad). When we go out, he is relieved when I say 'Let's eat someplace else', meaning not KFC, like that nice restaurant in Exeter. But if I had my way, we'd eat in KFC every single time we go out. But of course, I don't like inflicting pain on my loved ones.

Thank goodness for this recipe I found in the Sunday times a few months ago. This recipe is a life-saver. It's so good, I'm actually willing to give up KFC. Fine, I'm lying. Okay, it's so finger-lickin-good, I'm going to reserve KFC for special occasions (like my birthday). So if you love KFC or chicken the way I do, this recipe is a MUST!

The Chicken Bucket:
125g self-raising flour
2 tsp celery salt
1 tsp sea salt
2 tsp black pepper
2 tsp paprika
1 tsp cayenne
leaves from 4 twigs of thyme
2 tsp dried oregano
3 cloves of garlic, crushed
2 tsp ground corriander
200ml milk
4 chicken thighs and 4 drumsticks (I also used chicken wings. I love chicken wings!)
vegetable oil for frying

Blend the flour with everything except the chicken, milk, and oil and tip into a bowl.

Heat the oven to 200C/Gas Mark 6.

Put the milk in a bowl and dip each bit of chicken into it, then into the seasoned flour, pressing it in so that it is well coated. Dip into the milk again and give it a second go in the flour. Put to one side while you coat the other pieces.

Heat 1-1 1/2 of oil in a frying pan, until it browns a bit of bread in about 30 seconds. Fry the chicken in batches for 1 1/2 minutes each side (don't crowd the pan or they won't brown). As soon as they're done, put them in a roasting tin that's large enough to leave space around each one.

When all the chicken has been browned, put it in the oven and roast for 25-30 minutes, turning the pieces halfway through. If you want, check the chicken through with a skewer, making sure the juices run clear.

It tastes absolutely finger-lickin-good. You probably noticed in my picture that it looks a bit over-cooked. That's the way I like my chicken.

T is for Teething

2011-06-22T10:34:00.018+01:00

She looks at me like a frightened animal and screams in pain as if she is being ripped apart. Come to think of it, she is being ripped apart. Only it is her gums that's being 'ripped' apart, as her little teeth come sprouting out like little seeds one has sown before springtime.

Poor baby.

She has four-teeth-and-a-bit now. I dread those teething moments. It comes every 3-4 weeks, usually it begins mid-week and lasts till the weekend. Will someone explain this to me please? Why mid-week? I find that such a mystery. She becomes even clingier than usual, refusing to be put down. And so I become a doe, and she my Joey, this goes on for days and days.

Ah the nights.

The nights become one endless journey the doe and the joey have to take. The doe is weary without rest (and so is she!) The joey will not be pacified. Her cries become one with the night, as the wind howls in conjunction with her screams. By dawn, they are both exhausted and without sleep. This goes on for about 3-4 days, EVERY MONTH.

It is over now.

I await the next.

My poor baby.