Sennen Cove: the final frontier. These are the witterings of a West Cornwall shopkeeper. His seemingly interminable mission: to plumb new depths in literary rambling, to seek out the boring and banal, to boldly sink deeper than any Diarist has sunk before.
December 8th - Saturday
The breeze seemed to have dropped a little from yesterday, or at least the latter part of yesterday, and there was not quite so much howling going on overnight, although I was not really listening in the middle of a deep snooze. It was a little damp as we passed through the Harbour car park but that might well have been spray from the waves thumping over the footings of Pedn-men-du in quite a spectacular display.
Altogether, it was a much better day than yesterday, with no big squalls passing through. There was not so much in the way of brightness, though, and heading toward low water, the sea did not seem quite as raucous. This, it made up for later, approaching the late afternoon high water when the waves gathered momentum and came thundering into the bay.
The morning was filled with nothing in particular, although the Missus had expressed a wish to do the shop window Christmas display today. One of the first stages is to retrieve the platform from Shrew House where it has been since last year, gathering dust, among other things. It had taken until early afternoon for the Missus to be ready to collect it, whereupon she announced that the ladder, required to pull the platform kit from on high, was still up at The Farm.
On the face of it, this should not have seemed to be an insurmountable problem. However, we were aware that the lane had become exceedingly muddy in the recent rain, not helped by a dozen horses and a pack of hounds from the Sennen Feast hunt churning it up last Saturday. I suggested that we err on the side of caution, especially as we were late starting, and that we park at the F&L and walk over the fields to collect the ladder on foot. The Missus agreed that it was a splendid idea and that I should set forth without delay. You could probably have just fitted the edge of a postage stamp between my 'we' and her 'I', referring to me, in case you had missed the subtlety of it, too.
I took the bleddy hound in the full knowledge that I would almost certainly be scrapping with her to get her into the shower later on. In fact, the fields that we crossed were not too bad, being lush with grass. The lane was a different matter and several pot holes either side of the central grass were filled with muddy water. I suggested to the bleddy hound that she see just how deep and muddy they were, and she was keen to oblige. We discovered that there had not been too much damage to The Farm, although the roof of the big steel shed was creaking a bit. I was also ready with my camera just in case the barn owl was there again, but of course it was not, since I was ready for it.
The ladder we have is a collapsible one and folds down to quite a small package. This made it difficult to find in a shed full of all manner of, ahem, useful items. I called the Missus to make sure it was there before I spent ten minutes digging for it. Fortunately, it is also quite light and carrying it back down the lane and over the fields was not particularly arduous. The thing that made it more interesting was walking back into the wind that I discovered later had, again, peaked at 70 miles per hour at roughly the time we were exposed to it.
With the platform down in the shop, dressing the window could continue apace. The pace stuttered a little when it came upon the Missus that she could no longer staple decorations to the window frame, as we replaced the side window earlier in the year with a plastic frame. It then came to her that it would get no better when the front windows were replaced sometime in the new year. I did wonder for a moment whether I might have to cancel the work or ask them to put a wood covering around it.
Well, dear reader, that sound you just heard was the crust breaking off a couple of synapses as they sputtered into life. At the moment I wrote that last sentence, it did occur to me that a temporary wood frame may just be a possibility, to facilitate the hanging of decorations and Christmas lights. I will look at the options we have when the new frontage is installed. Gosh, I think I will have to lie down for a while.
There, much better. The bleddy hound was having none of going for a little walk just before tea and managed to complete her purpose on next door's flower pots having stretched herself to walk the minimum number of yards possible from her own front door. She had a better run than she had enjoyed for a while when we went to get the ladder, so it was not essential to walk any further. I would say she agreed.
I slipped away from the shop and left the Missus to it. It is one thing being useless and quite another standing around and looking useless; I could not even find a clipboard to hold. Instead, I put our curries from the freezer into pots for when the Missus decided it time to break free from the serious labours with the decorations. At least the bleddy hound ate when she was supposed to.
I will get around to putting some moving pictures on the website of the window, but I might wait until I am not blown half way down the street while making the film. It also proved difficult because the Missus had not finished it by the time I went to be, so I left her to it. Well, someone had to get up to take the bleddy hound around in the morning.
December 7th - Friday
The rain we were promised did come through in the early hours of the morning but was gone by the time I was up and about. Not only was the rain gone but the evidence on the street had gone as well; the wind that had been howling in the eaves for the latter part of the night had much to do with this.
The bleddy hound was not entirely convinced that it was a bright idea to run around the block, but she did reluctantly go. There was some showing of the heavy overnight rain further up where gravel had accumulated at the bottom of slopes like some 'O' Level demonstration of the process of alluvial river deposits in a river delta. This is very clear at the other side of the Harbour car park where the stony trail snakes down from the edge of the cliff.
The day simply got wilder from that point. Our wheelie bin made a bid for freedom in the middle of the morning, despite having carefully tied it up to its big brother at the bottom of our steps earlier in the week. This required some emergency tying up of the bigger bin to the shop wall on the hook put there for this very purpose. Both bins spent the rest of the day at the extremity of their tethers, slewed in the direction of the wind.
Mid morning and just getting started
It was bright, however, and the sunshine lit up the white horses in the bay, which were legion. By and large through the day we were dry more often than we were wet but when the squally showers blew through, they were vicious and ferocious. One, particular stood out from the rest, with rain smoking through The Cove in billowing clouds, while the sky turned a light sepia with harsh greys at its dark centre. The street light opposite the shop was bouncing around on its steel arm as the rain alternated with bursts of hail that came in sideways down the street.
It was definitely a day for staying in, although the Missus decided it was definitely a day for going shopping, so she did. She arrived back with Mother and in the meanwhile I laboured at putting together the order for the supplier that we had seen last week. This was slightly more problematic than I had hoped for and I had to make several trips down to the shop to check stock, which was exacerbated by a discount offer from our wetsuit supplier that diverted me for a while. It took me, pretty much, the rest of the day to complete and we will need to check it again before we send it off.
I had taken a break to run the bleddy hound around the block in the early afternoon, but we got as far as the harbour before she wanted to come back. I took her again before it got dark and managed to get her to the Harbour car park where generally she will continue without coercion. The sea was incredibly lively by this time - fairly close to high water - giving rise to the wonder of where it gets its energy from. It was very difficult to tear my eyes away from it, to be honest, as it was so alluring in its fury. It is not often that you see it quite as angry as that and successive waves were burying the Harbour wall. It was not quite coming over the top of Pedn-men-du, but curls of smoking spray were wafting away up there from time to time. We were blown back down Coastguard Row by a wind that had topped 70 miles per hour at some points during the day.
Angry sea in the Harbour
and some more
Much as it was refreshing and bracing and all that to be out there in it, I could have quite happily continued to watch it from the comfort of the living room. I was clearly not that committed to this, as I was there taking the bleddy hound out again in the late evening. It was just as breezy then, as well.
December 6th - Thursday
It started out as a grey, uninspiring and somewhat mucky day and ended as a grey, uninspiring and very mucky day. I was grey and uninspired, for sure, but I did have a shower in the morning, so I deferred being mucky at all.
Our hire car was due to be returned to the shop this morning but with our van only going into the repair shop later yesterday, it was not ready to be picked up. Our very pleasant garage man sent us an electronic mail last night saying that he had ordered the parts and if they arrived as expected then the van would be ready around the middle of the day. There was a shortfall of a few hours that would have meant getting a taxi back from the hire shop and, later, a taxi to our garage to pick up the van. Hiring the car for an additional day would be cheaper and more convenient, so we decided to do that.
As an afterthought, I agreed with the Missus that I would call our garage first thing to see if he had a loan car, as we usually have one when our van is being serviced, but that is more of a planned event. When I called, we were told that a car was not available, so we decided to telephone the hire company. Before we could do that, our garage man called back and told us that if we could pick up another car that was parked in town, we could have that for the day. This was of benefit all round, as it would save him having to retrieve the town parked car himself and us having to extend our car hire.
This left us about half an hour to pick up the keys from our garage, which is on the way into town anyway, pick up the loan car and drop the hire car back at the hire shop. It was a bit of a rush to leave The Cove, but we managed to all arrive at the hire shop with minutes to spare.
With that excitement out of the way, we met up with one half of the husband and wife building team who was just finishing the work we agreed and installing the new roof tiles. The scaffolding will come down tomorrow morning, we are told. It looks very much like they did a good job and I suspect that by tomorrow morning we will find out if our rain water is being successfully carried away, rather than squirting over the pathway at the front of the shop. They were also were very pleasant people to do business with and we will have them back again next year to do the last remaining launders on that side, with a bit of luck.
We did not have to wait long for the van to be ready to be picked up. Our man had very kindly squeezed us into a busy schedule but on the journey back home I discovered that, while the brakes worked, there was too much travel in foot pedal and it will need to go back on Monday for more bleeding.
I spent some of the afternoon preparing the paperwork for our quarter end at the accountants, which was fun. In the meanwhile, the Missus went up into the loft to seek out the Christmas decorations. Last year, I threw away a fair few boxes of the old tree lights and still had more than enough to decorate the tree and to light up the shop window, such that it was a bright and gay and still have some left over. Remembering that I had made the disposal, the Missus informed me that she would have to go shopping tomorrow for more tree lights. Apparently, bright and gay is insufficient for professional shop Christmas window fitters and bright and gay and visible through smoked glass from Mars is the benchmark. I stood corrected and made a mental note not to tell her next time I threw some away.
It has always been a bit of an effort to shift the number of boxes and bags involved, from the loft to the shop and back again each year. Picture, if you will, one of those Victorian etchings of great African expeditions, with bearers stretching in a line for miles but without the bearers - bearers are not available in The Cove near Christmas, for some reason. This, however, is the last year that this will need to be done, as from the end of the season this year, we should be able to store them up at The Farm, providing the lane is passable. Perhaps I should not have mentioned that yet.
Once again, there was no Lifeboat launch in the evening as we do so dislike getting the boat wet and the very excellent Shore Crew, despite their hard men image, are not too keen, either. It is probably just as well, as I am still on light duties until Monday, and I know that the rest of the boys and girl would have hated to go ahead without me. Instead, we sat around the campfire and sung jolly Lifeboat songs about the old days when tin hats, steel toecap boots and protective visors were for wimps and if you were not covered head to toe in grease at the end of recovery, you had shirked.
Being campfire rebels is one thing but heading to the OS for a spot of quizzing is quite another. There is no singing for a start and the camp fire makes a bit of a mess of the carpet. There is beer and answering questions and some people do this quite well. Some make a career out of doing it quite badly and, most of the time, that will be us. Tonight was no exception but at least we managed to win the raffle to have a shot at the chase the ace prize. Obviously, we lost at that too but did have a fiver to go home with.
Two forecasts had predicted exceptionally heavy rain this evening. From ten o'clock the heavens were due to open and the rain radar looked quite supportive. Come the appointed hour to go home it was dry as a bone outside and a quick look at the rain radar showed that the rain was at least 200 miles north of us. It was dry, too, as I took the bleddy hound around the block. As I write, it remains to be seen if we get wet at all. You will, no doubt, we waiting on tenterhooks for the result.
December 5th - Wednesday
I had an exceptionally refreshing morning. The first part of this was to step out in the cascading rain to take the bleddy hound around the block. It really was most unpleasant and presumably pays me back for letting the Missus do the same yesterday afternoon. Perhaps I should be grateful that Karma does not subscribe to the notion that revenge is a pudding best served cold and I have had my comeuppance over and done with.
The second part of my refreshment came as I took the bandages off my legs and was able to have a shower. The dressings came off and the paper stiches underneath with very little encouragement. I still have to wear the full length stocking, which is something, but there is hardly any evidence at all that I endured prodding and poking with sharp instruments and needles.
Our building couple arrived in the middle of our morning downpour and started work, bless them. Happily, the rain gave up a couple of hours later and by the end of the day we had a few lines of new slates, some new felt and fascia and new chunky launders that will hold a veritable flood, which might be useful if the climate change people are accurate in their assessments. In the afternoon they invited me up the ladder, just a few rungs, mind, to see the rotten timbers of an upright section that the downpipe screws into, a combination that seemed somewhat obtuse. It did not surprise me in the least, as it does appear that much of the building has been bodged together over the years by a variety of people with big intentions and small pockets and of varying degrees of expertise.
As having two skilled craftspeople on site were not enough, our refrigeration maintenance man turned up to service our fridges and freezers. The word 'service' may be a little strong to cover the work that was carried out; our man spent no more than ten minutes on each unit. They used to turn up with a vacuum cleaner which was something. Now, I think, it is just a matter of making sure that they all work. It did give me the opportunity to clear the shop window of its advertising and the screen, which I forget to update when things change. The window is now ready for the Missus and her Christmas display.
There was a bit of a gap between doing things in the afternoon when nothing much happened. We were waiting for the recovery vehicle to turn up so at least one of us had to be here. I was minded that I had not read the instructions I had been given by the doctor and had been relying on remembering what he had told me to muddle through. It was interesting to note that the paper stitches and dressing covering them "should remain in place for 5 days" and "do not soak the wound in water for 5 days". Oops, I do hope that bit was not too important as I would struggle now to even identify where the wounds are. The Missus said she would try and stick something over them later, but she will need a strong light and magnifying glass.
From late in the morning the rain cleared away and by the middle of the afternoon we had clear skies. The sea state calmed sufficiently for the divers to go out and replace the Lifeboat channel markers, mind, they got pretty wet doing it as they carried out the work while it was still raining. The improvement in the weather, however, was very short lived. By half past four o'clock the weather suddenly closed in again completely foxing me with getting the bleddy hound out without getting wet again. The Missus took the last shift as she had to go into the shop. I do not have to feel guilty about that one.
December 4th - Tuesday
The waiting on leg and foot seemed to have come to a pretty abrupt end at half past seven this morning when the bleddy hound needed to be taken around. I just about managed to drag my sorry leg to the bottom of our steps and get around the block, like an Igor in a Frankenstein film. Alright, it was nothing like that and I bounded around the route like a young gazelle but after the long wait I had for the work to be done, one day of sympathy just seemed a little bit slim.
I was told by the doctor that it would not take long to be all good again and that by today it would be perfectly acceptable to start walking about a bit, so long as I did not mind a bit of swelling up to start with. He said that I would be running marathons in no time, which is quite amazing since I was not able to do so before the procedure. Yes, yes, I am here all week.
It was not long after I returned with the bleddy hound that the scaffold men turned up. They arrived in advance of our builder who we had commissioned to replace the fascia board and launders along the side of the building. For some time now, we have been chasing an overflow problem around. It started, during heavy rain, all over the steps leading up to the front door and after two lots of replacement launders, we moved it to the opposite corner. Fed up with the water cascading down the corner outside the living room window, we have waited patiently - well, I have - for the timely meeting of budget and finding someone decent to do it, which happened this year.
I was about to wander out to see if our husband and wife builder partnership wanted a cup of tea but was beaten to it by the wife arriving at the door. She had come to show me that in the process of removing the old fascia boards, they had discovered that the lower roof tiles were in a poor state of repair. Not only that but the roofing felt underneath was disintegrating to the touch. I urged them not to touch too much more but agreed that at least the lower tiles would need to be replaced. The husband told me that the ones we had there were Delabole slate and expensive, obviously, but if we were willing to slum it, they had some spare Spanish slates at home they could use as replacements.
I did not give myself time to consider these options. I am sure if I looked I would have discovered that Delabole slate lasts three times longer than Spanish slate but since we only had leave to have the scaffold up for a day, we had no time to mess about, so I gave them the go ahead to replace the lower slates with Spanish slate and put the considerations to the back of my mind. It was later in the afternoon when they attacked the roof that they reinforced their point by showing us a slate that crumbled to nothing in their hands. It rather suggests that the rest of the roof is in a similar state, but I would prefer not to think about that.
I have not yet been absolved from resting my leg as much as possible, today. That all changes tomorrow, thank heavens. In the meantime, I spent the majority of another day on the sofa interspersed with a bit of running the bleddy hound around. I convinced the Missus that I could not possibly do the later afternoon run because it had started to rain quite a bit and I could not possibly get my dressing wet. There was some truth in that, as it would have remained damp and uncomfortable for some while after I had been out but there was nothing really to prevent me from slipping on my waterproofs.
Fortunately, our builders had remembered to bring theirs. Despite this, they still look bedraggled when they returned the tea cups at the end of the day. With the additional work of replacing the foremost slates on the roof they were unable to finish today, they will return tomorrow to finish off the work. We have had no opportunity to discuss how much the extra work will cost but since the scaffold was the lion share of the whole job, the additional work should not be too scary. Besides, I have not told them how much we charge for cups of tea yet.
I did the last bleddy hound walk mainly because I felt guilty but also because it had stopped raining. I also feel guilty that she has not had much of a run out in the last few weeks and that time is quickly slipping away from us. There is also not much fun for either of us doing it in the rain, so we may be forced to bide our time and wait for all the snow to arrive.
December 3rd - Monday
We had our first early start for a while, this morning. It was so early that the bleddy hound was not at all keen to get out of bed and who could blame her; it was still dark outside. I resolved the problem by taking a shower first and supping a cup of tea to pass the time until there was, at least, the smallest glimmer of light emerging through the gloom outside. We avoided the beach, although there was no sign of the pup seal, I think, but it was still too dark to see properly, so I erred on the side of caution.
The purpose of such an early start was to get me to the hospital on time. I had a quarter past nine o'clock appointment and we needed to drop the bleddy hound off at Mother's on the way there. We had booked a taxi for the purpose, as the van is still out of commission, which would go on to drop the Missus at the car rental place to the east of town, so we had some transport over the next few days. I called our garage from the hospital and set the wheels in motion for the van to be picked up and fixed.
In the mean time it was my turn to be fixed. The story goes back more than a year when my foot inexplicably decided to leak in the middle of serving a customer, fortunately a GP. After much delay, much of it my own as I did not want to be laid up during shop opening time, I had been booked in to have something done to stop it happening again. It had been explained to me that the doctor would strip a bit of three core, slip it down the offending vein and plug the other end into the mains. This apparently kills off the naughty vein and somehow makes all the returning claret take another route up my leg. It all sounded very clever, although I did wonder what would happen if the blood got lost.
I was about an hour late going into the surgical room, which was happily at the West Cornwall Hospital in Penzance; a trip up to Treliske would have been a royal pain in the bottom, as well as the leg. Other than the late start, I was very well served and can highly recommend getting something that needs to be fixed and going there because they are very good at it. The surgeon was clearly a watchmaker in his spare time; apart from the little sting of the anaesthetic needle going in, I hardly felt a thing - apart from what you might imagine someone sticking something the six of a six inch nail into the soft parts of your leg with a sledgehammer feels like - apart from that, hardly a thing. There were two nurses on hand, one to help and the other who insisted I talk to her while she held me down. She was very brave, as I natter a bit when I am nervous and with all those wicked looking machines and equipment about, I was very nervous. I did ask if the lights dimmed when they turned on the big machine, like you see in the movies, but apparently it runs on LEDs or something which does not draw so much power.
So that it does not hurt - too much, that is, of course - the doctor pings some anaesthetic into the leg all along the route that the stripped three core is going through. It was a little disconcerting as he approached the very top of the inside of my thigh and I told him so. He told me to be concerted, as he felt most comfortable with being up there, which of course was a great comfort to me, too. On my riverside side, lying on my front, they gave me a pillow to bite on, which I though very nostalgic in a political sort of way. It was quite tender up the back of my calf as well and the nurse agreed that it was really quite painful approaching the back of the knee. She then asked the doctor where he had got to, which was just short of there. It was really helpful to have that anticipation in my head as he worked his way up.
It was all over far too quickly. How are they supposed to mend something as tricky as a couple of veins in less than an hour, it really is quite wrong. They wrapped my leg up in mummyesque bandages then added a big full-length stocking, which was the best bit, obviously. I was so glad that I had chosen to wear shorts and flip flops for the occasion because no one would have seen the large bandage all the way up my leg or the alluring hosiery and would have thought that I just went in to see a relative rather than bravely undergoing ground-breaking surgery - and having two nurses haul a long, alluring stocking up my leg.
I was set aside in a recovery ward afterwards, which was the best placed to be awarded a cup of tea and some gingernut biscuits. The Missus was allowed in, too, although she had to get her own beverage and was not offered gingernuts. I am glad, as that would have devalued my award and my bravery in the face of overwhelming odds.
When I was allowed to escape, I discovered that the Missus had managed to hire the ugliest looking car I have ever seen. To compensate for having to travel in such a daft looking machine, there were a few bells and whistles to play with. These took my mind off the stares, looks of derision and people openly pointing and falling around laughing as we drove home. The most exciting of these bells and whistles is the parking camera, which turns on when reverse gear is engaged. Not only does it show a view to the rear and a view to the front but it also shows a view from the top. I must conclude that when the camera comes on, a long pole, some twenty feet high, extends out from the roof or somewhere and runs a picture so that the driver can see the vehicle position relevant to the surroundings. Spatial awareness used to count for a lot when driving, now any eejit can get behind the wheel of the car and park like a pro - although I would not necessarily count on it.
I had been told to rest for the remainder of the day and to rest some more tomorrow. Tomorrow might be a bit of a problem as we have builders arriving and the van to be moved. I tried doing what I was told in the afternoon, but I do get irritated by not being able to do anything and have the Missus wait on me hand and foot, well, more just leg and foot, really. I shall let her do that again tomorrow, if she really insists.
December 2nd - Sunday
Being as I could not get to the range today, I enjoyed a very uneventful time doing not a great deal. This, of course, does not make for great copy, even less so that a day at the range. It was also grey and damp, which was no encouragement to get out to do things other than the obligatory walking of the bleddy hound.
The first of these exciting events led us to the Harbour Beach, or at least the top of the slipway, for that is as far as we got before I spotted the seal pup down on the beach. I made a mental note to return with a camera just in case the rescue people wanted to see what age the animal was, then dragged the bleddy hound around the block in the usual direction.
By the time I had walked and fed the bleddy hound, the seal had made its get away. There was a track coming up the beach and another going back, and I thought for a moment that there might have been two seals as the marks looked fresh but then though how daft that notion was. It would seem that the young seal had made its entrance and exit in quite a short space of time and I reasoned that it was probably quite fit and healthy to be able to do so and did not need rescuing. I could be wrong, especially as it had most likely been hanging around for at least a week, but, there again, it is difficult to rescue a seal pup that is not there.
I spent the afternoon tinkering with my music on the computer. I have a rather boring session to undertake tomorrow and it will useful to have some sounds going off in my ear 'ole to take my mind off it and to mask the sound of medical equipment whirring away. I do hope it works - both the music and the medical equipment.
December 1st - Saturday
We opened the curtains to another dank, grey day. The rain had dealt with the brake fluid spill and there was no evidence left when I ran the bleddy hound out. There was, however, a seal pup on the beach which stopped her in her tracks when she eventually noticed it. She backed up several yards and started barking at it. I had to drag her away in the end she was so transfixed.
It is Sennen Feast this weekend, which means the Feast clay pigeon shoot behind the F&L. Fortunately, I had a lift up there and arrived early to help set up the shooting positions and the farm trailer shelter. I was definitely not on form and would have had more luck throwing stones at the clays rather than shooting at them. It was all very good fun, though, even when the cloud descended into the early afternoon, making it a tad difficult to see the clays. It was good to have an excuse for missing them.
At least the rain proper held off, although there was plenty of wet in the air all about us. There was also a fair draft blowing around the trailer but it did not seem to affect the clays too much - not that it would have made any difference to my performance.
It was almost a relief when the last competition was over. I would normally hang about to give a hand putting everything away, but there was an offer of a lift down to The Cove, which in the closing weather was difficult to turn down. It did mean missing a nice bit of stew in the F&L afterwards but the handing out of awards might have been a little too much to bear.
I managed to remember to take the bleddy hound out before it got too dark, which was around half past four o'clock. She headed straight for the beach and a couple of her pals who were down there ahead of her. There was the evidence of the seal which disappeared much earlier with the high tide. All the dogs spent about ten minutes sniffing around the spots where it had been. I will keep an eye out for it again tomorrow, as the likelihood is it is the same one that was here last week. It is difficult to know whether it is hanging around because of a problem, or it just enjoys being in The Cove.
The Missus delivered her ramen noodle dish in the evening. Thankfully the chicken feet were used to make some stock and not included while. It was very toothsome and looked just like the picture on the box. She knows a thing or two about knocking out some grub, does the Missus.
I had persuaded the Highly Professional Craftsman to drop his hard man of rock image and follow me to a musical performance at the Acorn Theatre in Penzance. Tonight, there was a Celtic folk band whose examples on the Internet showed a little diversity, which I thought might be a pleasing interlude from the normality of life hereabouts. I think that we might have been forewarned by the age and social deomographic of people attending that I might have been slightly wrong footed by my research. It was only into the second or third song that we realised that this was an unswervingly Irish diddly music band.
It did not help that we were heckled on our way into the auditorium, having ordered a drink at the same time as we were advised that the performance was about to start and were moments late in arriving. There is nothing wrong with Irish diddly music until about three songs in, when they all start to sound the same. The final straw was when the leader related the tale of a visit to Disneyland during its Welsh week and they had to hurriedly download some Welsh songs that could try and emulate. They decided to play one that they came up with; it was the same as all the other tunes they played but they called it a Welsh name.
The Highly Professional Craftsperson told me that it was up to me whether we continued or not. It was only later that I reflected that I could have made him sit through the second half as a jolly jape, but realised that I, too, would have to have done the same and no jolly jape was worth that.
We retired to our favourite in town public house. The bar staff are attentive but not overbearing and remember your round, the clientele are normal and friendly citizens and communicate with each other in quiet and non-offensive conversation. It is a place where you can go, have a few pints and have a chat without fear of anything untoward upsetting your perfect peace - and no, I will not tell you which alehouse it is.
We had to ask our taxi company - the Missus' cab is out of service - to collect us from a different location and earlier than agreed. We are very fortunate that we have two excellent cab companies servicing The Cove and even more fortunate that we know them well, having sent business their way during the season. It makes such a difference knowing you are in safe hands especially as the low cloud from earlier had established itself all across the moors between Penzance and home.
It was still dripping rain when I got home, so the bleddy hound was not at all keen to traverse the block. I agreed, and we only spent a minute or two outside.