Unofficially Official

Or is it officially unofficial? Either way, we have a tentative (but pretty certain) day and location for the wedding! Which means that weddingitis is setting in a bit. I'm finding that surprising, as I'd like to consider myself as something of an "anti-bride". I don't want to get so caught up in the hooplah of planning the sucker that I lose sight of WHY I'm getting married. So, ok, I love my fiance, and now I'm getting really excited about planning, of all things, my bouquet. Not my dress, not my colors, not the decor. The bouquet.

I found the COOLEST bouquets on Etsy. Several sellers are making (incredibly expensive) amazing bouquets using vintage flower pins and brooches.

From Etsy seller LionsgateDesigns

From Etsy seller TheRitzyRose

These bouquets are great for several reasons.

1.) The flowers never die! Hooray! Many of them haven't even faded after 20 plus years in existence.

2.) Each flower has a story. Each pin graced the blouse of a mother, daughter, grandmother, sister...perhaps a cross dresser...and each of them have a story too. The mother who wore a daisy pin to her daughter's wedding. The grandmother who wore a bright sunflower pinned to her Sunday best each week....the cross dresser who used it to complete shis Marilyn Monroe get up? I love things that have a story to them, and I like the idea that my wedding bouquet has numerous stories, since I'll be carrying the dang thing all day. And here is where you, dear reader, come into the equation...

I've been finding these pins on Etsy and Ebay, but apparently they are quite the hot item right now, and I just can't afford to spend $12/flower (let alone $450 for the bouquet!). Plus I intend to have this be a very crafty DIY wedding, informing you of my progress and process along the way. So if you have one of these pins gathering dust in a jewelry box, or in a box destined for Good Will, bring them into the store and have a part in my bouquet! I'll give you 15% off your purchase for your effort, and I'll gush and excitedly tell you all about my plans. Ahem. I mean, my amazing fiance. (It's a good thing he loves me too!)

Not local? No problem! Send me your flowers, and I'll send you a little somethin' fun from the shop!

In other store news, there is a brand spanking sparkly new website in the works! This updated format will allow me to keep the site much more current, bringing you information as it happens! As part of this new website, I'll be making some changes to the blog, bringing you more tips and jewelry ideas in addition to regaling you with fun little facts about my life as a business owner!

Success!

Sigh. Class is over, and it was great! I'm really happy with my "dated wallpaper" piece. It just needs to be assembled into a necklace now.


Last night after class I went to see the Brinks in Fletcher. Their house is really starting to come together and feel homey. Courtney made a delicious tofu and kale dish and we had some apple crisp that another friend Laura made. I introduced them to eating apple crisp with a bit of sharp cheese. Mmmm! Then this morning I checked out a few potential wedding venues. I saw Dreaming Mountain in Johnson and the Echo center. Really different places. Feeling like I need to start making some decisions but it's hard! Do I want a rustic dreamy wedding, or do I want something that is convenient to Burlington and full of fishies?

Ready for bed. It's been a fun but tiring week.

Metal Clay Day

This day started off so nicely. I went for a jog in the fog, had a delicious breakfast, then took a drive up past Celie's house to an artist whose name I forget, but who has a bit of a Andy Goldsworthy thing going on (or as Barb in class called it "Andy Goldsworthy lite".) It was very peaceful. The fog kept getting thicker, and in the midst of it were stone walls and cairns, sticks and branches neatly stacked and placed, and a pond so still and reflective I almost didn't recognize it as a pond. My Zen moment didn't last too long, however, as I tend to get a little bit persnickety and snappish when in class mode.

All in all though, today was much better since we were finally working in metal clay! It seemed like a breeze after struggling with the polymer. i made a tiny boo-boo by not listening to Celie who said NOT to embellish the back of your piece, so we'll see tomorrow after the piece is fired if that did damage to the piece. That piece also has a lot more going on with it than I typically would do. Tim Gunn would have told me to "use an editing eye". I was just trying to fill up a few gaps with some decorative elements, but it may have gotten a little busy. Then again, this is the 70's wallpaper piece, so maybe more really is more.

Everyone's pieces are really coming along nicely, despite a few setbacks and breakages. I'm really looking forward to seeing the pieces out of the kiln tomorrow.

I'm beat. Time to hit the hay and rest up for the final day. Sniff. Can't believe it's almost over.

A great wave and a swatch of dated wallpaper

Day two was better, though with it's own share of doubts and moments of triumph. We finished putting texture on our little polymer canvases, and then it was time to add paint. Watching Celie gracefully streak a paint-laden finger across the polymer with no apparent anxiety or doubt was truly watching an artist in action. I was itching to add paint to my own canvas. And initially, I was loving it. Absolutely freaking out with love for this process. But, then there came that moment of needing to self-govern, and, as that is something I have trouble with, I kept bringing my piece to the edge of perfection and instead of going, "ah ha! that's it!" I continuously plunged over the cliff of over-doing it and into a pile of poo. (Sort of like that ridiculous run-on sentence, which any English teacher would have cut off at just about "govern" but I, lacking that shut off valve, keep going until I'd gone too far.) I did end of getting two pieces that I am relatively pleased with, and I can't wait to visit Golden paints to pick out some acrylic paints and try this technique in my own space and time.

One of my pieces has a sort of Hokusai "The Great Wave" feel to it, so I'm planning to make a little porthole type metal piece to display my canvas. In my excitement, I forgot to double-check what a porthole looks like and went from memory. I should point out I've never been on a cruise ship and my boat knowledge is limited to a few sunfish and a ferry or two. So my "memory" of a porthole was not quite right and I'm afraid I've put the "bolts" on to the wrong section. And of course, I'm overthinking this bit too, but dangit! I want my port hole to look like a port hole! Porthole? Portal?

My other "canvas" looks rather like a dated wall paper sample. My first attempts at coloring this particular swatch of polymer were gifted, I must say. Then I came to the edge of that cliff...then I went over it...and then I went over it again. After about the 5th time of wetting and sandpapering off my paint, I turned to a paintbrush. The end result looks something like this:


But tomorrow things will start to come together, and again, I'm learning a LOT! Even just watching Celie and others in the class work is teaching me a bunch. And I'm not the only one struggling. It's hard to see work from a master and then try to duplicate it even a tenth as well on the first try. Some in class have done amazing work, but even they don't recognize it. We're our own worst critics.

All in all, a good day. Ready for a bed and a fresh start tomorrow!

Back in class

Today was day one of Celie Fago's polymer inlay technique class. I must say, I'm having a hard time getting into "class mode": That willingness to try something new and fail or have the end result less than perfect. For a perfectionist, it can be brutal. I'm not even sure if I'm so much a perfectionist as much as anal and a bit of a control freak. It's hard to work outside your comfort zone, not only in technique, but also in physical space! Especially coming after a week in England in class mode. I just want to make something I'm proficient in! I'm anxious to get into my own studio, and letting all these new ideas and techniques imbue my new work.

But, complaints aside, there is nothing like taking a class at Fago Farm. Check out the view I have from my work table:


So amazing. I think all I need to do is let that beauty in and whatever I make will reflect that in some way. Today was working strictly in polymer, which I haven't done in years. And the clay has changed a LOT since I was making little scientific models and miniature food for my doll house. First we made some tear-away techniques with Sculpy III then moved into Premo to come up with a color palate. I was REALLY good at making baby poo green, mud brown and grey. Siiiigh. I kept getting these great color combos, then I'd want to put it through the pasta machine just one more time, and it was that last time through that messed me up every time!



Look at this lovely palate!

So, I've had less than successful results with my tear-away textures, less than successful results with my mixtures of poo browns, but tomorrow is another day. I'm going to go to bed, let these ideas absorb into my brain and hope that tomorrow I will be inspired and in class mode!

I've lost that loving feeling.

So, first the plane is almost 2 hours late taking off. Supposed to leave at 3:45 and left at 6:30 because of a broken wheel. Coming in for a landing above Chicago was like flying over a circuit board. Went from a gorgeous patchwork quilt of greens, yellows and browns above Ireland and Southern England to a circuit board. It felt less like flying over my homeland than did flying over the UK. Plus, upon landing the girl in front of me had to use her vomit bag. Frequently. Juicily. Welcome home.

Ugh

So I got off the plane and there are pieces of paper taped to a wall just after the walkway from the plane. One of the papers has my name on it...inside is an apology for making me "miss my flight" and a voucher for a hotel room. My thoughts went immediately to the dogs. I have to get back to them tonight. I'm NOT missing my flight! It's 7:50, my flight leaves at 9:15. I rush to customs, where there is a massive line. I get through the huge line and the two checkpoints and asked the last checkpoint guard if I could still make a 9:15 flight. She looked at me like I was crazy and said "if you run". So I dropped off my suitcase and ran to the commuter train. Which took for stinking ever. At this point it is 8:35. So then I get to my terminal, and I had to run like a mile to get to the security gate. At which point I discovered that the security gate was closed and I had to run the whole way back to the other side only to realize I didn't have a boarding pass. I was only able to print one for London, and was supposed to get the Syracuse one in Chicago. But there is not a single ticket open and the self serve kiosk doesn't accept my booking number. Finally I find a person with American Airlines. She tells me she can't print my boarding pass because the flight is in final boarding. I ask her if she can try. She gets into computer and has to override stuff, and she is able to print pass, but says "you probably won't make it". A bunch of quitters. So I go again to security and I'm putting my shoes back on when my carry on bag gets taken off the line because it contains "liquids". The guy tells me I can't take the ginger preserves or pickle that I got at the duty free in Heathrow because they are "liquids". Ok, glass is one thing and yes, they are glass jars of preserves. But they are also sealed containers from duty free which made it safely on a 7 hour plane ride from London and I have a 1 hour flight to Syracuse and they get confiscated. I understand the whole needing to be vigilant against terrorism, but seriously. Sealed. Jam. Receipts. Not liquids. Not bombs. And they took my dang pickle! Then he started to tell me that "once you leave the airport you can't get back in with liquids" and I was like "I never left the airport!". Then I realized that arguing with an inflexible security guard was a huge waste of time. So I was like "great thanks" and grabbed my un-confiscated stuff and kept running. At this point it is 8:50 and my flight leaves at 9:15. Leaves. As in in the air. I run and turn the corner for my gate, which is G16. To my dismay, I round the corner to gate G1. Sixteen gates may not sound like a lot, but try it after traveling for 13 plus hours, carrying a bunch of extra weight in the form of carry on luggage and with an untied shoe lace. I squeaked into the departure gate as they were announcing the final boarding for Syracuse. Finally someone in this hell hole of an airport was friendly to me (after his coworker barked "Syracuse? Hurry up!") and for what it's worth, he gave me a first class seat...though this is a mini plane with no real class differentiation. But I was right up front, second one off the plane. The tears started to well up at security but I resolutely held back. They started to well up again when I sat in my seat, sweating profusely, and realized there will be no one to comfort me with a hug and welcome me home when I touchdown! But I can't wait to see my dogs they and they were the compelling force behind me high tailing it through my least favorite airport in the world.

Saw a lightening storm on the plane. The ground and sky were clear outside my window and I could even see the big dipper, but there was a major storm in the distance. Very cool.

After gathering my bags and finding my dad's car which he left for me, I headed for home. About 5 minutes away from house, I see the red lights behind. Yup. Got pulled over. Apparently I'd driven for the past 25 miles without my lights on! Oops! The officer took pity on me though and sent me off with a warning.

When I finally made it home, Colby and Arrow were besides themselves in their delight to see me. They gave me a warm welcome and snuggled up to me, licked me profusely and generally wiggled and wagged. A nice welcome home after a long and stressful day.

Lymington and beyond...

The last few days...

Sept 6th:
Driving through countryside with Carol on our way from Lostwithiel to Lymington. Passing fields and part of Bodmin Moore. Saw some Druid ruins/temple on a hill and this amazing little pond with a mini cliff overlooking it. Love seeing the sheep with their fluffy sweaters and black socks. All the sheep here seem to be the black legged ones. Lots of cows grazing. It’s pouring rain, seems appropriate for the final day here.

Bit of a change of plans. Wanted to try to do Fowey or Eden project today but with the horrible rain, decided not to. Carol Douglass invited us to ride home with her and spend the night in her house and she will take us to the airport in the morning. Such a generous offer and we took her up on it. Met for a coffee at the Duchy Coffee Shop and I FINALLY got my scones with clotted cream and strawberry jam! I’m happy. Holly also gave me a tiny silver spoon, which was really so sweet. She also got one for Lisa and Robert. Mine says “GRM” on it, which made her think of the Graham/Meharg last name thing. The story behind the giving of spoons is that Holly has a tiny demitasse spoon that she likes to use to eat ice cream (because you feel like you can eat more when you use a little spoon!). But then her kids started to want to use the little spoon, and it became the coveted spoon for ice cream eatage. Now she picks them up as a souvenir of the places she's been. When she told Lisa and Robert about the mini spoons, they loved the story too. I think it makes for a really nice souvenir of our time here. I can’t wait to eat ice cream with mine!

Breakfast of Champions.

We stopped on the way to Lymington at a grocery store, and I was tickled to see Tropicana OJ advertised as "Smooth"' or "With Juicy Bits"! I guess "pulp" has a negative connotation in the UK, so it's Bits instead! We had dinner in Lymington and I had the most delicious venison burger with melted brie and a Guiness. Mmm! Then Carol took us on a super fast tour of Lymington. I really wish we'd had more time! So many places to explore. It was dark by the time we had our car tour, but still could tell it was a neat town.

Juicy Bits.

Carol's house was so cool! Lots of exposed beam and stone, with stone floors, cool old doors with lifty latches that actually were a little complicated for my tired brain to maneuver but I figured it out. Definitely some history there.

Sept 7
Carol was so sweet and bought me clotted cream and made fresh scones this morning! So I got my final meal in the UK and it was the best meal I could imagine. On our way to the airport, Carol gave us a bit of a tour. She lives in the New Forest, which, despite it's name, holds very few trees! The New Forest was originally woodland, but parts were cleared for cultivation during the Bronze Age. New trees weren't planted, so now the area is covered in heather and scrub brush. There are trees naturally, but not as many as New Forest would make you think. The thing that was super cool about the area is that is is now all unenclosed pasture land. Cows, horses, little ponies, pigs and other farm animals wander freely through the area, and are kept in by grills set into the roads that border busy intersections. It was pretty wild to drive through and just see cows grazing right next to you and horses saunter in front of you. We drove through the village of Beaulieu, and I kid you not, there were horses just walking in the street. The cars and trucks gave them the right of way, and every thing was copacetic. The vehicles respected the animals, the animals took their time, and I scrambled to take photos! What a cool thing to see.

Note the horse to the right. There is also a horse to the right of the van/truck but he's behind the thing on the windshield.


Purveyors of clotted cream!


Horse. Car.

The next phase of the trip starts at London Heathrow. And believe me, I lost that magic feeling right quick... but that's a story for another post!

The end is nigh. Sigh.

Two more incredible days have just gone by. It’s hard to believe I’ve been here a week! On the one hand, it seems like I’ve been here longer, but “a week” doesn’t sound long at all, and I’ve only got another 2 days left before we fly back. I don’t want to leave, but my body can't afford me staying (I need to sleep and stop eating heavy food!)

The past two nights we’ve gone out with Julia so that Lisa and Robert could spend time together. As it happened we ate at the same restaurant both nights, and the food was excellent. Local and home made, can’t beat it. Tonight I had a chicken and bacon pie with mashed potatoes and local veg, and last night was fish and chips with minted peas! Really good. This evening Carol Douglass also joined us, and the conversation, once again was stimulating, exciting, charged and full of idea sharing. I keep thinking we’ll have an “early night” but the conversation just keeps on rolling and I wouldn't want to miss any of it.

Last evening after dinner, we went back to Treesmill and did some experimenting with glass clay. I’d mixed it up earlier in the week and it was stored in the fridge. Interesting consistency, a bit like sugar cookie dough. Julia and I were content to let Holly be the ringleader, or perhaps the mad scientists and we were conducting the experiments! A fun evening at any rate, but not in bed till midnight.

Today was the first day of negative space caning. I was SO tired today and really dragging. I tend to work so small and thin, so I’m not sure about the integrity of my piece, but I’m enjoying learning this new process, and I think it has a lot of possibilities once I’m back in my own studio. Still do wish that studio was in Lostwithiel though, just need to find a job for myself and my fiance and find some way to work around the 6 month quarantine for the dogs!

It was great to meet yet another like minded creative soul and I had some really good laughs with Carol. She is such a sweet person and SO creative! I kept oohing and ahhing over her incredible carving.

I wrote this last night and was actually in bed before midnight! Today is the last day of classes. SOB! We'll do dinner tonight with Lisa, Julia and Carol. Will let post about that either tomorrow or when I get back.

Stirring up old memories

I’m starting to miss Lostwithiel already and I’m still here! I'm feeling a bit sad because Robert is leaving tomorrow, and it’s been amazing to meet and share ideas with him. It's also been such fun to spend time with he and Lisa! But I’m also sad for he and Lisa because it will be some time before they are able to see each other again. They are living out some Shakespearean tragedy, which while being very romantic, is in reality a big suck.

Main St., Lostwithiel

Lisa lent me a copy of the book “The House on the Strand” by Daphne duMaurier. Treesmill, Par, and Lostwithiel feature heavily in it. As I've been reading it, I have been remembering a past-life regression I did in college with Fred Fengler, author of “Manifesting your Hearts Desire”. I can't actually remember what the class was, though I think it had to do with his book. I’m a big believe in manifesting, as it got me to where I am today in a lot of ways. I credit it for my fiance, my house, my work, my trip here... I recall from the PLR that we were to imagine finding a door in a clearing in the forest. When I went into my door, I went into an old stone building where an elderly man and woman sat by a large stone fireplace. The woman was doing some type of piece work, and the man was smoking a pipe in front of the fire. The low-ceiling-ed room was sparse and dark, the furniture basic and rustic. I remember being able to picture all of this clear as day, more vivid than a dream. As I looked at who must have been my forebears, Fred's disembodied voice told us that we would now leave the door in the clearing and enter into our life’s most important work, and next thing I knew I was in a barn with a pair of heavy shears, the likes of which I’ve never seen. They were some sort of scissor used for cutting the wool off of sheep, and that was clearly my job, as the barn contained sheep and I knew my job was to shear them. I'm not sure what it is about Cornwall that brought that memory back, but it does almost feel like I've been here before. And I don't mean when I was a child and we traveled to England. I mean some deep memory that I can't fully recall but get glimmers of here and there. I know I'm repeating myself again, but there really is a inexplicable magic here.
Treesmill.

Yesterday I started to tally the results of the previous evening’s jurrying of the calendar photos. The competition was stiff and it was not easy to narrow down the finalists. Part of me wishes I’d entered a piece, but another part of me is glad I did not have to subject myself to hearing any kind of critique whatsoever of my work! I need to get over that, I know, but I’m not ready for it just yet. Julia assures me that putting your work through the Masters Registry will take away any fear of critique, because you get SO much that you can't take it all personally! Granted, the calendar jurrying was more silent: having critique on paper in front of you, undeniable... that's what I dread, though I know it would be invaluable to the advancement of my work.

We ate at the Bodmin Gaol again tonight. I just had spicy parsnip soup and sauteed mushrooms, thinking I’d save room for clotted cream and strawberries. But there was a huge platter of chips served, and between that and the 4 slices of bread, I was too full for the splendid wonder that is clotted cream. Hopefully we'll be able to do a cream tea on our last day here. Ahh, it's fast aproaching! Siiiiiiiiiiiiiigh.

Mmm, spicy parsnip served with a smile!


and finished with a smile too!

After dinner, a brave crew of 5 did a self-guided tour of the gaol. It was creepy albeit a little cheesy. Had we gone during the day, it would not have given the chills, but at 10 pm after a cask pulled ale and a glass of wine, the imagination was a little loose. It only added to the spooky atmosphere that we had a prankster with us who delighted in popping out of doorways to scare us! Certain rooms in the prison gave you that feeling that you weren't alone. It was great!

Today I'm trying to get my piece past it's ugly phase. I'm already thinking of other photographs that I'd like to turn into repousse pieces. This isn't an easy technique by any means, but it has such potential, so I intend to keep practising.

This one's for Robert

In high school I wanted a ferret. Desperately. I used to visit the pet shop at least once a week in my too-cool for school black leather jacket (an old Harley Davidson that I got for 5 dollars in a trash bag sale). This particular shop let you take the ferrets right out of the cage and handle them. I liked that the cuffs of my jacket picked up their musty smell and I always left the store in my Canadian Army combat boots, shaking pine shavings out of my sleeves and knowing that my entire vibe of casual teenage indifference could only truly be completed with a ferret.

I never did get that ferret, but in college, my then-boyfriend told me he wanted to buy me a rat , cause “they’re kinda like ferrets”. So we went to a store and I chose a female (I think for fairly obviously reasons). It wasn't a puppy, but it was a start.

She cost 6 dollars.

In addition to developing a fondness for her over time, I also developed pretty severe allergies. I couldn't even come near her cage without my throat closing and any inch of skin that came in contact breaking out in a rash. So I gave her to my roommate, a known feeder. It shouldn't have come as a surprise that the rat was overfed to the extreme and developed fatty tumors that ruptured as she waddled around her cage. And even after she developed those tumors, my roommate, feeling sorry for her, fed her more treats. "Oh the poor thing, she's bleeding! Here you go girl, get your treat!". It was a miserable existence for this poor creature and I made the decision to have her euthanized.

It cost sixty dollars.

I had to pay for it. I was in college and broke. My roommate went with me to the vet "for moral support" but was strangely absent when the bill came.

In time, this same roommate got me a full grown cat. I'd never in my life owned a cat or expressed any interest whatsoever in owning one. Though I have to admit the cat was sweet, she did have one rather significant character flaw that I found hard to ignore: She had the unfortunate tendency toward expelling her anal glands. This occurred when she was startled..or when content...or when sleeping...or when I was sleeping...in my ear. When she expelled across my roommate's wall, it was funny (though I had to clean it). When she expelled on a friends lap as he was petting her and she was contentedly purring, it was less funny (and who do you suppose was responsible for the cleaning?) When she expelled in my ear (right IN my ear!!) while I was fast asleep it was not remotely funny. It was 3 in the morning and required two vigorous showers.

SO!

The moral of the story is (and this is a choose your own ending):
a)A rat is not a good gift
b)A cat is not a good gift
c)Never look a gift rat in the mouth (especially if you have allergies)
d)No rest for the wicked (especially when a cat expels in your ear)
e)My parents should have bought me the damn ferret.

The other way I like to tell this story is as follows:
I had a rat once. She cost $6. My roommate overfed her and she got so fat I had to have her put down. It cost 60 bucks.

Which version do you prefer?

Repousse and cheese and pickle sandwiches...

Today was the first day of second session of Repousse, and it's another talented and creative group. It's also quite a large group! So as to not be in the way, I busied myself photocopying images for the molds, mixing some glass clay for future play, and writing blog posts.

This evening, Holly and I went over to Lisa and Robert’s home again and met up with Julia Rai there. It was a night for pizza, wine and beer and to jury the photos for Holly’s 2011 calendar. (And I want you to know the process was taken quite seriously despite the convivial tone of the evening). It was quite elucidating for me. What an education! I have a much better understanding of how a piece is jurried into a publication and what I really need to pay attention to and focus on. This entire trip is making me itch to get back to my tools and supplies and to really up the ante with what I'm making. Now I just need to find someone to do the work expected of me at the shop!

As a final note, big thumbs up for cheese and pickle sandwiches Not pickles like we know, but pickled stuff. And not kimchee, pickled carrots, rutabaga, onion, cauliflower, marrows (?), gherkins, chopped dates, aples and tomato as well as spices. Crazy and delicious. I think my enjoyment of these sandwiches is enhanced by the packaging. You can pick up these nifty little triangular containers with a whole sandwich in it, cut in half. I don't know why I am enamored with these "packets" but I am. Hooray for England! Three cheers for sandwiches!

A Castle and a Gaol

Another truly amazing day. It was a day off from “work” today (I use that word very lightly as I’m having an excellent time “working”). I got up around 8 and went for a run along the tidal river. It was really lovely (and by the way, I’m fully adopting some British terminology, like “lovely”.)At any rate, my run was lovely and my turn around point occurred in a dewy moor, with sunlight refracting off the steam rising from the wet grass. There was a little copse of trees and shrubs and the path continued inside and through it. I had to avoid some of the more reaching branches, but it was again, magic to run through an area like that.

After another delicious breakfast of local eggs, the most delicious sausage I’ve ever tasted, (also local) bacon, my first taste of Cornish clotted cream this trip (I’ve been craving clotted cream since the first time I had it 1o plus years ago) and this wasn’t even clotted cream done right. I just had it on bread with a bit of strawberry preserve. But it really needs to be on a scone with a cup of tea. Then Holly and I did a walk around Lostwitheal and got some souvenirs. I’m quite pleased with the cobalt blue medicine vial I picked up, and after a trip to the local museum, I discovered that cobalt blue bottles with ridging at one time indicated poisonous contents. Kind of a neat fact. I’m looking forward to adding it to my collection of cobalt glass in my studio window.

We met Lisa and Robert at lunchtime and went up to the local castle Restormel (don’t you love it? “The Local Castle”) where we had a lunch of pasties (no, we did not nibble on the naughty bits of strippers)...Pasties are a local delicacy. The are something like a hand-held pot pie. Traditionally, tin miners ate these as a hearty lunch. It’s a pastry pocket which was originally built with potato, then steak and veggies, followed by sweet fruits, and was eaten potato side first. Ours was a mixture of steak, potato, onion, carrots and savory seasoning with the sweet part left out. Where the two halves of this half-moon yummy filled pastry come together, they are pinched into a crusty handle. One end of the crust is thicker, and back when miners took these as their lunch, they held the thicker end because their hands were dirty and greasy. This little dirty bit was thrown to the "knockers" (again, not a reference to strippers...I asked for an explanation of the word, and Lisa said that before a mine collapsed, the miners would hear a terrible knocking sound through the walls as the earth started to give way. The miners called the evil spirits that could cause a disaster in the mine “knockers”.) They tossed them the crusts to appease them. Our Pasties were followed by “fridge cake” which is a cross between fudge and a no-bake cookie/cake. Delicious.

Pasty Smiles!

As I walked through the castle and touch the walls, I was again astounded by the age and history in England (and Europe in general). I touched the same walls that have been touched by human hands for more years than I can imagine and have witnessed so much life and death and are still standing, albeit crumbling in parts. There is such magic to these places it's hard not to have your imagination run wild with ideas and inspiration .

After lunch and our castle tour we popped in a few more shops. I found a little lead sheep which I had to have due to the family's checkered past as sheep stealers. I also found the coolest little compass. It really is a magnificent little find, and not only do I love it for it’s tiny complexity, but because it is the perfect souvenir and reminder of my time here. It makes me think of Robert because he has a thing for compasses, and it makes me think of Lisa because she has a thing for Robert (and vice versa) and it makes me think of Holly and this amazing trip, which would not have occurred if I hadn't met her. This compass jumped out at me in this shop,and it's pointing my life in a new direction.

We had dinner at the Bodmin Jail/Gaol. Walking into the courtyard and looking up at the broken window panes in the unrefurbished pportion of the jail gave me the feeling someone (or something ) was looking back. The execution gallows were still intact and looking at that sends a chill down the spine. On the wall adjacent to the execution area was a list that told of the prisoners executed and the crimes committed. There were more than one sheep stealer listed. Had the Graham clan hailed from Cornwall, I might have seen an ancestors name on that list. Bodmin jail is also the jail that the early settlers of Australia hailed from. How incredible is that?

I had baked cod for supper, with some chips (not to be confused with crisps) and sautéed mushrooms and a salad. For desert we had a syrup pudding (pudding is the word for dessert here, so syrup pudding was a cakey-type lovely with a custardy cream sauce) and meringue with clotted cream, raspberries and blueberries. Mmmm! Really dang good. Again, the conversation was delightful and insightful, full of contrary opinions, revelations laughter and every bit of it so interesting. I’ve never had such exciting and thought provoking conversation as I have with this group of people. I’m having such a time here. Really really really I am so thankful.