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Gwithian 2012

GwithianThree
Gwithian Beach Cornwall Christmas 2012, a photo by Jules Richards on Flickr.

Having lived in West Cornwall until I was twenty something years old, Gwithian/Godreavy Beach in Cornwall is a place I spent many hours as a boy and young person.

Those who know it will probably also consider it a special place.

Carbis (St.Ives) Bay is a unique formation and the stroll along the East edge of the bay from Godreavy around to Hayle is quite an experience.

It’s become a Christmas – New Year tradition to take the stroll if we’re in Kernow seeing the folks etc.

The best time to experience it is without emmets… therefore Autumn through Winter and Spring. It is every-changing, and the extremes from sunbaked bluest of blue days through to the wildest of salty howls can be ‘awesome’ (in traditional sense, not in the youf speak sense).

If you go to West (proper) Cornwall on Holiday, be sure to seek it out.

MAP

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2012 in review

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2012 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

600 people reached the top of Mt. Everest in 2012. This blog got about 3,900 views in 2012. If every person who reached the top of Mt. Everest viewed this blog, it would have taken 7 years to get that many views.

Click here to see the complete report.

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I recently heard someone, a scientist, refer to what they saw as ‘awe-inspiring’.

To inspire awe? It’s a common notion, even in this age where we know how everything works and are masters of our own kingdoms. Supposedly.

An off the shelf definition: magnificent, amazing, astonishing, awesome, breathtaking, grand, impressive, majestic, mind-blowing, remarkable, stunning, wonderful…

Wikipedia quotes “Awe is an emotion comparable to wonder but less joyous… an overwhelming feeling of reverence, admiration, fear, etc., produced by that which is grand, sublime, extreme…”

It quotes Paul Pearsall “…a sense of connection with a startling universe that is usually far beyond the narrow band of our consciousness.  …the 11th emotion, beyond those now scientifically accepted (i.e., love, fear, sadness, embarrassment, curiosity, pride, enjoyment, despair, guilt, and anger).”

Ah ’emotion’, that old chestnut.

What would the world be like without emotion?

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This year’s Biscuits and Pies! PIES!! ahhhhhhhh Piiiiiies!

BisKwits P{Pies

It’s a tradition… Meat pies and Ginger Biskwits for Crimble!! They don’t stay around for long.

Recipes (from last year) here:    Ginger Biskwits   Mini Meat Pies

Happy Christmas. Pass the Port!

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a simple real ‘down-to-earth’ event

Donkey

It’s almost Christmas and even the sternest of critics is likely to hum at least a bar of something related to Christmas over the coming few weeks.

Many will have heard the Christmas story again (you can find it in Luke 2:1-20).  Surprisingly the written part of this story is relatively short. The details in the Biblical account have been somewhat embellished overtime by high and pop culture retellings.

For me it helps to ‘realise’ the story to know that the flowery bits are there due to colourful imagination and that in essence it was possibly a simple real ‘down-to-earth’ event.

Many take  for granted that Jesus was born in a stable, it’s hard to un-imagine the imagery; however, the Gospel never mentions exactly where the baby was born – just where he was laid afterward. It’s just one of the embellishments built into mythology surrounding the Christmas story that we take for granted.

Did Mary ride a donkey to Bethlehem? Perhaps, but there are various other possibilities. The Bible doesn’t say how she got to Bethlehem. It only says that she came with Joseph.

Did Mary arrive in Bethlehem the night she gave birth? The Bible does not suggest this. They could have arrived weeks earlier. The Bible simply states, “while they were there [in Bethlehem], the days were accomplished that she should be delivered” (Luke 2:6). Arriving in town well before her due date would make more sense.

http://www.biblegateway.com/

Thanks to Huw Spanner for these thoughts:

There were no inns or stables in first-century Bethlehem! The Gospels imply that he was born in a house full of family. Ordinary houses then consisted of a lower ground floor where the family’s animals spent the night and an upper ground floor (ie a stone platform) where the family lived and slept. The manger would simply have been an alcove in the side of the platform. More affluent families would have had a first floor – an upper room (as in the Last Supper) for relatives and other guests to stay in.

Early translators didn’t really know what the Greek word meant, so (IIRC) they guessed it meant “inn”. There is no mention of a stable in any of the Gospels in any translation. But first-century Bethlehem was much too small a town to have an inn, let alone a stable. Besides, the reason Joseph was in Bethlehem in the first place was because he had to go back to his home town for the Roman census. Therefore, he would have had family in Bethlehem, and all his relatives would have come down for the census. No one would have stayed in an inn (even if there had been one) if one of their extended family had a house locally – if for no other reason than that it would have been very insulting to their extended family. Joseph and Mary had been engaged when she became pregnant, and they were certainly married by the time she gave birth.

Thus, the situation the Gospels imply is that Joseph’s family home was full of visiting relatives – the upper room was full – so the baby was put in the manger. The house would have been warm, the manger would have had hay in it and Jesus would have been surrounded by his extended family. A very different picture from the one that Christmas carols and cards, and authors of blessed thoughts and Nativity plays, like to paint.

… in essence it was possibly a simple real ‘down-to-earth’ event.

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Bad boy, dirty boy, in your bed!

Without a full rear mudguard…

muck

With a full rear mud guard…

guard

’nuff said?

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The Bike needed Tender Loving £s

guard You may have noticed my tweet last week that “the bike” needed some TLC (and some TL£).

Alas the wheels (rims and hubs) that came with the  specialized crosstrail sport disc 2011 were ‘average’ quality and arguably not up to the job.

It’s been 2 years since I bought the bike. It’s done its best to combat the conditions experienced but the rear wheel – the one that takes the most pounding – gave up last week. The front forks are sprung so that takes a bit of impact out for the front wheel.

The rear wheel’s rim was cracked in 3 places where the spokes enter it and the freehub’s splines were considerably worn – an ex-wheel!
This week’s tally: an ex wheel, the car’s rear ex-tyre and an ex-washingmachine! Arggh!  All this week!

In Oct 2011 my initial foray to the suggested “cycle-route” was shocking!
In August 2012, I moved off the death ride route (normal roads) to the shared “cycle facilities”.
The bike now has to deal with a lot more grit, debris, crap, tree roots, curbs, potholes, etc. I’m learning to accept it. I now concede the new route is arguably the wiser option.
The winter obviously sees a lot more debris and wet crud. So although I survived last winter I’ve now opted for the full guard on the rear, I just had a splash guard before. This might protect the mech and chain set a tad. More dedication to cleaning is needed too! Hufff!

I am no bike expert, so I rely on people’s advice and the LBS – City Cycles Thurmo
After two years it’s now got:
A new back wheel: Mavic A119 rim and Shimano FH-M525A hub.
In the summer we had to replace the considerably worn SunTour/SRAM chain set (ring, chain and cassette); with a Shimano megarange CS HG41.

So yes, annually the £ has to be spilt somewhere, but just remember there’s no Tax, MOT and insurance and the previous ~£54 a month fuel costs are now zero.

I bought off the shelf, but on retrospect- if you’re buying a new bike, spend more than you can afford (invest) for a bike that will be used daily – in the long term, the bike is the sum of it’s parts!

#keepcycling

As mentioned, I concede that the cycle facility route is the wiser option – I guess I’ll report again on that in due course.

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talking to one’s self

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Yes, here I am again, solitarily talking to myself.
Studies show that it’s a mental and physical form of release, justification and excitement.
Yes, I guess I do blog about myself, who else could I speak for?
Question is, where’s it taking me… more and more into an insular world of introspection?
Or is it a release for natural introspection, a purging of the essential contemplation? A contemplation that started when as a growing boy, I first realised that we are essentially alone. A moment, with stars, sky, sea and misplaced(?) instruction…
We all find ourselves somewhere on the introvert extrovert spectrum, some more polemic than others. I don’t think introversion is a crime, but it’s often perceived as such and it can be a weight.
In today’s society/community the extrovert is celebrated, championed and adored. We are expected to take part, join in and display.
A traditional organic community existed as a result of necessary relationships, necessary structures around work, religion and local commerce and trade. Today we find fabricated communities created as novelties and commodities, clubs, groups and lifestyle choices.
I feel there is still a great need for real community but real community does not readily fit with our individualistic, purchasable, ‘click and collect’ world.
My introspective nature generates guilt, when attempting to be part of ‘community’, one fails to entertain, failing to display value, failing to suspend disbelief.
In his book ‘Solitude’, Simon Parke talks about “the feeling that no one really cares what happens… an awareness that we lack close and meaningful contact with others, which produces feelings of being cut off from them.” and that “many people have been taught loneliness. We want our children to live active lives in the world, and so train them for activity. But if this is the only world they are taught to value, a world of external stimulation, they become alienated from themselves”
We teach our children and ourselves to be part of a collective consciousness but when that collective consciousness fails to be worthy, fails to perform, one has no value, we fail, we have no place. Solitude is a reality, loneliness is a symptom of a shallow ideal.
With solitude I can mindfully talk to myself.
With loneliness, talking to anyone, even oneself, can be hard even not possible.
Happy daze?

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Unfocused…

An unfocused time of year…

rudolf

With plenty of expectation of… “we’re not sure what”, thoughts at this time of year can become a tad fraught.

I can’t focus my thought right now, ‘cos I’m thinking loads about something and something about loads and it’s all getting a tad pre-Christmasy and end-of-the-yeary…
Cards to write and send, insurance to sort, nativities to see, guests to please, friends to see, presents to arrange, wife to please, kids to educate, what did i promise?, animals to feed, bike to mend, money to save, try not to forget, try to remember, try to try, next year to put off…

Mindfulness gong! …and relax… !

jbells

I noticed the other day that social media posts about stuff, issues, opinions and the like, get “occasional comment”, but images of silly jingle-bell hats and reindeer costumes get bounteous “licks”.  Curious…

Perhaps instead of banging on about how this is this, and that’s that and OML whatever next, we should all just get festive and unfocus… ?

…or should we re-focus?

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Little red boat…

Autumn At Sea

Little Red Boat            July 1994lrb

I went down to Godreavy,
sun, wind, land and sea.

The waves relentlessly toil, rolling,
the kite struggles with the wind,
the gull hovers in authoritative glide,
the lovers walk not hiding their pride.

The bay sits and looms, like the rocks,
the spray of the waves wets the breeze,
the horizon inheres, definitive, there,
the clouds pass on their way to somewhere.

The elderly couple walk with the wind,
the surfers fight it and laugh.
the sound of the breakers, endlessly boast,
the holiday-makers try making the most..,

…of a scene that I love, and is me,
the screaming sea-gulls agree,
the sun’s gleam makes a silvery coat,
there’s a little red boat just barely afloat,

In the bay being bossed by the sea,
a little old boat just barely afloat,
the screaming sea-gulls agree,
a scene that I love and is me.

Sun, wind, land and sea.