Muck for Luck ?

Hello,  one day last week, on a whim after work, and because the sun was briefly making an appearance, we dashed home, quick change, and headed to St.Ives. The tide was slowly on its way in and the special light was all around; Clive busied himself photographing the scenes.

Crowds were gathered above a small cove where earlier in the day someone had left evidence of having had a lazy afternoon. Small pebbles balanced on larger ones; balanced on stones; balanced on rocks; balanced on boulders - quite a sight. I hope you can get the idea from the photo below taken in the evening sun, here the rocks could be mistaken for a family of meerkats! We thought that they must be held together by superglue, but apparently not - only by sheer determination and patience.

Strolling around visitor-watching I was so glad to see families at last able to enjoy sandy beaches, quaint cafes, modern bars and traditional pubs. I watched people buying gifts from wonderful galleries, treats and souvenirs from the great mix of shops. A good day for the local businesses.

People wandered slowly in their shorts and flip-flops, T-shirts and sunglasses; the uniform of Cornwall ... Many, including us, were trying to decide where to have their evening meal, the choice is huge and varied; but many had opted for the old favourite of a pasty in a bag!

As usual we breathed in the fresh clean air and reminded ourselves how lucky we were to be able to have all this on our doorstep. Clive carried on clicking and I carried on thinking, wondering how I could capture and express the good feelings of joy and happiness the Sun and St.Ives had given to us on a Tuesday night in July, when I wasn't on holiday!

We decided to eat at a cafe on the beach where we had enjoyed a lovely meal once before. We opted to sit on the covered decking area but as most tables were booked we had to sit in a corner, half under cover and half not. We didn't mind, it was a warm evening and we had a bird's eye view of the beach below us and the sea flowing in. I sipped wine while watching people pack there beach bags and walk reluctantly away, dragging their bare feet one last time through the luscious soft sand.

We gave our order and waited for the food. I was probably fantasing about winning the lottery, hypnotised by the view, dreaming of buying a house on top of the cliffs - and then it happened. Splosh!!!! No such word I know, but that's what it sounded like, and felt like as it hit the back of my new jacket, my left ear, and my cutlery simultaneously.

I did not swear. I don't swear. But boy could I feel a glut of colourful language struggling to get out. I remained calm. I was in a public place. It happened so quick, none of the other diners seemed to notice my silent hysterics as I peeled off my jacket. It had to be a seagull, they are so accomplished at poohing and flying at the same time, like fighter jets firing their missiles without slowing down. I know. It has happened to me before. And you've guessed it, in St.Ives!



Clive gallantly tried to wipe off the surface waste with copious amounts of serviettes (they were paper, not damask napkins), while I cleaned my ear. The waitress arrived with our food. We explained what had happened, she was totally cool, picked up the soiled cutlery with the mound of serviettes, as if it was an everyday occurrence. It probably was. But as I my Mother would have said - "don't be soft, tha knows what they say - muck for luck" - she was very superstitious.

I suppose on reflection, after a week has gone by, I'm still alive, my jacket washed like new, we still live near St.Ives, and the seafood pie was delicious!

Until next time,
PPx