Sculpture of the Month - She Loves Me, She Loves Me Not...

Roger is quite the romantic... he dreams of long walks on the beach, candle lit dinners and rooms filled with fresh flowers, he is quite tender and sweet.

Each day, on his way to work, he stops in at his local coffee shop "Brown Sugar", and orders a macchiato (a double espresso with a splash of milk)  from the lovely Bianca. 

According to Roger, she is the most beautiful woman in the world. 

He has for many years loved her from afar... She is 20 something, studying 18th century Russian poets and likes nothing more, than snuggling up in front of a roaring fire. 

However, our Roger is ever so shy and timid, he just cannot bring himself to ask he out. Instead, he will walk along the coastal path, pick himself some daisy's and say to himself over and over and over again... "She loves, she loves me not!"

We LOVED being beaters!

Dino and I were invited to take part in our first ever shoot! We were the beaters (not the shooters).

Oh the thrill of being a beater (flushing out unsuspecting pheasants into clouds of gunpowder and lead pellets) it is not for all folks, one needs to be light on their feet, fast and stealth like, quite skillful if you ask me (and not mind the odd bird getting shot).
Our fellow flushers, came with their highly trained Springer Spaniels, it was truly a delightful to see them, doing what they do best...  

Our fellow flushers

We have some delightful friends just outside Fowey, who raise pheasants. Happy, plump, and well fed pheasants. They roam freely all year round and come the colder months, the season begins. 

The day started off cold, misty and wet, but we were not frightened by this. We had all the gear, and off we went. There were 4 drives in total, 2 in the morning and 2 in the afternoon. WHAT is a drive? Well, it involves, beating or making some noise in the undergrowth and directing the birds to where the shooters are. We stopped for a gloriously British lunch.... a scrumptiously scolding hot Stilton soup, followed by a venison stew and some warm pudding, all washed down with some local cider and ale. 
When the day was over, and the feathers cleared, Mr Sunshine appeared. We all had a brace of birds each, a brace is made up of 2 birds, normally a male and female, tied together. We loved the whole pageantry of the occasion... the estate, our hosts, the shooters, the clothing, the long lunch and most importantly, our fellow beaters and their tremendously enthusiastic dogs.

We enjoyed another day, steeped in Cornish tradition (if you like killing birds)

Brace yourself

Painting of the Month - They have come to see me bat, not you umpire! W.G.Grace

William Gilbert Grace, also known as W. G. Grace, a man of many talents.
Born in 1848, he was an English first class cricketer, an outstanding all rounder, he excelled at all the essential skills of batting, bowling and fielding, but it is for his batting that he is most renowned.
What a real man, most would say.
He also qualified as a medical practitioner and he was also a champion 44-yard hurdler, a footballer, he loved playing golf, lawn bowls and curling.
What a real man, most would say.
He was an extremely competitive player and, although he was one of the most famous men in England, he was also one of the most controversial on account of his gamesmanship and moneymaking.
What a real man, most would say.
He also loved poetry, collecting and pressing autumn leaves and adored baking frangipane tarts.
What a real man, most would say.
However, don't be fooled, he LOVED being the centre of attention, a bit of a prima donna, a diva...
On once being given out LBW, Grace is rumoured to have said: "Play on. They came to see me bat, not you umpire." 
 What a real man, most would say.