There have been times over the past few months when I wondered if I’d ever see my home again. Being diagnosed with prostate and bone cancer was no fun and the treatment, a process of chemical neutering has been little better, however I am at last at a stage when I can begin to wend my way north from Cornwall back up to New Tolsta. During those dark winter months I tried to keep walking, but it wasn’t always possible. There were good days and bad, but I kept telling myself you only have today so make the most of it. I walked alone with only my sketch pad for company. Many a time I thought of those evening walks from my island home, and during full moons I’ve imagined myself walking with Donald and Laddie around to Garry Beach. Most of my walks in Cornwall have been in daylight, since any road walking at dusk or in the dark would be seriously dangerous in the lanes around Probus. When out in the surrounding countryside I’ve maintained that Scottish right to roam, climbing over gates and fences to find my own path and avoid the masses of dog walkers. I’ve noticed in the village people often introduce their dog before offering their own name. A few times I driven down to the coast on fine days and rediscovered the beauty of the Cornwall of my youth. Winter is the only time to do this, as summer bring tourists and impossible traffic. The frustration of knowing the sea is only a few miles away but that the route is barred must be awful, better to be in walking distance.
The stitching that has become such an integral part of my life has continued and another flock of sheep on tweed have been worked and ready for framing. There have also been a couple of longer term projects with a jolly hunting scene and a stumpwork ticking sampler entitled “The tulip fancier”.
Stitching is not always the tidiest of occupations, and while staying with my brother it has been important for me to organise a working space in the barn that once housed my father’s collection of blue and white china. The conversion of the barn into a studio/workshop space for me grew into something quite different when I had to house the remainder of my furniture from Brittany. I have simply banished thoughts of my old Breton farm house as it now remains abandoned and unsaleable. Much of what I brought back has been sold or is in the process of being sold, but those smaller items that still give me pleasure form an important part of my practical work space. I like the comfort of clutter around me, and ancient items that still do the job they were intended for give me tremendous pleasure. Working with the builder Andy has given a focus to my days, and now that the work is complete I’m seeing those old familiar item take on a new lease of life as they are placed in new surroundings.
The space has been totally transformed and although not large I will enjoy spending time here next winter if my health allows. For now though my mind is focused on the journey home, no mad dash this time but a calm progression northwards visiting friends on route. I fully expect it to be an emotional return.
