I've been teaching all day with nothing much to report. We had a little rain in the night and part of my journey to work was through the clouds that were perched on the top of the hill. The local farmers are busy flinging muck on the fields so the roads are once again covered with mud and worse. The air itself is full of the fragrrance of slurry. As a friend of Romas once remarked, "You know you're a real Devonian when the smell of cow's muck reminds you of home," or words to that effect. Yesterday I had a small bonfire, remembering to take my camera with me. A bonfire is a great subject, constantly changing and producing weird and wonderful compositions.
It's St Patrick's Day today. Although geographically we are not so far from Ireland it is a day that passes unremarked in this south west corner of the country. In fact I don't think that I have ever heard an Irish accent in all the 15 years that we have lived in North Devon. Up to the age of 10 I was at a school run by Irish nuns and I can remember celebrating St Patrick's Day with a cake & orange juice, singing Paddy McGinty's Goat & If you're Irish as well as playing the beetle game where you roll a dice to draw the different parts of a beetle. What simple pleasures we had 45 years ago.
A snippet of good news on the tv tonight. Road deaths and injuries in Devon and Cornwall have decreased by 40% in the last 4 years. Mind you, 60 people killed on the roads last year is still 60 too many.
Strange occurrence on tonight's news. At Buddleigh Salterton on the South Devon coast, thousands of starfish have been washed up for 1 mile along the beach. Apparently they are in a weakened state after spawning which can result in their being washed to shore.
Funny remark of the day. One small 4 year old child asked me, "Did you use to be Mrs Moran?". Mrs Moran is their class teacher and a good foot shorter than me. Perhaps I/she stretched in the night.
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