BAD LANGUAGE AND HOW TO USE IT

I am packing suitcases so that Libby, the boys and I can take our reluctant leave of Cornwall. I am being observed by a visiting Australian brother-in-law who for no particular reason, starts to sing absently. ‘I’m not a pheasant plucker, I’m a pheasant plucker’s mate, I'm only plucking pheasants…’ ‘Cos the pleasant fucker's...’ ‘LATE!’ He … Continue reading BAD LANGUAGE AND HOW TO USE IT

WHERE THE SUN SHINES AND THE RAIN FALLS

If Cornwall didn’t exist then someone would have to invent it. God maybe. It is a place of ineffable beauty, a land of savage seascape, cleaving rivers, cumulus forest, rolling hills, buried churches and horizontal weather. It has some of the most glorious empty beaches you will ever see, assuming a local tells you how … Continue reading WHERE THE SUN SHINES AND THE RAIN FALLS