POST 2/2026 CARBIS BAY, CORNWALL UK–Cold temperatures bookend home in the US to “home from home” in the UK. We’ve traded snow and wind for rain and wind, all nature’s elements to be reckoned with, this year in their overabundance. Elements aside, it’s good to be here.

Arriving in London.

The Paddington Bear family also resides at Fables Books in Goshen, Indiana.

In Sunday’s worship service, retired vicar Gorran Chapman highlighted the phrase in the hymns, prayers, scripture readings and sermon that spoke to, “It’s good to be here.” Stanza 5 of the Gradual Hymn reads, “‘Tis good, Lord, to be here, / Yet we may not remain; / But since thou bidst us leave the mount, / Come with us to the plain.”

It was Pentecost Sunday. The scriptures included the Transfiguration of Christ on the mountain-top. (Matthew and also Moses going up into the mountain of God to receive the tablets of stone.)

Daffodil fields we walked past on our way home from Sunday roast at The Badger Inn in Lelant. Glad for our raingear.

A bit of my recent reading saga

Some weeks ago I found the book, The Living Mountain, written in 1977, republished in 2025. It’s by the late Nan Shepherd (1893-1981).  I love the book. Shepherd spent great time in the Cairngorms of Scotland. She brings nature to life. Driven by curiosity Nan shares what she discovered in the living landscape and in herself. Her prose makes the spirit soar.

I found the book at Barnes & Nobles in Westfield, IN, when we visited Marty’s sister, Mary. I used a certificate that I was gifted for my birthday. I’ve read it once but will dip into it again. I found it by browsing the shelves. Thanks, again, to the gift givers and to the gift of what Shepherd shares. 

My other recent readings include Christmas gift books from the 1950s. Grandfather Christian gave books to each of the grandchildren, plus a dollar. Right now, I’ve read Through Forest and Stream, Adventure In the Mountain, by Duane Yarnell (The World Publishing Company, Cleveland and New York, 1949). I’m learned something about my 10-year-old self as I moved through yellowed pages. The same is true for my 12-year-old self-revealed in the book, The Man in Bearskin, by J. Keuning (Wm B. Erdmans Grand Rapids, 1954).

The latter story has to do with a group of emigres in 1847 from The Netherlands who founded Holland, Michigan. Both books, as I faintly recall, gave me a sense of mystery, adventure and history.

My sense of adventure, mystery and history, of course, has taken on new shades and avenues but I’m seeing some of the foundations that formed my thought and being. Three cheers for books old and new! And the spirit of Grandfather Chris whose accompanies me. (My siblings and I pooled our dollars to buy a box camera, a first in our family).

One more book that stirred my imagination: The Snake River: A River of the West Novel, by Win Blevins. The book brings the life of mountain men to life. It holds a fascination all its own. There were places where I was about to stop or skip reading. Trappers, gamblers, missionaries, teachers are moving west, wandering about, looking to start fresh, finally holding out the promise of home. I’m glad to have stayed with the semi-historical plot. Poetic justice reigns in the end.

Now, we’re home from home in Cornwall. Next stop, the two-mile walk to the public library in St Ives. It just opened the same day after a big refurbishment. Very nice. Checked out The Cat Who Had 60 Whiskers, by Lilian Jackson Braun. Large Print. This doesn’t make sense out of context, but my go-to page 69 opens with, “When Danny had left on his important mission [to pay the the lunch bill], Hannah said in a low voice, ‘Louie says the Jameses include teachers and preachers, horse breeders, and train robbers.’” I’m looking forward to dipping in from the start. After lunch at The Lifeboat Inn, we did a bit of shopping, a book in a new series by local writer Deborah Fowler. Also stopped in at a book sale at the Salvation Army. Bought Toast & Marmalade, by Emma Bridgewater. Subtitle is Stories From the Kitchen Dresser, A Memoir. Fine Title. Faint musty smell. Family business. Recipes, too. Memoir. Pushing out the bookends. Some weeks ago I found the book, The Living Mountain, written in 1977, republished in 2025. It’s by the late Nan Shepherd (1893-1981).  I love the book. Shepherd spent great time in the Cairngorms of Scotland. She brings nature to life. Driven by curiosity Nan shares what she discovered in the living landscape and in herself. Her prose makes the spirit soar.

I found the book at Barnes & Nobles in Westfield, IN, when we visited Marty’s sister, Mary. I used a certificate that I was gifted for my birthday. I’ve read it once but will dip into it again. I found it by browsing the shelves. Thanks, again, to the gift givers and to the gift of what Shepherd shares. 

My other recent readings include Christmas gift books from the 1950s. Grandfather Christian gave books to each of the grandchildren, plus a dollar. Right now, I’ve read Through Forest and Stream, Adventure In the Mountain, by Duane Yarnell (The World Publishing Company, Cleveland and New York, 1949). I’m learned something about my 10-year-old self as I moved through yellowed pages. The same is true for my 12-year-old self-revealed in the book, The Man in Bearskin, by J. Keuning (Wm B. Erdmans Grand Rapids, 1954).

The latter story has to do with a group of emigres in 1847 from The Netherlands who founded Holland, Michigan. Both books, as I faintly recall, gave me a sense of mystery, adventure and history.

My sense of adventure, mystery and history, of course, has taken on new shades and avenues but I’m seeing some of the foundations that formed my thought and being. Three cheers for books old and new! And the spirit of Grandfather Chris whose accompanies me. (My siblings and I pooled our dollars to buy a box camera, a first in our family).

One more book that stirred my imagination: The Snake River: A River of the West Novel, by Win Blevins. The book brings the life of mountain men to life. It holds a fascination all its own. There were places where I was about to stop or skip reading. Trappers, gamblers, missionaries, teachers are moving west, wandering about, looking to start fresh, finally holding out the promise of home. I’m glad to have stayed with the semi-historical plot. Poetic justice reigns in the end.

Adding to the bookshelf

St Ives harbour.

Winter robin, had been singing but paused as we stood and stared.

On Monday we walked to and around St Ives–six miles for the day. The library had just opened after a months-long refurbishment. Very nice. Checked out The Cat Who Had 60 Whiskers, by Lilian Jackson Braun. Large Print. This doesn’t make sense out of context, but my go-to page 69 opens with, “When Danny had left on his important mission [to pay the the lunch bill], Hannah said in a low voice, ‘Louie says the Jameses include teachers and preachers, horse breeders, and train robbers.’” I’m looking forward to dipping in. After lunch at The Lifeboat Inn, we did a bit of shopping (a book in a new series by local writer Deborah Fowler), and stopped at a book sale at the Salvation Army. Bought Toast & Marmalade, by Emma Bridgewater. Subtitle is Stories From the Kitchen Dresser, A Memoir. Fine Title. Faint musty smell. Family business. Recipes. Memoir. Happily pushing out the bookends.

Home from home

Marty spent some of a rainy Tuesday afternoon cooking up a big batch of cabbage soup. Compact kitchen. Nicely outfitted flat. Home for the present.

Rainbow over the Atlantic.

I’m glad to be here. We’re glad to be hear. Seafood by the seaside. A feast of friends. Right now watching the Olympics. We’re happily pushing out the bookends.

–John