That Special Time of Year

I love this time of year.

I love the brisk mornings, the sharp sting of the wind and the fresh rain on my face.  And I love returning home, all rosy-cheeked from the chill, where I can sit with a comforting bowl of chowder, wrapped in my favorite cardigan, watching the world outside turn ever greyer and colder.  Yes, the waning days of autumn really do…hey, wait a minute!  This is MAY fer chrissake!  Can someone please explain to me what the fuck is going on?
 

Okay, it's not really this bad, but still...

Yeah, the weather still sucks.  Some days ago, during a moment of misplaced optimism, my wife and I decided to turn the heat off.  The theory was that, with summer just around the corner, it was bound to warm up soon.  However, after a week of huddling on the sofa, drinking hot tea and wearing more layers than a big, fat, Gypsy wedding cake, we caved in and turned the heat back on.  I say again, this is MAY fer chrissake!

In other news, we managed to sneak off for a week’s holiday to Cornwall.  We stayed in a rural area (meaning no Internet connections or phone reception) in a charming cottage that used to be a chapel.  Accordingly, the living room had a massive, vaulted ceiling and there was a pulpit in the kitchen.  There were also arched, churchy-looking windows with stained glass around the edges for effect and clear glass in the middle so we could watch the rain.  From the pulpit landing, a short stairway led to the bedroom and the back hallway with a Dutch door opening onto the deck, which was also a good place to watch the rain from (the doorway, not the deck).
 

The pulpit in the kitchen, and my wife's handbag on the counter.

Being British, however, we ignored the weather and set about grimly enjoying our holiday.  In truth, considering the cards we were dealt, we came off quite lucky in the climate department.  We chose the one day it did not rain to visit the castle at Tintagel with its breathtaking views, and spent the less temperate days touring the insides of stately manors, accompanied by clusters of parents with children, also on holiday, desperate to find something to do to occupy their children and heroically attempting to make 16^th century minutia interesting to a 7-year old.
 

View from Tintagel

Nice place, but they didn't keep the property up very well.

We also took a swing through Boscastle, a village so twee it was already a tourist destination before it was famously washed away in a flood a few years back, and then famously rebuilt back to just the way it was, making it even more of a tourist destination.  (I mean, that’s the only reason I went.)
 

Boscastle, a lovely little village...
   

...but really, this is the only reason I went.

And in between rain squalls, we did manage to do a bit of the Coastal Path, sample the delights of some local towns and engage in a few, worthy outdoor entertainments, but in the evenings, we mostly sat in the cottage, drank hot tea and watched it rain.

I say again, this is MAY fer chrissake!
 

Our visit to Tavistock; it's not raining, but as you can see, everyone has opted to stay indoors to keep warm.
   

Lydford Gorge, one of the unexpected jewels we stumbled upon.
   

This, however, was mostly what we saw: mud and rain.

Post Script:  As I post this, it is sunny and 40 degrees outside (at 6 AM).  Sod's Law in action, though at least this time it is working in my favor.