Saturday morning pigeon.
We drive across the length of Dartmoor beyond Princetown and the bleakness of the prison there.....
I'm loving my 'Jazz'.....to Yelverton, north of Plymouth, to the National Trust's
700 year old Buckland Abbey. This is our view of it while we eat our picnic ( mine is mashed up egg and last night's soft cooked veggies - protecting my palate from scrunchy celery) on a shaded bench in sniffing distance of heavenly scented roses.
The walled kitchen garden .....
honey bee hives....
happy hens..
in the apple orchard.....
chard of light...
caged raspberries..
star dahlia...
nasturtium fire...
poppy in the wind..
scoops of sun...
acer shimmer.
Inside the house - self portrait of Reubens......
Sir Frances Drake who stayed at the house with
Lady Drake...
his travels in stained glass...
and a giant Victorian statue of him which was lost - somehow - and found many years later broken into bits and buried in Haldon Woods outside Exeter - put back together and returned to the Abbey.
The day is really too hot and long for Robin, so we eat Magnum ice creams in umbrella shade and drive home a shorter route narrowly missing a horrid accident on the A38. We take a detour around it before the police arrive and close the road. Back home I find I didn't miss Andy Murray's match after all.
Today I take my first gentle class in Trauma Release Exercise and discover I can tremble deep in my stomach and let my legs shake - like wounded animals do - my body remembering some buried fear - I don't need to know more than that - and let it out.....let it go. I'm hoping it'll help with the excess of adrenalin which has taken up residence in my heart and lungs....help me to slow down and relax....... put myself back together....and return me to love.
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