Promises Beyond The Veil Of Light ( PT 38 )
By skinner_jennifer
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Picture by pixabay free images.
Part Thirty Eight
Mina's account of her time in Tintagel.
The Solstice had gone off really well. The three brothers had led the animals into the barn for safety, as we all mucked in with getting things done. The day ended in fireworks that lit up the sky like I'd never seen before. I was in heaven, there was so much food and drink, with jacket potatoes and spicy cake served with cream, washed down with homemade punch served in a bucket.
Camping for three days just between Solstice and Christmas day had been fun too, although extremely cold in December as we pitched the tent on a very high cliff so that I could wake up to the vast ocean I'd so come to love, with its crashing waves that would hit the rocks below then return in a rush rousing me and dad awake each morning.
I adored the smell of fish and chips from newspaper dad purchased each evening from the local chippy, as we sat outside our tent looking out over the ocean, with fingers all covered in salt and vinegar, enjoying every mouthful.
Each afternoon dad took me exploring, whether it be going to the beach and clambering over rock pools. I had so many questions about the different species of creatures we discovered in the pools and was constantly asking dad: “what's this and what's that.” Though dad didn't really have any idea himself, but tried to answer as many questions as best he could. It was the first time I'd seen a crab and couldn't get over the fact it's home was it's shell. “It's a bit like you dad,” I laughed. “It likes to travel around in it's own personal caravan.”
“I suppose you're right butterfly,” dad uttered, “though I don't really go far with the caravan these days, just like to leave it parked up in the forest.”
There were also the beautiful coastal walks that took us for miles. I thought I'd never be able to walk them all even if we lived down in Cornwall. I would keep asking dad, “are we at our destination yet?” and dad would reply, “just over the next hill butterfly.”
Tired and exhausted I would declare, “but you said that when we came over the last hill.” Dad would then reply. “I'm sure there's a village just the other side.” But really he had no idea anymore than I did. When we finally did reach our destination we ate pasties and had hot drinks, which had been worth the wait.
My Dr Martins had become so worn out with all the walking and stepping in rock pools, that the soles were beginning to come away, so dad took me into Launceston to buy another pair as an early Christmas present. We entered a shop that had many colourful boots, some Dr Martins were in red, yellow, green and blue, some had flowers on, but I'd set my mind on plain old black, my favourite colour. Because my old boots were so worn out I decided to wear the new ones straight away.
After hours of walking around town, dad and I had enough, so passing a quaint, busy little cafe called Molly's we decided to go in. There were red and white chequered curtains in the windows, with the same pattern on napkins and cloths covering the tables. It was very much Christmas with a decorated tree in the corner and each table had a decoration of Poinsettia flower in the centre.
I loved the pine dresser next to the counter with many different teas on display. There were delicious cakes under glass, I decided to have a chocolate eclair with my tea, while dad settled for a currant bun with his. I watched as a woman tried to console her struggling, screaming child who was getting redder by the second. “What's wrong with the little girl?” I asked dad.
“I don't know butterfly. Maybe she's teething, or just tired and wants to go home,” replied dad, feeling slightly embarrassed. “I wouldn't stare too much butterfly, the mother's having a hard enough time as it is.” dad declared.
I looked away wishing they had a window table so I could look out, but was glad when the mother put the child back in her pushchair and left us in peace.
Shortly after leaving the cafe we entered a shopping mall, I was fascinated by all the lights and decorations in shop windows, it was all so magical. There were young children queuing to visit Father Christmas in one of the department stores, many were coming out the other side with different coloured lolly pops and small gifts. It was like another world to me, as I'd never had the chance as a toddler to experience Father Christmas with his white beard.
Mum would decorate the forest cabin behind the veil with holly and we'd feast on fish in a special homemade white sauce with vegetables, followed by dried fruit and nuts. There would be hot chocolate to drink, which was my favourite while sitting by a cosy, welcoming fire. Mum would tell long stories of princesses, princes, dragons, unicorns and friendly wolves that would protect the innocent from danger, it was all I needed on Christmas day growing up in the forest surrounded by nature.
Back down in Tintagel we also enjoyed going for drives through the many villages and parking up to explore. Dad was amazed to discover the many bakeries open wherever we drove, where we again could buy cornish pasties that I thought were out of this world.
We'd been very lucky with the weather, it had remained cold but dry and sunny over the three days camping, so I was determined to go in the sea. Wearing just a tea shirt and shorts I ran down the beach shivering until reaching the shoreline, jumping through the waves as they got bigger and splashed my legs. Wading out clenching my body I held my breath and sunk down below the freezing cold salty water, waving to dad further up the beach as he stood holding my clothes. There was nothing that would persuade him to set foot in the sea, that he said was only fit for brass monkeys.
On the third evening of camping before we returned to the Spud family, dad took me to the local town hall where live music could be heard and people were invited to get up on stage to play or sing. I so enjoyed listening and dancing with dad, wishing I could play my mandolin, but of course I knew I need many more lessons and was a bit too young. Most of the musicians played old Cornish shanties, some played folk music and blues. It was exactly what dad enjoyed so he was happy, and he knew one of the local folk musicians who he introduced to me, I was fascinated to know he could play the mandolin, but sadly I'd left my instrument back at the house.
Christmas day had been so much fun with delicious food which included consuming a lot of chocolate from our stockings, then there was the lighthearted entertainment put on by the family. Each member of the household had a talent for which they performed.
I got everyone involved in a goth fashion show and gave a prize of a makeup kit for the best dressed. Of course it was Kate who won. I helped her with the makeup giving Kate the whitest face she'd ever had, then gave her eyes a makeover with black eye liner, followed by black lipstick. Then I fluffed up Kate's long hair by back combing and using loads of hair spray much to her mother Sally's annoyance, but thankfully it all washed out by the end of the day, and Kate's hair was back to its usual shine and long length. Next Kate tore holes in an old black tea shirt and wore one of my silver chains. This was followed by a large old black lace shawl of her mum's which Kate wore as a skirt with a pair of black leggings.
Everyone laughed as the men tried their hardest to dress goth, but somehow I thought they never quite got the right idea, that was all but dad, who knew exactly what I liked, he came dressed in a white Victorian style shirt with frills on the sleeves, a black scarf made into a bow around the neck, fashioned with his leather trousers. Dad already had the long hair which he normally wore in a ponytail, but on this occasion he left his hair hanging loose down passed the shoulders, hiding his black eye liner which he felt slightly embarrassed about, makeup not being his thing.
I had never seen so much food on a table at once. Christmas dinner was the biggest feast I'd ever experienced with everything from fish starter, to turkey with loads of vegetables, fluffy roast potatoes and gravy with redcurrant sauce and stuffing, followed by homemade Christmas pudding with cream. I was so stuffed by the end I went up to Kate's room where we both collapsed on Kate's bed and rested for an hour before continuing the celebrations.
To be continued...
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Comments
Lots of brilliant detail in
Lots of brilliant detail in this part Jenny
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I enjoyed your description of
I enjoyed your description of her delight in her first visit to the coast, and their long coastal walk (and first site of a crab!). We love cliff walks, and the variety of sea moods and the land's dips and twists, and different ways you can walk in circles. Rhiannon
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I like the bit about waking
I like the bit about waking up to hear he ocean below - I remember that from little when we had a camper van, I'd get up EARLY but my Dad was even earlier to catch fish, thankyou for reminding me :0)
The bit about her Dad wearing eyeliner but being embarrassed was a great character detail, and Kate's Mum being cross about the back combing
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