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#cornwall

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When we first announced to the family that we were moving to Cornwall, many years ago, my late father in law retorted, "Why do you want to move there? It's a shithole!"

Well, quite.

Of course, it was partly his desire to keep us closer to home (we'd moved back briefly for family reasons which had resolved themselves). But he genuinely couldn't see why we wouldn't want to live in a post-industrial town in the north.

And we, wanting *this* (if you zoom in bottom left, that's spouse and dog swimming in the sea, in March) couldn't understand why he'd want to stay in a place which put the grim into 'It's grim up north'.

Our kids, of course, are wanting to fly the nest (whilst still being happy to live here in the holidays and life transitions) and look at the places we escaped from.

My main point is this: ooh, look at the lovely photo as a distraction from the world; but also, your perfectly logical reasoning and impeccable lifestyle are not somebody else's dream. They make choices which are different and do you know what? They're ok with them. My father in law was much happier with his golf club and local boozer than he ever would have been living over a hundred miles from the nearest IKEA, and our kids want to be where something is happening, all the time. And they're horrified that we're seriously planning to move to the Outer Hebrides.

Like, "Why do you want to move there? It's a shithole!" horrified (even if not in those exact words). Genes will out.

Anyway, photo for general ambience and a reminder that the imbeciles won't be around for ever.

#Beach#Landscape#Sea

St Germans Church, Cornwall

Two marvels in one: the Norman portal on the West front is unrivalled in the county, with seven orders of decoration, built of beautiful sage-green stone from Tarten Down at nearby Landrake. The wooden door was commissioned in 1903 by the Countess of St Germans, and sports a bronze door handle designd by Henry Wilson, featuring beautifully tactile fish. Also shown in my profile image.