A walk with an Oil Beetle, noisy sheep and a rare water valve

A few photographs from a walk this week in our locality. A complete contrast to the scenery on our recent trip to Mull, posts for which will follow once I pull my finger out and get the SD card out of my camera. In the meantime, enjoy some West Country scenery.

The circular walk started and ended in the nearby village of Luckett, just 2 miles from where we live. A not-too-challenging 5.6 miles in glorious weather and equally glorious countryside.

A lovely find by one of our group. It's a quite rare Black Oil Beetle. This group of insects (there are several different types in the UK) have a unique and fascinating life cycle. The eggs hatch and a larval form known as a triungulin emerges. This climbs into a neighbouring flower and hitches a ride on a visiting bee. It is taken back to the hive and lives there on bee eggs, honey and nectar until it is an adult, which leaves the hive and starts the life cycle all over. I find that amazing, and you should, too. And if you are lucky enough to spot an Oil Beetle, do take a photograph (showing the thorax, if possible, as this aids the type identification), make a note of where you saw it and send details to the Cornwall Wildlife Trust, who will add the details to their database.

Looking south-ish towards Kit Hill with its iconic stack on top. In the foreground is a field recently sown with a crop and covered with permeable plastic, which acts as a cloche and aids germination. There's obviously been a change in farming practice this year as we seem to be seeing more and more fields covered in this stuff. It doesn't look good but does get better when the crop gets going and breaks through the plastic to cover it in green.

Lady's Smock (Cardamine pratensis) or Cuckoo Flower, so called as it was thought to flower when cuckoos made their first appearance each year. Across the country these plants are becoming rarer as meadows disappear but around here there seems to be plenty of them.

Is there any flower more vivid than the Bluebell? It seems to be a good year for them. But the Spanish variety continues its challenge of our native species. Will Brexit halt them in their tracks? It's definitely one immigrant I'd like to keep out.

Curious calves coming to take a look at our motley band of walkers. I've been around animals long enough to take them in my stride but I recognise that, to the uninitiated, a group like this trotting towards you at speed can be quite alarming.

Ah, that's better. Kit Hill towering over 'normal' fields without the plastic. It looks tranquil, and it is, but this belies the mining and quarrying activity that would have set the area buzzing 150 years or so ago. At least 4 mines and 2 quarries would have been obvious then, with a few more down in the valley bottom where the tree belt is now.

The mining heritage of the area is gradually becoming less visible as sites are absorbed back into the landscape. But there are a few buildings that are being restored and converted into dwellings. Here is the engine house at Broadgate and it is in about Year 5 of the renovation project. It must be a labour of love and I've enjoyed watching the new building rise out of the former ruin. 

Let joy be unbounded. It's not often we come across one of these. It's a granite trough with, and you'll never believe this, a Prewett and Sprong Mark III Overhead Ball Valve Dispenser. These are so rare, they have almost mythological status in the world of Ball Valve Spotters. Wow, to me at least. Whilst I enjoy paroxysms of pleasure, Mrs P usually sighs, rolls her eyes and walks quickly on her way, shaking her head.

Finally, a video clip of sheep. Just sheep, doing what sheep do in a very noisy way. We couldn't work out why they were making such a din but they were clearly spooked about something. Was it the colour of my socks or my daft headgear? Or, perhaps, they were getting excited about the forthcoming General Election? After all, a lot of people will be voting like sheep but let's leave that to another day.

Pigs 2017: An ending and a beginning

"Pigs again this year?" came the question. And the answer is "yes".  Coincidentally we've just completed a collective homage to last year's group with a special Pig Lunch at Langman's Restaurant in Callington. The chef, Anton Buttery, devised a one-off menu for us using parts of the pig that we would not normally eat and parts that had been in the freezer since the slaughter. A copy of the menu is shown below and featured such delicacies (?) as crispy ears, crispy head, 'quaver' skin, cheeks, sweetbreads, black pudding made with a hint of snout and some crackling. All that plus some 'standard' belly and tenderloin. It was a delicious meal and a fitting tribute to both Anton's culinary skills and our expertise at pig raising.

The menu, unique in the true sense of the word.

Just the one photograph as my camera-phone was playing up. This is the black pudding course.

A couple of days after the meal and a working party spent a few hours getting the pig field ready for the next set of occupants - eleven of the beauties due to be picked up from Penzance on May 3rd. We are going with the same breed and the same supplier. Why change a winning combination?

I'll give the pigs about two weeks to root their way through all this new grass.

Keep an eye out for this one.

Writing a review of a play for our local parish magazine is always a little daunting. What if I don't like it? When this happens, I always try to focus on the positives, however elusive they may be. But those who know me can see through my damning with faint praise and can decipher the code. And so we come to last night's one-man show at the Old School: The Odyssey (Greek Stuff). Luckily no need for coded language, it was great. If you have a chance of seeing it as it does the rounds, do. You won't regret it. Here's what I've written for next month's Old School News.

The mythical tales of the Greek gods of ancient times are, by their very definition, epic, heroic and magical. Translating them into a one-man show is, on the face of it, a hiding to nothing in the making. How can you depict storms at sea, enchanting creatures of the deep and sorcerous sirens on an almost bare stage with just a scrap of cloth as a costume? All concerns were quickly forgotten the moment David Mynne stepped onto the Old School ‘stage’ and launched into his hilarious retelling of the classic tale. Utilising a piece of blue material, a stack of wooden crates and virtually no other props, David morphed into a legion of characters: as the story unfolded he brought to life opposing armies and their ensuing battles, the sacking of Troy and the subsequent struggle by Odysseus to return home to his wife and son.

The journey home after victory at Troy took 10 years, during which time Odysseus and his crew (lead by his faithful first mate, Pilates) meet obstacles at every turn. They take on a Cyclops, are lured by Sirens, drugged by Lotus Eaters and Odysseus has a wild love affair with a witch goddess, Circe, who wreaks further havoc by turning his men into pigs. More drama follows as they are drawn into the depths of hell when Poseidon sends a storm to wreck the ship in retaliation for the death of the Cyclops who just happened to be Poseidon’s son. Eventually the hapless Odysseus finally arrives home, only to find that his wife, Penelope, has a queue of suitors trying to convince her of his demise and pestering to marry her. The final moments of this grand piece deliver an unexpectedly brilliant feminist sting in the tail.

Liberally sprinkled amongst the traditional narrative are numerous surreal detours and side adventures casually thrown in to raise a laugh and move the story along. David produced teeny tiny models, created voices and threw the cloth around to suggest costumes. Maybe it’s my age but I’m sure I detected more than a hint of Michael Bentine's Potty Time as David conjured up images with words and sounds.

On this day in 1917, Private Thomas Murley was killed.

Private 45628

THOMAS STANLEY MURLEY

8th Battalion Devonshire Regiment
Died age 25

2nd April 1917

Thomas Stanley Murley was born in 1892 in Lynton, Devon. He was one of the four sons and two daughters of Thomas and Elizabeth Murley. His mother, Elizabeth, was a daughter of Edmund Gill, a well known Victorian fern grower who took advantage of the mild climate in North Devon to establish a nursery. His house in Lynton was called The Fernery and still bears that name today. Thomas Murley Senior joined his father-in-law in this business.

Thomas’s aunty, Annie, had married Edmund Dingle from Venterdon and it was here that Thomas Stanley lived and it is here that he is mentioned in the 1901, where he appears with his mother, and 1911 censuses. It is likely that he joined the family engineering business as his occupation is given as a ‘student engineer’ in the 1911 census. His father died in 1906.

At some point, he enlisted in the Devonshire Regiment in Exeter and entered the France and Flanders Theatre of War as part of the 8th Battalion. His service thereafter is unknown but we do know that on April 2nd 1917, during the Battle of Arras, his battalion attacked the village of Ecoust, just south east of Arras. One description of this engagement describes it as a ‘great success and light casualties’. This description is at odds with the official version in the Battalion War Diary which details an advance under cover of a creeping barrage of artillery firepower, meeting a hail of machine gun and rifle fire and ending up with hand-to-hand combat.

It was in this battle that Thomas was killed and his body was one of those never recovered. He is commemorated on the Arras Memorial and is also remember on memorials in his birthplace, Lynton. He left few effects and his mother received his estate of £2 19s 6p, which is worth around £80 today.

Sadly Thomas's younger brother, Percy Douglas Murley, also of the 8th Battalion, the Devonshire Regiment, was killed on 1st July 1916 aged 20.

Arras Memorial



Detail of the Lynton war memorial



Lynton war memorial

Notification of Thomas Murley's effects.