Childhood Memories - The village pub. . . . .

The Devon Dumpling, Shiphay, Torquay 2019

The Devon Dumpling 2014

Old signage was still there in this photo.

Although I left my home in England 58 years ago, one of the things I still miss is my 'local'. British people living in villages, towns, even cities, usually have a favorite pub (public house) within walking distance of their home. It's not just a place to have a drink, or even a meal, it's the social center of that particular community. The pub has been the heart and soul of British social life for centuries especially in villages. Nothing better than an hour or so spent with friends at the local pub as the drizzly rain fell, which was often the case!

When I was growing up, this particular old building was part of a dairy farm where they also raised angora rabbits. Later, the farmhouse became a 'school of dance' and I took ballet and tap classes there for a year or so when I must have been about six or seven. It then became our local pub while I was still a child. I recall walking there for a bag of Smith's Crisps (the best potato chips) now and then, just a 5 minute walk from home, and during a safer time in this crazy world. After reaching my late teens I had a drink there off and on (drinking age is lower in England than the US) and played a game of darts, before emigrating to the States. I have always stopped by on visits home, a familiar place I could never pass up. There's a 'Beer Garden', the outdoor area where you can take children as they are not permitted in pub bars, and 'The Dumpling' is well known for excellent pub food. Meals are served both in the bar and in an upstairs dining room - we always try to get the snug little table by the fireplace, especially during a winter visit.

Over the years I've enjoyed dozens of lunches and suppers there with family members and old friends during my visits home, and one very enjoyable reunion many years ago in the '80's for the 'children' of my village neighborhood. I met up with playmates and school friends, some I'd not seen since I was eight when we moved to another house also just a short walk from the pub. That was certainly a night to remember and I won the prize - a bottle of Champagne of course - for having traveled the farthest distance to reach our 'local'. It did feel a little strange as several people still lived within a stone's throw from the pub, whereas I had traveled close to 4,000 miles!

Shiphay Village thatched cottages and the Devon Dumpling pub.

Trip home to Torquay with granddaughter Jasmin in

2015 to celebrate her 18th Birthday.

Sadly, our trip scheduled for last year didn't happen due to the

 pandemic travel restrictions. Reservations are 

made for this spring and hopefully we can go - if not we will

try for autumn. The Devon Dumpling will wait for us I'm certain.

Pen and Ink. . . . . . .

This photo was taken from our table by the window on the upper floor of the little 
Dublin corner pub. It looked out toward the charming antiquated shop front. 
The rain had stopped, the early evening sun peeped out as it often does in Ireland, 
and, as we dined on very good fish 'n chips, I thought about writing.  

Writing with a very good fountain pen as I used to. 

On leaving the pub we crossed the street and peered in the windows at the 

displays. Beautiful writing instruments, boxes of note cards, papers and

 envelopes, I had to go back next morning when the shop was open.

The shop was quaint, pens and such upstairs with two knowledgeable 

young ladies behind the counter. Downstairs, a wonderful selection of 

greeting cards, writing papers, wrapping papers, note cards, notebooks

 and journals.

I could have spent an entire morning there just looking.

I picked out two boxes of exquisite note cards. Perhaps some day

you'll find one in your mailbox - would you like that?

I shared my fountain pen price point, not the cheapest but definitely not

the thousand Euros or more beauties! The clerk showed me several, dipped 

the ones I wanted to test, and showed me how modern pens are filled, 

cleaned etc. I chose a Parker fountain pen, very classic in design and

a brand I used for many years in a different time and place.

There are so many inks available now in every color imaginable.

I decided on a warm brown, choosing an ink from the French company

Herbin (depuis 1670) in Lie De Thé which translates to 'tea dregs'.

Marilyn, you will love that one!

Marilyn is my dear Oregon 'tea lady' friend and, if you want to 

know anything about that particular beverage, be sure to visit 

her always delightful blog, aptly named DELIGHTS OF THE HEART.

We met in person a few years back and shared some lovely cups

of tea together in special Portland places, including her lovely home.

My new pen and ink.

All photos via iPhone

Do you use a fountain pen?  If so, what color is your ink?

Are you interested in sharing the written word via snail mail - a note, 

a postcard with a stamp, handwritten of course - a surprise in your mailbox?

Let me know.