Striking while the iron is hot

Why oh why don’t I learn from my mistakes. We were once in Port Stewart in Northern Ireland and visited a favourite gallery. I came across a wonderful print of a painting of a boat on the edge of a misty lake. It was a little empty rowing boat, moored but with its bow out into the lake. Although it was foggy across the water, there was a golden glow as if the sun was just breaking through, maybe early morning on what would be a lovely summer’s day. You couldn’t see the other side of the water, it vanished into the mist which was a similar colour to the silvery lake.

The painting was only £30 but I dithered over it, thinking I would get it before the end of the holiday. A cousin was staying with us and gave my some money as a contribution towards the accommodation and meals; I didn’t want to accept it, but she insisted and told me to go and get the painting. We went to buy the painting… and it was gone! I couldn’t even remember the artist except his or her name began with F… I asked the person working in the gallery… but they didn’t remember the picture… and so it was lost to me.

That happened with a couple of other paintings too so really I should have leaned my lessons; when I was eighteen there was a local artists show and there was a marvellous picture of a bright autumn day with silver birches and beeches turning from green to gold and bronze… I don’t suppose it cost much, but I didn’t get it.. Then in the 1980’s I saw another picture, of a green river, snaking lazily through meadows with willows along the banks, it was in a shop in Bourton-on-the-Water, did I buy it? Did I heck!

So yesterday, when I was having a cup of coffee in a cafe in Taunton and I picked up a free magazine and saw an interesting recipe for Christmas Pudding, did I take it? Did I copy it? Did I photograph the page?…. What do you think!