Why being “officially” Cornish makes me happy and sad all at once.


A few days ago I was besieged with facebook messages from my friends at home. Then a phone call from my mother who was having a party.

“Finally! We are CORNISH NOT ENGLISH!!” She shouted down the phone. Then came a lot of stuff in Cornish that I honestly only understood bits of.

I’m glad that the Cornish have officially been declared a national minority. Mainly because I was fed up of getting into fights with English people about the fact that Cornwall is J.N.E. – Just Not England. Most of the people who end up moving to Cornwall feel the same… there is just something – something – different about it and it’s hard sometimes to define what. Even I find it hard and I am from there!

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Pasty Friday at the flat (with recipe!)

When I was a little girl, the best day of the week was Friday. Not because it was the end of the school week, though that was obviously fantastic. No, Friday was the day when my mum, my little sister and me trundled up to my great grandparents’ house in the next village and my gran cooked dinner. And it was always pasties. My granny Peggy would disappear into her kitchen and emerge with the most beautiful pasties week after week and those Fridays stand out as highlights of my early childhood.

Me, my sister and my great grandparents on a pasty friday

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