A Buffeting

For the last four days I have been trying to ignore the symptoms of a chest infection. It won’t let me, so this morning I spent doing six months worth of filing in my dressing gown.  It was me in the garment, not the files.

As the saying goes ‘feed a cold’, I was treated to a marvellous fry-up before we drove to the solicitor’s in Ringwood to repeat yesterday’s process of proving who we are and where we live for the purchase of The Old Post House.

Jackie then wanted to try out Holland’s in Milford on Sea which we hope will be our nearest general store.  This is just two miles from the house, the sea front being rather nearer.  For a change I stayed in the car while Jackie shopped.  WaveShe then drove us to the waterfront where the normally clearly visible Needles were obscured from view by the strong winds, spray, and choppy sea.  I don’t think it was really raining, but it seemed so, and the nearby Sturt Pond overflowed its banks.

Despite the conditions it was still quite a warm day, so I just had to get out Sea foamand experience the buffeting wind and the white foam riding the ochre water against the grey-brown sky.  Any gulls that had ventured above the height of the cars fought, sometimes unsuccessfully, to prevent themselves from being blown backwards.  Most sheltered at ground level among those few vehicles that were present.


A distant kite and a nearer gull were almost obliterated by walls of spray.  Realising the kite must be being flown from the vicinity of the pond, Jackie drove me to it and I attempted to catch up with the flyer, who was walking in the shelter of a steep bank along the top of which runs the sea path.  The pools of water and the lack of wellies meant I didn’t quite manage the encounter.  The buffeting was, however, pleasantly bracing.

Kite flying

After this interval we made our way back to Minstead, where, this evening Jackie fed my cold with a deep crusty pie filled with lean beef, chestnut mushrooms and onions; leaks and cauliflower; carrots and runner beans; mashed potato and swede.  Meaty home-made gravy was poured over all this.  After a necessary break, rice pudding was to follow.  I drank a glass of Roc des Chevaliers bordeaux superieur 2011, while Jackie imbibed her Hoegaarden.


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