Yellow Ticket

The storm, having filled the deepest ditches, and extended the pools on the fields and the roads, had desisted this morning when we began the day with a shopping trip to Tesco. This supermarket, like all the other home-grown ones, is feeling the squeeze from the Germans, Lidl and Aldi. There were notices everywhere announcing cheaper brands.

Tree in waterlogged fieldWaterlogged field

By midday the dull weather had evaporated into clear blue sunlit skies. After lunch I walked up Hordle Lane, right into Sky End Lane, left into Vicarage Lane, and left again, returning home back along Hordle Lane. I was lucky, for the rain set in soon afterwards.

Drink container in ditchDitch and shadow

Discarded detritus now floated in ochre waters of the ditches which I photographed with my back to the warming sun.

Hordle Lane 1Hordle Lane 2JoggerPoniesWoman walking dogPools glinted on the lanes and reflected the trees and skies above. A jogger ran past the paddock in which the ponies chomped on their fodder. Later he returned in the opposite direction, possibly eventually passing a woman and her exotic looking dog glowing in the sunlight, and casting long shadows.


Cars running through poolSome vehicles sped through the pools on the tarmac, sending up showers of water; others slowed and sprayed a little.

Tree reflectedSmall birdsOn Vicarage Lane, which enjoyed numerous reflective puddles, I engaged in conversation with a friendly woman tending her garden. She had noticed me attempting to photograph small birds in her trees. We didn’t know what they were, but they were attracted by nuts she had hung up for her visiting tits, siskins, and a solitary woodpecker.


Blackbirds scurried in the hedgerows.

All Saints ChurchGravestones

At the corner of Vicarage and Hordle Lanes, lies the Parish Church of All Saints, Hordle. Shafts of gleaming sunlight illuminated the sleepy resting place of former parishioners.

Jackie’s matured liver and bacon casserole was enhanced by the discrete taste of fresh mushrooms and peppers for tonight’s dinner. They were accompanied by prime mashed potato, and crisp cabbage, carrots and cauliflower, then followed by Tesco’s finest Belgian chocolate choux buns. Our dessert was purchased this morning at half price. Such is the UK’s obsession with ‘best before’, ‘use by’, and ‘sell by’ dates, that supermarkets cannot sell goods beyond whichever of these phrases appears the most relevant. Neither, for fear of lawsuits for food poisoning, are they able to give them away. They therefore do the next best thing and reduce the price. Our buns bore the legend ‘use by’ today. Had we purchased them later in the day, they would probably have been even cheaper. In this particular outlet you can recognise reduced items by their yellow ticket.

We each drank the same beverage as yesterday.


  1. I loved your pictures, especially the buildings. I couldn’t live in the UK, weather in all, but in our city, actually southern California period, everything is so “new.” I wish we had the history.

  2. What a beautiful, scintillating walk. I adore the walks of recent rain. Wonderful images and beautiful tale reflecting your sodden jaunt. Very exotic-looking dog, indeed! Looks like a cross between a toy eskimo dog and a greyhound. Very interesting! Superb photographs and words. I was transfixed, walking along with you down the winding lane, fringed with munching ponies in blazing green pastures and joggers sloshing through the puddles of swirling trees and the long sniveling shadows. Beautiful. Jubilant cheers,

    smiling toad

      1. Good golly, don’t you dare…you are a fine wordsmith. My words drip and drizzle into a horrid, frowzy mess, as it seems they did in my comment. My apologies. I get carried away! 😉 The rain in your post splashed away my senses. I just get so excited by the rain…kind of…how a toad does…

        Grinning cheers,

        smiling toad

  3. If i were competent I’d post a photo of my wife and I in that graveyard on our wedding day. The number of harvest festivals, remembrance days with the scouts etc I spent there. My first girlfriend (well, I like to think of her as such; she might demur) lived in the Old Vicarage. Not a million miles away from the petrol station and the Wheel where I had both my first illegal and legal pints. We (well, my parent really – I left at 18 but it stayed the family home) lived on Silver Street (on the junction with Barrow’s Lane as it leads down to Peterson’s Folly) from 1969 to 2006. I set my first novel there – in 1976, a comic coming of age tale. Happy days indeed. Thanks for the photos.

  4. So that’s Geoff! Small world, eh?

    Even before I started following you, you were taunting me with the dreaded ‘l’ dish, matured in this case! Whatever next?

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