April 2016 – Page 2 – derrickjknight

A Lost Shadow

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Ronan the Boilerman fitted a new thermostat to our hot water cylinder tank this morning. That means we no longer scald our hands and have to turn on the cold tap every time we want to wash them.

Jackie spent much of the day weeding and planting.

Once The Head Gardener had prepared it, I covered Elizabeth’s bed with compost. It took eight bags.

The gradual burgeoning throughout the garden can be seen, for example, along the Brick Path – and, yes, Jackie has smuggled in another owl since this was las displayed –

and along Margery’s Bed, in the foreground of which a geranium palmatum has pushed its way into the light.

We have varieties of tulip,

including tulipa saxatilis lilac wonder;

daffodil;

and aquilegia.

elegant leaves stretch their fingers out from this Japanese maple.

Pulmonaria crops up everywhere,

attracting equally hirsute bees clutching petals as they suck the nectar.

Butterflies, like this Small White flitting from honesty to honesty, are also back,

as are poppies, one of which, like Peter Pan, has lost its shadow.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s choice Ferndene Farm Shop chilli pork sausage casserole, mashed potato, carrots and Brussels sprouts, followed by chocolate eclairs. The Cook drank Hoegaarden, whilst I consumed more of the madiran.

No More Shell Building

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As usual when I travel to London, Waterloo, Jackie drove me to and from New Milton today. Apart from the fact that the ticket office was closed because the system wasn’t working, and I held up the queue for the machine on the platform because I didn’t know how to use it, the journey was uneventful.

When I last took today’s walk from Waterloo Station, across Westminster Bridge to Carol’s home off Victoria Street, I would have crossed York Road by footbridge from the station concourse. This was not possible today. The bridge was closed and we had to walk down steps on the station side, and along the road until reaching the County Hall corner before we could cross.

A great, gaping hole appeared where the Shell Building, a landmark as long as I can remember, had stood when I made the trip a year ago.

This is to become a South Bank Development of ‘exceptionally stylish apartments’. Apparently people are already queuing up to acquire them although prices have not yet been fixed.

Around the corner, on the approach to The London Eye, I noticed two men in hard hats sitting against the background of building works.

As I came nearer, one of the very friendly men held up warning hands to ensure that I did not, without a hard hat, enter the site. The other gentleman came over to me and we had a pleasant conversation during which he suggested I might prefer to be photographing the New Forest.

I then shot the scene without the workers.

Once on Westminster Bridge I was reminded how difficult it is to negotiate that thoroughfare during the tourist season.

The piper, however, was given some breathing space.

An assiduous road sweeper kept the area around Parliament Square suitably tidy. The Plane tree around which he had just wielded his brush, was bursting into leaf,

as were those in an unusually quiet Victoria Street,

and outside St Stephen’s Church, Rochester Row.

I didn’t note the name of the excellent Italian restaurant in that street where Carol and I enjoyed each other’s company over a superb meal. My choice was a tortellini and clear chicken stock soup followed by sea food risotto. We both chose creme brûlée. I drank Friuli sauvignon.

I returned to Waterloo on the 507 bus, from which I gained a clear view of Lambeth Palace.

P.S. Perusal of the comments by Paul and Geoff below, will show that the title and the inference of this post is only partially correct. The main tower remains. It is just the lower levels that have been removed.

Triangulation

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As the golden dawn crept across the rape field on the other side of Christchurch Road that greets Jackie when she opens the bedroom curtains, she commandeered my camera to good effect.

From one of the back bedrooms she looked down onto the lead planter fashioned by Lucille Scott in the form of a wide-brimmed hat.

A little later, I photographed the clouds over the front of the house.

Drawn by the beautiful morning we took an early drive into the forest, where

ponies enjoyed a crisp breakfast;

and commuter traffic was reflected in the roadside pools.

Having dropped me off for me to take the above picture, Jackie drove on to a turning space, back-tracked, and parked on the edge of the woodland I was now investigating.

Slanting shadows slid across tumbling terrain and plunging pools, and

in haze on the other side of the road, gorse conversed with fresh arboreal plumage.

Further on, a pair of donkeys dozed on Norleywood village green

whilst another couple availed themselves of the street furniture to have a good scratch.

As we approached Lymington we passed a bluebell wood. Given that there is a fear that the stronger, less delicate, yet lighter hued Spanish breed will subsume our native stock, an indigenous collection is a welcome sight.

On our recent trips to and from The First Gallery, we have several times passed a short man-made pillar in a stretch of moorland bearing a number of signs bearing the word Hilltop. Pooling our combined smatterings of knowledge we realised this was what would be marked ‘trig point’ on the Ordnance Survey maps and was something to do with measuring height, presumably above sea level.

Jackie decided to research this today, and discovered that, according to BBC News, on this very date ‘Ordnance Survey (OS) is celebrating the 80th anniversary of the triangulation pillar, most often known as a “trig pillar” or “trig point” and a welcome sight to many a walker as they reach the peak of their walk.’

That, in fact, was the real reason we dashed out to catch our little pillar in the morning sunshine. The pillar wasn’t going anywhere, but the light, we knew, would change. As will be seen on the link below, OS no longer use these markers for their original purpose, but they remain helpful landmarks. Many also now bear decoration from the general public. What this particular set of graffiti signifies I do not know.

Each pillar bears an identification number.

Most cameras have a tripod mount into which the steadying instrument is screwed. The theodolite, the measuring device used by these early surveyors was clipped to a fitting on the top of the pillar,

here seen in its setting.

For anyone wishing to explore this subject further, I can heartily recommend

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/in-pictures-36036561

which is lavishly illustrated by photographs, both historic and modern.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s succulent and spicy sausage casserole; creamy mashed potato; and crunchy carrots and Brussels sprouts. It is worthy of note that the sausages were Ferndene Farm Shop pork with chilli, which afforded a delicious piquancy. The Cook drank Blanche de Namur and I drank Reserve des Tuguets madiran 2012.

No Sale

Here is yesterday’s camouflaged deer, in the centre of the complete shot. As always. clicking on my images enlarges them. If once is not enough, a second gives a supersize.

Splendid sunlight lit upon the garden today as, leaving Aaron to his work, we drove to the final coffee morning of the exhibition.

Aaron completed the painting of the Ace Reclaim bench and reset the front side gate. The brick will hold it firm until the concrete, which he has tastefully covered with gravel, has set.

Unfortunately, the exhibition was less than successful. Attendance was meagre and no pictures, neither mine nor anyone else’s, were sold, although a number of my cards found buyers. We did however enjoy a pleasant couple of hours with our friends and a few of theirs.

This evening we dined on beefburgers, chips, cauliflower cheese, leeks, and tomatoes. I drank more of the madiran.

Spot The Deer

On a dull afternoon which only brightened up on our way home, Jackie took us on a driveabout to the North of the forest and back.

It being possibly the first weekend of the holiday season, pedestrians, cyclists and riders, like these on the outskirts of Brockenhurst, sometimes holding up proceedings, abounded.

It was the red coated little girl on the Thelwell pony, visible as the group turned left off the road, who caught our eye and had me leaping out of the car. Thanks to http://www.telegraph.co.uk for the image.

Beyond the 30 mph sign to the right of the first picture, can be seen the start of a waterlogged drive,

whilst the verge on the left bears typical pools of recent rainwater.

Ponies, ignoring the passing traffic, continued their task of mowing the grass, which is more than I could do at home today, because it was too wet.

Apart from the cyclist’s outfit, the fresh yellow gorse was the brightest aspect of this particular soggy stretch.

At Ibsley, a string of sedate donkeys exercised their right of way among the traffic,

whilst, further on at Hyde cows had the intelligence to teach their calves road sense by taking a detour around us. As you can see, there is one behind us.

Readers may discern a camouflaged deer in this shot. It’s there, honest.

Unfortunately I pressed Publish before adding our meal and the tags. This should put that right. We enjoyed beef burgers, fried onions, chips, and baked beans for our dinner, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden, and I drank Reserve des Tuguets madiran 2012.

Wiltshire And The West End

Steady rain fell most of the day, so I scanned some more colour slides for posterity. The more observant readers will note that I have converted three to black and white images.

19th December 1979 was Matthew’s eleventh birthday. Being the generous soul he is, he allowed Becky to blow out his cake candles. I had to be quick to take this shot because these flickering flames were my only source of light.

Just before Christmas Jessica, Michael and I took a trip to Jessica’s parents in Wiltshire.

This standing stone must have been photographed at Avebury,

above which Jessica and Piper romped on the hillside.

Mat and Becky always enjoyed a trip to Trafalgar Square. In December 1979 you were still welcome to feed the birds with crusts of bread,

which, like the rooks foraging in the turf beneath our New Forest ponies, tried their luck around the sculptured hoofs of King George IV’s horse.

Lord Nelson’s memorial square is a very short walk from what was our flat in Horse and Dolphin Yard, in the doorway of which beam Jessica and Michael.

This Mews Yard lay off Macclesfield Street, between Gerard Street and Shaftesbury Avenue leading to

Piccadilly Circus, photographed in January 1980.

Jackie has abandoned me this evening for a trip to Surrey and a meal with her good friend, Pauline, which they have both been looking forward to. I therefore dined alone on fried eggs, bacon, potatoes, and carrots, with toast. I have never tried the orange vegetables with a fry-up before. They add a certain pleasant piquancy.

Soil Transfusion

An early bird atop the oak across Christchurch Road admired this morning’s dawn sky which presaged a fine day.

And so it was. Warm enough to put the washing out.

My meagre task of the day was to begin the ongoing battle with the triffid invasion from our neighbour, North Breeze.

It is important to tackle the aliens early enough to prevent them from rooting on our side of the ramshackle border, as had this bramble.

When they burst through the greenhouse glass, as they did in the film (see the above link), then we will surely need to watch out.

It is a sad aspect of this jungle that it was once a wonderful garden, where the ghosts of such as

this rose,

this fruit tree,

this camellia,

and this magnolia, battle through to the light.

North Breeze neighbours the whole of the West side of our property, and turns the corner along the North side of the Back Drive,

where, watched by a sparrow,

Jackie was putting the finishing touches (just for the moment) to her creative planting.

Another regular operation she performs, on which she was engaged later, is soil transfusion. Much of the soil in the garden is rather anaemic and needs replenishing. Here, the surgeon has cut out a poorly section, removed the spent matter, and inserted a healthy supply.

She will then sift through the choked plants she has carefully preserved, extracting the smelly allium bulbs, and replant what she wishes to keep.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s luscious lamb jalrezi with savoury rice and parathas. She drank Hoegaarden whilst I drank Kingfisher.

‘You Wouldn’t Like To Do That Again, Would You?’

On another warm and sunny day that, once we had got going in the garden, felt like the height of summer, we continued soil preparation. In addition to all her other maintenance tasks

Jackie dug in the compost she had laid on the Palm Bed yesterday,

and I completed the mulching of the rose garden with three more 100 litre bags of Landscape Bark. I swear they are becoming heavier by the day.

Looking from the Back Drive towards this section,

or across the Helicon Path towards the house,

one can see the burgeoning new growth popping up everywhere.

We now have profusions of Spanish bluebells,

and of forget-me-nots.

Permanently perched on the telephone cable over Christchurch Road is a male collared dove,

pretending he is nothing to do with the nest in our holly tree upon which his lady is incubating.

Even when paying a visit, he first lands on the flowering cherry photographed yesterday. Since he is quite a ponderous creature he shakes the boughs freeing many cherry petals,

just as Matthew did to the delight of Hannah, Ben, and Sam in May 1983.

This evening we dined at Dynasty in Brockenhurst with Elizabeth, Danni and Andy. My choice was lamb shatkora, special fried rice an onion bhaji. Along with Jackie I drank Kingfisher. The others drank red wine, cobra, or coke. Service and food were excellent.

The restaurant is close to the ford which we could see was waterlogged. As we were ten minutes early, I sniffed a photo opportunity and wandered down the road.

This was the scene as I approached, directly into the sun.

I was a bit slow to catch two cyclists wheeling through their spray. As they passed me I cried: ‘You wouldn’t like to do that again, would you’. ‘Do it again?’ was the reply. ‘Yes’, I answered.

They immediately turned tail, sped through the water,

and, returning quite happily, enjoyed another shower.

Mulching And Composting

The early sun set the front garden glowing gold, as always, this morning. The autumn flowering cherry has been in bloom since last October. The telegraph pole, from which a cluster of cables fans out along Christchurch Road and all points of the compass, receives regular visits from BT engineers.

What this area looked like a year ago can be seen in ‘Before And After: Through To The Front’.

Much maintenance was carried out today,

my major contribution being mulching the three bags of Landscape Bark bought yesterday into the rose garden;

and Jackie’s, weeding and composting The Palm Bed.

This wide-eyed owl was decapitated by storm Katie. Surgeon Jackie performed the necessary operation.

We are still at least three bags of bark short for the rose garden, so this afternoon we drove back to

Mole Country Stores and bought them;

after which we took a roundabout route back through the farm lanes where we spotted a group of ponies, three of which masqueraded as sheep. Sway Tower can be seen in the background. Otherwise known as Peterson’s Folly, this landmark has featured in a number of these posts.

Finally, we topped up with compost in the form of ten 35 litre bags from Lidl.

We left those in the car and settled down for a beer (well, one each, actually) in the rose garden. It is quite a sun trap so we were certainly warm enough.

This evening we dined on tender fillet steak lost under lashings of fried onions. accompanied by mixed vegetables au gratin (left overs in cheese sauce), crisp carrots, Brussels sprouts, and new potatoes. Jackie drank sparkling water and I finished the Memoro.

A Game Of Cards

This morning, Ronan, of Tom Sutton Heating, serviced our boiler. It was in good working order.

It was another rainy day, with the occasional spell of sunshine, yet brightening up in the afternoon, enough for Jackie to indulge in more planting. I wondered how long this large pendulous drop would take to slip down to the next camellia leaf, and so on to the soil below.

I made a couple of A4 prints of the two young ladies carrying the Landscape Bark on 8th, and presented one of them with the pictures when we visited Mole Country Supplies for three more bags. This time a pair of young gentlemen loaded our car. Jackie observed that I ‘didn’t whip out [my] camera and take a photograph’. ‘Well’, said I, ‘they were not ……’ ‘female’ interjected my Driver. I completed my sentence with ‘….. quite so photogenic’.

When I wrote about Robyn Ghyll on 26th March 2013, I did not have access to the colour slides taken on that holiday in August 1979. I scanned them today. Brief details of the stay can be found by following the link.

Here Matthew leans on the dry stone garden wall of the Trevelyan holiday home,

in which Jessica conducts a card game requiring great concentration from Cherie and Maxine, but receiving very little from Vital who obscures cousin Jackie.

Jessica, Becky, and Michael’s dog, Piper, enjoyed splashing about in a freezing tarn. I am not sure how the floral hairpiece remained in place.

Jessica must have dried off for this portrait.

To call the meal Jackie served up this evening ‘Cauliflower Cheese’ is misleading. What it consisted of was cauliflower in a cheese mustard sauce including sauteed leeks and tomatoes, garnished with lean bacon rashers. With this delightfully tangy meal, I drank Piccini Memoro red wine.