CLICK ON INDIVIDUAL IMAGES TO ENLARGE. THOSE IN GROUPS LEAD TO GALLERIES WHICH CAN BE VIEWED FULL SIZE.
(YVONNE SPOILER ALERT. THE RECIPE IS NOT YET READY, BUT YOU MAY WISH TO AVERT YOUR EYES FROM THE FINAL PARAGRAPH)
Late in the morning Jackie drove us to Nomansland where we lunched in the Lamb Inn.
Even at midday, ponies on the green outside dined on defrosted food, avoiding the refrigerated options.
In the hostelry, beside a fine log fire, and beneath a display of character jugs, I enjoyed a burger, chips, and Doom Bar beer; while Jackie chose a bacon, brie, and cranberry baguette with coffee.
As we drove away, we passed a rider who led her steed through the gate to her left.
At St Peter’s Church, Bramshaw, the autumn leaves blended well with the groggy lichen-covered gravestones, mostly dating from the eighteenth century. Steep steps lead up the hill from the roadside; there is also a slope to the side, no doubt for those parishioners who cannot climb.
Most of the structure seemed to be Georgian in date, although one stone wall looked older,
and I am not enough of an architectural historian to date this fascinating chimney.
Thinking it unlikely that the Modus would obstruct anyone, Jackie tucked it in beside the church. She was unlucky. Along came a hedge cutting machine.
We paused at Wootton so I could photograph a couple of ponies drinking from a stream. As I raised my camera, one leaped from the water to the bank above.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s luscious liver casserole, crunchy carrots and green beans, with creamy mashed potato. She drank sparkling water and I drank Collin-Bourisset Fleurie 2015.