June 2017 – Page 3 – derrickjknight

The North/South Divide

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Today was another dull one with little sun after 10 a.m. This morning we took a motorised stroll through the forest

and brunched at Hyde-Out Café where I enjoyed a tastefully presented full English.

Just outside Bashley the first bunch of cyclists began disrupting the traffic.

Someone had recently lobbed food packaging into the stream crossing Holmsley Passage, along which we passed the resident of

the modern house that was once the site of the crossing keeper’s cottage.

At Burley ponies had been engaged to mow the outfield of the cricket green.

Some took a break,

and, for one, the task had become all too exhausting.

It being the grockle season, only the narrower lanes like Braggers were free of cyclists and other cars designed to send drivers onto the verges.

More common were crocodiles like these escorted children wobbling along

opposite the irises blooming in Whitemoor Pond.

Mauve foxgloves stood proudly erect all over the forest.

On the slopes on other side of the road leading into Bolderwood, where the first two of these pictures were taken, wild orchids clustered among the curling ferns.

Someone had lobbed a bottle into this lovely landscape.

Logging had been carried out in the vicinity of this stump with its moss-covered exposed roots.

The A31, that bisected the forest into North and South, spans the road through Bolderwood, bringing the modern world into stark contrast with the historic home of this equine family whose ancestors grazed the forest floors for centuries.

One of two riders crossing the heath on the other side of the main thoroughfare gave me a pleasant smile, after which we exchanged waves.

For our dinner this evening Jackie produced tasty chicken thighs marinaded in lemon and herbs and roasted with peppers; boiled potatoes, carrots, and green beans.

The Fountains of Bergerac

It hadn’t been a good idea to sit up half the night watching the general election which resulted in a hung Parliament. Not when I had to make a start on putting together accounts information for my accountant. Not when we received a surprise visit from a prospective buyer for the house next door to discuss a boundary issue. Not when I had to deal with correspondence and phone conversations on that subject with the seller’s solicitor. Not when I was engaged in on-line communications of various other natures including reading and responding to followers’ comments. Not when all these activities were being juggled together.

I was beginning to wonder how I was going to summon the energy for photography when Sam came to the rescue.

When my son and his family left us in Portsmouth a couple of days ago they were en route to France where they spent the night in Caen and visited the Bayeux tapestry before going on to Sigoules to our house in that village. Because of the early morning trip to Southampton Hospital we managed to send them off without the keys. This necessitated my having to arrange for the estate agent out there to provide Sam with a set of keys, and to contain my anxiety until the handover had been accomplished. That had also interfered with my sleep the night before the election.

This morning the family explored Bergerac where the children enjoyed the fountains.

This one, where Malachi and Orlaith soon engaged with a little friend, is in the medieval Old Town. I have myself enjoyed many an ice-cream from the kiosk opposite while seated on that little wall.

These further fountains must have been installed in the newer environs some time after my last visit.

In e-mailing these images, Sam had unwittingly saved my bacon. Given that Malachi’s new raincoat was also left behind in Downton it is just as well that they are clearly enjoying good weather.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s excellent beef casserole, new potatoes, carrots, green beans, and cauliflower cheese.

King Henry VIII’s Favourite Warship

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This morning Jackie drove me to New Milton for a visit to the bank, and back to Milford on Sea where we voted in the general election.

Three days of strong winds had wrought their usual havoc on the garden. After lunch we tied up and dead-headed roses; gathered broken branches and taller plants; and generally tidied up. The big beast has also returned, so Jackie blocked up the newest hole under the fence. All this came to a halt when heavy rain drove us inside.

I then worked on representing the tour of the Portsmouth Historic Dockyard that was our last family adventure before Sam, Holly, Malachi, and Orlaith set off for France.

On the approach to the waterfront, H.M.S. Warrior https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/HMS_Warrior_(1860) comes into view. This vessel is a mere youngster compared with our main target of the afternoon.

We were advised that we would have insufficient time to view the two main attractions. Despite the figurehead of Lord Nelson from H.M.S. Trafalgar (1841) watching over

H.M.S. Victory, the latter vessel was the one we decided to forego.

We did, however, marvel at what we could see without going on board. Orlaith, sporting her new red plaster cast, perches on Sam’s shoulders, while Malachi, Holly, and Jackie stand beside them.

On 19th July 1545, 465 crew members from a complement of 500 drowned in The Solent. They were on board the Mary Rose which, after 34 years of active service, and just having fought off the French invasion fleet, sank with frightening rapidity and with no apparent cause. After years of searching, the wreck was discovered in 1971 and finally raised in 1982. Not until 2016 was the careful preservation work completed.

The museum we visited, by keeping the lighting low, discouraging flash photography, and with carefully controlled air conditioning, provides us with a wonderful experience of what life was like on board. One of the attendants told me that, on the upper levels, at that very moment engineers were working to revive the air conditioning that had developed a fault. I imagine the little modern gadgets visible in some of the cabinets must be monitors of some kind.

Suspended on the upper level hangs a model of the ship with an invitation to visitors to draw it. Almost everything else has been brought to the surface from the silt of The Solent.

What has been revealed of the original vessel is essentially a cross-section preserved by the mud and silt as it lay on its side. There are nine viewing galleries from which visitors may gaze upon skeletal decks first assembled almost 500 years ago. The first of these deck pictures shows scenes of sailors screened on the boards; in the background of the last are visitors looking down from various other levels.

We are greeted at the entrance by a very lifelike waxwork of the monarch himself.

The first exhibit is a wooden emblem of a Tudor rose, still decipherable after half a millennium beneath the sea.

A number of cannons and cannon balls are displayed as if piercing the decks to fire on the enemy.

A number of cabinets are dedicated to the barber surgeon, that essential crew member. We see his cabin furnishings,

and various items of equipment.

Bricks and a galvanised bath lie in a heap.

The skeleton of a dog and a backgammon board give a good touch of ordinary life.

Another waxwork is of an archer

remains of whose outfit lie in one cabinet,

and whose bows

and arrows appear in others.

This sturdy-looking gentleman trying out his pulling power blanched a bit when I asked him to repeat the effort for the camera. His arms were aching from his first two attempts.

Other weapons are the pikes and bills used to repel boarders.

A brick fireplace

was essential for the cook whose barrels, jugs, dishes, and other utensils were near at hand.

Many items of rigging were recovered,

as was the crow’s nest.

This is unlikely to be our only visit.

This evening, back in the 21st century, Jackie and I finished off the last of the Chinese takeaway meal.

He Doesn’t Have An Off Button

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This morning Sam and Holly took Orlaith to Southampton Hospital for a check on her broken arm. All was well and she had a smaller cast fitted to replace the larger, more restrictive one.

Malachi stayed with us and played Bookworm with Jackie. Perhaps all eight year old boys are constantly on the go, wrapping themselves around everything in sight. My grandson certainly is. The activity demonstrated here covered just a few minutes.

As I commented later, when, in Portsmouth, he was, like a happy little terrier, dashing backwards and forwards, covering, at speed, about four times the territory as the rest of of us, he doesn’t have an off button.

Sam, Holly, and Orlaith had travelled on to the Waterfront at Portsmouth where we met them, visited the Mary Rose exhibition, and dined at Wagamamma’s. I couldn’t possibly do justice to the museum visit within the time available this evening, so I will report on that tomorrow.

My meal was an excellent spicy seafood ramen. I drank a Japanese beer details of which I can’t remember.

Snaffled By A Swan

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Playing Bookworm with Malachi commenced at 6.30 a.m. today. Thus the morning was whiled away.

This afternoon Jackie drove me and the children to Hatchet Pond to feed the birds on prawn crackers.

We just had time to disembark from the car before the sky darkened, severe winds blew, and rain pelted down. This was the view we had of the lake through the windscreen.

The rain eased up a bit and the black-headed gulls fought against the gusts.

Soon the children could attempt to feed the gulls and the ducks. This was made somewhat difficult by the wind tossing their offerings this way and that.

Only the sharpest birds managed to catch a cracker.

Eventually the sun returned and a stately swan steered her cygnets sailing across the now smoother surface of the water.

She was set on joining her cob who had gone ahead at the sight of a gentleman who now felt it safe enough to brave the elements and feed them.

Father swan had his eye on a large slice of bread bobbing in the water.

Thrusting all competition aside he snaffled the bread, ready to distribute it among his offspring.

Returning via East End, we admired the completed work of New Forest Master Thatchers.

This evening we all dined on Mr Pink’s fish and chips, followed by vanilla ice cream. Holly and I drank Ring Bolt Margaret River cabernet sauvignon 2014, and Sam drank Guinness.

Nelson’s Column

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Sam and Holly, Malachi and Orlaith arrived today to spend a few days towards the end of their UK trip.

Malachi is a great reader, so his first visit was to the library from which I was happy to pass on to him a selection of books.

Lexulous is the Scrabble-like game I play on line. He wanted to challenge me, so he and Sam needed to work out how to load it onto Sam’s device.

First they operated together.

Mal continued on his own.

One of the advantages of having your opponent across the room is that you can give him the eye when you have him in trouble.

Orlaith broke her arm falling from a climbing frame in Snowdonia, and has become a dab hand at working with just one. Take drawing for example. As she said,0 it was a good thing she hadn’t broken her drawing hand.

She was also able to take over the Lexulous game on Sam’s mobile phone.

Meanwhile Malachi was quick to learn the Bookworm game on Jackie’s p.c.

After this Sam took his son off to the library to practice his violin playing. The music was really very pleasant, as it drifted through the kitchen.

This left Jackie free to help Orlaith build a tower

which, with the addition of the man himself in rodent form and black and white sheep as lions, she announced to be Nelson’s Column.

If there are any glaring errors in this post, my excuse is that the tower, the mice, the sheep, and the numbers board were all transported to my desk where I was encouraged to play with them.

This evening we dined on Hordle Chinese Take Away fare, supplemented by fish fingers, cauliflower cheese, and strawberries and cream. Holly and I finished the malbec, Jackie drank Peroni, and Sam drank Doom Bar.

Poppy Does Watering

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As we sat on the patio chairs with Aaron and his partner Leah, discussing the morning’s gardening, Poppy appeared in the kitchen doorway. Matthew soon followed, completing the pleasant surprise.

Granny was soon enjoying a cuddle.

Poppy pottered around playing with pebbles and a car given to her by Akram at Lal Quilla on her last visit there.

Displaying a rapid two-gun draw, she then began irrigating the paving

and washing an owl

Jackie employed a novel method of keeping the cans filled,

and Poppy trotted off to water the flowers in the Kitchen Bed.

For our dinner this evening, Matthew and Poppy joined Jackie in a trip to Mr Chatty Man Chan at Hordle Chinese Take Away, and returned with a scrumptious selection including our granddaughter’s favourite noodles.

She sampled most other items, including spare ribs.

The Herbaceous Borders

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Jackie continued her planting today. My major task was dead-heading.

This section of the Dragon Bed shows how what was a large, gangly ficus until Aaron removed it six days ago has been replaced by the Head Gardener’s selection.

The chimney pot in this shot of the view from the butler sinks at the end of the Dead End path

is one of the three in which Jackie has now completed this year’s arrangements.

The stone planters in the Kitchen Bed have received similar treatment, as have these two urns leading us to the original section of the Brick Path taking us from the south end to the house. This pair necessitated an urgent trip to Otter Nurseries late yesterday afternoon to buy a few more geraniums.

A yoked pair of hanging baskets introduces us to Margery’s Bed,

alongside which raking of the Phantom Path has commenced. The gorgeous pink rhododendron seen through the arch on the Cryptomeria Bed

is also visible from the brick section of the Oval Path, along which coils

the hose delivering sprinkled refreshment to the Weeping Birch Bed.

A white rambler and a purple clematis share the Gothic Arch;

The combination is similar on the Agriframes Arch, and we can name the rambler which, yet to bloom, is Wedding Day.

These Rozannes behind the iron urn are perhaps the most unusual of the blue geraniums.

Beside the potting shed at the corner of the Rose Garden sambucus nigra and geranium palmatums sit happily together.

Rose Absolutely Fabulous

occupying the foreground of this image is now beginning to bloom;

Just Joey and Love Knot are at the far end.

Lady Emma Hamilton

peeps round pink foxgloves at Absolutely Fabulous.

The aptly named Little Rambler scales one of the pergola posts.

I concentrated much of my dead-heading efforts on the Rose Garden, giving me ample opportunity to photograph hoverflies like these skimming For Your Eyes Only. For this purpose my camera hung round my neck as I snipped.

The beds alongside the Back Drive have demanded that they now be called the herbaceous borders.

They contain different varieties of poppy,

and Félicité Perpétue now wears a green and white shawl.

This evening we dined on pizza supplemented by a topping of bacon rashers; plentiful salad, and cold baked beans. I drank Cahors malbec 2015. Jacke had previously slaked her thirst with fizzy water, or, as she termed it, ‘eau petillante’.

The Rat Catcher

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This is the owl our offspring gave Jackie for her birthday.

Clearly this splendid sculpture needed a plinth on which to perch. Fortunately I had noticed one in the very dealership from which we had purchased yesterday’s troughs. So back we went to Molly’s Den and bought it.

Much more can be found in this emporium: chairs, table and settings;

recordings old and new;

figurines to every taste;

bears, of course;

boxes of possibly dubious provenance;

headscarfs on mannequins;

fairly optimistically priced peeling and faded fairground signs;

and bright copper artefacts, to select a few.

On our return home, a cluster of ponies gathered outside The Rising Sun at Wootton. Were they perhaps waiting for lunch to be served?

Rats continue to enter our garden from the empty and unkempt North Breeze next door. Perhaps that is the reason that Jackie wasted no time in allocating a place for the barn owl’s plinth beside the patio. I expect that benign looking predator appears rather different to a rodent.

Later, Jackie continued weeding and planting, while I fed this year’s compost pile and emptied the last of the matured one onto the Palm Bed.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s bountiful beef casserole served with abundant boiled potatoes. She drank Peroni while I finished the madiran.

The Crane

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This morning Shelly and Ron visited with more presents for Jackie. We sat talking on the patio before conducting the obligatory garden tour.

The poplar, of which I featured a close-up yesterday, made a pleasing back drop to our conversation.

Also yesterday I photographed Just Joey before he had come into his full splendour, which he had done today.

Quite nearby, Flower Power, finally released from the being the Big Beast’s convenience, is demonstrating its vigour for the first time.

Shelly bent to experience the full fragrance of stripy Rosa Gallica,

sharing it’s bed with the glowing Laura Ford;

and, later, looked aloft to admire the budding Wedding Day smothering the Agriframes Arch.

Finally, Jackie proudly showed her sister that the spindly little allium she had last year transplanted from beneath a prised-up brick in the path had, emulating Hans Christian Andersen’s Ugly Duckling, developed into a beautiful swan-necked crane.

After a routine tidying session, we took a trip to Molly’s Den. Jackie has hankered for a couple of stone window boxes with which to replace the plastic ones that sat on the stone wall at the front of the house, except when they were blown down. She suggested that would be what she would like for her birthday. We began at that antiques emporium.

These two stood immediately inside the doorway. Obviously we bought them.

But, really! Two stone troughs for a birthday present! That had only ever been subterfuge on my part. While the Head Gardener went looking to make sure they were no better ones among the many other displays, I searched for something that would be a bit more of a surprise.

This vast, hangar-like, warehouse is separated into cubicles and smaller display cabinets linked by gangways like this one.

There’s not much you can’t find here; retro and vintage clothing;

furniture and furnishings;

garden tools and kitchenalia;

baskets and kettles;

bridal accoutrements;

and a rocking chair.

Now, in situ, underneath the wisteria arbour, isn’t that a more suitable present?

Needless to say, it was essential that the window boxes be potted up post haste.

This evening we joined Becky and Ian at the Crown Inn at Everton for a birthday dinner. The food, the service, and the ambience were all excellent. I enjoyed well-filled steak and kidney pudding, crisp chips, and perfectly cooked fine slivers of broccoli and carrots wrapped in a tender cabbage leaf, followed by unbelievably light and moist bread and butter pudding in creme anglaise. I drank a pint of Doom Bar followed by a glass of Delcoeur vin de l;Herault. Should any of the other three feel inclined to report on their meal, I invite them to do so in a comment.

Jackie was given a joint present from Becky, Ian, Mat, and Tess, in the form of a quite magnificent owl. I will photograph this bird when it has been placed in the garden.