August 2017 – Page 3 – derrickjknight

Ancient And Modern

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We spent most of the day with Becky and Ian at Emsworth.

Following a wander about the town, we lunched at The Greenhouse Café, then walked down South Street to the harbour, returning to Becky and Ian’s flat in North Street.

Opposite the flat a new tattoo studio has recently opened. Its slogan perhaps reflects its targeted clientele. During the last decade or so this test of endurance has become all the rage.

edibleemsworth.co.uk describes M. R. Starr in the High Street as a high class butchers/fishmongers serving both the general public and local restaurants. The rear rider on this passing tandem seemed content with her apple. Note the bull woven into the bead curtain screening the front door.

Further along the street stands another butcher’s whose website tells us that ‘H. H. Treagust & Sons is a family run butchers that has been trading for 90 years. It was founded by Harry Hurst Treagust in 1924 and is now owned by Richard (Great-grandson). Richard together with son Benjamin, wife Suzanne , cousin Raymond Treagust and John Pugh continue to maintain Treagust’s reputation of providing top quality goods and service.

To mark this 90th year on the High Street, son Benjamin has expanded the range of sausages available – HARRY’S Posh Pork Sausages “Flavours For All Seasons.” So check out the blackboards for this weeks special!’

Becky is often used as a consultant for charitable organisations setting up events material on line. One of her useful messages is the advice not to mix fonts. Perhaps those responsible for the recently new image of Mungo Brooks Emporium could have used her services.

In this second picture Jackie has joined Ian and me in the reflections.

Those readers capable of deciphering mirror writing will know that the public library is situated in Nile Street.

A Victorian Chapel to St Peter,

a cinema, and a theatre are all previous incarnations of the excellent Greenhouse Café where we enjoyed our lunch. It will come as no surprise that my choice was the all day big breakfast.

Becky had asked a gentleman leading a rather large animal what it was. ‘It’s a dog’ he replied. This caused great hilarity. He wasn’t sure of the breed because it belonged to his sister. Becky identifies it as an American bulldog. A little later we observed it being stuffed in a boot.

We walked past The Coal Exchange pub on the way down South Street to the harbour.

The tiles outside provided a tasteful backdrop to the brightly coloured bell attached to the bicycle leaning against the wall.

At the bottom of the Flintstones Tea Rooms was doing very well;

a small sailing vessel was being laid to rest against the harbour wall.

We spent a short time in the Victorian St James’s church, with its splendid brass eagle lectern,

its typical stained glass of the period,

and its modern communion table.

Back at home this evening Jackie and I dined on pizza and salad.

The Great Escape

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With the return of the sunshine I carried out a little more tidying in the garden, especially dead-heading of roses, including

Absolutely Fabulous,

Crown Princess Margareta,

and a pink climber recovered by Elizabeth.

This wisteria occupied the Kitchen Bed when we arrived three years ago. Despite the Head Gardener’s best efforts it has never flowered.

The Chilean lantern bush, on the other hand, is once more producing blooms;

and new shoots are emerging on the pieris on the grass patch.

Although the agapanthuses took such a battering from the recent storms that they wound up in a vase indoors, some still line the Gazebo Path.

Little blue lobelias peep out from beneath rich red snapdragons and geraniums the Back Drive barrier,

while their taller relatives named Queen Victoria tower in the Oval Bed.

We have a number of ginger lilies.

The warmth of the sun brought out numerous insects. Hummingbird moths hovered among the pink phlox. I needed many unsuccessful attempts to acquire this less than wonderful image of a constantly flapping creature I think is new to our country.

Verbena bonarensis blooms attracted both stable, lightweight, Red Admirals

and bees that teetered somewhat.

Bees also plundered salvias,

bidens,

and geranium palmatums.

I could not identify some tiny creatures like this one on a cosmos,

or this one cleverly camouflaged by bronze fennel.

A fly was attracted by the ensemble of white sweet peas and gladioli.

Rudbeckia snaked from bed to bed in this picture for which I must apologise to the Head Gardener because I did not remove the fallen branch before making it.

This spider was in for a disappointment.

I could almost hear it licking its chops as it prepared its larder for the wasp that seemed ensnared by its web line.

The tiny spider perfected the trap as its larger prey frantically twisted, turned, and span in its efforts to escape being drawn in.

Eventually the prospective dinner hauled itself to safety, and sped off, leaving the hungry spider to creep into hiding and lurk in wait for another victim.

This evening Jackie produced an excellent dinner of chicken Kiev, savoury rice, tasty ratatouille, and crisp runner beans. She drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Bordeaux.

Leaves On The Water

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We just had time this morning to transport the contents of two orange bags of clippings to Efford Recycling Centre before steady rain descended for the rest of the day. After a trip to Sears barbers in Milford on Sea for Peter to cut my hair, I scanned the next dozen colour slides from November 2004. One image wasn’t really good enough, so I deleted it.

Mepham Street SE1 stands beneath the main entrance of Waterloo Station. The BFI IMAX cinema that towers above the railway is described thus by Wikipedia:

The BFI IMAX is an IMAX cinema in the South Bank district of London, just north of Waterloo station. It is owned by the British Film Institute and since July 2012 has been operated by Odeon Cinemas.^[1]

The cinema is located in the centre of a roundabout junction with Waterloo Road to the south-east, Stamford Street to the north-east, York Road to the south-west and Waterloo Bridge to the north-west.

The BFI IMAX was designed by Bryan Avery of Avery Associates Architects^[2] and completed in May 1999. The screen is the largest in Britain (20m high and 26m wide). It has a seating capacity of just under 500 and a 12,000 Watt digital surround sound system. Although the site is surrounded by traffic and has an underground line just four metres below, the architects and engineers accounted for this in their design and the entire upper structure sits on anti vibration bearings to prevent noise propagation.

The cinema won several awards at the time of opening, including a Design Council Millennium Product Award^[3] in 1999 and a Civic Trust Award in 2000.^[4]

In 2012, the screen was replaced and a digital IMAX projector was installed alongside the existing 70mm projector. In July 2012, the BFI announced that Odeon Cinemas had been selected to operate it for the next five years, with the option of termination after three years. Odeon will maintain the film programmes, and booking of tickets online and per telephone. This also gives customers the opportunity to watch Operas on the giant screen. The BFI will retain a great deal of power over the cinema’s operation however, including parts of the film schedule and the technical operation.^[5] The name will remain the same.

To start this move to mainstream cinema, the BFI London IMAX theatre celebrated by having sold 66,000 pre-booked tickets for The Dark Knight Rises in just 5 weeks, giving a total sale in tickets of £1,000,000 even before the premiere of the movie.’

Perhaps it is a little early to discover whether the five year contract has been renewed.

The Waterloo Station entrance is viewed here from Boyce Street SE1. In the early 20th century, the station was completely redesigned and rebuilt, reopening in 1922. The Victory Arch over the entrance commemorates World War I.

The redevelopment of Kings Cross, St Pancras, and their environs was under way in 2004, as shown in this picture of Midland Road NW1. Maybe the man in the hard hat has left the heavily craned background for a lunch break.

On the other side of Euston Road, at number 130, on the corner of Mabledon Place, stands the headquarters of the Public Service Union, the second largest in UK.

I often walked across Kingsway WC2 on my way to my consultancy work at Portugal Prints,

the entrance to which is shown here on the corner of St Clement’s Lane.

My route took me past Ship Tavern at the corner of Gate Street and Little Turnstile WC1. londonremembers.com tells us that ‘this tavern was established in the year 1549. During the proscription of the Roman Catholic religion it was used as a shelter for priests and services were held here secretly. The neighbourhood was once notorious for the gambling houses of Whetstone Park. Famous visitors have been Richard Penderell, who aided King Charles’s escape, Bayford, shoemaker and antiquarian. The woman Chevalier d’Eon, who lived as a man, and Smeaton the builder of the first Eddystone Lighthouse. It was a centre of Freemasonry and a Lodge with the number 234 was consecrated here by the Grand Master the Earl of Antrim in 1786.’ The hostelry was rebuilt in 1923.

When I photographed Whetstone Park a traffic warden was no doubt relishing writing out this parking ticket. Maybe someone got the wrong idea from the name of the street.

That little area led me to Lincoln’s Inn Fields and to the above-mentioned Portugal Prints.

The Dickens Tavern, on the corner of London Street and London Mews WC2, boasts of being London’s longest pub. It certainly goes on forever, possibly the whole length of the mews. It is, of course, not very wide.

I must have ventured onto the towpath of the Regent’s canal when taking one of these walks, because another photograph of leaves on the water has crept into this set.

This evening we dined on Mr Pink’s fish and chips, Garner’s pickled onions, and Tesco’s wallies, followed by strawberries and ice cream.

Tree House Construction Manual

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The weather in Newark in June 1992 was drier than it is at the moment. Today I therefore scanned a batch of colour negatives produced during that month.

The erection of a rather splendid tree house in a false acacia tree in the garden of Lindum House had begun before I began to record it. Sam and Louisa had enlisted the help of brothers Gavin and Ian to begin the project.

Louisa was a willing hod carrier, bearing planks for the flooring;

further invention was employed for hauling up greater quantities. You may be forgiven for imagining that William Heath Robinson exerted some influence on this ingenuity. One rope was extended from this tree to another on the other side of the lawn. Attached to this was another bearing a faggot of heavy planks hauled across by Sam, in the bottom left of the picture. Gavin, up aloft awaited its arrival. This took me back to Kennards department store in Wimbledon which had a similar system for conveying cash from counter to office. As will be seen from this photograph you cannot keep a lawn while children are young and you have to accommodate a swing and goalposts.

Gavin and Ian began the task of heaving the floorboards up to the required level.

Sam was soon up there to add his muscle;

eventually the materials reached the required level.

The next storey was soon in place.

The roof bore the combined weight of Sam and James Bird.

Louisa then joined in the test.

Up to seven or eight children would sleep overnight in this three storey house.

A sequel to the story of this adventure is told in ‘The Tree House’.

This evening we dined on minted lamb steaks; roasted sweet potato, peppers and mushrooms; new potatoes, carrots, broccoli and greens. Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank a 2015 Bordeaux.

Play Of Light

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Willows garden on Pilley Hill is situated on a steep but manageable incline. The house is perched in the middle of the plot with the effect that the rear beds are on the highest level and the land descends to the lily pond at the bottom.

We visited this colourful exuberance yesterday afternoon. In 2003, the current owners, Elizabeth and Martin Walker, bought a small bungalow with a natural ditch where the

pond is now situated. The current house was built in 2005.

Unusual varieties of hydrangea are one feature.

The herbaceous borders, on a grand scale,

attract bees

and visitors alike.

Some of the dahlias are really quite strident.

There are huge thistles

and swirling ferns.

Plentiful seating was arranged. You could even sit under a parasol and employ your mobile devices;

you could sit side by side across the pond and watch the other visitors,

perhaps walking over one of the bridges,

passing a pair of hidden herons;

or you could sit quietly enjoying your cream teas, provided you were able to ignore the silent pleading of the resident Labrador.

The women washing up and giving out refreshments were not permitted to handle money, so you had to move across the room to pay the keeper of the coffers. This prompted me to recount the story of ‘A Retirement Project’.

Some of the plants would have graced a much hotter environment. A clump of bamboo soared to the skies,

and a banana tree,

as we departed, proffered the light a leafy playground.

The final surprise was the balloon tree.

This evening we dined at Lal Quilla where my main course was king prawn naga and Jackie’s was chicken hariali. We shared special fried rice, a paratha, and an onion bahji; both drank Kingfisher.

Compassion Recovered

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Apart from the collapse of the Compassion rose arch, the recent storms have treated us with respect.

The clematis and solanum have remained attached to the dead tree.

Orange crocosmia still stands at the potting shed entrance to the Rose Garden,

while yellow and orange thrive harmoniously in the Dragon Bed.

Clematis Duchess of Albany drapes herself over the arbour in the Rose Garden

Where Penny Lane parades her maturity;

and others such as For Your Eyes Only

and Festive Jewel are reliving their youth.

Fuchsia Delta’s Sarah spreads along the side of the triangular bed now beside the greenhouse.

Light pink Japanese anemones reach the lower branches of the red maple;

darker pink ones are quite prolific,

while white ones enliven the

West Bed with its New Zealand hebe, its leicesteria,

and its dahlias.

Close by we have fuchsia Mrs Popple.

One clematis climbing the gazebo blends well with geraniums in a hanging basket;

another basket contains deep blue lobelia and an orange begonia.

Purple petunias and more lobelias populate the Back Drive barrier tubs.

The gaura in the Weeping Birch Bed is thriving.

The views across the Kitchen Bed;

from beside the weeping birch,

and along the Shady Bed from the Dragon Bed corner remain colourful.

Bees, like this one in a geranium palmatum continue working hard;

flies, such as this one crawling over Priscilla, are in abundance.

Yellow rudbeckia are at their best. Here are some in Margery’s Bed.

This morning was spent generally tidying up, one of Aaron’s tasks being to refurbish the fallen arch.

He then,

assisted by Jackie,

recovered the Compassion rose and tied it back in place.

This afternoon we visited Willows garden at Pilley. On the grounds that we couldn’t stand the competition, I will report on that tomorrow.

This evening we dined on fish pie, ratatouille, carrots and broccoli, with which we both drank Bergerac blanc sec 2016.

The Action Came To Me

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Jackie and I left Hurst Castle yesterday as we entered, crossing the bridge over the moat. What was once a deep defensive dug-out water-filled trench, now just collects a little precipitation when it rains.

We joined the crowds waiting for the ferry.

The small fleet of pleasure boats plied their way between Keyhaven and the castle. Even as one hove into view there was little movement among the visitors. Each boat only catered for twelve people, so those who were able might as well lounge around on the grass

until this arrival

had decanted its load and taken on fresh supplies.

We gained a place on the next one and were soon back at Keyhaven.

On board the ferry Jackie had learned the story of the wrecked boat that I have featured in several previous posts. It is seen here with a severe list. The owner of the vessel has apparently died. Before his demise he had sold the mooring to someone at Mudeford. The purchaser has done nothing with it.

This afternoon we drove to Lepe to meet Elizabeth, Danni, and Andy. My sister is embarking on a documentary photographic series on ‘coast’ for her camera club. I had suggested Lepe.

On a wide junction with the Exbury Road outside Beaulieu, a young pony seemed confused. It stood in the centre, not knowing which way to turn, until Jackie stopped for it.

It had been agreed that we would make our ways to the car park and find each other. A friendly gull guided us to what seemed to be the only available space. Jackie waited in the car.

As I walked along the shingle there was much activity down by the shore at this low tide. Groups gathered in the shallows and yachts were much in evidence.

A louring sky did, however, send some off to the café.

Kite surfers were undeterred.

My extended family members, Andy, Danni, and Elizabeth, were to be found on the shingle at the far end of the car park.

I had decided that, in walking back to inform Jackie, I would amble down to the shore, where the action was. A gull’s presence against the cloud curtain suggested rain was not far away.

Indeed, it wasn’t, so, swathed in towels, the action came to me;

some pausing to inspect the shallows.

Along with the entire population of the beach, we entered the café, fought for chairs, and drank our choice of hot or cold liquids.

When the sun returned we walked down to the crumbling cliffs for Elizabeth to conduct her recce. There a couple of groups dug for lug worms to use as fishing bait,

while others walked along the exposed sand spit.

Kite surfers has continued undisturbed.

A skein of geese flapped silently by above the scene.

The darkening sky had shifted enough for a pair of passing yachts to catch the sunlight.

Soon it was time to pack up the surf kites

and carry them to the transport.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s splendid sausage casserole, boiled potatoes, carrots, and cauliflower with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Bardalino.

Every Night Something Atrocious

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This morning we set off to spend the best part of the day on a trip to Hurst Castle.

We began with a drive to Keyhaven to park the car and take a ferry to the castle, perched as it is on a spit in the middle of The Solent.

A youthful group were preparing for a sailing trip in the harbour.

Our small boat could take twelve people with weight evenly distributed on each side. I caused some amusement when I asked one small boy how much he weighed. There was keen competition to sit in the front.

A yacht sped past us on our way over.

We disembarked after our short trip,

and were soon confronting the castle walls

along which a couple of children ran freely.

A delivery of Calor Gas was in progress.

Maybe it was destined for the lighthouse.

We walked past this to the shingle bank

that is the nearest viewpoint to the Isle of Wight and The Needles.

Here a Wing battery forming coastal defence from late Victorian times flanks the Solent, and a gull takes a rest.

The 38 ton guns that fired from here are capable of firing a 12 1/2 inch shell, weighing 820 lbs, nearly 3 1/2 miles.They became part of the castle’s secondary armament and were kept permanently loaded.

Hurst Castle was built between 1541 and 1544 as one of a chain of artillery defences protecting key ports and landing places round southern England from Continental attack. It was sited to guard the Needles Passage, the narrow western entrance to the Solent, and gateway to the trading port of Southampton and the new naval base at Portsmouth.

The castle soon developed into powerful fortress. On occasion it was also used as a prison. King Charles 1 was briefly held captive there during the Civil War.

Having begun our tour in the Victorian section, we turned back and walked through the gateway to the Tudor original building.

The stone steps leading up to the first floor were reasonably manageable.

We wandered around the large circular room with its stone floors, mixed material walls,

and reinforced windows.

A young sailor had been left behind by his ship.

Ascending the outside wall was a further set of steps that were much more daunting;

through a door at the top of this flight, a spiral staircase became ever steeper.

Having reached the highest level a notice advised us to lower our heads. This involved almost crawling through the doorway. Young Toby, probably the only person up there who could stand upright, was delighted to provide my photograph with a sense of scale. He was rather chuffed to learn that his photograph would go round the world this evening.

From this viewpoint Jackie notice a peculiar meeting of currents in The Solent;

and we were able to look down on the West Wing, where we then enjoyed a wholesome lunch in the café.

Of the many other exhibitions and displays of information, were a number on the lighthouse;

a Bofors 40mm gun, designed in the 1930s, which was still in service in 2013, making it one of the longest serving artillery pieces of all time.

We were fascinated by the Garrison Theatre which is possibly the last such establishment to survive from the Second World War.

ENSA, or the Entertainments National Service Association, was known to the squaddies as Every Night Something Atrocious.

Apart from signing off in my usual manner, I have to leave the trip there, and report on the return home tomorrow.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s splendid penne pasta arrabbiata with which she drank Hoegaarden Anno 1445, and I drank Giulio Pasotti Bardolino Classico 2016.

Her First Baby Donkey

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Although the rain has stopped, we are still enduring gale force winds. This involved us picking up branches and various other bits of debris.

Elizabeth came for the afternoon. After lunch Jackie drove us all to Hockey’s Farm at Ibsley, where the ladies enjoyed cream teas and I drank sparkling water.

At the farm, larger than average donkeys shared a field with the alpacas.

Part of the complex is an attractive thatched house,

by the side of which lie a pair of antique ploughshares.

Seated at one of the tables whilst her companion visited the café, a woman engaged in conversation with her dog.

The back door of the café looked out onto the scene.

Elizabeth photographed me at our table. Later we cropped it to produce an up-to-date WP profile picture.

A Milky Way of mushrooms outside Hyde

prompted Elizabeth later to photograph a puffball growing in the gravel of our Shady Path.

At Frogham, my sister was delighted to encounter her ‘first baby donkey’,

seen blackberrying with its mother.

Something was making the foal itch. Elizabeth created this image.

Back home we dined on Jackie’s perfect pasta arrabbiata with sugar snaps. Elizabeth and I finished the malbec, whilst Jackie drank Hoegaarden.

Afterwards, Elizabeth and I examined our photographs.

P.S. See Paol’s comment below for correct information on the old ploughs

Streets Of London With Diversions

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Torrential rain and gale-force winds were again the order of the day. Soon after noon, the French windows onto the patio

and the view from the kitchen were like this.

Naturally I took a trip back to my photographic archives from October 2004. The colour slides were primarily the next batch of the Streets of London series.

The 2011 census informs us that there are 175 purpose built flats in Culworth Street NW8 which runs into Prince Albert Road and is therefore a stone’s throw from Regent’s Park. A fair number of them must be in this block.

Lodge Road NW8 lies parallel to St John’s Wood Road which houses Lord’s Cricket ground, the world famous test venue and headquarters of Middlesex County Cricket Club. Across the Lord’s roundabout, stands St John’s Wood Church, of which Wikipedia tells us

‘St John’s Wood Church started life as a chapel of ease to St Marylebone Parish Church, and was constructed in 1814 by Thomas Hardwick, who was simultaneously constructing the current St Marylebone Church.^[2] Although the church originally had extensive burial grounds, these were closed in 1855 and opened as a public garden, St. John’s Wood Church Grounds, in 1886.^[3] In 1898 the building became a chapel of ease to Christ Church on Cosway Street, and increasingly became the centre of administration for the parish.^[4]

After bomb damage during the Second World War rendered St Stephen’s, Avenue Road unusable, St John’s Wood Church became a parish church in its own right in 1952.^[5] As well as holding regular services for the community, the church has hosted the wedding of Peggy Cripps to Joe Appiah in June 1953,^[6] the blessing of the marriage of Paul and Linda McCartney in 1969,^[7] and the funeral of Ursula Vaughan Williams in 2007.^[8]

A Church Hall complex was constructed in the 1970s, the completion of which was marked with the erection of a statue of the church’s patron, John the Baptist, by Hans Feibusch.^[9] Restoration of the church interior took place in 1991 under the supervision of Michael Reardon, when the chancel pavement was relaid in limestone and the present central altar replaced the high altar at the east end of the church.^‘

Canon Reverend Francis Holland, an Anglican clergyman, who was keen to advance and extend the provision of single-sex education for girls established his eponymous Trust in 1881. The Francis Holland school in Ivor Place NW1 is one of two managed by the trust. Ivor Place runs from Park Road to

Boston Place NW1, lying alongside the platforms of Marylebone Station.

From St John’s Wood and Marylebone I walked on to Camden Town through Greenland Road

and Georgiana Street NW1.

These family groups were, on this day, the first of my diversions from the theme of including street names in the images. The bench offers a view of the Little Venice canal basin, on the other side of which stand the erstwhile Council blocks of Warwick Crescent which were largely sold off to tenants in the ’80s and ’90s, and on further to others during the next decades.

Narrow boats travelling along the canal surface at a maximum speed of four miles an hour glide past the park. I forget the name of the man who lovingly tended these gardens for 25 years. Upon his retirement he was replaced by sessional, irregular, maintenance staff seconded from other Council gardens.

The other diversion that attracted my camera lens was a double rainbow over the Paddington Basin development. The wrapping on the buildings in progress reflected the colours of the meteorological phenomenon.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s sumptuous sausage casserole, crunchy carrots, crisp cauliflower, and boiled potatoes. The Culinary Queen drank Hoegaarden, and I drank Parra Alta malbec 2016.