November 2017 – Page 3 – derrickjknight

A Passage Between Ponies

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This morning Jackie drove me to Milford on Sea to have wax removed from my ears at The Private Ear Clinic situated in the NHS hospital. There is a memorial board honouring those residents of the village who had lost their lives in the First World War on the wall of the waiting room which was obviously once an entrance hall. Looking at this I wondered what those people would think if they could see the situation today.

The main problem ear was a little obdurate. The nurse decided to stop the process when she found the last of the content “a little crispy”, and to have another go next week. This will be in the clinic at Lymington hospital. Anyway, my hearing is fine.

Elizabeth came for lunch, after which she went off to see a client in New Milton; Jackie and I drove into the forest; and we all linked up at Redcliffe Garden Centre for refreshments, after which we returned to Downton.

Not far outside Holmsley, cattle

and ponies

blended with

the autumn-tinged

landscape.

One of these creatures buried its head in the bracken

in order to tear at the brambles,

coming away with delicate hair ornaments.

Crossing the cattle grid, we turned down

Holmsley Passage.

Jackie parked the car, leaving me to wander down the lane

photographing

the sunlit

forest scenes.

This view contains two different

varieties of holly.

Oak leaves are generally the last to fall.

Others stubbornly cling to branches,

even when they are as browned as the bracken on the verges.

On Wootton Common, now becoming waterlogged in parts, the grey ponies

stood out against the landscape

as they cropped the moorland grass.

This evening the three of us dined at The Raj in Old Milton. The food and service were both very good. We each enjoyed prawn puri starters. My main meal was lamb jalfrezi. We shared pilau and special rice and a paratha. Elizabeth and I drank Cobra whilst Jackie’s choice was the slightly smoother Kingfisher.

What Do Runners Need?

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This morning I added some more content to ‘A Knight’s Tale’. This was mostly new material. To give an idea of the point I have reached in my autobiography, there follows a sample of it. ‘Although I was to make up for it later, I was rather late in waking up to girls. When I was about fifteen, and working in my school holidays in the Despatch Department of Cawdell’s, formerly Kennard’s, store in Wimbledon Broadway, Dad cajoled me into my first foray into the unknown.

The Despatch Department, at the back of the building, was where suppliers made their deliveries. We would then carry the goods up to the various departments. Dad drove a van that took parcels out to buyers.

That summer, a young lady whose name I have conveniently forgotten, made frequent visits to my workplace from the perfume counter. “You know what she wants, don’t you?”, asked my father. “No”, said I, somewhat bemused. “She wants you to take her out”, was the frightening reply.

Plucking up courage, I made a date. On the appointed day I waited outside Wimbledon Town Hall for an hour. She didn’t turn up. I felt both chastened and relieved.

Her story the next day was that her grandmother was ill. I didn’t really buy that, and didn’t repeat the exercise.’

A small section from ‘No-one Forgets A Good Teacher’ has also been included.

On a dull afternoon I scanned the next dozen colour slides from my Streets of London Series. These were all produced in May 2005, and feature part of a regular walk from my Little Venice counselling room to Parents for Children in Islington where I conducted some consultancy.

Although their telephone number has changed, I think the van disappearing along Lyons Place NW8 is from the London Borough of Camden’s Home Library Service. Details from camden.gov.uk are

‘If you, or someone you know, can’t get out and about, you may be eligible for a home library service delivered direct to your door.

Who is eligible?

The home library service is for Camden residents who are confined to their home due to:

a disability
limited mobility
mental health issues
illness including need of short term help (e.g. following an operation or accident
isolated, frail or vulnerable
no-one available to visit the library for you

What is offered?

After a request, a member of the home library service staff will arrange to visit you at home to assess whether you are eligible.

The service includes:

a regular visit to your home, every four weeks
our staff will ask you what kind of reading, music and films you like and then
suggest and bring suitable material.
you can request specific titles
an information service is available
there is no charge’

You would need close on £2,000,000 to buy a mews house in either Northwick Close

or Hamilton Close in St John’s Wood.

Prince Albert Road NW1 runs along the north side of Regents Park.

At the eastern end is found Park Village East,

and Delancey Street, at right angles to which is Parkway.

No. 55 is the Hog’s Head pub at the corner of Albert Street, NW1.

Across the road, the juxtaposition of two signs

amused me more than somewhat.

I can’t tell you anything about the hair stylist, but the Runners Need website tells us

‘In the heart of Camden, we opened our first Runners Need store over 30 years ago. Quickly becoming a fixture in the local community, the small team of passionate, enthusiastic, and expert runners are quick to offer help and advice whatever your level.’ They now have 27 outlets in the UK and Ireland.

The far end of Parkway forms a junction with Arlington Road, where the Rat and Parrot pub is now

a Masala Zone restaurant. There are more photographs on Google, but I was unable to download them. Information on the upmarket chain can be found on http://www.masalazone.com/locations/camden/

Happily, the Prince Albert in Lyme Street NW1 continues to thrive. london town.com has this to say about it: ‘A decent gastropub that retains enough of the ‘pub’ aspect to ensure a relaxed, comfortable atmosphere. Leather sofas are well worn, despite a recent change of ownership in 2007. Food in the dining room upstairs is top quality and surprisingly reasonable with lighter options in the bar downstairs. The main man in the kitchen is David Gill has worked with Marco Pierre White at the Michelin-starred Canteen in Chelsea harbour and for Terrence Conran at the Butlers Wharf Chophouse. Ingredients include non-farmed, sustainably sourced fish, meat sourced only from British farms and producers and cheese from La Fromagerie. Just what a good gastro pub should be; many others could take a lesson from The Prince Albert.

Whatever your views on The Prince Albert’s foray into what its detractors say is overly complicated gastropub cooking, there can be no denying that the delightful adjoining beer garden, although small, is one of North London’s most appealing – and just about secures the historic Camden establishment’s ‘pub’ status. In fact, it’s best to see the upstairs restaurant and the ground level’s Boho-style drinking den as two entirely distinct ventures. Separated from the pavement by an iron fence and a sparse bush, the decked outside area is a favourite with the local cool Camdenite crowd, who come in their swathes, skinny jeans and all, to drink Bulmers and smoke rollies.’

My journey back took me past Sheldon Square W2, and its sculptures, one of which, striding into the picture on the right, is destined to walk in short shirt sleeves, whatever the weather.

This evening we dined on a fine array of Hordle Chinese Take Away fare with which Jackie drank sparkling water and I drank Mendoza Parra Alta malbec 2016.

Survivors

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My very good blogging friend G.P. Cox had a good laugh yesterday at my statement that ‘surely nothing could go wrong’, concerning my dental teeth cleaning appointment today. Well, GP, I do hope you are ready for another. I received a telephone call at lunchtime today cancelling the visit because the hygienist is ill. I guess I’ll just have to carry on doing it myself.

In complete contrast to yesterday, we enjoyed fine weather today.

Jackie continued taking tender plants and cuttings into protective custody in the greenhouse.

I tidied up a bit and photographed more survivors of the recent light frost.

Some, like this pansy, bore blisters of precipitation.

I am not sure which

of our many

fuchsias

is hardy

but at the moment they all seem to be.

Heucheras continue to flower,

as do clematises such as Polish Spirit.

Even The Duchess of Albany, long past her best, is capable of creating excitement.

Roses like Compassion,

Penny Lane,

Little Rambler,

and the ever ebullient Alan Titchmarsh remain in full bloom;

we have thick piles of carpet roses.

Pelargoniums glow with colour.

Some may be seen in the stone urns at the end of the brick path where solanum swathes the dead tree;

and more in the stone urns in the Rose Garden.

The red maple at one end of

the Shady Path will recover from its wind burns.

Here is a view from the end nearest the house.

Outside the utility room are just a few of the ubiquitous verbena bonarensis paying homage to the regal red climber on the wisteria arbour.

reds, pinks, and greens predominate in the Kitchen Bed.

This evening we dined on Mr Pink’s fish and chips, pickled onions, and gherkins. I finished the toro, which was a bit strong for fish and chips, but never mind.

Nothing Can Possibly Go Wrong

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Sections of my head need tweaking I attempted to manage two of them this morning. Neither was particularly straightforward.

A certain amount of nasal congestion appears to have blocked my left ear. I had made a non-urgent appointment with my GP for this morning. She informed me that both ears need syringing to remove a surfeit of wax On two occasions in the past this has been done free of charge in my GP surgeries. There is no longer funding for this, so I have two choices. I can have a referral to an NHS hospital where there would be a long wait, or I can pay £30 per ear to a private clinic. Thanking my lucky stars that I can afford it, I opted for the private route.

Given the demography of this area, there are a number of Hearing Centres in New MIlton. It would be a simple matter to select one.

While I was at the practice surgery I enquired about the referral letter for the necessary cataract adjustment that was to come from Boots Opticians. This had not been received. Jackie drove me to the optometrist where I was given a duplicate to take back to Milford on Sea. The gentleman kindly put it into an envelope for me.

Although Boots does apparently also deal with ears, it seemed sensible to visit the Hearing Centre directly opposite. After all, they don’t get distracted by eyes.

They don’t do wax removal. Neither does anyone else in the town. I was given a card for The Private Ear Clinic which has bases in Hythe and in Milford on Sea.

Back in the car, I had a look at the optometrist’s referral letter. It had been sent to the wrong freaking surgery.

Back out of the car, I returned to Boots where the eye man owned up to his mistake. I said something to the effect that we all make mistakes and I’d settle for calling him a berk. He altered the address. Jackie was going back to Milford to meet her sisters, so she took the form to deliver to the GP.

Back home I phoned the ear clinic, opted for the Milford venue, and made an appointment.

Where is the clinic?

It is in the hospital alongside the GP surgery. You go in the same door and turn left to enter the main building. One more example of private medicine being carried out in NHS property. I suppose our ailing public body needs the rent, otherwise they may have to sell the building for a housing development that no local people have the means to live in.

Tomorrow I have a quarterly teeth clean arranged. The rest of the time I do it myself. This is also a private arrangement, because even NHS treatment is now costly, and you can’t pick your time. Surely nothing can possibly go wrong.

We did have a light frost a couple of nights ago, but most of the garden has remained unscathed.

After lunch I set about photographing some of the survivors. Did I mention that I became rather damp getting in and out of the car? That is because, although the temperature was much milder, it rained all day. Not to be deterred I started in the front garden, but didn’t get very far.

On the trellis we still have solanum,

pink roses,

and pelargoniums in hanging baskets;

as for Mrs N. Thompson, what is she doing up at this time?

Nasturtiums still have strength to scale the front of the garage door

against which lighter pink pelargoniums flirt with another solanum.

Self-seeded bidens venture towards the pavement outside, beneath continually cascading petunias.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s lemon chicken, roast potatoes, cauliflower, and sautéed onions and leeks. I drank Tulga Toro 2013

A Menacing Hoodie

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This morning I made a birthday card for Orlaith, using this photograph taken by Holly a few days after her daughter’s birth.

Jackie drove me to New Milton to post it this afternoon, and on afterwards for a forest trip via Holmsley Passage.

Beside the passage this pony

caught my attention

as it appeared

to be scratching

the bracken. Actually it was stamping it down so it could get at the grass. Too much bracken is harmful to horses.

Birch trees

stood out on the moorland,

and holly berries brightened the woodland opposite.

As we continued along the road,

we noticed a strange tree in the distance.

This was the Burley mobile telephone mast in disguise.

At the end of the Passage, according to this milestone just one mile from Burley,

we turned off right along a cul -de-sac on which we discovered a pool

reflecting

the surrounding trees.

Fungi sprang from fallen logs;

a dead branch dangled.

An enclosure beyond the far side looked rather like a Drift pen.

The road led to the enticing woodland

and undulating landscape of Clay Hill.

The mist rising above Bashley on our return had a distinct aroma of woodsmoke.

We diverted to Keyhaven where the clouds looming overhead

were reflected in the waterlogged tarmac,

and a menacing hoodie lurked on Hurst Spit.

This evening we dined at Mansoori Heights, a recently opened Indian restaurant in Milford on Sea. It was very good. Jackie’s main meal was paneer shashlick; mine was prawn vindaloo; we shared a starter platter, egg rice, and a methi paratha, and both drank Kingfisher.

Maybe There’ll Be Frost

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Although the meteorologists keep changing their minds about it, we have a frost warning for tonight. We therefore began the task of bringing some of the more tender potted plants into

a makeshift cold frame

and the greenhouse.

Sun still streaked across the Gazebo Path;

across the Shady Path;

across the Dead End Path;

and down the Brick Path.

Some geraniums and other similarly vulnerable plants like these in the Cryptomeria Bed,

or these petunias, had to be left to the elements,

but this pot of pelargonium Quercifolia that has taken two years to reach splendid maturity, just had to be placed in the greenhouse.

Meanwhile roses such as Compassion, seen rising above the Dead End Path in one of the earlier pictures;

Lady Emma Hamilton;

and Absolutely Fabulous, will fight their own corners.

An hour before sunset, the skies over Downton presaged splendid views later,

when off we sped to Barton on Sea where

we were not disappointed.

Others had the same idea;

especially those

photographing

the ever-changing

scene.

Frozen vapour in the cross-hatched clouds suggests that maybe we will have frost.

While walkers aimed for the sunset,

the Isle of Wight and The Needles were satisfied with the lighthouse beacon (enlargement will be necessary to see this).

This evening we dined on Jackie’s excellent sausage casserole, roast potatoes, and cauliflower. We did not imbibe.

An English Country House

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Yesterday I featured a porcelain restoration class held at Fulbeck Hall.

http://www.visitoruk.com/Grantham/fulbeck-hall-C567-AT215.html tells us that

‘Fulbeck Hall is a fine country house dating from the early 17th-century, but largely rebuilt in 1733 by Francis Fane whose family had lived there since 1632.

The house, now a Grade II* listed building, was completely refurbished following World War II, by Henry and Dorothy Fane, having been left in a desperate state of repair by the army who had requisitioned it during the conflict.

The house, with 11 acres of formal gardens, has beeen restored back to its former glory and is now a private residence. It is not open to the public.

Visitors to the nearby Church of St. Nicholas will see monuments to the Fane family, residents of Fulbeck Hall for nearly 400 years.’

A more detailed history is provided by Wikipedia. From the following extracts I have deleted those sections in need of reference citations.

‘The hall was purchased, in 1622, by Francis Fane, 1st Earl of Westmorland, 8th Baron le Despenser and de jure 8th and 6th Baron Bergavenny, of Apethorpe Hall, Northamtonshire, from Sir George Manners, who remained in residence until he became the 7th Earl of Rutland in 1632.^[11] The hall then went to the Earl of Westmorland‘s son, Sir Francis Fane,^[11] a courtier, Royalist and commander of the King’s forces at Doncaster and Lincoln.

Under the Commonwealth, the estate was confiscated, however, Sir Francis Fane was allowed to buy it back, and before the Restoration of Charles II in 1660, he and his wife Elizabeth Darcy, daughter of Sir Edward Darcy MP, grandson of the executed traitor Thomas Darcy, 1st Baron Darcy de Darcy, occupied much of their time in rebuilding the Hall in Restoration style. It was burned down 30 December 1731,^[11] and was rebuilt 1732-1733. His son, also Sir Francis, married Hannah Rushworth daughter of John Rushworth MP and private secretary to Oliver Cromwell .

In 1767 Fulbeck Hall was left to Henry Fane of Brympton owner of Brympton d’Evercy who was a grandson of Sir Francis Fane, the second of Fulbeck and Hannah Rushworth. Henry Fane of Brymton made a fortune as a successful Bristol privateer and he left his Wormesley estates in Oxfordshire to his younger son Henry and his estates in Somerset, Dorset, and Lincolnshire were left to his eldest son Thomas Fane, 8th Earl of Westmorland Thomas, 8th earl inherited the estates of his father and his cousin the 7th Earl making him one of the richest landowners in England. He left Fulbeck Hall to his younger son the Hon Henry Fane MP in 1783. (This man) followed a long list of Fanes as Members of Parliament for Lyme Regis the famil[y’]s pocket borough inherited from an uncle, John Scrope MP, Secretary to the Treasury and grandson of the executed regicide Colonel Adrian Scrope. The constituency at times provided the Fanes with two members of parliament at the same time and between 1753 and 1832 twelve separate members of the family represented Lyme Regis in the Tory interest. Throughout this period the Fane family also represented Constituencies in Somerset, Lincolnshire, Kent, Hampshire, Northamptonshire and Oxfordshire. In 1777 Henry Fane married Anne Buckley Batson, heiress of the Avon Tyrrell estate in Hampshire, by whom he had 14 children.

During the 19th century the house was home to General Sir Henry Fane MP for Lyme Regis who was Commander-in-Chief, India as well as his brother General Mildmay Fane. Sir Henry bequeathed a life interest in the estate to his eldest son Col. Henry Fane(d.1836).^[12] His nephew General Walter Fane who raised Fane’s Horse a regiment of volunteers to fight in China during the Second Opium War succeeded him at Fulbeck Hall. This regiment still exists as part of Pakistan’s armed forces. General Walter Fane is not to be confused with his brother Colonel Francis Fane of Fulbeck Manor, who raised the Peshawar Light Horse in 1857 as an irregular cavalry unit to fight against the mutineers during the Indian Mutiny. This regiment was disbanded in 1903.

During the Second World War 1939-1945 the house was requisitioned by the British Armed Forces and it was the location of the 1st Airborne Division before they left the United Kingdom for the Battle of Arnhem.

Many of the contents of Fulbeck Hall were sold by Sotheby’s in October 2002.’

Soon after the porcelain restoration event, in February 1993, I returned to make photographs to feature in a brochure for Mary Fry, the then owner. Today I scanned a selection of the prints.

Here Mary stands at her open door

leading to the entrance hall,

off which is found the reception room.

A sundial can be seen standing before the main door in the initial picture. The avenue drive leads the eye from this to the gates.

The elegant drawing room is beautifully furnished with fine furniture, ornaments, paintings,

and a grand piano.

Here is one corner of the room.

My accompanying text is written in the present tense, as in 1993, but I have no idea whether this vase, seen beneath the mirror above;

this painting; or any of the other contents in my pictures, survived the sale of 2002.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s succulent sausage casserole, perfect roast potatoes, and crisp cauliflower. I drank more of the malbec.

You Provide The Dialogue

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In February 1993 Jessica attended a class in porcelain restoration at Fulbeck Hall in Grantham. This was the home of her friend, Mary Fry. Mary stands in the doorway of the house. The tutor was Anna Hackett, a mutual friend. I fear that the negatives of these images have been permanently lost, so today’s scans are of the colour prints.

Decorative plates, cups,

and delicate dishes all needed the expert attention,

of those able to handle these materials.

The expression of this Japanese gentleman appears to have frozen when he lost his hand.

With the use of a mounted magnifying glass, Jessica painted an elaborate rococo piece.

Here she examines a small chip.

Anna selects a brush with which to touch up a large blue and white jug.

I am not sure what she is doing with this tool.

Another student shares a joke;

Anna turns her careful attention to a beautifully painted urn;

then came a rather perplexing challenge

which gave rise to a forgotten conversation.

Can you provide the dialogue between Anna and Mary?

The opening photograph of Fulbeck Hall is one of a set I produced for Mary’s promotional brochure. I will feature the rest tomorrow.

This evening we dined on highly spiced marinaded spare ribs, wild rice and peas, and spring rolls. I drank Mendoza Parra Alta malbec 2017.

Reflecting Autumn

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This morning Paul and Margery delivered the nicely mounted signed painting that John created on 21st September.

We brunched at Hockey’s Farm Shop.

In the lane outside a donkey rushed to our open car window in search of treats. No-one had told it that Halloween was over.

Its cousins in the farm field, having no need to cadge, could afford to ignore me.

They also took no notice of horses in the neighbouring paddock.

They shared their own grass with very small ponies

and with alpacas.

Autumn leaves

adorned trees over the Ibsley forded stream

in which their reflections swayed in dance.

Sunlight dappled the woodland alongside. If you do enlarge this last one, please ignore the litter.

As with all safely fallen forest trees, this one will remain where it lies, in the interests of ecology.

An antique coach with rather younger hitched trace-horses was parked outside the Alice Lisle pub near Ringwood.

The horses were in harness,

although one looked rather smug,

as part of its equipage dangled free.

The smaller wheels stood at rest below the cab, while the the coachmen presumably enjoyed a glass of porter in the pub.

Hopefully neither the learner nor his or her instructor will have imbibed too much.

This evening we dined on a pepperoni pizza and salad, with which Jackie drank sparkling water and I finished the Fronton.

Criminals Beware

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Jackie drove me to New Milton this morning for me to catch the train to Waterloo so I could lunch with Norman. It had been the intention that she would drive me home at the end of the day, but that is not how it worked out. Normally I telephone her when I know an arrival time. I do this on my mobile phone. But I left it in the car.

From Waterloo I took the underground via Finchley Road to Preston Road station and walked through the John Billam Sports Ground to Norman’s home in Woodcock Hill, Kenton.

The litter bin outside Preston Road clearly doubles as an ash tray for those people desperate for a cigarette as they leave the underground where smoking is prohibited.

On the thoroughfare itself a happy child enjoyed her new scooter,

while a large vehicle struggled to negotiate the corner beside All Seasons fruit and vegetable store without squashing the produce.

On the other side of Preston Road, I turned down Preston Waye (sic) which has clearly seen better days. Rubbish bags surrounding the trunk of an ornamental tree

wrapped by a sign warning criminals off rather detract from its autumn garb. The website of Smartwater, the company responsible for the glaring sleeve, claims: ‘We are an international crime fighting and crime prevention company with an established track record for detecting and deterring criminal activity. We have created a wide range of crime reduction programmes utilising our cutting-edge and proprietary traceable liquid products which have been highly successful in reducing crimes, such as burglary, robbery and asset theft. We work extensively with Law Enforcement, both at a local level and internationally, to implement our crime deterrence strategies.’

The drinks can seen on the wall beyond the tree is one of many stretched along the alley.

Like many similar areas, the number of front gardens abandoned to several motor cars, and the rows of refuse bins, suggest multiple occupancy.

A garden where roses still bloomed there was interestingly furnished;

at the bottom of the road were well tended shrubbery and trees,

to the right of which a path leads to the John Billam Sports Ground. Perhaps one of the visiting magpies had investigated the contents of a bag of litter on the football pitch.

A gentleman, like me, no longer able to play the game, made his way along the footpath and sat on the bench he was aiming for.

Beyond the flame red trees, two huge industrial ride-on mowers swung onto the grass. One of their bags blew off and nestled around a bollard.

Further on towards Woodcock Hill, cigarette packets

and fast food packaging mingled with fallen autumn leaves.

Norman and I lunched on pork pie, beef, and ham salad followed by chocolate eclairs. This had been produced by Jackie and toted by me. Our friend provided an excellent Waitrose beaujolais. Before I left, I phoned Jackie to say that I would be unable to call again without my mobile, and would therefore take a cab home from New Milton.

So far, so good. The train from Waterloo was subject to a certain amount of delay because of “trespassers on the line at Totton”. This meant we had to leave our train at Brockenhurst unless we wanted to go non-stop to Bournemouth. There was a stopping train waiting for us, but that was held back to give another precedence.

Once at New Milton, the cab was quickly available.

P.S. More useful information on Smartwater is contained in Osyth’s comment below.