Month: December 2018

Skydiving

At 2.45 p.m. it wasn’t long before sunset on this shortest day of the year when Jackie drove us to Barton on Sea where she enjoyed coffee and a slice of Victoria sponge while I sat on a bench peering through dim haze at

The Needles and their lighthouse.

I could just make out a fishing boat beyond

the choppy, glinting old gold, indigo, and spume-white seas rushing to the shore

along which an intrepid couple cycled alone.

Unusually silent gulls swooping, darting, floating, overhead enjoyed the fun of skydiving as I stretched my neck following them with my lens.

Meanwhile, a trio of crows pecked up scraps left by other customers eating cake in the Beachcomber garden. Without even retracting their undercarriages they took off when I approached.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s powerful chilli con carne with savoury rice, with which she drank Tiger Beer and I drank more of the Saint-Chinian opened two or three days ago yet still most potable.

I think I have mastered the enlargement problem, so these images should be capable of what Pauline calls bigifying.

Perkins’ Piece

The eponymous small piece of land to which Jackie drove us on another rain-spattered afternoon; having been donated by purchaser John Perkins to Boldre Parish in 1977; is today carpeted with daisies, and furnished with a splendid wooden bench.

This image details the history of the 18th century wheelwright’s business, and demise with the advent of the motor car

The use of the wheelbed on display is described on the board illustrated above. Enlargement will show a small piece of fungus growing between two spokes as they join the hub.

Distant horses grazed in a field alongside.

Another group of horses caught my eye in a field alongside Church Lane. As I approached to photograph them, they took off and galloped up to the far end of their paddock.

At Pilley Street a ponies’ Christmas party had clearly come to an end. Most wore Santa hats; one posed as a reindeer. Each steed and rider was led happily home.

We dropped in on Elizabeth in her new house where she was in the midst of struggling on the telephone with BT who were messing her about. Much of the time she was kept on hold listening to muzak on loudspeaker. We made her a cup of tea and went home.

This evening we dined at The Royal Oak. My splendid meal consisted of succulent venison, roast new potatoes, purple sprouting broccoli, and red cabbage; Jackie’s equally enjoyable choice was a chicken burger, with coleslaw, salad, onion rings, and French fries. I drank merlot while my lady quaffed Amstel.

No Further Sustenance Required

Have you ever heard of nasturtiums blooming in England six days before Christmas?

Well you have now. These still cling, erect, to the trellis attached to the garage door.

The purpose of Walkford Woodland Burial Ground is to provide plots for interment and for ashes which will eventually return to their natural state. Approved trees may be planted among the graves, with clusters of flowers around the cremated ashes. These flora must be those found indigenous to this country.

Today I accompanied Jackie, Helen, and Shelley for their annual placing of a wreath on their mother’s plot.

Afterwards Shelley produced a splendid meal for us all, including other husbands, Ron and Bill. We were treated to a succulent chicken and artichoke heart casserole; creamy mashed potato; and flavoursome carrots and Brussels sprouts. This was followed by home-grown raspberry and blackberry crumble with cream or custard. I, of course, chose custard. Red and white wines were on offer, after mulled wine. When we returned home no further sustenance was required.

Byron Road Extravaganza

Christmas cards were completed today; Christmas shopping was continued; the tree was placed in situ, and a few lights draped on it and around the walls.

Our Velux kitchen window leaks. There is no connection between the amount of rain and the leaks. Sometimes beneath very heavy rain the table remains dry; sometimes less rain slips in and plops into various collection pots. Today we have experienced the latter phenomenon, with heavy rain. The first picture presents a reflection of the table covered by an old dressing gown and containing a bowl; the second has a container placed at the next likely site; the mop and an old towel catch what bounces off the plastic container on the windowsill.
It is a bit like Chinese water torture as I type – not on my forehead, but certainly in my ears. Wikipedia speculates thus about the origin of the idiom: ‘The term “Chinese water torture” may have arisen from Chinese Water Torture Cell (a feat of escapology introduced in Berlin at Circus Busch September 13, 1910; the escape entailed Harry Houdini being bound and suspended upside-down in a locked glass and steel cabinet full to overflowing with water, from which he escaped), together with the Fu Manchu stories of Sax Rohmer that were popular in the 1930s (in which Fu Manchu subjected his victims to various ingenious tortures, such as the wired jacket). Hippolytus de Marsiliis is credited with the invention of a form of water torture [in Italy in the 15th or 16th century]. Having observed how drops of water falling one by one on a stone gradually created a hollow, he applied the method to the human body. Other suggestions say that the term “Chinese water torture” was invented merely to grant the method a sense of ominous mystery. The victim would be stripped of their clothes, shown to the public, then tortured. They would be driven insane while bystanders watched and mocked them.’
Early this evening we visited the Christmas lights display at Byron Road. This time the water was dripping on my forehead; and on my head; and in my eyes. Nevertheless the 35mm SIGMA lens was up to the job, even though I couldn’t really tell whether the subjects were in focus as I sped around the glorious front gardens.

The main thrust of the exhibition is along a terrace on one side of the road.

Each of the facing gardens features their occupants’ own take on the festive season.

A few more gardens on the other side of the road than usual have joined in the fun,

which is reflected in residents’ parked cars.

We went on to dine at Lal Quilla. We both drank Kingfisher, and shared an egg paratha, special fried rice, and lentil and cauliflower bahji. My main meal was lamb vindaloo; Jackie’s chicken buna.
 

Lens Test

I received a telephone call a day or so ago to tell me that the blood taken in Wednesday’s test had clotted, so we would have to return to New Hall hospital for a repeat. There was only one possible slot for this – today at 11.30 a.m. Jackie duly drove me there to have another extraction. Apart from a miscommunication about the timing (the sample had to be taken immediately before a courier sped off to London with it) this was all very straightforward.
As usual we diverted through the forest on our way home.

The parasitic balls clinging to an avenue of trees in Hale

are clusters of mistletoe enticingly dangling out of reach of would-be Christmas decorators.

The first three of these photographs were taken with my Canon SX700 HS; the last two with my Canon EOS 5D Mark II with the SIGMA 105mm Macro.
The smaller camera is preferable for wider shots – better if you can see what you are doing. It must be twelve months ago that I managed to crack the screen, with the result that this,

taken with the larger camera, is what I see when focussing on the wall opposite. As Jackie says, it is not just a point and shoot, but rather a point, shoot, and hope. Even the chevron shape of the crack is somewhat flattened.

Ditches, rivulets, and pools are now filling up nicely throughout the forest.

I used the 105mm lens for these shots of a grazing foal reflecting on a ditch alongside Roger Penny Way. First, as I approached the subject, I used the full range of the lens;


then, as I neared the young pony, switched to .45m – infinity.

On the other side of Roger Penny Way, I noticed another, adult, pony reflected in a speeding pool in the distant landscape. This image was produced with the full range of the above camera.

Here is the same scene seen with the SIGMA 105-600 mm at full range.

To our right of this animal were two more visible beyond now naked trees, taken with the same equipment.

The larger lens, set at 105mm, caught the first furry coated creature having crossed the ditch, probably without lifting its muzzle from its meal.

This evening we dined on firm pork chops; creamy mashed potato and swede; crunchy carrots and Brussels sprouts with which I drank Saint-Chinian 2017
 

Our First Festive Meal Of The Season


 

All our camellia bushes are laden with buds,

and the first bloom has appeared.

Soon after noon, Jackie drove us to Helen and Bill’s new house at Fordingbridge where, for us and for Shelly and Ron, Helen produced

a succulent and intriguing roast duck meal complete with crisp roast potatoes and parsnips; sweet carrots; and purple Brussels sprouts.

Having been preceded by pigs in blankets (small sausages wrapped in bacon), this was followed by Shelly’s splendid home grown raspberry trifle, cream, and Helen’s mince pies whose secret ingredient was cream cheese. Red and white wines were consumed.
Naturally Jackie and I needed no further sustenance this evening.

Christmas Greetings

Today Jackie has been mostly wrapping presents, and I have been mostly writing Christmas cards,

This is a scan of the original drawing for my card for 1976, which first featured in my post of 2nd May 2015

I hope all my blogging friends will accept this as my Christmas Greetings to you all.

 
 
 
 
 
 

In order to acknowledge the inspiration for this card, I returned to Photography Year Book 1971 and was pleasantly surprised that I had somewhat adapted photographer Baron Arnaud de Rosnay’s portrait of model Naomi Sims. I recollected that I had used the image, but neither that it had been a jacket illustration, nor that there had been no infant. Here are the front and rear images. I removed the jewellery and closed the young lady’s eye; substituting the baby for her shoulder. The child was clearly my own invention. In deciding to contrast one eye shut with the other focussing on the viewer, I must have wanted a calm sense of peace emanating from the mother and alert inquisitiveness from the child. The mother’s open hand cradles her son while his little closed fist rests on her shoulder.

This evening we dined on well cooked pork chops with mustard and almonds; creamy mashed potato and swede; crunchy carrots and Brussels sprouts. I finished the Malbec.
 

Up On The Roof

This morning I made four 5 x 7 prints for Ian from his and Becky’s wedding.
After lunch I made a start on the Christmas cards and Jackie and I drove to New Milton for some Christmas shopping, and continued on into the forest.
The day was dull and dry.

We arrived at a glassy Hatchet Pond when a pink strip above the tree line was a precursor of the impending weak sunset.

Waterfowl in evidence included a pair of swans and their adolescent cygnet

flexing its muscles

in sight of gulls, mallards, and moorhens.

One vociferous gull seemed to be reflecting on this 1962 classic of The Drifters:


 

The tide was high at Tanners Lane where the Isle of Wight, The Needles, and the lighthouse were silhouetted against the pink precursor.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s flavoursome lamb jalfrezi with tasty savoury rice. The Culinary Queen drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Malbec.
 
 
 
 
 
 

The Dying Of The Light

Increasingly sunburned clouds sped across the dawn skies over Christchurch Road this morning

as Jackie drove me to Lymington Hospital for my flexible endoscopy. It was just my luck that this procedure was carried out by a beautiful, slender, Italian doctor.

There is no apparent damage. I delivered a report to my GP in Milford on Sea, and the urologist has undertaken to write to my knee surgeon with recommendations for the next replacement operation.
Elizabeth completed her move into her new home today.
This morning’s procedure rather knocked me out for much of the day, so I had to defer a planned trial of my new lens in good light. At the last possible moment Jackie and I sped off to Mudeford to try out the 600mm monster.

There wasn’t much of a sunset itself,

but, at the dying of the light, I had fun seated on a bench watching geese skeins, sometimes keeping to the familiar V formation;

sometimes unravelling, as they left our shores;

and, coming in to land, gulls gathering together, purposefully preening.

This evening Jackie and I dined on her delectable chilli con carne and delicious savoury rice. She drank Hoegaarden and I drank Alzar Malbec 2017.
 

“That’s What I Call Home Delivery”

Early this morning Jackie drove me to New Hall Hospital for a Pre-Admission Assessment. The assessment was fine, but I was urged to chase up the urology photographic examination, otherwise it is extremely unlikely that the surgery date of 9th January will be met.

In the Wiltshire village of Braemore the Brakes of a container lorry had failed. It had clearly crossed the central reservation and

knocked on the door of the wonderful thatched house, Japonica.

BREAKING NEWS….BREAKING NEWS……BREAKING NEWS…..BREAKING NEWS……..
As I was drafting this I received a phone call in which I learned the name of the above mentioned examination. It is called a flexible cystoscopy. I am having one at 8.30 in the morning.
I left a message for my knee surgeon’s secretary informing her of this.
Now, where was I?
Ah, yes.

The lorry had demolished a bus shelter on the way to the house.

Shrubbery had been crushed.

A young man was clearing up the rubble.

Jackie’s observation on this incident was “that’s what I call home delivery”. After I photographed the scene we took a diversion through the forest where,

at Godshill, a velvety burnished chestnut pony tore at the holly beside a high-banked verge,

while a drowsy foal basked in the bracken.

As so often, ponies stood on the tarmac of Roger Penny Way, one stubby little individual stubbornly refusing to budge.

I stood for a while on Deadman Hill, admiring the sunlit landscape, with its distant ponies, nestling buildings, and ubiquitous trees.

Yesterday, my Canon 300 mm lens became stuck, making it impossible to adjust the focal length. We therefore took it into Wessex Photographic at Ringwood for them to send it away for repair. There will be a delay of a couple of months for an estimate, which gave me an excuse to buy a Sigma 600 mm lens as recommended by fellow blogger, Sherry Felix.

We then brunched in Café Aroma. This meant we didn’t need much more this evening. We all had sandwiches; the ladies enjoyed Jackie’s leek and potato soup. Elizabeth and I drank Como Sur Bicicleta Reserva Pinot Noir 2017. I confined myself to corned beef and Branston pickle sandwiches.
P.S. For all those who expressed concern about the occupants of the house, this is a copy of a Facebook comment from a London friend: ‘Maureen Allen This is my friends house thank god they were not hurt but still a big shock xx’