Nugget tried several times this morning to interfere with Jackie’s planting, but on each occasion
he was called away to attend to his more urgent duties of repelling a would-be boarder from his Weeping Birch station where he did his best to look big and hard as he whistled his deceptively sweet war cries.
After watching the recording of the rugby World Cup match between Scotland and Samoa, I scanned the last eight prints from the Isle of Wight holiday of August 2000.
The waves were pleasantly stimulating when the family entered the water, wherever these shots were taken.
Michael let them crash into him,
although
I’m not sure he saw the last one coming. Where is he now?Jessica, Emily, and Oliver were rather more circumspect as, showered by the spray snowflakes, hands clasped together, they braced themselves against the impact.
This evening we dined at Faros restaurant, Milford on Sea. We received the usual warm and friendly greeting; the service was as efficient and attentive as ever, and the food excellent. We were led to what is now considered as “our table”; Italian red wine was produced for me, and Greek lager for Jackie, with no prompting needed. Jackie’s choice of starter was zucchini fritters, and followed by chicken kebabs, salad, and chips; mine meatballs in a tasty tomato sauce, followed by kleftiko. We had no room for dessert.
It is impossible for anyone who knows the film ‘Zorba The Greek’ to fail to visualise Anthony Quinn when listening to the authentic music in this establishment
Today I watched recordings of the Rugby World Cup matches between Georgia and Uruguay, and between Wales and Australia. Taking breaks from these matches I made crops of Jackie’s photographs, and took the nesting box one myself. It is so good to employ a most competent Assistant Photographer.
Jackie carried out planting, mostly in the Weeping Birch Bed – such as White Ladies asters, and grass panicum Warrior – hindered of course by Nugget who at one point nipped neatly onto her chair when she left it.Those readers who have missed Nugget in the last couple of posts have nothing to fear, our little robin is here. The scale of this picture showing a flash of Jackie’s jeans and a glimpse of her arm, the trowel beside the tufa on which he stands, and the pair of gardening gloves demonstrates just how little he is.
He doesn’t take up much room on a trowel, but he can delay the Head Gardener using it.When Jackie was sitting in the chair mentioned above, Nugget would dart from this stone under her seat in search of fodder.
The finely woven wicker-work of his plumage is most intricate.
Whilst at the south end of the garden Jackie also photographed the Back Drive;
its Japanese anemones against the white wall of No. 5 Downton Lane;
raindrops on its out of season poppy
and convolvulus:
clumps of chrysanthemum buds;
sprigs of bright hawthorn berries;
a wood pigeon basking on the warm gravel;
a volunteer nicotiana sylvestris;
and a further clump of chrysanthemums against hot lips.
She photographed the garden as seen from the Heligan Path;
her stumpery;
and one of two pots of pansies in the Rose Garden.
Not satisfied with the third teapot she has offered Nugget through her estate agency,
when she popped out for more plants at Otter Nurseries she bought a purpose built robin nesting box to increase his choice.
Now, “Where’s Nugget?” (31)
This evening we dined on Jackie’s minced beef topped with Lyonnaise potatoes, crunchy carrots and broccoli with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank Doom Bar.
Early this morning we took a drive into the forest.
From Lymington we entered the sun-dappled narrow, winding, Undershore towards Pilley,
finding glimpses of autumn foliage there and in Lodge Road, across which
a pair of female pheasants trotted.
A group of somnolent ponies occupied Bull Hill.
What. I often wonder, do the field horses make of the freedom of their equine cousins?
This afternoon I watched recordings of the Rugby World Cup matches between Argentina and Tonga; between Japan and Ireland; and between South Africa and Namibia.
Our dinner this evening consisted of Jackie’s wholesome cottage pie; crunchy carrots, cauliflower, and broccoli; tender cabbage and leeks, with sumptuous gravy. The Culinary Queen drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Shiraz.
The light this morning was dull when I took a walk around the garden.
It looks to me as if WordPress have changed my gallery image sizes as they did yesterday. This will mean that nothing can be enlarged. I am also uncertain whether the galleries can be accessed at all. Should either of these situations arise, I will return to the Classic editor. I would appreciate feedback on this.
This afternoon the light was slightly better when I photographed a hosta blooming on the stumpery; the Virginia creeper brightening the back drive,
which also bears hot lips in its border;
bees plundering salvia and cosmos;
and a Red Admiral basking on warm paving bricks.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s classic lamb jalfrezi with mushroom rice and onion samosas. The Culinary Queen drank Hoegaarden and I drank Casillero del Diablo reserva Shiraz 2017.
I watched recordings of World Cup rugby matches, last night between Fiji and Uruguay; today between Italy and Canada, and between England and USA.
Early this evening Jackie drove us to Mudeford and back.
The oyster shells arranged around a beech tree in The Oaks on Lymington Road, Highcliffe revealed themselves to be a ring of fascinating tree fungus.
Beneath louring skies,
aboard choppy waves spray-soaked,
wet-suited, windsurfers strutted their stuff, while
kite surfers preferred the more sheltered harbour.
A lone little egret picked its way along the shallows.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s deliciously authentic tender lamb jalfrezi and savoury rice garnished with fresh coriander with which she drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Saint-Chinian.
I am copying and resubmitting this post because some people never received it and others could not enlarge pictures. (27th September)
I watched recordings of World Cup rugby matches, last night between Fiji and Uruguay; today between Italy and Canada, and between England and USA.
Early this evening Jackie drove us to Mudeford and back.
The oyster shells arranged around a beech tree in The Oaks on Lymington Road, Highcliffe revealed themselves to be a ring of fascinating tree fungus.
Beneath louring skies,
aboard choppy waves spray-soaked,
wet-suited, windsurfers strutted their stuff, while
kite surfers preferred the more sheltered harbour.
A lone little egret picked its way along the shallows.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s deliciously authentic tender lamb jalfrezi and savoury rice garnished with fresh coriander with which she drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Saint-Chinian.
I am copying and resubmitting this post because some people never received it and others could not enlarge pictures. (27th September)
The Regent Centre in Dorset’s Christchurch is a restored 1930s art deco cinema, now also featuring theatre, opera, concerts and dance.
This is where, with Becky and Ian yesterday evening, we viewed the international hit film “Downton Abbey”.
Wikipedia tells us that ‘Downton Abbey is a British historical period drama television series set in the early 20th century, created and co-written by Julian Fellowes. The series first aired on ITV in the United Kingdom on 26 September 2010, and in the United States on PBS, which supported production of the series as part of its Masterpiece Classic anthology, on 9 January 2011.
On 26 March 2015, Carnival Films and ITV announced that the sixth series would be the last. It aired on ITV between 20 September 2015 and 8 November 2015. The final episode, serving as the annual Christmas special, was broadcast on 25 December 2015. A film adaptation, serving as a continuation of the series, was confirmed on 13 July 2018 and released in the United Kingdom on 13 September 2019. The Downton Abbey film was released in the United States on September 20, 2019.’
Having watched the entire TV series with Becky in 2015 it was natural that we should see the film together. I will not reveal the story, save to say that it was set in 1927 when it was becoming more and more difficult for such aristocratic families as the Crawleys to maintain their style of living. Sumptuously filmed with the flawless acting of the original cast and a few additions representing characters I shall leave nameless, the presentation more than lived up to our hopes. It is an excellent portrayal of an era the ending of which was abruptly hastened by the Second World War. There is historical accuracy, drama, tension, intrigue, and humour in spades.
The cinema was justifiably packed – not such a regular occurrence as it had been in the 1930s heyday of this form of entertainment before television took over.
Julian Fellowes, a local man, and a Conservative peer of the House of Lords, is a patron of
Enlargement of this flier can be obtained by accessing the gallery with a click.
Each showing in this run of the film is made in support of the Association. The film is preceded by an appeal by Baron Fellowes and a collection is made in the foyer.
After we left the cinema, Becky drove us all to The Wheel Inn where we enjoyed our dinner. In the car we recounted snippets of the film which I will not reveal. Back at home, both in the evening and again in the morning, we revelled in Maggie Smith’s straight-faced sardonic jousting lines as the Dowager Countess of Grantham.
It was pizza night at The Wheel, Jackie and I both chose the meat feast version. These were excellent, and so large as to overlap the plates on which they were served. They were freshly made by the chef. Ian chose the equally good house burger. Becky’s choice was a salmon and, I think, spinach risotto. We had begun with starters – Jackie and I selected the tempura prawns while our daughter and son-in-law shared a paté. Becky drank Diet Coke, I drank Ringwood’s Best, and Jackie and Ian chose different lagers.
Becky and Ian returned home after lunch this afternoon.
Assisted by Nugget, Jackie planted rows of cyclamen.
Her little hindrance looked askance at the robin food she placed on a stone in the hope that he would be diverted from
his preferred choice of live prey the Head Gardener disturbed for his delectation.
“Where’s Nugget?” (30)
This evening we dined on fish cakes; one with chillis, the other cheese and parsley centred; juicy ratatouille; and crunchy carrots and cauliflower with which Jackie drank more of the Albarino and I drank more of the Saint-Chinian.
Here is some additional information about the Regent Cinema from Barrie on my Facebook page: Barrie Haynes Julian Fellows was my Lord of the Manor when I lived in Tattershall (Lincs). I was willing to be the last man standing, protecting the ancient village green and butter cross for him against Tesco! In the end Tesco retreated and I lived to fight another day. He is a very nice bloke and his wife, Emma, is charming. I suppose that you could say that the Regent is sort of ‘Art Deco’ but you have no idea how rough it was in the ’60s/’70s, everyone in Christchurch called it The Bug Hutch! It is a very lucky survivor and has also had major structural problems. It was the second cinema built in the town, the first is now the former Royal British Legion building in Bargates. I probably still hold the record for being chucked out of the Regent on a Saturday night during a miss spent youth. I hope the above is of interest.
Heavy rain this morning gave way to bright, sunny, spells; in one of which I photographed some raindrops
on roses, dahlia Puerto Rico, a begonia, a pelargonium, fuchias, and penstemons.
Japanese anemones had managed to stay dry.
It didn’t take Nugget long to join in, and
he was almost too quick for “Where’s Nugget?” (29)
Becky and Ian joined us late this afternoon and accompanied us to the Regent Centre in Christchurch where we watched “Downton Abbey”, then drove to Bowling Green to dine at The Wheel Inn. I will report on this tomorrow.
Today dawned with sunny intervals. As the meteorologists had correctly forecast driving rain this afternoon, we drove to Setley Ridge to buy a birthday present, then into the forest,
I photographed two woodland scenes outside Brockenhurst, from where we drove across the moors towards Beaulieu.
A solitary horse and rider trotted across the fading heather;
a loan pony grazed beside Hatchet Pond;
while a small group found their fodder nearer the road.
It was not far outside the village that we were held up by a pair of ponies soon to be joined by others. For me there was nothing for it but to leave the car and
join in the fun.
The progress of the red Qashqai was indicative of the necessary negotiations. When we returned more than an hour later the languid equine road-lords and -ladies still held court.
By and large cattle have more road sense and remain on the verges, leaving the road to cyclists.
There were, of course, exceptions.
Stopping by a pine copse on the road between Beaulieu and Brockenhurst, I focussed on the landscape.
It was gentle donkeys that occupied the tarmac on the way to Saint Leonard’s,
beyond which another group of cows mostly kept to the verges with their calves.
This afternoon I received a request from WordPress to rate their recent attempts to help me with various problems. I was given two options: “I’m happy” or “I’m not happy”. Naturally I chose the latter. I was then asked to elaborate. This is what I wrote:
“I’m not very competent. I couldn’t get zoom going. The subsequent chat didn’t help – I was given three links – one to a book which I would have to buy. I work best talking to a human being. If that is not possible I will have to accept that you can’t help me. (I am intelligent enough to have written a daily post for 7 years and have only met problems with the introduction of Gutenberg editor. Having said all that I am 77 years old).”
This evening we dined on succulent lamb steak; crisp roast potatoes and parsnips; crunchy carrots and tender cabbage, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank Saint-Chinian 2016.
Aaron works in all weathers. This morning, however warm enough, was even too wet for him. He visited anyway and we enjoyed a pleasant conversation over tea, coffee, and biscuits.
Afterwards I watched England’s World Cup Rugby match against Tonga.
Although this afternoon the skies remained overcast, the steady rain let up; Jackie worked on cuttings in the greenhouse; and I tried to photograph
Nugget without his getting too much under my feet as he darted back and forth after prey.
“Where’s Nugget?” (28)
Rosa Glauca hips and pelargoniums are just two examples of wearers of glistening pearls;
Virginia creeper perspired precipitation,
which weighed down one solitary bedraggled wasp’s antennae.
We have never before had so many nuts dropping from our copper beech. They have to be swept up daily, the husks making good mulch.
Later, with the sun made fairly regular appearances, we drove out into the forest.
One flock of sheep occupied the green at Bramshaw
while another streamed out onto a side lane.
A lone pony was carrying out lawn mowing duties at Nomansland.
Pigs, such as these at Landford, sought out mast;
we wondered what this one at Fritham had caught. soon we realised that
she had trapped a rat
and that she had bitten off more than she could chew. Jackie exclaimed that this sight had permanently put her off pannage pork.
We took the lane leading from Fritham down to Eyeworth Pond where
small birds flitted to and from the trees and the peanuts birders had left on the posts.
An inquisitive cow raised its head in the woodland,
and ponies enhanced the moorland landscape.
This evening we dined on fish pie and a medley of carrots, cauliflower, greens, and runner beans, all perfectly cooked al dente. We both drank Albarino 2017.
Jessica, Emily, and Oliver were rather more circumspect as, showered by the spray snowflakes, hands clasped together, they braced themselves against the impact.
