The Reader

After a little clearance work in the garden I spent much of the day finishing reading

This is Penguin Books 1948 edition of Huxley’s novel first published in 1923. Today’s seven and a half pence is the current coin equivalent of the purchase price of one shilling and sixpence. We could, in 1948 have bought six of De Marco’s 3d ice creams mentioned in https://derrickjknight.com/2012/05/29/the-bees/ for that money.

At that time Penguin books were bound with stitching which must be one reason why this copy remains intact.

Huxley’s novel, allegedly comic, is to my mind a tragic farce focussing on London’s post WW1 promiscuous Bohemian intellectuals. His second work of fiction contains his usual exploration of ideas and includes a number of devices such as the dialogue of a musical play within the story. The writing is as fluid as ever although terms like ‘blackamoors’ and ‘nigger mask’ for a band of musicians and a piece of carving, albeit not meant in a derogatory sense, grate on modern ears.

Regular readers will know of my penchant for leaving bookmarks in my own copies for posterity to find within the pages. Sometime before the mid 1960s someone has beaten me to it

with this compliments slip, from perhaps Joan, who might have been trying to get her pen to work by scribbling as I sometimes do in order to make the ink flow. The telephone number is the key. Before the 1950s very few people had telephones and the early exchanges were operated manually by banks of usually female staff who connected callers to the required recipient. As in the number on this slip the areas were identified by the first letters of the location followed by four digits. All-digit numbers were introduced in the early 1960s, when the TEM of Temple Bar became 836. Later still London numbers were, in two stages, further divided to begin 0207 (inner) or 0208 (outer).

Watching me reading, and correctly assuming that this would all appear on today’s blog post, Jackie decided to make her own contribution in the forms of

her photograph of me and this Father’s Day card Becky sent me some years ago.

Shortly before sunset we drove to Barton on Sea to have a look at it. These are my photographs;

and here are Jackie’s,

with a couple of me.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s spicy paprika pork, tender runner beans, and boiled new potatoes, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Médoc.

Sunny Periods

As the early morning sunshine made way for the later gloom I assisted the Head Gardener in some tidying of the garden whilst also

recording the current state of affairs. Along with various views I photographed dahlias, fuchsias, clematises, roses, nicotiana, leaves of Weeping Birch and Virginia creeper, asters, a bee, and begonias. Clicking on any image will access the gallery which provides individual titles and aids enlargement.

Later this afternoon because we were promised sunny periods we went in search of some, finding one bestowing its charms on Ibsley where

an assortment of pigs frenziedly competing for mast rocketed along the leaf-dappled verges and to and fro across the roads grunting, snuffling, occasionally squealing in isolated panic and frantically dashing about, perplexing the be-rugged field horses and amusing visiting drivers.

The forded stream is now reasonably full,

and the surrounding landscapes rich in autumn colour.

A solitary pony at Appleslade sported.a caramel coat.

This evening we dined on succulent roast chicken; crisp Yorkshire pudding and roast potatoes, the sweeter variety being softer centred; herby sage and onion stuffing; tender cabbage and firm Brussels sprouts, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Médoc.

Thunder

This morning I read in the car while Jackie shopped first in Milford Supplies for hand gel, wipes, and a mask; then for pansies in Ferndene Farm Shop, after which we continued into the forest, where Holmsley Passage displayed signs of autumn in the form of

partially nibbled mushrooms, vibrant wild rose hips, and golden brown bracken.

The rippling stream flows beneath the little bridge spanning the lane, now so narrowly tarmacked as to be almost impassable.

While I focussed on the bracken Jackie photographed her resident wing mirror spider as it emerged from hiding, took a little exercise round the rim, and scuttled back inside.

As I wandered in the woodland alongside Bisterne Close the tranquility I shared with a pair of peaceful ponies was about to be disturbed by a steadily increasing rolling, reverberating, thunder, which, given the clarity of the skies was somewhat surprising.

Suddenly, streaming through the trees and into the open a string of assorted ponies rushed past, scooping up the original couple in their wake. Soon they could be seen among distant gorse bushes until their thundering hooves recommenced and instantly they were gone.

All was returned to calm normality by cattle leisurely blocking Bennet’s Lane.

This afternoon Jackie planted the pansies around Scooby’s grave with tete-a-tete daffodil bulbs beneath them.

Later we dined on a second sitting of Mr Chan’s excellent Hordle Chinese Take Away fare with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank a very smooth Bordeaux Médoc 2018

Back With Foal

Heavy rain and violent winds raged throughout the night and until midday, after which the cloud canopy cracked revealing a range of skyscapes such as these over Beaulieu Heath on our forest drive this afternoon.

Before this we dumped the rest of our garden refuse in the Efford Recycling Centre and returned home with

two rusty obelisks which took up rather a lot of room in the car.

Having cleaned ourselves up a bit we continued on up South Sway Lane where, yesterday I had been unable to identify the mare at the far end of the field occupied earlier in the year by the horse we had named Gimlet.

The field had been empty and unkempt since before lockdown, but a new fence had been built around it. The mare and her foal were nearer my vantage point today.

There was no mistaking those gimlet eyes or the rear white socks, although they had been decidedly grey during the muddy season. This was indeed our equine friend

back home with a foal whose eyes left no doubt about its parentage.

Further along the lane I noticed an unusual fungus decorating an oak tree.

We returned home via Rodlease Lane

and East Boldre where a group of ponies seemed to be debating how to spring a cousin enclosed beyond a second gate at the end of a mowed stretch of ground.

One of the East End llamas was trying out a mudpack.

This evening we dined on Hordle Chinese Take Away’s excellent fare with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Shiraz.

Norwegian Rocks

On another bright morning, in preparation for tomorrow’s booked slot in the recycling centre, I carried the next batch of garden refuse bags to the far end of the back drive. We then drove to the pharmacy at Milford on Sea to collect repeat prescriptions, and back along the coast road.

A number of walkers were enjoying our sunny spell. (The lone woman was photographed by Jackie).

Serious erosion continues to pare away at the cliffs. The gentleman in the yellow jacket here was my informant on the subject of the ongoing

sea defence work being undertaken by Earlcote. The huge blocks of stone being transported by a fleet of container trucks, grabbed, and released into place by powerful equipment have been shipped all the way from Norway. These photographs are the result of my collaboration with the Assistant Photographer who is credited appropriately in the gallery titles.

I didn’t have anything to do with this one.

We continued inland to South Sway Lane to collect three bags of horse manure which I later added to the compost bins. In these times of Covid we were both pleased to note that we have not lost our senses of smell.

The far end of the field opposite now holds a horse and foal. The mare kept her back turned, so I couldn’t tell whether it was Gimlet or not.

We filled up with petrol at Loaders Garage in Bashley, where I photographed a vintage car for the amusement of my American readers, one of whom may be able to identify the vehicle.

This evening we dined on another sitting of Jackie’s splendid lamb jalfrezi, turmeric tinted boiled rice, and plain paratha, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Malbec.

A Close Encounter Of The Porcine Kind

I have often featured cattle and other animals basking beneath Bramshaw’s ancient oak. These pictures were produced in November 2018.

This morning the unburied corpse of this once mighty giant, some of its limbs chopped up, lay across the green, being investigated by a solitary calf which is hidden in three of these images. The muddy turf was littered with acorns. The shattered trunk of the tree was completely hollow. A telegraph pole had been pulled down with it. The weight of a few hundred years and the winds of storm Alex had been too much for this venerable Quercus.

We had noticed this disaster on our way to Nomansland in the gloom of yesterday evening and felt impelled to pay our last respects early this morning.

On this village’s other green ponies cast their shadows, donkeys dawdled,

and sheep sheltered under healthier oaks.

Along the road to Furzley Common others rose to their feet in trepidation as I approached.

At the Furzey Lane crossroads I witnessed a close encounter between a somewhat sheepish pony and a snuffling piglet.

Soon the little porker trotted across the road to join its squealing siblings swinging round the corner in the wake of a soggy, grunting, sow.

While I poked my lens at pigs, Jackie aimed at alpacas occupying a distant shed.

Donkeys and a foal soaked up the sun in Blackhill Road.

Our return home was greeted by rainclouds and a showery afternoon.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s spicy lamb jalfrezi, a plain paratha, and turmeric tinted boiled rice with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank Cahors Malbec 2018.

In Their Element

Although steady rain returned this afternoon, this morning’s weather was bright and sunny, so we, wisely as it turned out, paid attention to the forecast and took a forest drive.

Tanners Lane, down which, as so often, we encountered ponies on our way to the beach has been impossible to negotiate during the tourist season. What with that and Covid we have not visited this for six months or so.

This barrier log is one means residents employ of deterring parking across their entrances or on their verges.

A solitary trio of walkers enjoyed the beach, so close to the Isle of Wight.

The incoming tide whisked foam bubbles which, like outsize frogspawn clusters, clung to floating seaweed binding the moistened rocks.

After having been dry for several months the pool outside St Leonards Grange, thanks to three days of almost continual rain, is now full again, and most of the members of the local equine tribe are back in their element enjoying weed soup, while one

favoured drier fodder on a bank beneath a spreading oak.

This evening we dined at The Lamb Inn at Nomansland, approaching which Jackie photographed me; also her main course of an excellent beef burger and mine of an equally good steak and ale pie with roasted carrots and parsnips. Each was served with a bucket of chips. Our respective desserts were perfect moist chocolate fudge cake and Bakewell tart of similar quality, each with ice cream. My wife drank Carlsberg and I drank Doom Bar.

40441.2020

Relentless rain pelted runners racing today’s bespoke peripatetic London Marathons. This was the event like no other in living memory. Covid-19 had caused the normal spring date to be postponed until now. Only elite runners were able to compete in the capital city, on a revised route tailored just for them. All other competitors were invited to measure out their own routes which to follow in their home areas.

Our nephew-in-law, Andy ran from his home in Shirley, a suburb of Southampton, to the green outside the historic Chequers Inn on the outskirts of Lymington. Various friends and relatives tracked him and applauded along the way. His cycling escort, friend Jonathon, would have been in the elite race, but has injured a foot. Elizabeth e-mailed me these images of the start.

We gathered first at Lyndhurst’s Bolton’s Bench.

Bedraggled ponies and their attendant crows trotted or foraged. Ella said “I like horses”; Elizabeth tracked progress on an app thingy; rain pelted the puddles.

and was cheered on by friends and daughter standing in rainy puddles.

The next meeting point was Denny Wood where the hero of the day, after 13 miles was looking fresh and relaxed as he waved to his supporters, before trotting off through the forest. Have I mentioned the rain?

The route continued along Beaulieu Heath. We gathered at

the Norleywood car park, as wet as everywhere else,

then waited on the main road. Take note of the two leading friends,

who happily gatecrashed this stage of the journey.

By Boldre Lane runner and escort had been joined by Andy’s brother, Richard, offering encouragement for the last few miles.

We all gathered at the finish. Elizabeth sent me the last of these pictures.

Andy and Jonathon, accompanied by Richard, hove into view

and the hero was given a warm welcome.

Elizabeth came home with us afterwards where, for a late lunch, we all enjoyed Jackie’s chicken stoup followed by her apple pie and ice cream.

Later in the evening Jackie and I dined on egg mayonnaise sandwiches with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Shiraz.

In The Rain

Heavy, steady, rain fell throughout most of the day.

I photographed the scenes from indoors. The pendant in the rain spattered window was made for me by the daughter of a client some thirty years ago. The fallen pot was blown down. If there are any more we don’t want to know about it.

I looked down on the garden from upstairs.

Seen from our bedroom window, the puddle in the gutter outside our front drive is a good rain gauge.

At mid morning we left in the rain for a damp forest drive. I had expected simply to make photographs from the car. In the event I couldn’t help myself, so Jackie parked on the verge of Braggers Lane where I found raindrops spiralling in puddles; damp trees; and

damper field horses, some in rugs rooting around, I think for acorns – poisonous to them – in puddles behind barbed wire.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s cracking chicken stoup and crusty bread, followed by ample apple pie and custard, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Shiraz.

A Garden Stream

This morning Jackie created and photographed in situ this stone for Scooby. As soon as she can order one next month, Becky will plant a softly scented rose ‘Little White Pet’.

Later, on this, Mum’s 98th birthday, we visited her at Woodpeckers Care Home, brought a card and pot plants, and sang Happy Birthday. The plaster on her arm remains as a precaution against clothes rubbing on the well healed skin. Mum peeled it back to show us that it is quite dry. The dressing will finally be removed tomorrow.

This afternoon we took a drive into the forest.

One end of Church Lane crosses a now fast flowing swollen stream stretching through the landscape and a long garden. We experienced a great deal of overnight rainfall which has contributed to this.

Close scrutiny of the recently cropped tails on some of the various ponies occupying Wooden House Lane in Pilley will indicate that they have been rounded up and freshly clipped in a Drift round up.

These creatures were particularly persistent in gaining my acquaintance; so much so that I could feel the breath from their nostrils tickling the hairs on the back of my hand. I therefore popped back into the car and changed my lens, so that I could keep a slightly more sociable distance.

Two of the equine creatures were not into maintaining any sort of distance.

On Pilley Bailey ponies on the road had no qualms about displaying their neat tail trims.

This evening we dined on spicy pork chops; roast potatoes, some of which were sweet; crisp carrots and cauliflower; with tender runner beans and meaty gravy. Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank The Second Fleet Limestone Coast Shiraz 2019.