Month: November 2020

Autumn Reflections

Jackie and I each photographed a few flowers

blooming yesterday morning. Here are the Assistant Photographer’s contributions. The first three are of Mrs Popple fuchsias and a giant which has lost its label; next is a white solanum with the bright blue Ali Baba planter in the background; the hanging baskets following contain petunias and bacopas; next, not actually a flower, are bejewelled weeping birch catkins; and finally we have raindrops on black eyed Susans.

Mine were chrysanthemums of varying hues, still hot lips, and, believe it or not, yellow antirrhinums.

Before lunch today we took a short drive into the forest, via

Lower Sandy Down which offered

a number of autumn scenes.

Church Lane, running up and down from Boldre to Pilley, came next.

Jackie parked on a verge while I stood on the road bridge contemplating

the now fast-flowing stream and its reflections.

This tangle of oak branches and the weeping willow tresses were also visible from my vantage point.

At Pilley we encountered a number of ponies beside the lake,

and noticed that Foxglove and Twinkle now have chickens for company.

The cyclist who squeezed past these donkeys on the road must have been intrigued at the number of times we passed him as we wandered around in circles at this point.

Back at home Nick continued working proficiently yet at a rate of knots. Moving from room to room as he put curtains back up and another coat of paint on the door in the sitting room; he further prepared the kitchen and added paint to walls and ceiling. One of the horrors he had to deal with was the hole in the lath and plaster wall into which had been driven by our predecessors a bracket on which swung a large fridge that blocked the doorway during their residence.

Unfortunately our craftsman will have to leave the work in the kitchen until after 19th January which is the earliest that Barry Chislett-Bruce can repair our leak. Reflecting their reliability and the quality of their work, both these men, thorough experts in their fields, are very busy, so we are happy to wait.

This evening we dined on crisp oven fish and chips; green peas; piquant pickled onions and gherkins, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank Prestige de Calvet Cotes du Rhone Villages 2019.

Close Encounter Of The Covid Kind

On an unseasonably mild morning of sunshine and showers we drove into the deserted forest where Jackie decanted me at a few unpopulated points where I wandered with my camera.

Had we been in a hurry down Beckley Road we might have had a closer than comfortable encounter with an approaching van.

Fortunately Jackie had parked on a verge while I photographed autumnal woodland with its yellowing leaves fallen on soggy ground and clinging to dripping trees.

Our next stop was along Rhinefield Road where I rustled leaves underfoot while seeking further fall images.

Passing under the A31 and pausing on Linwood Road I walked back to photograph

reflections in a recently replenished pool, whilst taking in

pleasantly hazy landscapes,

one of which camouflaged a pair of grazing ponies.

Cattle hunkered down among the gorse.

We continued through Appleslade where

the glowing hillsides whispered to the sunlit trees opposite a naked windswept silhouette.

From our high vantage point I watched a close encounter as a pair of horse riders approached and, hopefully keeping social distance, crossed paths with a pedestrian couple. Perhaps they passed the time of day.

On the road above Ibsley ford as I photographed

sunlit woodland we could hear cries of children playing in the grounds of Moyles Court School, like others, currently being kept open. This is not so for pubs, which must be disappointing for the staff of

Elm Tree on Hightown Road who have installed a magnificent poppy display in the now closed garden.

Nick has continued painting woodwork in the sitting room

and wrestling with preparation in the kitchen.

This evening we dined on a second sitting of Hordle Chinese Take Away’s fine fare, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Malbec.

Security For King George IV’s Coronation

On this drizzle-dismal day Jackie cut my hair and I scanned another batch of Black and White negatives from

Brompton Cemetery in September 2008. The entrance gates bear the name of West London and Westminster Cemetery Company which opened the facility in 1840. Freshly dug graves, awaiting the settling of the soil, occupy the foreground of the penultimate picture.

Two notable tombs in Brompton are those of pugilist John “Gentleman” Jackson, shared with his beloved niece and adopted daughter, Elizabeth; and of actor and dramatist Henry Pettitt.

Jackson (1769-1845) lies beneath the apt figure of a lion. ‘He was considered an exceptional amateur boxer prior to 1788. On 9 June 1788, aged around nineteen, Jackson defeated William Futrell at Smithham Bottom, England, in a bout lasting one hour, seven minutes.[1] Futrell was a giant of a man, undefeated, and held a string of 18 victories, when he faced the younger Jackson.[4]

In his second bout on 12 March 1789, against John Ingleston, on a rainy day at Ingatestone, England, he lost in five rounds, in a bout lasting twenty minutes and suffered a broken leg, not entirely uncommon during the brutal English bouts of the late 18th century. His injury was likely caused by a slip from the muddy ground. Many present believed Jackson would have won the bout if not for his unfortunate accident. Likely distressed by his injury, he announced his retirement after his loss, but would return six years later in his most important win.[2][1]‘ (Wikipedia)

In 1795 he defeated Daniel Mendoza to become Champion of All England from which he retired the following year. In 1803 he opened a Boxing Academy in London’s Bond Street. ‘Jackson’s academy was popular with the nobility and gentry and became a profitable business. His friend, the famed English poet George Gordon Byron, known as Lord Byron, an avid boxing fan, related in his diary that he regularly received instruction in boxing from Jackson. Jackson also profited from providing exhibitions for English and foreign lords and celebrities. Included among those for whom he arranged exhibitions were the Emperor of Russia, the King of Prussia, the Prince of Wales, and the Prince of Mecklenburg. Jackson’s introduction of the sport to English and European royalty, made boxing a more admired and to some extent accepted sport in England.[2] Jackson was charitable and held benefits for numerous charities, once raising £114 for a Portuguese town destroyed by the French, and later £132 for the benefit of British prisoners in France.[3]‘ (Wikipedia)

His Pugilistic Club, in which he arranged fights adhering to honest rules, followed in 1814. ‘In 1821, Jackson was asked to supply a force of unarmed men to preserve order at [3] King George IV’s Coronation, where he also served as a page. With his boxing connections, he selected 18 prizefighters to protect the King, and to keep back those unauthorized to attend.[1][3]‘ (Wikipedia)

‘Henry Alfred Pettitt (7 April 1848 – 24 December 1893), was a British actor and dramatist [whose portrait appears in bas-relief on his monument] .

With Augustus Harris, he wrote the play Burmah, produced on Broadway in 1896. With G. R. Sims, he created a substantial body of very successful works, including In the Ranks (1883, 457 performances at the Adelphi Theatre) and The Harbour Lights (1885, 513 performances at the Adelphi). Their Gaiety Theatre musical burlesques included Faust up to date (1888), which remained a hit for several years and coined a new meaning for the phrase “up-to-date”, meaning “abreast” of the latest styles and facts. Their next hit was Carmen up to Data (1890). Both of these were composed by the Gaiety’s music director, Meyer Lutz.’ https://peoplepill.com/people/henry-pettitt/

This evening we dined on Mr Chan’s excellent Hordle Chinese Take Away fare, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank Mendoza Malbec 2019.

Guns ‘N’ Roses

From our bedroom window we are still greeted in the morning by a scented pink climbing rose, sweet little solanum, and ripe crab apples so far eschewed by blackbirds; and from our en suite bathroom Paul’s Scarlet still soaring above the wisteria.

While I up there taking these images

I made several garden view photographs, all featuring the Gazebo.

At ground level, we have golden mushrooms on the stumpery;

a number of thick-pile carpet roses;

and, in the rose garden, Crown Princess Margareta, Shropshire Lad, Absolutely Fabulous, and Mama Mia, all blooming well with burgeoning promise of more to come.

This afternoon I continued reading “The Guns of August”, the first volume of Barbara W. Tuchman’s history of the First World War, which I began yesterday.

This evening we dined on tender roast lamb; Coleman’s mint sauce; creamy mashed potatoes; crisp Yorkshire pudding; firm, tasty, carrots and Brussels sprouts, with meaty gravy. Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Faugeres.

He Flies Like A Bird

Today Nick was mostly painting woodwork.

This afternoon we shopped at Tesco and at Milford on Sea Pharmacy. There were queues at neither outlet.

From Tesco we drove to Milford on Sea via Angel Lane alongside which Jackie parked and I walked a while, photographing

woodland, a mossy oak, a mushroom, and autumn leaves floating on ditch water.

Along the coast road the air was so hazy as to obscure the cliffs of the Isle of Wight and a cruise ship quarantined outside Southampton.

The sea was quite calm, and more than one couple found the weather warm enough to enjoy ice creams from the nearby kiosk.

We moved on to Keyhaven and, from Saltgrass Lane, watched

walkers on the spit,

and were entertained by the aerial gymnastics of an impressive kite surfer.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s wholesome shepherds pie served with al dente carrots, cauliflower, and green beans, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Faugeres.

More Than It Could Chew

First published in 1936, just three years before the outbreak of World War 2, “Eyeless in Gaza” is possibly Aldous Huxley’s most acclaimed work. His familiar themes of the tension between emotional and intellectual lives of his privileged hedonistic characters are explored in depth with his usual insightful knowledge of these self-centred human beings. He also deals with the conflict between warfare and pacifism in a far-sighted way which resonates uncannily with our modern conflict between self-seeking hate and generous love. Sexuality in this work is seldom generous, sometimes manipulative, and often short-lived.

The language and the dialogue is always fluent with much easy, poetic, description, and occasional adventurous episodes.

I finished reading my somewhat careworn first edition today.

The remnants of the green shield logo of Boots Book-lovers’ Library and what looks like a peel-resistant borrowers record inside the back one suggest that my copy began life as an item on those shelves.

Wikipedia tells us that:

‘Boots Book-Lovers’ Library was a circulating library run by Boots the Chemist, a chain of pharmacies in the United Kingdom. It began in 1898, at the instigation of Jesse Boot‘s wife Florence, and closed in 1966, following the passage of the Public Libraries and Museums Act 1964, which required councils to provide free public libraries.

The lending libraries were established within branches of Boots across the country, employing dedicated library staff whose training included examinations on both librarianship and literature.[2] Boots’ libraries displayed books for browsing on open shelves[3] at a time when many public libraries had closed access. A catalogue of the books available was first published in 1904.

Subscriptions were available in Classes A and B, the latter being restricted to borrowing books at least one year old, as well as a premium ‘On Demand’ subscription.[4]Boots Booklovers Library edition of The Saint in Europe

Books carried the ‘green shield’ logo on the front and an eyelet at the top of the spine.[5] Membership tokens were rectangles of ivorine[6]with a string similar to a Treasury tag; the string could be secured through the eyelet so that the token acted as a bookmark.[7]

Boots also briefly reprinted classic books at the start of the 20th century under the imprint ‘Pelham Library’,[8] named after the flagship Boots shop on Pelham Street in Nottingham,[9] and later sold books as ‘Boots the Booksellers’.’

My mother was regularly taking my brother and me to Wimbledon Public Library from the late 1940s, (https://derrickjknight.com/2012/05/25/miss-downs/) so the 1964 Act mentioned above obviously had no effect on our town.

Like dogs marking their territory, previous readers had left deposits throughout the pages. The burn marks on page 17 we assumed had been left by a pipe smoker – they singed through three pages; other small greasy spots, about which it was best not to speculate too much, filtered through an equal number of pages; I wondered whether any of the numerous finger prints of varying hues had been held on any national data bases.

Nick began to make headway on the coloured walls in the sitting room, whilst adding coats to the white and to the ceiling.

We left him to it this afternoon and shopped at Ferndene Farm Shop where there was no queue, then took a short drive into the vicinity of Burley.

I wandered among the woodland on the outskirts. The tree fungus sprouts from the fallen tree. Roughly in the bottom centre of the last picture can be discerned

a bouncing squirrel on its way to climb a small holly carrying a chestnut which looked rather more than it could chew.

The spreading oak tree on the way down the hill into the village now wears a golden cape. The Queen’s Head is Covid-closed.

The pool on Forest Road has completely filled up now, and was reflecting nicely in the late afternoon sun.

Autumn leaves rested beneath the water.

On Bisterne Close a young foal was undertaking an apprenticeship in hedge clipping.

We have become Elizabeth’s bubble; she joined us for dinner which consisted of Jackie’s cheese-topped shepherd’s pie; crunchy cauliflower and carrots; firm green beans; and meaty gravy. Cherry pie and cream was to follow. The Culinary Queen drank Hoegaarden while Elizabeth and I drank more of the Faugeres, which involved opening another bottle.

Somewhat Disconcerting

With paintbrush and roller, after replenishing some of yesterday’s filling, Nick brought light into our sitting room.

Particularly evident was how he has brightened the ceiling;

the walls also glow.

Unfortunately, with the windows open, a number of wasps buzzed around our decorator’s ears. This was more than somewhat disconcerting, so we supplied him with a fly swat and a spray can containing gas lethal to these creatures.

I read another sizeable chunk of “Eyeless in Gaza”

Late this afternoon we visited Milford Supplies to purchase a new starter for the strip light in the library, then drove on to catch

the sunset at Mudeford harbour.

Other photographers, including the couple on the bench and the woman watched by her faithful hound, had the same idea.

Gulls, as always, reflected on the the calm water in the fading light.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s spicy lamb jalfrezi and cream coloured haldi rice with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Faugeres.

Reversing Hokusai’s Wave

Nick continued his meticulous preparation work on the sitting room today. The first four of these pictures show him filling blemishes; in the next he tests his smoothing success; the last shows a filled section of wall. This was all done before we left him to it and travelled to Tyrell’s Ford hotel for lunch with Helen, Bill, Shelly, and Ron, before such a meeting is subjected to the next coronavirus lockdown the day after tomorrow.

We enjoyed congenial company reminiscing and discussing Netflix series, politicians, Covid 19, and suchlike. My choice of main meal was an excellent beef burger served with relish on a wooden plank, and a miniature fish fryer scoop full of well cooked chips. Jackie’s pick was linguini; the others all chose beef (sic) bourguignon. My dessert was apple and blackberry crumble and custard – a popular choice. Jackie and Helen each preferred a rich chocolate thingy. I drank Flack’s Double Drop. The rest of the group drank different beverages and coffee, from which I abstained.

We returned home via

Anna Lane,

continuing to Bennet’s Lane where Jackie parked while I photographed the

effects of the late afternoon sun,

while a solitary plane chugged overhead.

She also allowed me to disembark at Harrow Road, on the other side of Bransgore where I produced more

skyscapes including

this one reminiscent of a reversal of Hokusai’s wave on which I based my logo for Sam’s ocean row, “The Big Sea”.

There was no need for further sustenance this evening.

No More Dado Rails

Although the fierce winds that we have experienced for the last few days continued to pound us for much of the day, it was warm, sunny, and bright, encouraging me to wander round the garden with my camera.

A few trugs were transported, and a few pots blown down;

some trees were being stripped of their foliage,

although others still sported autumn hues.

Flower beds remained reasonably colourful.

The good news of the day is that Nick Hayter was able to start our decorating project on time and that the impending lockdown allows him to work on. Living up to Barry’s recommendation he is a relentless, thorough, worker, and, given the atrocities we inherited he needs to be.

He began today with a zinsser primer on the false ceiling rafters, and progressed to

the momentous removal of the equally fake picture rails, which longer term readers will remember are in fact dado rails – still bearing the supplier’s bar codes – and as such flat topped and therefore useless for picture hooks.

It was later that Nick realised that the original wall paint had not been thinned and consequently simply peeled off like stiff paper.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s spicy lamb jalfrezi and aromatic savoury rice with a plain paratha. The Culinary Queen drank Hoegaarden and I drank Coudougno Faugeres 2019.

In The Line Of Duty

Back in March Nick Hayter was scheduled to decorate our kitchen and sitting room. The first coronavirus lockdown put paid to that. He rebooked this for tomorrow. We are going into another full lockdown on Thursday. We don’t know how much Nick will be able to do in the available time, but, ever optimistic, we spent much of the morning removing nick-knacks from the sitting room.

This afternoon I scanned another batch of colour slides from

Abney Park cemetery produced in

November 2008

and March 2009. John Turpin, writer of “The Magnificent Seven”, is walking down the path in the third picture of the above gallery.

The Victorian fascination with Egyptology is reflected in the iconography of the capitals to the entrance gates and of various lodge lintels.

Selected memorials are these of 18th century hymn writer Isaac Watts; the Rogers Family Tomb; and the policeman, William Frederick Tyler, killed in the line of duty. Unfortunately the black and white image in the book of this third monument incorrectly attributes the memorial to a different gentleman, a member of the fire service.

The story of constable Tyler’s death is told in https://www.londonremembers.com/subjects/tottenham-outrage

as follows:

‘One winter Saturday morning two armed Russian/Latvian anarchists, Paul Hefeld and Jacob Lepidus, attempted to seize the wages’ cash (£80) being delivered to the Schnurmann Rubber Factory in Chesnut Road, Tottenham.  The sound of bullets was heard at the (extremely) nearby police station and officers ran to the site.  The robbers ran away down Chesnut Road, firing at the pursuing policemen; some on foot, some in a car.  Follow the chase on the map at Tottenham-Summerhill Road. At Mitchley Road Hefeld stopped to reload his gun.  One of the pursuing drivers tried to run over the gunmen but only succeeding in crashing the car and injuring those inside.  Ralph Joscelyne, 10 years old, was caught in the cross-fire and killed.  One of the police borrowed a gun from a member of the crowd that had gathered but failed to hit either of the robbers who ran on towards Tottenham Marshes.  Constables Tyler and Newman attempted to cut them off by running behind a tall fence.  Tyler met them at the end of the fence and shouted “Come on, give in, the game’s up.”  But Hefeld shot him in the head.  Constable Newman stayed with the dying Tyler while the gunmen ran on, reaching and crossing the River Lea.  The chase carried on, along the south side of the Banbury Reservoir to Chingford Road where they hijacked a tram.  The police commandeered another tram and 40 officers boarded.  A horse-drawn carriage driven by another officer crashed when Hefeld shot the horse.  Being told there was a police station coming up the gunmen jumped tram and took over a milk cart, by shooting its driver.  They drove this until they crashed it, when they hijacked another horse cart.  They had a crowd of followers led by a motor car carrying armed police who were exchanging fire. Others were on horseback, on bicycles, on foot; some wielding cutlasses, others brandished truncheons. A woman throw a potato. The followers included footballers, labourers, duckshooters and gypsies. Hefeld and Lepidus crashed again at Fulbourne Road and Wadham Road (where the North Circular now is).  They ran towards the River Ching and Lepidus climbed a tall fence.  Hefeld failed to get over and attempted to shot himself but survived (but was not able to continue running, you’ll be relieved to hear).  Lepidus ran on into Hale End Road and into the end house, Oak Cottage, where lived the Rolstone family.  They got out as the house was surrounded by police and a gun battle ensued during which Lepidus successfully shot himself.  This was near the Royal Oak pub where none of the buildings of that date remain. We have read that the pub itself was built on the site of Oak Cottage.

The above is, mainly, a condensed version of the story told at History by the Yard and the detailed description given by Wikipedia who summarise with: “The incident lasted more than two hours, covered a distance of six miles with an estimated 400 rounds fired by Helfeld and Lepidus. Twenty-five casualties were reported, two fatal and several serious.“  The two deaths were Constable Tyler and the little boy, Ralph.  Lepidus died at the scene and Hefeld (or ‘Helfeld’) died in hospital on 12 February, both at their own hands.

5 minute Youtube with photos of many of the buildings involved.  12 minute film with recreation of the event.’

Readers clicking on the Youtube link will be warned that it may not be still available. It is.

Ralph Joscelyne is also buried in Abney Park, but I did not see his grave – the Youtube film shows why.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s wholesome chicken, bacon, and vegetable stoup; fresh bread and butter; and savoury sausage rolls, with which I finished the Corbieres and the Culinary Queen abstained.

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