November 2021 – Page 2 – derrickjknight

Fitting Perfectly

Connor and Josh completed their work on our floor this afternoon.

The last stages had them working on different locations alongside each other, and finally together as the work was completed in the vestibule.

Connor’s fitting of the tiles round the WC bowl and macerator; and his joins at the corner of the doors fit perfectly, and the link between the hall and vestibule is a seamless operation.

After spending some time putting things back together again, I scanned the next three of Charles Keeping’s exemplary illustrations to ‘Dombey and Son’,

‘There was a labyrinth of scaffolding raised all round the house’

‘The afflicted foreigner remained clasping Miss Tox to his heart’

‘Mrs Skewton smirked at her cadaverous self in the glass’

This evening we dined on second helpings of Jackie’s wholesome, well-filled beef and onion pie with accompanying vegetables, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank Patrick Chodot Fleurie 2019.

A Knight’s Tale (69: Soho’s Seamy Side)

It was probably meths that the dead man was drinking.

On Sunday mornings, after the wild life of the night before, Soho was generally calm and civilised. The small garden squares, like

Soho Square in which a visitor photographed me in October 2017, were tranquil places in which to settle with a book.

In 1975 it was in one of these that I encountered another such imbiber, who settled himself beside me, picked up my specs which, never needing them for reading, I had placed on the previously empty bench, and menacingly told me what he could do with them. I politely asked for their return. A bottle of meths in his other hand, he stretched out the arm holding my glasses and proceeded to simulate crushing. I grabbed his arm. With dismay I found I could not move it. He calmly put down my optical aids, staggered to his feet, and wandered off chuckling.

Perhaps equally alarming was the night two alleged soldiers rang our doorbell. It was not unusual that male visitors would seek an available woman in our yard. I told these two that they were out of luck. One became seriously threatening. Keeping my hand on the door, I responded with my usual quietly determined tone. His friend warned me not to take him on because he would kill me. Quick as a flash, I slammed the door. Sometimes I can exercise discretion.

On another occasion I discovered a gentleman exploring drawers in our bedroom. He was unable to tell me what he was doing there. Fortunately he was more scared than I was, so he did not resist when I escorted him down the stairs and back outside.

It was Jessica who received an offer she could easily refuse. It was not unusual for ladies of the night to avail themselves of the corners of the yard for various cosmetic or clothing purposes. On one instance it was relief that one such visitor sought in the very corner in which the man had died. My then partner called out of the window explaining that this was not a public lavatory. The woman offered to urinate in Jessica’s mouth.

Our relationship with De Hems, the pub whose rear entrance virtually faced our front door, was very good. One night, however, a very noisy party continued well after closing time. I rang the back door and asked for the decibels to be lowered. The reply was that the event was being held by the local CID branch of the Metropolitan Police. I said that if the row did not stop I would enquire as to whether the uniformed branch would be interested in a complaint. Silence ensued almost immediately.

We did see the seamy side of Soho, but I will not dwell on it again.

A Masterclass

This morning Connor and Josh prepared the boards they had laid yesterday by “feathering’ them with a mixed cement-like material and leaving it to dry while they went on to another job leaving me in charge of their powerful

heater.

The skim was then smoothed in preparation for

fitting the tiles, which is what they call the laminate strips, onto a further layer of glue.

The joins around all the corners and skirting boards of the rooms could not be tighter.

When they finish tomorrow Connor will have laid all the floors throughout the ground level of our house. The first image above shows how today’s work runs seamlessly through to the kitchen; the second through to the sitting room.

As we watched Connor showing Josh the ropes, we considered that we were witnessing a masterclass.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s succulent beef and onion pie in crisp short crust pastry; firm boiled potatoes, Brussels sprouts, and cauliflower; and tender cabbage, with meaty gravy. The Culinary Queen drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Merlot.

“Would You Like To Photograph Connor Doing Something In The Bathroom?”

Connor and Josh from Crestwood arrived promptly this morning to carry out the first stage of the final flooring project. We are most fortunate to have enjoyed Connor’s work on all three ground floor jobs.

First the original floorboards were smoothed and swept.

Some of these required screwing down to form a flat surface for

boards carried in by Josh, measured, largely by Connor, and fitted neatly to form a base for the final strips of Karndean Pale Limed Oak textured laminate which have served well in kitchen and sitting room.

Connor in particular is most obliging when it comes to suggesting pictures. In the first of the screwing pictures above, he held the pose for my benefit after he had finished the task. When asked by Josh whether I would like to come and photograph the expert doing something in the bathroom this didn’t seem something I should refuse. What he did was measure, cut, and fit like a glove a template for the boards.

The boards were then nailed flat.

A smooth screed was settled over the concrete floor in the vestibule, and left to dry overnight. As can be seen, Richard’s new door will have to be cut. He had anticipated this possibility. The men will continue tomorrow.

This evening we dined on succulent roast lamb; crisp roast potatoes and parsnips; firm carrots and cauliflower; tender runner beans; and mint sauce, followed by ice cream. Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Merlot.

A Little Light Music

While I was seated in the sitting room this morning, blinded by bright sunshine reflected from Jessie’s present of a solar light creating its own moon and star-scape, I became inspired to wander round the house playing

a little light music.

After lunch I posted https://derrickjknight.com/2021/11/21/a-knights-tale-68-the-mans-fingers-still-clutched-the-ball/

Otherwise much of the day was spent clearing my desk and other areas of our entrance hall, in readiness for the start on the floor tomorrow.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s Special Foo Yung; Angela’s flavoursome spring rolls; and Co-op pork spare ribs, followed by mince pies and ice cream; with which Jackie drank more of the non-alcoholic sparkling rosé while I drank Pierre Jaurant Special Edition Merlot 2020.

A Knight’s Tale (68: The Man’s Fingers Still Clutched The Ball)

Michael and Matthew (clearly in the midst of a perennial growth spurt) often played soccer in Horse & Dolphin Yard. The Ball, the subject of this next story was not a deflated football. To take these photographs I must have been standing outside the door of our flat.

On another occasion two gentlemen, to my left, somewhat the worse for having consumed a quantity of the cheapest possible intoxicating liquid, sprawled against each other in a corner on the floor. Michael and his friend Eddie were playing with a tennis ball. Soon, my son came running up the stairs to inform me that one of the imbibers had taken their ball. Naturally I descended into the yard to persuade the gent to give up his spoils.

The man’s fingers still clutched the ball, even though he was now dead.

I called the police who arrived quite quickly. The officer in charge, whilst arranging for disposal of the body, instructed me to send Michael inside because he shouldn’t be seeing this. It didn’t seem politic to argue, so I quietly suggested to the fifteen-year-old that he would get a better view from an upstairs window. Up he went.

There were no blue and white tapes applied to keep out sightseers, and no chalk outlines were made. Clearly this was not really considered to be the scene of a crime. Except possibly the snatching of the ball. In the circumstances, I was prepared to overlook that.

Like all of Chinatown, the yard looks rather different now.

Hollow Post On Fire

I’m doing my best to rest my right shoulder today, which severely limited my angles of focus as I held my 35 mm lens to photograph

some garden views on my way to examine

the last of the Head Gardener’s incineration, to which I could make no contribution. The pictures show the final demise of a hollow wisteria arbour post.

I also cannot type much, but the images are all labelled in the galleries.

This afternoon Joe and Angela visited for my brother to sign the final Probate Application forms and to have dinner with us; Elizabeth joined us later and we enjoyed a few pleasant hours together. Angela brought Jackie a beautiful pearl and green gemstone necklace from China, various plant pots, and some of her authentic spring rolls.

The Culinary Queen provided what our sister-in-law called a Saturday, as oppose to a Sunday, roast lamb, roast potatoes and parsnips, Yorkshire pudding, multi-coloured carrots, green Brussels sprouts, white cauliflower – all cooked to perfection – with tasty gravy, followed by a fruit meringue and mince pies. Elizabeth, Angela, and I drank Montepulciano d’Abruzzo 2020, Joseph drank Kopparberg alcohol free cider, and Jackie drank alcohol free Nozeco; the last two produced by Angela. Elizabeth brought the red wine.

Traffic Control Duties

On the morning of a very dull day we cleared much more of the wisteria arbour. We have now realised that the plant itself held the posts in check, thus protecting the greenhouse and the potted plants. Jackie carefully extricated the beams from the clutches of the heavily pruned wisteria, and, apart from a couple returning the security service,

we transported them to the stack we have at the far end of the garden beside the orange shed. The very long one required two of us to carry it. On the way along the Gazebo Path I lost my balance and fell to the ground. My unharmed right elbow landed on the border stone and sent a shock up my arm to my shoulder. After lying on my back for a while I managed to get to my feet with the aid of a chair Jackie brought me. I shifted another couple of beams then called it a day. My shoulder hurts so I am looking after it.

After lunch we drove to Streets ironmongers in Brockenhurst where Jackie bought firelighters and a few other items. We continued further into the forest.

Despite the pewter dome placed over the autumn colours of the woodland, they were not to be dimmed.

Evidence of the very recent breaking of a splendid beech tree was presented in the form of recently sawn logs and their dust around the roots.

Ponies at East Boldre were on

hedge clipping,

grass cutting, and traffic control duties.

The waterlogged corner at St Leonards Road still provides cold soup for the animals.

This evening we dined on pork spare ribs, hot and spicy prawns, and Jackie’s flavoursome omelette-topped savoury rice with which she finished the Chardonnay and I finished the Douro.

A Knight’s Tale (67: “Don’t Turn Round”)

Following the captured boy featured in my last episode I found another reason for a foray into neighbouring premises.

As shown in this very small header picture taken from Wikipedia, Horse and Dolphin Yard is entered beneath an extension of the corner building which spans the De Hems pub and what, in those days was a blue cinema. In the room above, Chinese men played Mah Jongg whilst Michael and his friend Eddie played football in the yard. The window to the room where the men played was usually open, and the clattering of the tiles went on all night. We were quite used to it so it wasn’t a problem. One day one of the boys kicked the ball through the window. It came back slashed. This rather upset me, so, carrying the deflated rubber, I marched round into Gerrard Street, steaming. These buildings are veritable rabbit warrens, so I had to find the room. I did this by entering an open door and wending my way up stairs and through dingy corridors full of doors containing individual yale locks. The clattering of tiles led me to my goal. Football in hand I strode in. The room was bare, with a few chairs against an unpapered wall. In the centre was the games table which contained what seemed a great deal of currency notes piled up by the tiles. It was surrounded by Chinese men who met my question ‘who did this?’ with determined silence. David, one of the oriental gentlemen who was very friendly in the pub remained deadpan when I appealed directly to him. After several repetitions and no alteration in the stony faces, I hurled the ball into the centre of the table scattering both money and tiles. As I turned round and marched away, the hairs stood up on the back of my neck. I realised I had probably been asking for trouble. ‘Don’t turn round. Don’t turn round’, I said to myself. Miraculously I was unmolested, and Matthew and I have been able to dine out on the story ever since.

Really Faster Broadband

A Kelly telephone engineer visited at 7.50 a.m. this morning to install the new faster Broadband. Max of Peacock Computers had not been told, and, of course, wasn’t likely to be available at that time. I was forced to dash upstairs in my dressing gown and don some clothes.

The plan had been that Max would meet the engineer at the house with the new router with which to set up our service. Peacock’s man phoned the supplier at lunchtime when he learned what had happened. Less than an hour later he arrived with the router and worked his magic.

First he activated the Broadband and checked that all was well.

Then he synchronised the TV and the laptops.

In the meantime, Jackie cleared more of the wisteria and

trimmed Paul’s Scarlet rose.

I had moved the patio chairs to their winter quarters between our house and the fence shared with North Breeze.

All today’s photographs uploaded like a dream.

This gave me the confidence to scan another five of Charles Keeping’s inimitable illustrations to ‘Dombey and Son’.

The passive desolation of disuse was everywhere silently manifest’

‘Florence wept long and bitterly’

‘The shutters were not yet taken down’

‘The major wafted a kiss to Cleopatra’

‘An old, worn, yellow, nodding woman, huddled up, like a slovenly bundle’

Although these pages uploaded swiftly and smoothly, I struggled to entitle the images. I am assuming that that remains a WordPress glitch.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s very savoury rice topped with a fluffy omelette; and two preparations of prawns, namely hot and spicy and tempura. The Culinary Queen drank more of the Chardonnay while I drank more of the Douro.