May 2022 – Page 4 – derrickjknight

The House In The Wood

This afternoon Jackie, Flo, Elizabeth, and I visited The House in the Wood garden outside Beaulieu, under the National Gardens Scheme. The photographs can speak for themselves, although each one is titled in the gallery.

Beside Hatchet Lane on our return home we encountered our first foals of the season:

both donkeys,

and ponies, one of whom had some difficulty when attempting to suckle.

After the visit Elizabeth dropped off at her home en route and then joined us for dinner, which consisted of Jackie’s succulent sausages in red wine; creamy mashed potatoes; crunchy carrots; and firm broccoli and cauliflower. My wife and sister drank the last of the Picpoul de Pinet; I finished the Fitou; and Flo drank water.

Whose Core?

After a visit to Ferndene Farm shop this morning Jackie drove me into the forest, where, as in Beckley Common Road,

posts protecting verges along lanes are being planted to keep off the eagerly anticipated summer influx of visiting vehicles.

Field horses along this road are already wearing their fly masks protecting eyes and ears from their own less welcome visitors.

I am not sure what crop we can expect to grace this opposite field.

A fairly widespread forest feature is the random apple tree such as these at Thorney Hill,

with its gorse-gold landscapes, and in

Forest Road . We could easily have focussed on many more today. Whenever we do we always speculate on the muncher whose apple core provided the seed for others to enjoy. Was it lobbed from a car?, tossed on a walk?, or chucked from a folding picnic chair?

Forest Road woodland also contains pink-hued hawthorn, otherwise known as may. We are enjoined ‘ne’er [to]cast a clout until May be out’, prompting a time-honoured controversy. A clout is an archaic word for an item of clothing; and cast means shed, as in take off. The proverb refers to putting aside our winter clothing. There is, however, no consensus as to whether the upper case month of May is meant, or the lower case may tree. If the old saw (proverb) refers to May, then ‘be out’ means ‘has ended’; if may, ‘be out’ signifies ‘has bloomed’. This may never be settled. Whichever is correct, today I wore shirt-sleeves, sans undershirt and sans jacket – with neither the English nor the American vest. So, with either interpretation, I have it covered.

Donkeys shedding winter coats cropped the verges on our return road out of Brockenhurst, while ponies kept clear of the tarmac.

This evening we dined on pork spare ribs and Jackie’s savoury rice with which she drank Hoegaarden, Flo drank Kombucha ginger and lemon, and I drank L’Ayrolle Fitou 2019.

A Little Dead-Heading

Before Martin arrived today, the Head Gardener’s Walk had disappeared from view.

This is how he left it.

He reshaped a tree in need of a trim,

giving the Viburnum Plicatum beneath it more room to breathe;

and mowed the lawn as usual, while

I managed a little dead-heading of poppies like these in the Chilean Lantern Tree Bed, also containing orange calendula and bluebells.

This evening Flo dined on succulent roast pork, crisp roast potatoes and Yorkshire pudding; cauliflower, carrots, and green beans, with which she abstained. Jackie and I enjoyed the hotter paprika pork with her flavoursome savoury rice, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Bordeaux.

The Intermediary

This morning I posted https://derrickjknight.com/2022/05/05/a-knights-tale-131-bridgetown-part-2/

The mattress that Becky’s friend Jacob delivered recently for Flo’s room is to replace

the original hardly used Jensen mattress which our daughter is to sell on e-Bay. Here is a selection from our granddaughter’s detailed pictures.

These images are from Jackie’s Canon SX740 HS, as is the photograph to follow. Whenever I try to put them into Pictures I have to search for them out of date order. Becky realised that this was because the date adjustment had never been set in the camera. She corrected the omission and took a test picture. This was fine, but she then pushed her luck.

She attempted to explain that because my printer is wireless Jackie’s camera could talk to it on Wi-fi, so the printer could reproduce the image without having to send it to the computer.

I rapidly lost the will to live, and used the computer as usual as an intermediary.

This evening Becky returned home to Southbourne and Jackie, Flo , and I dined at Lal Quilla. Mrs Knight chose Chicken Shaslik as her main course; our granddaughter’s was lamb korma; and mine King Prawn Naga. We shared mushroom and pilau rices, sag paneer, and keema naan. Jackie and I drank Hoegaarden and Flo drank J20.

A Knight’s Tale (131: Bridgetown Part 2)

There follows the last stretch of my walk to Bridgetown.

Bougainvillea continued to spread its various shades of magenta and pink along the roadsides. In the first of these two pictures, the rambling plant seeks the protection of the thorns of the plant to which it clings.

Others ramble around buildings that have seen better days.

I passed a slender schoolgirl complete with backpack on her way to her classes. Her hair had received the typical close attention that the turn-out of all these young people displayed.

Although some of the roadside buildings remained rather unkempt,

others were smarter,

and even grander.

Those steps, and the increasing traffic informed me that I was nearing the Bajan capital. Was the young woman with her arms folded pondering boarding the taxi/bus?

Had she done so, she would probably know what offence the hapless driver went on to commit.

Other flowers in the hedgerows and gardens were frangipanis

and hibiscuses.

By the time I reached Bridgetown in the heat of the day I wondered whether I should, like this woman, have taken one of the rare buses, or at least heeded the advice to start out at 5 a.m.

As previously mentioned I did ride back.

To Feather The Nest

Jackie and I drove to Abbotsfield Garden in Bennett’s Lane, Burley, which was open under the National Gardens Scheme, where private gardens are open to the public.

Each of these pictures is titled in the gallery.

Jackie photographed me while I was going around with my camera and she

was seated with cake at a table beneath a fine red Japanese maple.

She also pictured her lemon drizzle cake and the NGS programme; potted succulents, bedded ferns and

another garden scene with an emphasis on the camouflaged shed housing the pump

serving the carp pool

which reflected

a splendid clump of Arum lilies, while photographing which, I also pictured

the camouflaged pump shed.

Looking up I watched a small bird bearing a large item of plumage

until making off to feather the nest.

This evening we dined on two prawn preparations, namely hot and spicy and tempura; spring rolls; beef in black bean sauce; served with Jackie’s tasty savoury rice topped with a thick omelette, with which the Culinary Queen drank Hoegaarden, I drank more of the Bordeaux, and Becky drank Diet Coke.

Grooming

This afternoon I finally managed to post completed forms to Mum’s Bank and to the Premium Bonds Centre in order to release funds for distribution to the legatees.

I popped them into the normally decorated box on Pilley Hill. No doubt the anonymous knitter is between tribute designs.

Buttercups and daisies carpet the bank behind the letter box.

Apple blossom blooms beside the lake,

which bears water buttercups and reflections.

Ponies, including a pair mutually grooming, occupied Bull Hill. Note that flies, on this heavily overcast, warmer, day have begun to descend on these creatures.

One cow alongside Beaulieu Road admired its reflection while across the road another undertook its own lonely grooming.

A group of ponies disturbing the traffic at East Boldre included one animal clearly too short to keep out of mud when entering a pool.

This evening Jackie produced a superb roast pork meal including crunchy crackling; crisp Yorkshire pudding and roast potatoes; tasty sage and onion stuffing; firm cauliflower, broccoli and carrots; tender cauliflower leaves; meaty gravy, and Bramley apple sauce, with which she drank Hoegaarden, I drank Calvet Prestige Bordeaux 2020, and Flo drank water. Creamy rice pudding was to follow.

Spot The Ball

After a Tesco shop this afternoon Jackie drove me into the forest.

Along Holmsley Road we had plenty of time to watch the ponies inside an elongated Emlor Polo horse box as the driver executed an impressive reverse.

Daises covered the lumpy terrain of Mill Lane with its reflecting pools; its gorse enhanced woodland; and its decaying fallen tree limbs.

The grassland levelled out enabled these family groups to play cricket with a tennis racket and ball. Enlarging these shots will enable readers to enter the Spot the Ball competition exemplified by the last three images. Give yourselves extra points for spotting number two.

This lane forms a T junction with Lyndhurst Road, the verges of which one of our familiar groups of ponies kept tidy until they became bored and decided to wind up the traffic.

From Lyndhurst Road we turned into Forest Road where water buttercups pierce the layers of pondweed in a pool; mossy fallen branches make their way to merging with the soil beneath;

and ponies crop the grass beside a forded stream

which an escorted little boy investigates with a fishing net.

This evening we dined on oven fish and chips, mushy peas, pickled onion and cucumbers, with which the three older members of the household drank Picpoul de Pinet white wine 2020.

The Last Forms

This afternoon I posted https://derrickjknight.com/2022/05/01/a-knights-tale-130-bridgetown-part-1/

Later we drove to Elizabeth’s where we spent several hours with her; our other sister, Jacqueline; sister-in-law Frances; our brother Joseph and sister-in-law, Angela.

The family meeting was of twofold purpose. First we transferred the picture of our great grandmother Elizabeth Franks, as featured in https://derrickjknight.com/2019/07/22/beckys-research/ to Jacqueline’s car for her to take it home to Boston in Lincolnshire, because she had a fond attachment to it in her childhood and now has a house large enough to accommodate it.

Joseph and I, as Mum’s executors, then completed the final forms from her bank and from the Premium Bonds department in order finally to obtain probate funds.

We then enjoyed a splendid pork casserole produced by Elizabeth with assistance on vegetables, namely potato wedges, red cabbage, cauliflower, carrots, and parsnips all cooked to perfection, by sous-chefs Jacqueline and Frances. Jacqueline produced an excellent mixed fruit crumble and bananas and custard, reminiscent of our childhood. These were served with ice cream.

Jackie doesn’t appear in these photographs because she held the camera.

A Knight’s Tale (130: Bridgetown Part 1)

One morning I walked the ten miles from our hotel to Bridgetown along what passed for a main road. Whenever I checked directions I was told I should be on a bus. Not that there appeared to be many bus stops. If you wanted a ride you leapt into the road and gesticulated. It may have been marginally safer to have been riding on one of these ramshackle vehicles which went careering along the winding roads than to have spent my time jumping into bushes to avoid them. I am not sure. If there was a speed limit no-one adhered to it. Actually I did ride back and the journey was remarkably comfortable. Unfortunately I had wasted valuable time standing in the wrong queue. A certain amount of local knowledge was required to station oneself correctly.

Along these roads people lived in chattel houses. These are portable homes, stout, and some very old. Although people didn’t seem to worry about outside maintenance, the insides looked spotless and the adults and schoolchildren who emerged from them were beautifully turned out; womens’ dresses and children’s uniforms vying with the display of the ubiquitous

bougainvillea, frangipani, and hibiscus.

This street scene shows the sign for a roadside bar; a well cared-for church, and typical chattel houses,

one with some kind of lean-to constructed of weathered corrugated iron, which was a common roofing material.

The gardens of some of these houses contained car wrecks.

Other occupants preferred shrubs,

such as this bougainvillea trained around a porch behind a little picket fence.

and along which rampant buses tore.

The children who emerged from these simply constructed homes were clad in crisp, clean, uniforms and certainly were not ‘creeping like snail, unwillingly to school’ (William Shakespeare).