Month: January 2023

To Catch A Worm

I spent much of the morning recovering pictures for https://derrickjknight.com/2022/10/29/nine-years-on/

Immediately after lunch we took drive into the forest where

a weak sun photographed over Charles’s Lane

and through trees at Ogden North feebly attempted to pierce cold cloud cover.

Earlier, Martin had been stymied in his work on the patio by the frozen cementing material. He left after

cutting and carrying from the Back Drive the paving slabs he had oped to fix in place.

The knitted robin decorating the Tiptoe post-box on Wootton Road, knowing where he would land, having risen early enough to catch a juicy worm, donned a breast bib to compete with the Royal Mail red,

A string of ponies gathered outside The Rising Sun at Bashley.

Looking across the valley beneath the aforementioned Ogdens North frost still lay on the roofs, while a pillar of bonfire smoke made its way to merge with the clouds.

A pair of field horses sported rugs to put their unfashionable companion to shame,

while others simply blended with their golden hay.

This evening we all dined on oven fish and chips, sliced pickled gherkins, pickled onions, onion rings, and mushy peas, with which Jackie and I both drank Trentino Pinot Grigio 2021.

Fire And Ice

Early this afternoon we received a further oil-fired radiator from Amazon. This had kept us in until 4 p.m. when we ventured out into another cold-blue-sky day in search of a forest sunset.

We drove up Holmsley Passage turning right into Clay Hill at the top.

There the golden disc flirted with trees and clouds,

burnishing the trees above their reflections in the pool home to mallards,

past which a solitary grey pony emerged from the dingy dusk.

Along Bisterne Close the fiery sun slowly slipped into indigo clouds above icy, reflecting, recently filled concavities.

Further verges along the close contained some of the many lingering ice patterns in the woods and moorland, featuring leaves above and below them.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s wholesome chicken stewp with fresh crusty bread. She drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Shiraz.

No Pictures On This Post

Our boiler repair was short-lived. Once more it is not working. This time there is no light on the reset button. Another visit will happen at 8.30 a.m. on Monday.

Later this morning Richard of Kitchen Makers sealed the leak in the kitchen tap now that his suppliers have sent him the correct fittings.

Regular readers will know that I have only been able to post pictures from August to December with generous time and help given by SueW of Nan’s Farm. I have e-mailed the images and she has returned them as links for embedding. They don’t work with the new site, so we are adding them to the relevant posts which I first place in the WP media file; last night I completed that of 31st October and this afternoon of 30th – working backwards.

After lunch I posted https://derrickjknight.com/2023/01/20/droll-tales-4-old-nicks-heir/

Elizabeth visited this afternoon, bringing two oil-filled radiators, and stayed for dinner which consisted of Jackie’s tasty and wholesome chicken and vegetable stewp with flavoursome garlic bread. No beverages were required.

Droll Tales 4 Old Nick’s Heir

The fourth story in Balzac’s first Decade of his Droll Tales is a classic one of wit deciding which of three potential legatees would inherit a wealthy sum.

The clerical protagonist has earned his money in sinful ways disguised as innocent activities with plentiful double entendre and metaphor.

There is no illustration in The Folio Society Edition featured with the title as Old Nick’s Heir.

The Devil’s Heir is the title chosen by the publisher of

Doré’s pictures;

The Devil’s Lodging is the choice of the publisher of

those of Jean de Bosschère.

Further details of each of these publications is given in https://derrickjknight.com/2023/01/06/droll-tales-1/

Stretching For Holly

Ronan of Tom Sutton Heating spent the morning fixing the boiler problem which turned out to be water in the oil; it seems it was not the drop in temperature which had stopped it working, but the very heavy rain which has got in somewhere. To be more sure Jackie has ordered a tank drier bag from Amazon.

The rain having desisted, much of the floodwater has receded and the icicles melted, although , on this still chilly but dry day ice not reached by the low, weak, sun remains, as we discovered on a forest drive.

Boldre Bridge overlooked a rippling stream, still bearing ice, and reflecting trees and fenceposts.

Nearby, Rodlease Lane still bore arboreal images in pools disturbed by passing vehicles.

Long shadows of a woman and a donkey stretched across the banks of Hatchet Pond and the potholed drive to it;

gulls admired their reflections in the remnants of its ice, while a paddling coot looked on.

The drift paddock on Furzey Lane reflected on the icy pool surrounding it, where

patterns remained unthawed.

A pony reaching up for holly in Ran’s Wood was lit by the lowering sun, which had

set by the time we arrived at Milford on Sea..

Later we dined on Cook’s very tasty vegetarian lasagna brought by Elizabeth last week, and Jackie’s equally flavoursome Chicken and vegetable stewp with delicious garlic bread brought by our sister from the same source. I drank more of the Shiraz and no-one else did.

In Need Of Milking

Martin’s cementing material was frozen in the bags this morning which he consequently spent

cutting out the shapes he would not be able to firmly set in place until Sunday.

Note the ice chips on the covered paving.

Ellie, who has now mastered the art of hand to mouth coordination,

was mesmerised by the open fire.

Martin told me that the roadsides were festooned with icicles formed by the showers of spray thrown up by vehicles during Monday’s deluge. Jackie and I therefore took a trip to investigate.

Some years ago now, a teenage girl was killed in a car crash along Hordle Lane.

Some soft toys still linger in the trees in her memory. One had fallen among the icicles by the roadside.

Further icicles and ice patterns decorated the corner of Woodcock Lane and Silver Street

along which these wintry decorations dangled from trees, draped verges along which they were reflected in the gutters, and rose from grasses on stumps.

We drove along Bashley Cross Road to Ferndene Farm shop to buy some eggs. A fallen branch bore dripping icicles.

Sway Road hosted various ice sculptures reflected in the gutters,

some dripping from a fence post like the udders of a cow in need of milking.

Further along this road autumn red-gold merged with winter’s snow-white.

This evening we dined on bangers and mash; fried bacon, tomatoes and mushrooms; boiled carrots, Brussels sprouts, and cauliflower, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank Coonawarra Shiraz 2020.

Log Burning

Jackie giggled as, having boiled a kettle to wash, I emerged from the kitchen this morning. I couldn’t imagine what she was laughing at.

I then remembered photographing her in her Swaddling Clothes https://derrickjknight.com/2022/12/17/swaddling-clothes/ when our boiler was not functioning a month ago. It seems only fair, really.

Several years ago now I had chopped and sawn quite a few logs for our own woodpile. Because of all the rain experienced recently I had thought these were too wet to burn in our grate. As I sought to supplement the logs bought yesterday I discovered that some of these now well seasoned items were dry, and are now burning away merrily.

Sam Had The Answer tells of that material cut from our own garden, and, incidentally, a bonfire from much earlier.

The header picture today shows just one pile of the cuttings from the overgrown garden we took on and logs in a wheelbarrow on the Back Drive as it then was.

This evening we dined on tender roast chicken and Jackie’s colourful savoury rice, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Syrah.

Fire And Flood

Once again coinciding with a drop in outside temperature our boiler ceased functioning yesterday. We have a service booked for Thursday, 19th. and will manage until then.

With no Christmas decorations now wishing to remain undisturbed all round the fireplace and mantelpiece, we decided to light

the open fire in the sitting room.

We therefore drove to Streets in Brockenhurst to purchase coal, logs, firelighters, and two hot water bottles.

After a long spell of overnight rain there is normally a narrow puddle in the gutter outside our front entrance. Today this almost reached the middle of Christchurch Road and a long way down it.

As we watched other vehicles sailing past, and dodged their spray while waiting for a gap for us to enter the road and turn right, little did we know how much further flooding we would encounter.

The rest of the A337 stimulated spray waves at numerous locations.

For the first time in our decade here, the ford at Brockenhust was closed to traffic, the stream presumably being too deep for safety.

The lawn beside Meerut Road had become a reflective lake;

as had Balmer Lawn because its stretch of Highland Water

had burst both banks, its fast-moving currents sending squirming logs on their way until caught by other obstacles.

This evening we dined on barbecue spare ribs with Jackie’s flavoursome savoury rice. I drank more of the Syrah. The others didn’t.

Jigsaw Pieces

No doubt because of the lack of cloud cover, albeit much colder, Martin was able once more to tackle the patio paving project in bright sunshine this morning.

Having mixed his cement on the back drive he wheeled each load

down to the patio, smoothed it, and laid the slabs on it.

His pattern was soon beginning to shape up.

In the meantime Jackie and I took a short forest drive after shopping at Tesco.

Ponies were once more in evidence on the moorland at East Boldre.

This one was practicing their technique of flattening unwanted bracken in order to reach the grass beneath.

A sharp shower put a temporary stop to Martin’s work this afternoon, but at least we were able to see its colour when wet.

Contrary to appearances, our friend does not spend time texting friends. His pattern is worked out on his home computer.

He has transferred it to his phone to which he refers while placing the jigsaw parts because his printer doesn’t work. If he sends me an e-mail of the pattern I will be able to print it – mine currently produces incorrect colours, but for his purposes that won’t matter.

This evening we dined on smoked haddock cheese-centred fish cakes, Jackie’s piquant cauliflower cheese, and peas, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank Valle Central Reserva Privado Syrah 2021.

Droll Tales 3

The wind and the rain returned for the best part of the day which I spent on more reading of Balzac.

The third story of the second Decade of his Droll Tales, with the slightly varying titles shown beside the relevant name of the illustrators shown below, is a short tale of a marriage arranged for money; how the beautiful daughter turned it to her advantage; and the ultimate outcome. Further details of the publications are given in https://derrickjknight.com/2023/01/06/droll-tales-1/

Just as he was telling himself he had been fooled there was the maid to open the door to him

King’s Darling. Mervyn Peake;

The King’s Sweetheart. Gustave Doré;

The King’s Mistress. Jean de Bosschère.

This evening we dined on roast lamb; roast pork with crisp crackling; roast parsnips and potatoes, including softer sweet ones; firm broccoli and crunchy carrots, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Shiraz.