Month: December 2023

Fearing For The Weeping Birch

With the overnight gale force winds of Storm Pia still raging around the garden

this fallen planted pot was the least of the damage inflicted.

I have previously featured a pittosporum allowed by our predecessors to grow into a tree. This has now come crashing down

crushing an arch spanning the Dead End Path, and no doubt destroying hanging baskets which we can no longer see,

because the upper branches and their foliage now block the path.

This brings me to the Weeping Birch which lost all its leaves in the very hot summer spell, and looked vulnerable as its now naked limbs groped quivering in the gusts.

This evening we all dined on Jackie’s classic cottage pie with a sautéed potato topping; crunchy carrots, and firm Brussels sprouts, with which she drank Peroni and I drank Chilean Valle Central Cabernet Sauvignon 2022

Quirky Cruets

Late this cooler but drier morning Jackie drove me to another pleasurable and progressive Chiropractic session with Eloise,

after which we brunched at The Quench in Station Road, New Milton.

Both sides of the internal picture have been cropped to respect privacy. Every customer was well behaved.

Here are normal daily menus and the very reasonably priced Festive Lunch one.

Various delicious looking cakes are displayed for purchase.

One shelf contains sandwiches ready to be turned to toasties.

Walls are decorated with such as framed railway posters from an earlier age; the establishment’s Covid Pandemic Business Hero Award; and an array of clocks set to display times from various locations throughout the world.

Ingredients for meals are sourced locally: the eggs are Fluffets, from a nearby couple who also supply Hockey’s Farm Shop – as can be seen the chef knows just how to fry them; the sausages, and quite likely the bacon, are from Danestream Farm Shop. Needless to say it was Jackie who enjoyed the fried eggs on granary, and I who tucked into the Naked Breakfast.

You may have noticed the two camel cruets at the corners of the laminated menu card. When Jackie asked if we could buy them the very friendly and informative owner said that they were not for sale, but could be exchanged for any equally quirky that customers would like to offer. These are a few examples of similar sets.

Because Jackie’s little camera makes a much better job of these interior close-ups than does mine she has produced all today’s pictures. Some might suggest that it is the photographer, not her tools.

This evening we all dined on Jackie’s pasta arrabbiata sprinkled with Parmesan cheese with which she drank Peroni, and I finished the Sicilian red wine.

Romeo And Juliet

On another very overcast day of relentless steady rain I stayed indoors and scanned the illustrations to

Here is the front board and the title page. This book does not carry a date, but I think it would have been published in about 1912.

Here we have the frontispiece and the illustration to the PROLOGUE. Each coloured plate throughout the book is protected by clean, undamaged, tissue.

A black and white drawing opens each of the five acts.

The plates for Act I;

for Act II;

Act III;

Act IV;

and Act V.

Further descriptions of each picture are featured in the galleries. I know that some readers have been having difficulty scrolling through these, but for Jackie at least these were miraculously resolved this morning.

It would seem superfluous for me to add a review of the widely known and much analysed work of our greatest playwright.

This evening we all dined on piri-piri or lemon chicken according to taste; creamy mashed white and sweet potato; fried onions; and tender green beans, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Nero d’Avola.

A Replacement Card

On a rather warmer but grey morning Jackie drove me to the Chiropractic for another enjoyable session of forceful pressure and gentle manipulation from the powerful fingers of Eloise, after which I carried out a little Christmas shopping on New Milton’s Station Road before meeting Mrs Knight for brunch in Poppin’s Café.

My afternoon was spent on telephone calls, wrapping presents, and reading more of “The Charterhouse of Parma”.

For a while now Jackie has been having problems with the interface between her Canon SX740HS camera and the memory card. Yesterday she ordered a new card which we hoped would be all that was necessary. She ordered a new one from Amazon yesterday.

It arrived today and she tried it out. It worked.

For dinner we all enjoyed chicken Kiev; chips; and broccoli stems, with which I drank Corte Aurelio Nero D’Avola red wine 2022.

Woodland Ponies

On this first dry day for a while I was able to tramp among ponies

reappearing in the woodland, through which the sun occasionally filtered, dappling the trees. Recent rains have kept the mossy roots shining bright. The tepees of branches are human structures for the benefit of insects and other wildlife.

This evening we all dined on racks of spare ribs in barbecue sauce on a bed of Jackie’s colourful savoury rice, with tender runner beans, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I finished the shiraz.

Fading Light

In the drizzling gloom on the already fading light of late afternoon we drove to Milford on Sea Pharmacy for repeat medication before continuing into the forest.

The decorated post box on Pilley Street now has a Christmas theme.

Further along a small van sprayed some of the pool crossing the road. An oncoming car let this vehicle pass in order to avoid trying the deeper level.

Mallards now own the fully filled and

reflecting lake alongside Jordans Lane.

The thatched Corner Cottage at Norley Wood has an outside decorated Christmas tree.

On our way home the lights decorating the lamp posts on the outskirts of Lymington were coming into their own.

This evening we all dined on Jackie’s savoury rice with tempura and salt and pepper prawn preparations and spring rolls, with which the Culinary Queen finished the white Zinfandel and I drank more of the shiraz

Downton Sunset

This morning I enjoyed another encouraging Chiropractic session with Eloise, and thereafter made good headway with “The Charterhouse of Parma” before wandering outside the house and round the garden photographing

a pink and pale indigo sunset.

This evening we all dined on toothsome roast pork with teeth-testing crackling; herby sage and onion stuffing; boiled potatoes; crunchy carrots; firm cauliflower; tender cabbage; meaty gravy; Bramley apple sauce and redcurrant jelly, with which Jackie drank more of the White Zinfandel, and I drank Swartland Shiraz 2022.

The Nature Of The Weather

Fairly early in a drizzly morning of gloom seeping from still rain filled skies we set off for a shopping trip to Lyndhurst.

This was Vaggs Lane. The smudged trees on the left hand side were beyond the reach of the windscreen wipers.

Father Christmas now stands upon the Tiptoe postbox on Wootton Road.

The moorland alongside the A35 to Lyndhurst looked decidedly hazy.

The High Street did not look tempting for shoppers,

yet some stalwarts persevered,

even if only, briefly, to window shop.

A Big Issue vendor seemed to have given up on finding customers. (The Big Issue is a rather good newspaper focussing on the issues of housing and homelessness. The profit goes to the homeless vendors).

The postbox decorations outside the Lyndhurst Tea Rooms, where we brunched, were also serving a fundraising purpose, in an attempt to preserve the Foxlease Activity Centre, more information on which is given on the site at the bottom right of the banner.

The Fox & Hounds pub alongside featured seasonal window boxes and The Forage across the road strung a garland of baubles.

A black bird watched from above, no doubt rejoicing in the fact that it did not have to

dice with death walking across the road.

In the interests of conveying the nature of the weather I have resisted the temptation to brighten all these images.

This evening we all dined on Mr Pink’s crisp fish and chips, pea fritters, and Mrs Elswood’s sandwich gherkins. Once she had prised

her bread and butter pudding from the top rack in the oven, Jackie’s dessert was to follow. I finished the Côtes du Rhône.

Either Side Of Sunset

For the first time for months I was able fully to carry my weight at a supermarket shop when we visited Lidl early this morning. This involves walking to the generally far side of the shop, carrying, for example, a box of a dozen cartons of milk back to the Catering Chief, loading it into her trolley, then seeking something else, collecting it, finding her again, and seeking further direction. My knees found this more stressful than my neck and shoulder, thanks to my chiropractor, with whom I kept another successful appointment either side of sunset.

This was our view from Christchurch Road on the way there. Our favourite wind-sculpted tree stands against the sky while a puddle on the verge reflects what is too dark too discern of a boundary fence.

Just twenty minutes later New Milton’s Christmas lights were at their best. The Chiropractic clinic features on the right of the first picture.

We took the Downton Lane (first picture) and the coast road (next two) route to Milford on Sea, where I photographed

the lights on the green, and

The windows of Sears Barber featuring my hairdresser, and The Pickled Weasel, which reflected the lights on the green’s Christmas trees.

This evening we all dined on meaty roast chicken thighs, Aunt Bessie’s Yorkshire puddings; Lyonnaise potatoes; crunchy carrots; firm cauliflower and Brussels sprouts, and meaty gravy with which I drank more of the Côtes du Rhône.

A Period Of Reflection

During a deceptive spell of sunshine between lashing gales sending floodwater pools from fields and moorland flowing across verges and resurfacing tarmac now streaming car headlights we drove to Ferndene Farm Shop to purchase items for tonight’s dinner.

Early on, bare branches stretched out against a deceptive sky.

Reflecting pools in the shop carpark evidenced the heavy rainfall;

cut chrysanthemums, packed kindling wood and seasoned logs, bulbs potted for planting, and above all

Christmas trees fast being scooped up indicated the time of year at the popular Ferndene Farm Shop. Wet surfaces did not deter shoppers enjoying the comparatively warm and dry moments, yet these people were soon dashing to there cars, as was Jackie, emerging with her shopping beneath heavy precipitation with the force of sleet which

bounced off the road surface as we left the outlet. This was to continue until we arrived home, when it eased enough for us to dash in with our purchases.

Even at mid-morning headlights were necessary, if only to highlight the deeper pools to avoid, given that we could not now be sure how deep were the proliferating potholes which would set our vehicles shuddering as we showered others.

Ponies, like these alongside Brockenhurst Road, ignored the rain, relied on towelling hide to keep their innards dry, and continued tugging the soggy sward.

Further along the road floodwater erased division of moorland and road. Notice the half-submerged gate to a path across the common. Both the approaching vehicles avoided the deeper section. I made sure I kept well back from this point when

I stepped out for a period of reflection.

Rain continued as we waited for traffic lights at the end of Hordle Lane,

and even hammered down on this tree surgeon in Everton Road who would not give up.

This evening we all dined on Ferndale’s meaty pork and garlic sausages; creamy mashed potatoes; crunchy carrots; tasty mac and cheese; tender cabbage and green beans, and substantial gravy with which I drank Calvet Prestige Côtes du Rhône Villages 2022.