A prolific red climbing rose was becoming a hazard as it stretched across the front door. It needed tying up. But there was no trellis left available. Fortunately we have found a number of large pointed metal spikes rather like giant Meccano struts, in various parts of the garden. I banged one of those into the stony soil with a heavy mallet, threaded garden wire through it, and used it as a hawser.
Just after one p.m. Jackie drove us to Brockenhurst to collect our friend Sheila who is spending the week with us. Whilst waiting for Sheila I saw my first ever bearded sparrow perched on a Leyland cypress apparently watching the trains go by. 
I wondered whether it might be collecting train numbers, as I had done in the 1950s along the railway path between Wimbledon and Raynes Park, clutching lists published, I think, by Ian Allan Publishing. Chris and I would eagerly check off in the books the numbers carried by the trains that would pass our house. As I pondered this and walked onto Platform 3 to meet Sheila’s train, I noticed one of those very numbers on the rear of a Lymington link service waiting for the late arrival from Clapham Junction. I don’t have those books any more, so I couldn’t check it, but the railwayman on the platform assured me it was unique to his carriage. I wonder, are they still published?
Beside the railway stands a carriage which has seen enough days to perhaps have featured in one of my old lists. It now appears to house a cycle hire firm, offering a way of exploring The New Forest.
I had plenty of opportunity to memorise number 158888, because her train was late and Sheila wasn’t on it. With an hour to kill before the next one, we repaired to the Forester’s Arms for lunch. I enjoyed fish, chips, and peas, and most of a pint of Ringwood’s Best. Jackie’s Baked potato with tuna and salad was equally to her taste.
Afterwards we returned to the station in good time for the next train.
Sheila wasn’t on it.
Now what? I thought as I climbed up this steps from the platform then turned right towards another set that would lead down to the car park. I then stopped, turned round and walked the other way towards the stairway to the ticket office. I thought there could be just a chance that a lost lady might be lurking there. And there, as I descended the stairs, was Sheila in a phone box, about to make a call to our home which would have been unoccupied because we were at the station waiting for her. She had, having missed the first train, decided to come by a different route, arriving on a different platform.
We then had a pleasant drive through country lanes back home, spent an afternoon catching up with each other, and then enjoyed the culinary skills of the head gardener. Succulent sausage casserole, crisp mange-touts and carrots, and creamy mashed potato and swede, were followed by a lemon cake that Sheila had brought, with evap. Hoegaarden was imbibed my Jackie, the rest of the merlot by me, and lemonade by Sheila.
Well that explains why your post arrived at the end of my early morning stint instead of the beginning. And thank goodness you listened to your intuition and didn’t leave poor Sheila sitting alone for an hour or more at the end of her journey! I’ve never quite understood this ‘trainspotting’ thing but your thoughts were illuminating. It’s nice to see old carriages being repurposed!
Many thanks Pauline
I love your wonderful calm. She’s not on this one, let’s go eat. Hmmm. Not on this one either. Maybe she’s here, but lost. Lovely.
Many thanks Lisa
Omigosh, I know! In the same situation, I would have been frazzled and making phone calls, and looking for official staff to help me, and looking down the tracks every 6 minutes… ha ha
Gotta love these folks. They know the difference between a real crisis and an opportunity to have a good meal…
Thank you Lisa
Sheila could’ve hired a bike. Tell all your friends (politely of course) that if they miss the train in future they should hire a bike. (I can’t follow my own advice because I’ve got no friends left!)
Thanks for another good laugh Bruce. Do you really mean you did have friends once?
Most of my once-friends told me to get on my bike… 🙁
then you went off the rails?
I continue to love your photos and the text that accompanies them. You have a lovely charmed existence. No, can you pass me a slice of that lemon cake, please? I wouldn’t mind a glass of the merlot, either. Thank you very much. 🙂
Thank you Kate 🙂
You always make me hungry!
Thank you Gary
Ticking off lists must be an absorbing past time. It’s the sense of achievement, I think, that makes it addictive. I’m glad you and Jackie made good use of your in-between time. I always enjoy those.
Thank you Mary
I really like the way you describe everything, it is just like being there:) Thanks.
Thank you, Mukhamani
This might’ve turned into a shaggy dog story (whatever that is), but thank goodness you found Sheila. She could’ve been wandering for days once she had discovered the phone box was out of order.
Thank you Jenny – had a good laugh at this
So glad you found Sheila! So enjoy how you take your moments and turn the mundane into so much more!
An example for us all! 🙂
Many thanks Rob
Lovely musing.
I sense great calmness within you. Does this come from a sense of detachment or something else I wonder.
Shakti
I am naturally calm Shakti. In retirement I don’t have much to upset this. I hope I am not detached. Thank you for your observations
Another post where I learned about British foods. I was surprised to find out the tout-mange is snow peas and swede, which I imagined to be some type of cracker, is a turnip. I’ve never seen anyone eat a turnip here in the northern Midwest but I’m sure that people must. Last weekend, the Celtic shop across the street came over with a plate of hot Dublin Coddle. I asked, (Is that a bit of gammon?” which received the strangest look and to which she replied, “No, that’s English bacon.”
Well, now I know a little more about American food. 🙂 Thank you Ginene