Questions

Posted on June 16, 2017 by derrickjknight

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Today I scanned the next batch of colour slides from my Streets of London Series. These were all produced in September 2004.

When, in ‘Meandering Through Soho’, I stated that the musical had opened when we were living in Horse and Dolphin Yard, my memory was playing tricks with me. Les Misérables has enjoyed so long a presence in Shaftesbury Avenue W1 that I thought it had been in residence at Queens Theatre during our time there. In fact we left in 1980 and the production began in 1985. Here is an extract from the official website:

‘CAMERON MACKINTOSH’S LEGENDARY PRODUCTION OF BOUBLIL AND SCHÖNBERG’S LES MISÉRABLES IS A GLOBAL STAGE SENSATION.

Seen by more than 70 million people in 44 countries and in 22 languages around the globe, it is still breaking box-office records everywhere. The original London production celebrated its 30th anniversary on 8 October 2015.

Set against the backdrop of 19th-century France, Les Misérables tells an enthralling story of broken dreams and unrequited love, passion, sacrifice and redemption – a timeless testament to the survival of the human spirit.

Ex-convict Jean Valjean is hunted for decades by the ruthless policeman Javert after he breaks parole. When Valjean agrees to care for factory worker Fantine’s young daughter, Cosette, their lives change forever.

Featuring the songs “I Dreamed A Dream”, “Bring Him Home”, “One Day More” and “On My Own” – Les Misérables is the show of shows.’

My memory also fails me in attempting to recollect the name of the kindly gentleman who was my boss during my brief employment at the Yorkshire Insurance company in Leadenhall Street in about 1962/3. I do, however remember that he bought all his staff ties or other similar birthday gifts from Austin Reed, the upmarket outfitters on Regent Street,

visible from this corner of Brewer Street. I took this practice to heart, and, when I became a Social Services manager myself, gave everyone a birthday card. Since the staff numbers ran closer to three figures, that’s all I could afford.

Both Essendine Road W9

and its neighbour Morshead Road were in the patch for which I was responsible.

Church Street, forming this junction with Edgware Road remains the location of a thriving multicultural general market. The far end of Church Street is home to a number of antique shops.

I wonder if anyone has yet built on this corner plot in Ham Yard W1, a very short walk from Piccadilly Circus, or whether acrobats have continued to cover the beams and walls with graffiti;

why was this gentleman standing guard over the entrance to Bridle Lane;

does this gentleman passing Devonshire Place Mews still smoke;

is the baby in the buggy being pushed along Sutherland Avenue W9, like Sue Townsend’s Adrian Mole now aged thirteen and three quarters, and about to publish a best-selling diary;

and were this couple resting the bench visitors to or residents of Elgin Avenue W9.

This series does often raise a series of questions on which to speculate.

This evening we dined, with usual excellent, friendly, service at Lal Quilla in Lymington. Jackie enjoyed her Lal Quilla special, as did I my chicken jalfrezi. We shared special fried rice and a garlic naan. We both drank Kingfisher.

Wagons Ho!

Posted on June 15, 2017 by derrickjknight

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Beginning with roseraie de l’Hay, Jackie and I continued our work in the Rose Garden by bashing stakes into the ground and tying the stems to them. Brambles are very sneaky when they send their deep roots down beside roses. The worst of these, masquerading as the rose, had to be dug out with a trowel and great care.

Rosa gallica, here fronted by Laura Ford, also needed a lengthy stake;

shorter ones sufficed for Lady Emma Hamilton,

and Festive Jewel.

Laura Ford,

standing between roseraie de l’Hay and rosa gallica,

had produced a rambling sport which we needed to remove from its cultivated host. New varieties are produced by grafting onto the wild rose stock. A tendency to revert to the original produces what is called a sport. This dog rose looks wonderful when flung over a hedgerow, but rather detracted from our plantings.

It probably envied Ballerina her gleeful dance celebrating her freedom to roam.

This afternoon we transported two large orange bags of garden clippings to the Efford Recycling Centre, then went for a drive in the forest.

Sometimes we do find ourselves admiring cyclists who tackle the slopes with such splendid effort.

Here was another at Burley, climbing

the hill above The Queen’s Head.

Walkers were also doing well with this.

We, on the other hand, were enjoying a drink in the front garden of the pub. Katherine Parr was the sixth wife of King Henry VIII, and the only one to survive him. It is, we think, her portrait that adorns the inn sign. (See Lord Beeri’s comments below. He is right to put the finger on Lady Jane Gray)

Strike out the first two guesses. Becky, in her comment below, has come up with the definitive answer, from https://www.royalcollection.org.uk/collection/404444/elizabeth-i-when-a-princess.

From this point we noticed the dragon on the roof of A Coven of Witches, thus combining the two myths upon which the prosperity of this village is built.

Even the Art Shop has a scary window.

We had stopped here because we could see that a Burley Wagon Ride was about to get under way.

On the approach to the car park, a tree was cut down some years ago. Someone obviously carved the name of the village into the stump. Only three and a half letters remain.

No forest drive would be complete without at least one pony mooning in the middle of the road.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s deliscious chiken tikka, mushroom and onion rice topped with an omelette, and onion bahjis She drank Peroni and I drank Isla Negra merlot 2016.

Hot

Posted on June 14, 2017 by derrickjknight

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Yesterday evening we dined with Elizabeth, Danni, and Andy at Sanjha restaurant in Southampton’s suburb of Shirley.

My interest was aroused when the others pronounced their meals a little hotter than anticipated. Then I made a start on my lamb mirchan ma ke, served with egg rice and a plain naan.

Wow!

Regular readers will know of my penchant for the flavours of hot chilies. I’ll invariably opt for a naga dish if there is one on the menu. ‘A dish for customers with iron lined stomach. Cubes of lamb cooked with a blend of red chilli powder and fresh green chilies.’ Thus was my choice as described by the restaurant.

Most of the Indian restaurants with which I am familiar are, in fact, Bangladeshi. This is why I had never come across my meal before. The restaurant is Punjabi, and to be highly recommended.

The manager told me that he would never eat red chilies. The item in question only appeared on the menu to satisfy the men coming out of pubs later on, and up for a challenge. As we left, he volunteered to make it milder next time. I surprised myself by saying that would be a good idea. Cobra beer and water had not extinguished the fire.

It is many years since a burning sensation has accompanied evacuation the morning after a curry. I was mildly apprehensive about this, but can happily report that there was no such experience.

This afternoon we trained, generally tidied up, dead-headed, and watered roses, until the mid afternoon sun, becoming hotter and raising far more of a sweat than last night’s curry, persuaded us to take our own water on the patio.

There is still more to be done,

but we hope that this corner will please Pauline.

This evening Mr Pink’s fish and chips were paired with Garner’s pickled onions for our dinner. Jackie drank Peroni and I finished the Cairanne.

Satisfied

Posted on June 13, 2017 by derrickjknight

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Today Summer has returned in the form of a hot sunny day.

I’m no entomologist, so my identification of the bee-like insects flitting from bloom to bloom should be taken with a pinch of salt (which, traditionally should see off weeds). I am, however, confident that this one on a geranium palmatum is really a bee.

This is probably a hoverfly using fuchsia Delta’s Sarah as a landing strip;

and another approaching a pale pink poppy;

more likely a wasp lurking behind this white antirrhinum;

and a couple more sampling these new poppies

towering in the herbaceous border,

where delicate pink Canterbury bells now stand alongside the deep blue ones,

and roses like the flaming Ernest H Morse

and the gentler Dearest are thriving.

Unfortunately this herbaceous border, between the Back Drive and the back fence recently erected to keep out invaders from the North Breeze jungle, became the source of my major gardening task. An attempt has been made by an even bigger beast to eradicate Jackie’s recently planted red rambler rose. There was a label giving the name of the rose, but it’s probably been eaten by whatever dug its way under the fence, tearing at the roots and demolishing a large ornamental poppy.

We decided to be subtle about creating a barrier. To this end I transported two concrete blocks from the other end of the garden,

extended the hole behind the rose, and popped in the concrete. The subtlety lay in leaving the hole to the left of the rose, so providing the animal with an alternative route. The stem in the foreground of the last of this series of pictures will be tied to its support.

Here is a current view of the Rose Garden showing, from front to back, Absolutely Fabulous, For Your Eyes Only, and Love Knot, flanked by tall pink foxgloves;

and another from the eucalyptus to the Compassion rose on the arch spanning The Dead End Path,

which received the bulk of Jackie’s attention today. She pruned, weeded, raked, tidied, planted, and

propped up the rather unstable bench with bricks which I helped transport from elsewhere. It can now take my weight without wobbling.

Recent plantings well settled in include the begonias in the foreground of the picture of the Head Gardener at work; these petunias and cosmoses in a tub nearby;

and osteospermums and nepeta in the Oval Bed.

Eventually Jackie was satisfied that her day’s work was fit to be photographed,

and she could sit back and admire it.

This evening we are off to Danni and Andy’s home in Shirley where Elizabeth will join us for a meal at the young folks’ local Indian restaurant. Since it is only my niece who has expressed sleepless distress at not knowing what I had for dinner, and she will be well acquainted with it, I assume that the rest of you won’t mind if I report on this tomorrow. With apologies to those who will be on their breakfast.

Embarking On Schooldays

Posted on June 12, 2017 by derrickjknight

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First thing this morning, Jackie drove me to New Milton for me to do some banking. After this she continued with planting and repairing storm damage in the garden where I carried out minimal tidying and dead-heading.

This afternoon I worked on the next section of ‘A Knight’s Tale’.

This involved editing and re-ordering much of my post ‘Maureen Potter And Plasticine’,

and inserting these two photographs.

I also used extracts from ‘Yesterday’s Bread’, with this illustration;

and from ‘Miss Downs’, adding these two, not included in the post,

and this photograph from ‘Auntie Gwen’

This evening we dined at The Smugglers Inn in Milford on Sea.

Having made the mistake of ordering two belly-busting courses last time we were here, we each just had one tonight. Jackie enjoyed ginormous lemon chicken, chips, and salad.

My choice was superb sizzling sirloin steak served on a bed of onions, mushrooms, and tomatoes set on a steaming dish alongside the plentiful chips, onion rings, and salad on another enormous plate. I drank Doom Bar and Jackie drank Amstel. This time we consumed everything except a few of Jackie’s chips. The lady behind the steam thought this an artistic portrait.

Fishy Business

Posted on June 11, 2017 by derrickjknight

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This morning, Jackie went hunting for pond liner to mend a leak in the Waterboy fountain

whilst Aaron cleared wind-battered plants and cut back others encroaching on the paths,

and I dead-headed in the rose garden and beyond. In the first of the above two pictures, the paler Alan Titchmarsh stands beside Love Knot; in the second, Little Rambler’s label stands out.

The bright pink Rosa Gallica is beautifully striated;

Winchester Cathedral bears new buds ready to take over from the mature bloom;

and a bee lingered on Absolutely Fabulous long enough for me to get two shots in.

In fact bees busy themselves everywhere. This one takes itself into a pink foxglove;

another boards an aquilegia;

another a heuchera;

and, is that a shield bug sharing a berth with one in a Bottle Brush plant?

Elsewhere we have suspended petunias;

ascending clematises like this Star of India;

soaring Rosa Glauca;

white campanulas;

delicate rose campion;

tiny sisyrinchium striatum;

luscious lilies;

hardy fuchsias;

two different philadelphuses;

another pink rose Dearest;

and Wedding Day

joining the clematis on the Agriframes Arch.

After lunch we motored to Stewart’s Garden Centre just outside Christchurch where, at Maidenhead Aquatics, we found the liner.

Outside this outlet there is a large pool around which koi carp, some looking prehistoric, glide, fins flapping, or swoop, tails flipping, fins tucked into their sides, whirling interminably.

We also noticed that Broomhill Garden Buildings had a Spring Sale, where a rather good greenhouse was available at half price. Back home we sped to take measurements of the place where it would go. It fitted. Back we sped and ordered it.

This evening we dined on haddock fishcakes topped with Cheddar cheese; spinach (for the forearms); boiled potatoes, carrots, and green beans.with which I drank Louis Chamandiet Cairanne 2015.

The North/South Divide

Posted on June 10, 2017 by derrickjknight

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Today was another dull one with little sun after 10 a.m. This morning we took a motorised stroll through the forest

and brunched at Hyde-Out Café where I enjoyed a tastefully presented full English.

Just outside Bashley the first bunch of cyclists began disrupting the traffic.

Someone had recently lobbed food packaging into the stream crossing Holmsley Passage, along which we passed the resident of

the modern house that was once the site of the crossing keeper’s cottage.

At Burley ponies had been engaged to mow the outfield of the cricket green.

Some took a break,

and, for one, the task had become all too exhausting.

It being the grockle season, only the narrower lanes like Braggers were free of cyclists and other cars designed to send drivers onto the verges.

More common were crocodiles like these escorted children wobbling along

opposite the irises blooming in Whitemoor Pond.

Mauve foxgloves stood proudly erect all over the forest.

On the slopes on other side of the road leading into Bolderwood, where the first two of these pictures were taken, wild orchids clustered among the curling ferns.

Someone had lobbed a bottle into this lovely landscape.

Logging had been carried out in the vicinity of this stump with its moss-covered exposed roots.

The A31, that bisected the forest into North and South, spans the road through Bolderwood, bringing the modern world into stark contrast with the historic home of this equine family whose ancestors grazed the forest floors for centuries.

One of two riders crossing the heath on the other side of the main thoroughfare gave me a pleasant smile, after which we exchanged waves.

For our dinner this evening Jackie produced tasty chicken thighs marinaded in lemon and herbs and roasted with peppers; boiled potatoes, carrots, and green beans.