Ramblings
Becky and Ian joined us early yesterday evening.
Today is Flo’s birthday, which, after a joyful day, we celebrated at Lal Quilla after photographing
Christmas lights from Everton Post Office to Old Post House;
these last two pictures are Jackie’s.
This morning I scanned two original drawings for Christmas cards I produced in the 1970s.
This, before the nativity, is undated, but was drawn from life on scraper board
a couple of years before this Mary and Jesus dated 1976. I took the mother’s profile from a reclining photograph in a book; the rest came from my head. I have left them both – the second with its smudges – as I found them after almost half a century.
Flo, Dillon, and Ellie arrived after lunch. We happily reengaged and all enjoyed penne pasta bolognese, sweetcorn and peas for dinner, with which I finished the Côtes du Rhône Villages and the others drank fruit juice.
This morning we collected our chair from Brockenhurst’s Andrew Sharp Antique Restoration, who had done an exemplary job on our chair, and left him another. We also carried out a little shopping.
“New Milton is a market town and civil parish in the New Forest district, in southwest Hampshire, England. To the north is in the New Forest and to the south the coast at Barton-on-Sea. The town is equidistant between Lymington and Christchurch, 6 miles (9.7 km) away. In 2011 it had a population of 19,969.” https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/New_Milton
Station Road, being the main road through New Milton, dates from “March 1888 [when] New Milton railway station, still in operation today, was opened, and a new town developed, which expanded rapidly with the coming of the railway and the name New Milton was used for the first time and can originally be traced back to the Post Office that stood opposite the railway station….”(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/New_Milton) It is this street that now forms the main shopping centre on which we focussed today.
“New Milton dates back to Anglo-Saxon times, and encompasses Old Milton, Barton on Sea, Ashley, Bashley, and Wootton. It is recorded as having a population of 25,717 in the 2011 census.[1]” https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/New_Milton
The history of both Old and New Milton is headed Milton by Wikipedia:
“The manor of (“Mildeltune”) is listed in the Domesday Book of 1086 and literally means “Middle farm.” It was part of the lands belonging to Hugh de Port, and the estate was held from him by William Chernet.[3] The Chernet family maintained possession of Milton into the 13th century, although lesser families were managing the estate on their behalf.[3] The most important of these were the Chaucombe (or Chalcombe) family, who were probably the first people to build a church in Milton in the mid 13th century.[4] In 1303, Thomas de Chaucombe was given permission to hold a weekly market on Tuesdays at Milton, as well as an annual fair on the feast day of Mary Magdalene, but this attempt to create a market town seems to have failed.[4]
“From 1365 to 1565, the manor was in the possession of the Tyrrell family.[3] The manor passed through various hands in subsequent centuries. The last significant owners were the Bursey family in the 19th century, and in the 1890s the remaining lands of the estate were subdivided and sold.[3] In close proximity to Milton was the manor of Fernhill. In the Domesday book, it was held by Nigel from Roger de Montgomerie, 1st Earl of Shrewsbury.[3] In the 15th century, John Fromond, the owner of this scattered estate, willed the lands to Winchester College, in whose hands the estate remained down to the 19th century.[3] Another estate called “Gore” appeared by the 15th century,[3] and still survives (partially) as a farm to the west of the town. (Jackie’s mother lived in Gore Road).
“The traditional village centre of Milton was just south of the church. Up to the 1960s, moated earthworks were still visible next to the road known as Moat Lane. Excavations of these earthworks in 1956 revealed a series of peasant enclosures and hut remains dating from the 9th to the 12th century, but no evidence of a manorial farmstead was found.[5] The parish church of Milton is dedicated to Mary Magdalene and consists of a chancel with vestry, a nave and a western tower. The medieval church was pulled down and replaced around 1830, although the tower is of an earlier 17th century date.[3] In 1835, a Church of England National Schoolwas founded on an island of land near the village green,[6] where children were taught until just after World War I.[7] In 1881, the population of the entire Milton parish was only 1489 people, and Milton was still a small village.[8] The location of the village on the main Christchurch to Lymington road (now the A337) meant that there were two coaching inns – The Wheatsheaf and The George – the former of which is still operating. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/New_Milton
Clicking on any image will access the gallery.
We undertook more shopping in the town.
Later we dined on smoked haddock melt in the middle fish cakes; piquant cheddar cheese and mustard white sauce; boiled potatoes; crunchy carrots; firm cauliflower; and moist spinach, with which I drank more of the Côtes du Rhône Villages.
Many of us in the Northern hemisphere hope for a white Christmas. Our family and friends on the other side of the world in Australia can have no such expectation, as Louisa, Errol, baby Jessica, and I discovered when we arrived in Perth on Christmas Day 2007;
photographed by Errol in sweltering January heat https://derrickjknight.com/2014/07/25/a-manly-garment/
We were there for Sam and Holly’s wedding
in a Margaret River winery,
which I celebrated in an Independent crossword as explained, if desired, in https://derrickjknight.com/2012/07/05/the-folio-society/
This afternoon I read more of ‘Cover Her Face’ by P.D. James.
This evening we dined on tender roast breast of lamb; boiled new potatoes; crunchy carrots; firm Brussels sprouts, and meaty gravy, with which I drank Les Aumôniers Séguret Côtes du Rhône Villages 2022.
“The historic market town of Ringwood occupies a strategic position on the western edge of the New Forest with the renowned Avon Valley long-distance walking path passing through it. Vital ancient trading links once provided by the River Avon and the Victorian railway have been replaced by excellent road systems with the town at the crossroads of the A31 and A338 offering fast journeys to and from Southampton, Poole, Salisbury and Bournemouth.
The Wednesday street market has been held in the Market Place since a charter was awarded in 1226, this charter has been held by the family of Lord Morant for hundreds of years. Animals and agricultural goods were still bought and sold into the 1980s, but now a wide variety of merchandise can be found, complimented at the weekends by farmers and speciality markets held in The Furlong and Gateway Square.
The exact history of the town remains unknown however in 955 AD, documents suggest that ‘Rimucwude’ is mentioned which translates into the ‘rim of the forest’. A church and a mill were also mentioned in the Domesday Book in 1086.
In 1725, brewing took off in Ringwood as breweries made use of the waters of the River Avon giving rise to great beers.” https://www.thenewforest.co.uk/explore/towns-and-villages/ringwood/
“After the [Civil War] Battle of Sedgemoor on 6 July 1685, [James Scott] the 1st Duke of Monmouth was arrested near Horton, just outside Ringwood. Monmouth is believed to have hid in a ditch under an ash tree disguised as a shepherd, but was betrayed by a local woman who (according to legend) later killed herself in remorse. Monmouth was then taken to the house now named Monmouth House in West Street (between the Market Place and the Fish Inn) where he wrote a letter (in vain) to James II begging forgiveness. He was brought to trial in the Tower of London by the infamous “Hanging Judge Jefferies” and subsequently beheaded. Legend relates that it was realised after the execution that there was no official portrait of the Duke; so his body was exhumed, the head stitched back on the body, and it was sat for its portrait to be painted.”( https://www.newforest-online.co.uk/ringwood.asp )
Late this afternoon we photographed the town’s main street.
Here is my gallery;
and here, Jackie’s.
As usual clicking on any picture will access its gallery. I have chosen the header mainly for its apt choice of paintings on display.
This evening we dined on chicken Kiev with garlic and parsley centres; oven chips; cauliflower, carrots, runner beans, and spinach, with which I finished the Malbec.
This novel by Elizabeth Goudge is a story on many levels based largely in Devon during the time of Nelson and Bonaparte. It is a tale of instinctive romantic love; of consistent unselfish giving of oneself; of loyal adoption; and of genetic recognition; of intuitive identification; of generosity of spirit; of friendship formed in adversity; and of complete lack of empathy and extreme cruelty.
So well crafted is the work that it is not at first apparent that the backdrop is the earlier period of The Terror of the French Revolution and the part it played in the lives of the main protagonists. The overall triumph of survival in challenging circumstances is an underlying theme.
Contrasts between gentle bucolic country life and the harsh disciplined life of sailors on the open sea form a key part of the narrative, as do those concerning class and breeding, and of different spheres of Christianity.
Goudge’s elegant descriptive prose engaging all the senses is at its best, whether featuring inland or coastline scenes or the various action sequences. “[dawn] came quite soon, with its inevitable quickening and reassurance, and the interpenetration of light an sound and scent by each other that one seems to notice only in moments of deep piece. The crying of the awakening gulls, the soft slap of the sea against the harbour wall, the running of the stream, the sound of an opening door and a voice singing, a church clock striking the hour, made a music that was a part of the growing pearly light. There was a faint scent if seaweed, of baking bread, and that indescribable fresh smell of the dawn compounded of dew-drenched flowers, wood-smoke and wet fields…..” is an example of this scenic range. “…..he was enduring the punishment meted out to midshipmen who sleep on watch. He was lashed in the weather rigging, his arms and legs widely stretched, his head burning, his body shivering from the bucketful of cold water that had been emptied over him, every nerve in him stretched to what felt like breaking point, and in his heart black rebellion, fury and despair. For he had been treated with the most shocking injustice…..” demonstrates the cruelty; “….Hour after hour it went on, the work and discipline of the wounded ships functioning all the while with order and purpose. Men toiled at the guns, in the magazines, in the rigging, carrying the wounded, flinging the dead and dying overboard, running messages, repairing under-water timbers….” the toil of battle.
There is good use of simile and metaphor, as in “He could disappear with the ease of a shadow when the sun goes in”; “he had been like a tortoise on its back, immovable but vulnerable and inviting prodding”; “that nauseating smell of unwashed bodies and filthy clothes that is the very breath of poverty”.
With intimate knowledge, our author closely observes her human characters and their animals with equal accuracy. “His eyes were his father’s, tawny and somewhat stern, but there was great sweetness of expression about the mouth. He had a character of the utmost nobility; he was wise, brave, loving, loyal, patient, chivalrous, and fastidious in his personal habits.” Which would this be?
She has good command of dialogue and natural accents.
She weaves in her usual references to Shakespeare and ancient myth and legend
My copy is a 1949 first edition published by Hodder and Stoughton inscribed to ‘Morag from Noel Jan 1950’.
Although the book jacket by J. Morton Sale was in raggedy unconnected bits it somehow managed to protect the front and back
boards for three quarters of a century. Note the preservation of blue in the gentian on the front.
These are the endpapers both front and back.
Having spent many hours watching Christopher Shaw restoring books on The Repair Shop, Jackie took great pleasure in applying his
techniques to repairing this jacket. You will see that she has pasted the parts onto a base sheet and created a spine. Study of the darkened spine in the first picture above shows by contrast how well the boards have been protected until now. Maybe, with the jacket wrapped in cellophane, they will continue for many more years to come.
This evening we dined on tasty baked gammon; piquant cheddar cheese and mustard sauce; boiled new potatoes; firm carrots and cauliflower with its chopped leaves; tender runner beans; and moist spinach, with which I drank more of the Malbec.
On Boxing Day 2014, Louisa sent me a photo presumably produced by Errol. There could be no better evidence that the family had
enjoyed a white Christmas than this so atmospheric image of my daughter pulling Jessica and Imogen on sledges in driving snow.
This morning I returned for a dental check-up for the first time since my cancer treatment prevented me from attending. There were no further concerns requiring attention.
Later, Martin Fairhurst from Dials Antique Clocks visited to collect the workings of our long case clock in order to repair the broken hands and undertake its ten yearly service.
In readiness for the next storm set to strike tonight, I laid down the few remaining items of garden furniture that Jackie had righted after Darragh’s recent visit.
Pinewood Road is one of a group of developments off Stopples Lane behind the row of shops featured two days ago. Many of the residents are keen to celebrate the season.
I photographed this gallery;
the stand-out display, also included in Jackie’s collection, should be easy to spot.
This evening we dined at Rokali’s, where I enjoyed Garlic Chilli lamb and mushroom rice while Jackie chose her favourite Ponir Shashlik. She drank Diet Coke and I drank Kingfisher beer. Food was excellent as always, as was the friendly, efficient service. White roses on the tables were still fresh.
Jackie is now into her third decade of maintaining her tradition of making fairy dresses for Flo, granddaughters and now a great granddaughter.
She began with Flo’s first in 1999.
Our granddaughter’s last was produced when she was about 10.
Here the creator displays her own mother’s petticoat material bulking
out the dress, and Flo’s last alongside Ellie’s first, including wings,
which she wore last year.
Because Flo refused to take off her dresses, even in bed, much repair was usually needed as can be seen when the images are enlarged.
Maybe ten years ago Mat and Becky gave us the fireplace fender for Christmas. After Jackie put up the decorations I just had to supply a good polish.
This afternoon I finished reading ‘Gentian Hill’, which I will feature within a few days.
This evening we dined on tasty baked gammon; cheese and mustard white sauce; firm carrots and cauliflower with its chopped leaves; and tender runner beans. I finished the Cabernet Sauvignon.
Fortunately my leg has healed enough for me to take the lead on this
display of Christmas lights on Stopples Lane. I also grasped the
opportunity of conversing with owner Nick and his lad, Charlie. Nick explained that he likes to move things around each year, and picks up new items wherever he finds them. The reindeer beside Santa on the sledge came from a skip; the sledge had been in his garage for years. Note that the Santa on the wall in the first picture bears a countdown to Christmas Day.
The windows in a small row of neighbouring shops were similarly
decorated. Here are those to Silver Thread & Golden Needles and Everything Pets.
Jackie photographed Hatherley’s Hairdressers window; close-ups of that of Silver Threads & Golden Needles;
and me in action.
For some years now it has been a tradition for us to dine on Mr Chan’s Hordle Chinese Take Away fare on Christmas Eve, regardless of the numbers present. Mr Chan has retired, so having been able to say goodbye,
Jackie also photographed the darkened window and the closed sign.
Kings House is a perfectly adequate alternative, but we will miss Mr Chan.
This evening we enjoyed the third and final outing of Jackie’s wholesome liver casserole meal with new potatoes, carrots, cauliflower, and Brussels sprouts, accompanied, in my case, by more of the Cabernet Sauvignon.