Tag: Angel Lane

Somewhat Shamefaced

A member of the Britannia Thai staff having left a message on Ian’s answerphone to say that they had found my lens cap, I collected it this afternoon.

Jackie drove me via Angel Lane, like many others bearing the deposits of last night’s overnight rain, now desisted, but, as we discovered, also leaving the

moorland more waterlogged and many trees in standing water providing temporary accommodation for mallards.

Primroses like those along Royden Lane, and daffodils along Church Lane with its ancient mossy verges lined our route to Pilley,

where ponies enjoyed foraging on the green where a brisk breeze dried their hair,

and damp donkeys disrupted the traffic along Jordans Lane.

We have all been wondering why I have not received the results of my DNA test allegedly registered with Ancestry on 4th January .

This afternoon Becky and Flo decided to investigate, and discovered that I misinformed all my blogging friends on the above highlighted post by boasting that I had successfully registered when in fact all I had done was register an account with Ancestry DNA and my spit has not been registered. It has, however, been stored somewhere and from today, since the ladies have made a better job than I, it has been activated; the results should be communicated by e-mail in about two months time.

I now feel somewhat shamefaced for bragging about my prowess.

This evening we all dined on moist roast chicken, crisp roast potatoes and Yorkshire pudding; crunchy carrots, firm Brussels sprouts; and tender runner beans, with tasty gravy. Jackie drank Western Cape Sauvignon Blanc 2023, and I drank Mighty Murray shiraz.

A Visible Contrast

The Needles foghorn beckoned us all the way to the coast at Barton on Sea this morning. All other sounds were muffled by clouds of tiny water droplets known as mist.

We took the route through Angel Lane where Jackie parked the Modus and I photographed

misty scenes

and more visible views of the banks of the ditch.

The silhouettes of the few dog walkers on the clifftop at Barton could not have contrasted more with the many enjoying yesterday afternoon’s sunset.

After visiting the pharmacy at Milford on Sea we progressed to Keyhaven harbour where there was not much to be seen:

Bob Barnes reflected in the first picture, a fisherman, gulls, swans, and a few boats.

Later, I was able to photograph Bob and his reflection once more as we engaged in a socially distanced conversation beside

a memorial bench to Peter and Dorothy Thomas. Our discussion was recorded by Jackie, who also photographed

walkers on the spit, the yacht club, a bird on a wire, and a pair of preening mallards.

Another dog walker approached Pennington Lane as we passed on our way to

Boldre’s Saint John the Baptist Churchyard on Church Lane.

Field horses grazed beneath the graveyard, where, above the soil, a mossy, decomposing stump gradually merged with the soil beneath which humans from days gone by engaged in the same process.

This evening we dined on toothsome roast gammon; golden creamy mashed potatoes; pure white cauliflower; and most moist ratatouille, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank Recital 2018.

He Flies Like A Bird

Today Nick was mostly painting woodwork.

This afternoon we shopped at Tesco and at Milford on Sea Pharmacy. There were queues at neither outlet.

From Tesco we drove to Milford on Sea via Angel Lane alongside which Jackie parked and I walked a while, photographing

woodland, a mossy oak, a mushroom, and autumn leaves floating on ditch water.

Along the coast road the air was so hazy as to obscure the cliffs of the Isle of Wight and a cruise ship quarantined outside Southampton.

The sea was quite calm, and more than one couple found the weather warm enough to enjoy ice creams from the nearby kiosk.

We moved on to Keyhaven and, from Saltgrass Lane, watched

walkers on the spit,

and were entertained by the aerial gymnastics of an impressive kite surfer.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s wholesome shepherds pie served with al dente carrots, cauliflower, and green beans, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Faugeres.

I Wish I’d Brought A Carrot.

Last night we watched the first episode of series 3 of The Crown. Apart from the political aspects of the Wilson premiership I well  remember the death of Winston Churchill in 1965.

At the time I was working close to Westminster Bridge and photographed the queue of thousands waiting to pay their respects to his lying in state. These pictures feature in this post: https://derrickjknight.com/2012/05/22/the-scent-of-a-squirrel/

This morning I printed a set of photographs for Aaron of the gate he finished building on 2nd February.

Storm Dennis wept all over our area today, but he dropped his wind this afternoon. We therefore decided to go for a drive.

Racing rivulets like this one in Angel Lane ran down the gutters and verges,

rushing round into roads like Christchurch Road which is the main thoroughfare between Lymington and New Milton.

Sometimes vehicles took a wide berth with awkward consequences when they met oncoming traffic. This could result in a bucketload of water hitting windscreens in seconds. We know. It happened to us.

In order to produce these images I needed to hoist up my trouser legs and paddle through the muddy water to the sodden verge. My shoes were a little damp when I returned to the car.

 

Our next stop was on Barrows Lane where Jackie settled the Modus among the heavily pitted reflective gravel pools while I crossed

Sway Road to photograph a flooded field alongside

the equally waterlogged Lower Mead End Road.

 

Further flowing fields flooded Flexford Lane.

The junction with South Sway Lane looked so impassable that Jackie refused to turn left to investigate the circumstances of our gimlet eyed equine friend whose home would now surely be under water. She preferred to turn round and drive uphill to approach the field from the more elevated end of the lane.

As we passed Sway Tower, we noticed that streaks of blue sky stretched above.

Back down South Sway Lane we found our equine quarry, his eye now so baleful that I felt really bad that I had not brought a carrot. Anything.

Far less field, and what there was was muddy. Shaggy sodden coat and looking in need of comfort.

Pitmore Lane was also waterlogged. You can imagine what happened to me when I perched on the verge trying to merge into the fences to take these pictures.

Around the corner on Sway Road someone had thought to spread some cones along a soggy bend.

Further back we had passed a field containing a fallen tree.

Hordle Lane is perhaps 100 yards on the opposite side of Christchurch Road to our house. In a number of locations the ditches are now flowing across the road.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s luscious lemon chicken and scrumptious vegetable savoury rice with which she drank Peroni and I drank more of the Cahors.

 

 

Sweet Smell Of Success

On a dull, damp, afternoon we took the Angel Lane route to Milford on Sea to pick up a repeat prescription from the Pharmacy, then drove on to Keyhaven.

Low tide in the harbour revealed seaweed on which gulls preened and one cannibal crow scavenged. Boats tilted and buoys bobbed. Hazy distant views of Hurst Castle and its lighthouse could be discerned.

We left via Lymore Lane where we inhaled the sweet smell of success of oilseed rape farmers as we travelled alongside

their fields and the escapees brightening the verges.

Even greater success has been exhibited by The Wheel Inn at Bowling Green. When we first came to the area five years ago this old pub was so run down as to be totally uninviting. A couple of years ago the local community formed a committee which refurbished the building and created a thriving establishment where we stopped for a drink. An excellent review appears in The Lymington Times of 9th March: https://www.advertiserandtimes.co.uk/wheel-inn-review

Jackie photographed some of the covered salad plants grown by the volunteer gardener for use in the kitchen.

This evening we enjoyed our second sitting of Hordle Chinese Take Away’s excellent food, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank sparkling water.