Early this morning Jackie stocked up with provisions at Ferndene Farm Shop while I sat in the car, then continued into the forest via
Beckley Common Road, which, like all lanes on this decidedly damp, drear, day bore reflecting pools along the verges,
and soggy autumn leaves there
and in the bordering woodland, where someone had hung
a pair of toys out to dry.
Equally damp were the ponies foraging alongside Forest Road.
Distant landscapes, as, for example, visible from Wilverley Road, were distinctly hazy.
Martin and his younger son, Arlo, visited briefly at lunchtime to deliver a Christmas card with a warm message, and beverages for Jackie and for me selected from information gleaned on this blog.
This evening we dined on more of Hordle Chinese Take Away’s excellent fare with which I drank Gran Selone Italian red wine.
We drove through a deluge to shop at Lidl this morning. I began photographing raindrops on the car windows. Suddenly the skies cleared to make room for the sun, and while Jackie made the purchases I photographed the car park, and abandoned raindrops on windscreen.
Autumn leaves floated on the pools reflecting vehicles and overhead branches.
The now familiar fat raindrops, still dripping from the trees sent out their ever increasing circles on the surfaces of those deeper areas avoided by drivers
and passing shoppers pushing trolleys.
Rainwater streaked the trunks of ornamental trees.
This couple turned out to be Cherry and Rob, like-minded photography enthusiasts, with whom I enjoyed a delightful conversation swapping details of similar subjects we favour. Cherry had dropped one of her bags, which she had gathered up by the time
she reached a deeper pool.
Cloudy blue skies and the weak sun peeping through skeletal branches need only out of focus surface leaves to reveal their mirror images nature.
We had intended to follow with a forest drive, but I knew I had more than enough photographs in the Canon. As it is, I forced myself to cull 50%.
Along with the links to these pictures, SueW sent me one to
her straightened picture of my painting featured yesterday which I have added to that post.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s flavoursome chicken and vegetable stewp with fresh bread, followed by bread and butter pudding, with which she drank more of the Sauvignon Blanc and I drank more of the Malbec.
After buying provisions from Ferndene Farm Shop this afternoon Jackie and I took a forest drive while Becky and Flo, taking Ellie with them, shopped elsewhere.
On the way up Lyndhurst Road outside Burley, Jackie managed to park the Modus allowing me to walk down
the soggy verge with my camera.
I had been attracted by the moss-carpeted roof opposite the bright red cones which had not prevented a number of heavy vehicles from gouging tracks in the mud with their outsize wheels.
Over the years, we have watched the gradual disintegration of this stump still functioning as a direction indicator to the church, provided you understand that you need to take the next right turn rather than carry straight on up the hill. Observant drivers will notice that that right turn is signed Church Lane.
As I approached a trio of Highland Cattle on Wootton Common one of them bravely ran away and stared me out from a safe distance.
This evening we dined on tender roast leg of lamb; crisp roast potatoes and Yorkshire pudding; firm cauliflower; crunchy carrots; piquant cauliflower cheese; and meaty gravy. Jackie drank more of the Cabernet Sauvignon, Becky drank Diet Pepsi, and I drank Mendoza Malbec 2020.
This morning Jackie and I visited Shelly and Ron with presents for my sister-in-law. Jane and Ivy were also present. The little girl was looking bonny and cheerful.
Afterwards we took a short forest drive before returning home for lunch.
The grey pony habitually risking its throat on barbed wire while checking whether the grass is greener on the other side was at it again today on the Holmsley Camp Site end of Forest Road;
and a good number were gathered on the banks of Whitemoor Pond.
Early signs of autumn abound in the turning leaves joining their predecessors on banks striated by long shadows during the sun’s brief appearances.
These mossy sawn trunks outside Burley, originally seen a year or so ago, are now carrying out their contribution to the forest ecology by supporting tree fungus and new growth of parasitic holly and other plants.
Still silhouetted are trees on the nearby ancient hedgerow banks.
I am very grateful to SueW for her help in enabling me to feature the last five pictures here from today, and to recover three rejected pictures from my post of 24th.
Elizabeth visited later with a beautiful dress for Flo and a most thoughtful crafted wood bowl for Dillon’s birthday tomorrow. She stayed for dinner, part of which consisted of her portion of the power cut interrupted meal; also on offer were some Chinese prawn toasts etc.; spicy pork spare ribs; and Jackie’s savoury rice. My wife and sister drank Kingfisher; Dillon and Flo, fruit juice cordial; and I, more of the Côtes du Rhône.
The weather temperature has plummeted. Early this morning Jackie photographed ice on the new water features.
Beginning mid-morning I wasted four hours and my frayed nerve ends wrestling with an on line banking problem arising from a regular heating fuel supplier who had changed their bank details, and a system which could not adequately cope with the change. I will bore neither myself nor my readers by elaborating on this issue.
This afternoon Jackie successfully restored my equilibrium by offering to take me for a forest drive, with the proviso that she wafted past Ferndene Farm Shop en route. I accepted with the generous suggestion that she could shop there if she so desired. The ensuing shopping was a very smooth operation.
I wandered among the woodland alongside Bisterne Close, photographing isolated ponies; general scenes including fallen branches, gorse, and mossy roots; the serpentine stretched limbs of a giant oak; and the dried autumn leaves I crunched underfoot to create the only sounds in the otherwise silent forest. There was not even any birdsong.
Jackie, meanwhile had pictured some trees, one of which was a holly with pony tooth marks on the trunk, prompting the realisation that all such scores are borne by hollies on which we have noticed these equines’ marks over the winter. She also captured
me
and a resident squirrel.
While I drafted this post two separate falls of snow streaked, and drifted, past my window. None settled.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s splendid egg fried rice with a rack of spare ribs marinaded in plum sauce. The Culinary Queen drank Peroni and I drank more of the Cotes du Rhone.
On a bright, crisp, afternoon Jackie drove us to Bisterne Close,
where she parked and sat in the car while I wandered into the forest with my camera, rustling the dried autumn leaves, across which the low sun cast long shadows. One lone cow wandered off into the distance. Golden gorse glowed; a few beech and oak leaves lingered on the branches; some fallen limbs bore lichen and fungus; holly berries shone for Christmas.
Jackie photographed a bouncing squirrel
and a pedestrian me.
Ponies were mostly waiting expectantly at the far end of close. What for was unclear.
blooming yesterday morning. Here are the Assistant Photographer’s contributions. The first three are of Mrs Popple fuchsias and a giant which has lost its label; next is a white solanum with the bright blue Ali Baba planter in the background; the hanging baskets following contain petunias and bacopas; next, not actually a flower, are bejewelled weeping birch catkins; and finally we have raindrops on black eyed Susans.
Mine were chrysanthemums of varying hues, still hot lips, and, believe it or not, yellow antirrhinums.
Before lunch today we took a short drive into the forest, via
Lower Sandy Down which offered
a number of autumn scenes.
Church Lane, running up and down from Boldre to Pilley, came next.
Jackie parked on a verge while I stood on the road bridge contemplating
the now fast-flowing stream and its reflections.
This tangle of oak branches and the weeping willow tresses were also visible from my vantage point.
At Pilley we encountered a number of ponies beside the lake,
and noticed that Foxglove and Twinkle now have chickens for company.
The cyclist who squeezed past these donkeys on the road must have been intrigued at the number of times we passed him as we wandered around in circles at this point.
Back at home Nick continued working proficiently yet at a rate of knots. Moving from room to room as he put curtains back up and another coat of paint on the door in the sitting room; he further prepared the kitchen and added paint to walls and ceiling. One of the horrors he had to deal with was the hole in the lath and plaster wall into which had been driven by our predecessors a bracket on which swung a large fridge that blocked the doorway during their residence.
Unfortunately our craftsman will have to leave the work in the kitchen until after 19th January which is the earliest that Barry Chislett-Bruce can repair our leak. Reflecting their reliability and the quality of their work, both these men, thorough experts in their fields, are very busy, so we are happy to wait.
This evening we dined on crisp oven fish and chips; green peas; piquant pickled onions and gherkins, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank Prestige de Calvet Cotes du Rhone Villages 2019.
On an unseasonably mild morning of sunshine and showers we drove into the deserted forest where Jackie decanted me at a few unpopulated points where I wandered with my camera.
Had we been in a hurry down Beckley Road we might have had a closer than comfortable encounter with an approaching van.
Fortunately Jackie had parked on a verge while I photographed autumnal woodland with its yellowing leaves fallen on soggy ground and clinging to dripping trees.
Our next stop was along Rhinefield Road where I rustled leaves underfoot while seeking further fall images.
Passing under the A31 and pausing on Linwood Road I walked back to photograph
reflections in a recently replenished pool, whilst taking in
pleasantly hazy landscapes,
one of which camouflaged a pair of grazing ponies.
Cattle hunkered down among the gorse.
We continued through Appleslade where
the glowing hillsides whispered to the sunlit trees opposite a naked windswept silhouette.
From our high vantage point I watched a close encounter as a pair of horse riders approached and, hopefully keeping social distance, crossed paths with a pedestrian couple. Perhaps they passed the time of day.
On the road above Ibsley ford as I photographed
sunlit woodland we could hear cries of children playing in the grounds of Moyles Court School, like others, currently being kept open. This is not so for pubs, which must be disappointing for the staff of
Elm Tree on Hightown Road who have installed a magnificent poppy display in the now closed garden.
Nick has continued painting woodwork in the sitting room
and wrestling with preparation in the kitchen.
This evening we dined on a second sitting of Hordle Chinese Take Away’s fine fare, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Malbec.
First published in 1936, just three years before the outbreak of World War 2, “Eyeless in Gaza” is possibly Aldous Huxley’s most acclaimed work. His familiar themes of the tension between emotional and intellectual lives of his privileged hedonistic characters are explored in depth with his usual insightful knowledge of these self-centred human beings. He also deals with the conflict between warfare and pacifism in a far-sighted way which resonates uncannily with our modern conflict between self-seeking hate and generous love. Sexuality in this work is seldom generous, sometimes manipulative, and often short-lived.
The language and the dialogue is always fluent with much easy, poetic, description, and occasional adventurous episodes.
I finished reading my somewhat careworn first edition today.
The remnants of the green shield logo of Boots Book-lovers’ Library and what looks like a peel-resistant borrowers record inside the back one suggest that my copy began life as an item on those shelves.
The lending libraries were established within branches of Boots across the country, employing dedicated library staff whose training included examinations on both librarianship and literature.[2] Boots’ libraries displayed books for browsing on open shelves[3] at a time when many public libraries had closed access. A catalogue of the books available was first published in 1904.
Subscriptions were available in Classes A and B, the latter being restricted to borrowing books at least one year old, as well as a premium ‘On Demand’ subscription.[4]Boots Booklovers Library edition of The Saint in Europe
Books carried the ‘green shield’ logo on the front and an eyelet at the top of the spine.[5] Membership tokens were rectangles of ivorine[6]with a string similar to a Treasury tag; the string could be secured through the eyelet so that the token acted as a bookmark.[7]
Boots also briefly reprinted classic books at the start of the 20th century under the imprint ‘Pelham Library’,[8] named after the flagship Boots shop on Pelham Street in Nottingham,[9] and later sold books as ‘Boots the Booksellers’.’
My mother was regularly taking my brother and me to Wimbledon Public Library from the late 1940s, (https://derrickjknight.com/2012/05/25/miss-downs/) so the 1964 Act mentioned above obviously had no effect on our town.
Like dogs marking their territory, previous readers had left deposits throughout the pages. The burn marks on page 17 we assumed had been left by a pipe smoker – they singed through three pages; other small greasy spots, about which it was best not to speculate too much, filtered through an equal number of pages; I wondered whether any of the numerous finger prints of varying hues had been held on any national data bases.
Nick began to make headway on the coloured walls in the sitting room, whilst adding coats to the white and to the ceiling.
We left him to it this afternoon and shopped at Ferndene Farm Shop where there was no queue, then took a short drive into the vicinity of Burley.
I wandered among the woodland on the outskirts. The tree fungus sprouts from the fallen tree. Roughly in the bottom centre of the last picture can be discerned
a bouncing squirrel on its way to climb a small holly carrying a chestnut which looked rather more than it could chew.
The spreading oak tree on the way down the hill into the village now wears a golden cape. The Queen’s Head is Covid-closed.
The pool on Forest Road has completely filled up now, and was reflecting nicely in the late afternoon sun.
Autumn leaves rested beneath the water.
On Bisterne Close a young foal was undertaking an apprenticeship in hedge clipping.
We have become Elizabeth’s bubble; she joined us for dinner which consisted of Jackie’s cheese-topped shepherd’s pie; crunchy cauliflower and carrots; firm green beans; and meaty gravy. Cherry pie and cream was to follow. The Culinary Queen drank Hoegaarden while Elizabeth and I drank more of the Faugeres, which involved opening another bottle.
