barbecue – derrickjknight

Culling And Chicken Jalfrezi

On another post-BCG vaccine procedure rest day I carried out more iMac photos culling.

Here are three survivors from https://derrickjknight.com/2012/08/02/reminiscing-with-don/

These from a trip to https://derrickjknight.com/2013/11/10/kelsey-park taken in October 1967.

and these from https://derrickjknight.com/2013/11/12/you-know-what-youve-got/

and from the following day: https://derrickjknight.com/2013/11/13/panettone-and-jam-pudding/

This evening we dined on Jackie’s authentic chicken jalfrezi and savoury rice. Pictures can go some way to showing the red-brown sauce with a turmeric-yellow base, but cannot convey the delicious aromas carried into the kitchen by this wonderful meal, with which I finished the merlot.

Ron And Shelley’s Barbecue

Shelly and Ron had managed to choose a day at the height of the heatwave for this year’s traditional summer barbecue. My leg had improved enough for me to

produce all these photographs without leaving my seat. Each participant is named in the gallery.

We enjoyed Ron’s usual splendid barbecue meats – lamb kebabs, beef burgers, hot dogs, and chicken pieces; Shelley’s wonderful salads; and tempting-looking desserts for which I had no room. Various beers, wines, and soft drinks were on offer. I had just one pint of beer, otherwise water – fizzy or tap.

A Knight’s Tale (89: Sam’s First Cut)

In September 1982 we shared a Gite with our friends Ann and Don in Brittany.

The group nearest the centre of this underpopulated beach at Bréhec include Jessica, Ann, and Sam.

a string of gleeful children danced their way to the ocean;

a lone woman passing them traversed the beach.

Hand in hand, Jessica and Ann led Sam into the water

and swung him to meet the wavelets.

Ann continued the gymnastics

while Jessica went for a paddle.

Sam dried off, and told his sister all about it.

On another occasion I watched a woman enjoying a paddle.

At our numerous barbecues Don was master of the coals.

It was at that time that Sam received his first cut. I still remember my sadness at my beautiful boy having suffered his first blemish. During Siesta time, when, of course, nothing was open, we came across a broken shop window. ‘Don’t’, said I, as our three-year old made a dive for the broken glass. Too late. He grabbed it and brought some away in the palm of his hand. Which I could not get him to open. Even if I could I would need a pair of tweezers. We found the duty chemist which was open. She had some tweezers. But how was I going to get Sam to expose his palm? She smartly provided the solution. Out came a bag of sweets. Our lad could not resist one. Poised, tweezers in hand, I knew I had, at best, one chance. Sam’s fingers spread tentacles and snaked out for the sweet. I swooped with the tweezers. The implement secured and withdrew the shard of glass. Sam ate his sweet and we bade the woman goodbye.

Ann bought an ice cream and provided a cuddle, and all was well.

One of the most memorable moments of this holiday was the return journey. Ann had decided she may have exceeded her tobacco allowance, so Jessica and I carried a quantity of our friend’s cigarettes in our car. We followed Ann and Don off the ferry. They waved as they drove off into the sunset. We were stopped and our yellow Renault was subjected to a full body search

A Family Event

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This afternoon we attended the third family event in three days. This was Shelly’s birthday party.

Here, Jackie’s sister Helen sits with Shelly’s mother-in-law Daphne.

Father-in-law Ray smiles beside Shelly and Malcolm, probably checking the cricket score on his mobile.

Ron, here taking a break and joining in the conversation,

tended the barbecue, providing flavoursome sausages,

tandoori chicken, and, later, minted lamb kebabs.

His son Anthony distributed hot dogs with onions, while Helen was on hand with mustard and ketchup.

Jane, being Anthony’s sister, is Jackie’s niece.

Reflected in the window behind Helen, is the father of

Immy

whose lithe grandmother, Jackie, is Ron’s sister.

David, son of Helen and Bill, holding the can and Neil, brother of Anthony and Jane, are cousins.

Here, probably wielding the same can, David stands with his wife, Jenny.

Friends Peter and Tess share a reflective moment.

Jackie sports two pairs of glasses and a pearl necklace.

Shelly and Ron’s sons converse with Neil’s partner, Donna;

Jane shares a tale with Immy’s mother, Katie;

Jackie and Jane catch up with each other as Bill makes his way back to his chair;

David and Jenny share a table with his parents, Helen and Bill.

As the sun lowered its way to the horizon the last few guests enjoyed coffee together. Anthony and Neil are always sure to produce a cricket bat and ball on these occasions. They had earlier enjoyed a few overs on the grass behind them.

Chris, with the longer beard, is Jane’s partner. Shelly stands between Tess and Bill.

In addition to the plentiful barbecued meats, various ladies had produced excellent salads, trifles, meringues, and cakes. My choice of beverage was Marston’s Amber Ale. We toasted the birthday girl with champagne.

As can be seen this was an enjoyable close family event.

The Lady Of Shalott

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This morning I made this crop of a photograph taken at Burley in May, and Jackie turned it into a birthday card for Bill, whose party we were to attend later.

Among the various tasks carried out by Aaron was heavily pruning a spent philadelphus.

Bending the branches took a bit of effort.

This fuchsia Delta’s Sarah is spreading along the west side of the patio.

A stand of petunias,

and these rather splendid potted lilies prepare for the arrival of the base for the greenhouse to be delivered during the week.

Dahlias continue to enliven the borders,

and the first Japanese anemones are springing up.

The agapanthuses are coming along nicely,

while the New Zealand hebe now attracts the bees, eager to fill their pollen sacs.

Priscilla, the frilly gladiolus is coming through in the New Bed;

roses like Peach Abundance are having another flush;

and paler pink echinaceas have risen to join the darker red ones.

This afternoon we travelled by car to Poulner where we enjoyed Bill’s birthday party. We sat and conversed in the pleasant company of Helen and Bill’s children David, Rachel, and John; Rachel’s fiancé Gareth and John’s wife Stephanie and their children, Billy and Max; Gareth’s mother, Mo, and stepfather Fred; Shelly and Ron; and. of course the birthday boy and Jackie’s sister, Helen.

Gareth got the barbecue going, taking us through the smoky stage.

John took over to give him a chance to clear the vapours from his eyes.

Between them they produced a variety of roasted meats to go with the salads prepared by the ladies.

Here is a group of the male guests reflected in a window.

Great aunts eagerly took it in turns to cuddle two and a half month old Max.

Jackie handed him to her younger sister

who eventually handed him back to his mother whose hands he explored.

Bill was his usual engaging self,

and, in a tub filled with plastic balls, his young namesake did a passable impression of Tennyson’s Lady of Shalott as painted by many Victorian artists.

I mostly drank a fine Argentine malbec, and sampled a splendid strawberry trifle and cream tea scone for dessert.

A Sausage And How To Eat It

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This afternoon we visited Danni and Andy for a housewarming barbecue. First we were given the guided tour of their lovely Victorian semi-detached house.

I couldn’t resist photographing their distant neighbours’ washing.

The contemporaries of my niece and her husband, some with their children, and older relatives like us, all enjoyed the produce of Andy’s barbecue, and salads made by Elizabeth and Helen.

I will mostly let the randomly placed photographs convey the joyful atmosphere.

Danni decided that I should be photographed, and chose to capture me demonstrating how to eat a sausage.

Needless to say, we needed no further sustenance on our return home.

‘Mum’s So Lucky’

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Aaron, who is A.P. Maintenance, made much further progress on the fencing he is now building to repel the abandoned North Breeze boarders.

I made him an A4 print of this shot. He was very chuffed with it.

The sunlight providing the dappled effect soon disappeared, so it wasn’t available by the time I noticed the gladioli Priscilla blooming in the New Bed.

Robin joined Aaron a little later, and they ran out of nails. Jackie and I bought some more from Mole Country Supplies.

This afternoon drove to Shelly and Ron’s barbecue in Walkford, a little later than planned. Jackie had made some wonderful rice and egg salads as a contribution to the event catering. In my keenness to render assistance in the transfer of the dishes to the car I had

a minor mishap with a fairly full glass bottle of balsamic vinegar that I managed to knock from a cupboard onto the tiles below.

Ever since 18th September 2013 when I perpetrated an even more disastrous spillage, we have had a catch phrase, ‘Mum’s so lucky……..’ This, it’s full form continuing ‘……… to have Dad to help her’, was coined by Becky to describe such an incident. Those words passed my lips as I began the task of clearing up.

We arrived safely, and enjoyed the usual brilliant barbecue with plentiful salads, and desserts. We shared a convivial and entertaining few hours with the usual gang, friends for over thirty years, and relatives, including Helen and Bill, Anthony, Neil,and Donna. I believe a certain amount of alcohol was imbibed.

Slightly Better Than Expected

The Canonical Hours are the seven prayer times in the day developed by the Roman Catholic Church. Ritualised offices are said, at three hourly intervals, in private or in groups. In her novel ‘China Court’, which I finished reading today, Rumer Godden has chosen to give each of her seven chapters a name of one of these hours.

Mediaeval books of hours offered hand-written and -illustrated devotional works. They are the most common manuscript works of the period. Each of Godden’s chapters is headed by quotations from two of these.

James Joyce spans just twenty four hours in his rather more lengthy ‘Ulysses’, but Rumer Godden’s tale, a saga of four generations of occupants of ‘China Court’, covers a much greater time span. So why has she chosen to present her work in this way? That, I cannot tell you, for it would reveal too much. It is well worth reading the book to find out.

There is, of course, much more to relish in the novel. Slipping seamlessly backwards and forwards through the years, we learn about those who have lived in ‘China Court’. Opening with the death of a key figure, holding all the tapestry together, it is the story of the house, but far more, of those who have lived in it. We are treated to the author’s trademark beautiful, descriptive, writing and her insightful characterisation. An example, which fits with the time theme, is how seasonable changes in the garden are detailed. Close attention has to be paid to the narrative, for so seamless are her time switches that they are unannounced, so you suddenly find yourself transplanted into the lives of other generations. If, like me, you read in bed, it is not advisable to tackle this one when you are sleepy.

Despite rain falling steadily all morning, Shelley and Ron persevered with their planned barbecue. By mid-afternoon the rain had cleared and the event continued, to be enjoyed by Jackie and me and most of the usual guests. Convivial conversation ensued. The delicious fare was similar to that provided on 9th. I drank Doom Bar and Jackie drank Carlsberg.

Traditionally, English Bank Holiday events are ruined by rain. This one wasn’t, as the weather was slightly better than expected.

Park Life Curtain Call

Today I finished scanning the Park Life prints from 20th July 1996. Here is the third and final set:

This afternoon, Jackie and I enjoyed a barbecue at Cathy and Rob’s in Highcliffe. This was the first dry day in four, so we were all very fortunate. Very good quality tasty burgers and sausages were supplemented by various plentiful salads, and cakes like Helen’s famous black forest gateau.

A Mirror Image

In erecting a climbing frame for the juvenile roses, Aaron completed his invaluable contribution to their playground. The top bar was the stair rail; the posts had been found lying about in the undergrowth; we bought the retaining spikes. Jackie couldn’t wait to plant the Aloha. Jackie drove us to Mat and Tess’s new home in Upper Dicker, for lunch. Becky and Ian arrived before us. August in our popular holiday area meant that the journey took three hours. After enjoying a splendid lunch and spending a most enjoyable family afternoon together, the return journey occupied half an hour less. Our son and his wife are in the process of buying The Village Shop, which I have featured several times, the spacious flat above it, and a two story outbuilding. Tess has been running this shop for some years now. This surprisingly spacious building, approximately 350 years old, is steeped in history, and full of character. We lunched on the garden table. As always, Tess catered admirably, providing an array of salads to accompany Mat’s proficient barbecuing of sausages and lamb chops. Various beverages were also consumed, and excellent coffee accompanied the DIY desserts.

The DIY aspect of this was to assemble your own selection from the choices on offer.

We were rather plagued with wasps. These fearsome little creatures swarmed over the table, some drowning themselves in the beer and wine, others escaping from the glasses.

Occasionally those we fished out of our drinks would shake themselves dry and crawl off in staggered zigzags.

Sunlight played tricks, making me think I was seeing one of the insects reflected on my napkin.

With the addition of nectarine juices to traces of wine, my lips became increasingly attractive to the vespas. I am firmly of the opinion that if you don’t disturb wasps, they won’t sting you. Therefore, when they choose to crawl on me, I leave them to it, grit my teeth, try not to emit the smell of fear, and hope for the best. Having two of them trample across your bottom lip, tests your resolve to the limit.

So it was today. I was reasonably courageous until I began to feel a pricking sensation. I wasn’t being stung, but it was getting a little uncomfortable. I eventually realised that one of the creatures was drilling into my lip in search of the source of the tempting juices. At that point I welcomed the attentions of Matthew and Jackie and their wafted serviettes.

Mat and Tess borrowed Scooby for a family photograph

that turned out to be almost a mirror image of one of Mat and Becky taken in Soho in May 1975.

Behind Mat and Tess is their additional building.