bunting – derrickjknight

A Generation Gap

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I expected to run out of data this morning, so simply scanned a handful of photographs from the Little Venice Canal Cavalcade of May 2009. This is an annual event taking place in the canal basin within sight of Beauchamp Lodge, where I rented my counselling room.

This couple of women I found intriguing. The older lady carefully concentrating, swathed in black robes, a ring on her wedding finger; the younger in colourful T-shirt and skirt, wrists sporting a variety of bangles, a ring on her thumb. It was the younger person whose face was concealed from my view. Was this a generation gap? Were they related? How did they respond to each other’s appearance?

The two sides of the bank are spanned by an arched blue bridge, under which I have run many a time on a trip of several miles into west London along the towpath and back. Narrowboats are crammed into all the available mooring space.

The level bridge spans Warwick Crescent. Teeming crowds line both sides of the basin;

many souvenirs are on sale; someone has been busy with helium.

As they do at the nearby Notting Hill Carnival in August, drafted police officers enter into the spirit of the event as the Waterways Recovery service give them a ride.

For good measure I have added a Streets of London image of Powis Square W11 which had found its way into the same box of slides. This street is one of those accommodating the aforementioned Notting Hill Carnival.

I did, of course, run out of data, and am posting this in The Royal Oak. This is unfortunate because it means I have had to drink a pint of Razor Back. It would have been rude not to. I am now waiting to be joined by Jackie and Elizabeth for dinner here. Jacqueline will arrive a little later and stay for a couple of nights.

Sharing The Duchess Of Cornwall’s Bench

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According to Wikipedia: ‘The WI [Women’s Institute] movement began at Stoney Creek, Ontario in Canada in 1897 when Adelaide Hoodless addressed a meeting for the wives of members of the Farmers’ Institute.’

‘Born in 1915 out of the ashes of the First World War, the WI was initially sponsored by the government with a mission to help boost food supplies and energise rural areas. But the gatherings proved so popular, it soon took on a life of its own and its members set about righting wrongs, mounting surprising and enlightened campaigns, many of which were light years ahead of their time.’ This is an extract from Emma Barnett’s excellent 24th May 2015 article in the Daily Telegraph.

This year Milford on Sea is celebrating its own centenary in a witty exhibition of art and craft. We visited it this morning.

Most stationery objects around the village green have been adorned with the results of loving labour involving lanate thread and knitting needles. (See the contentedcrafter comment below – also crochet hooks)

Benches and bollards are bestrewn;

bunting bedecks trees and railings.

There are two lighthouses, one bearing a bird.

A gull, reflected in The Village Coffee Pot window, perches atop the pillar box.

Other birds, woodland creatures, insects, a lizard, flowers, vegetables, an octopus, starfish and seashells, cling in abundance to the bollards.

Noddy, Rupert Bear, an elf, a guardsman, a little boy, and an elderly couple occupy the benches.

Just when I thought I had covered everything, a woman asked me if I’d seen the spiders in the tree by the car park. I hadn’t, so I wandered down to put that right. There was also a blue tit in residence.

I engaged in conversation with a gentleman resting his backpack on a bench while he studied his Ordnance Survey map. He was from Leicester and, as part of his aim to walk around the coast of England, was undertaking the stretch from here to Mudeford today. The Duchess of Cornwall seemed quite happy to allow him to share her bench.

Paul and Margery came for a visit this afternoon. We enjoyed our conversation as usual.

This evening we dined on roast belly of pork, Yorkshire pudding, crinkly kale, crunchy carrots and new potatoes. Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Médoc.

A String Of Pearls

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A week ago we had celebrated Shelly’s birthday at a party in her garden sheltering under a marquee from the sun. Today it was the turn of Ron’s 70th.

This time raindrops dripped from that same tent. The 70 bunting, blown by the wind, stuck, upside down, to the awning.

Of the guests, numbering some forty people, only the hardened drinkers availed themselves of the somewhat soggy outside protection.

It was definitely a day for umbrellas.

Most of the guests gathered inside.

Some, who knew each other, were pleasantly surprised at each other’s presence.

Last week’s event had been mostly for family members. This one was largely attended by friends, but grandparents, like Helen putting on Billy’s shoes

or simply revelling in Max, were welcome.

Great aunts, Shelly

and Jackie also made much of Max,

who maintained a firm grip on Jackie’s pearls;

while his brother Billy wheeled his cars across the table.

Stephanie did manage to have a go with her younger son when the older generation allowed it.

Ron had thoughtfully provided a quiz spanning the seventy years of his life ‘in case no-one turned up’. He needn’t have worried about that. Bill

and other guests got stuck into this with bemused enthusiasm.

Donna was perhaps exempt from this game because her partner, Neil, was involved in the marking.

None was more surprised than Jackie and me when we won the competition, possibly because Becky and Ian had arrived after the judging had begun. Our daughter had completed the test on her own and in a hurry, yet scored only one point less than us.

Jackie’s chicken jalfrezi with sag or peas ponir and savoury rice was a great success. All was eaten in a very short space of time except for one helping saved by a guest who wished to wait until he had room for it.

LordBeariofBow’s comment below provides this most appropriate addition: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jg2vtWezWbw Thanks, Brian.

Shelly’s fish pie and lasagne were also excellent, as were trifle and cakes produced by Jackie’s two sisters. Red and white wine and various beers were imbibed.

Blackberrying Donkeys

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I had an interesting conversation at my bank this morning. For some months now there have been placed several bowls of sweets on the counters, for customers to consume. I commented that they still had these on offer. ‘We do look after you’, was the response. ‘Hmm’, I observed. ‘Do you know what letter I received this morning?’ ‘No’, was the reply, ‘I left home before the postal delivery’.’The bank is no longer paying interest on current accounts’, I informed the teller. I was transferring money to France. I doubled the amount. My money might as well be under the mattress.

This afternoon Jackie drove us to Lyndhurst to buy birthday presents, after which we went on a driveabout.

As we left three spiders were waiting in the centre of their webs in the front garden. When we returned, almost three hours later, none had moved.

It is still hot and humid in our environment. With children back at school, the family holiday season is over, but Lyndhurst High Street was still teeming with older visitors,

many of whom were enjoying ice creams

purchased from one or other of the thriving purveyors.

The street is well stocked with gift shops, of which Goose Green is a fine example.

At the top of the High Street, on the corner opposite the church of St Michael and all Angels, stands the Lyndhurst Antiques Centre in which Elizabeth holds a cabinet. We took the opportunity to view this and were very impressed with the quality of her stock. We did buy one of the birthday presents from another dealer. It would be too much information on this post to reveal the details.

Next to this centre there is the double-fronted Down to the Wood, stocked with well-made wooden items. We have shopped there in the past.

On the road in the vicinity of Beaulieu, a number of elderly, stately, open-topped motor vehicles were taking the warm air. Some were going at quite a lick, but not as fast as this dodgy photograph suggests.

Also pictured through our car windscreen were some of the many donkeys blackberrying in the hedgerows. You or I might carefully select our berries, pick them off one by one, and drop them into a container brought along for the purpose. Not so these equine creatures. They just chew the whole branch. We had to stop and wait, so I didn’t need to rush the shot.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s delicious Lamb jalfrezi, parathas, and onion rice with an omelette on top. I drank Mendoza Parra Alta malbec 2016.