Ramblings
Another day of steady rain
washing windswept windows;
greasing patio paving;
puddling paths;
pearling maple branches;
glazing garden views;
dowsing patient sparrows;
refreshing colourful 
camellias,
and pink prunus Autumnalis,
ensured a day of Hardy reading and through-the-window photography.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s spicy chicken curry and savoury rice followed by baklavas with which I drank more of the Cabernet Sauvignon.
Storm Jorge is not due to hit us until tomorrow. Just to get us in the mood, dispiritingly drizzly rain seeped from solid slate skies throughout the day. Even heavy rain would have been more stimulating.
Mostly I read, except when I donned a raincoat and wandered around the garden testing my camera’s imperviousness to the water that
glistened all surfaces
and bejewelled crocuses sagely keeping closed;
camellias on the bushes and
on the ground;
head-bent hellebores –
even those standing proud.
I realised today why these flowers invariably hang their heads.
They come equipped with their own umbrellas.
Daffodils,
primroses,
and mahonias brighten
the beds.
Raindrops cling to boughs until sliding down to drop to the ground.
This evening we dined at The Wheel Inn. Portions are so plentiful that we both opted simply for mains. Jackie enjoyed the thick, meaty house burger with chips and salad while I chose beer battered cod, chips and peas with tartar sauce. The crispy batter was better than most fish and chip shops could produce. Mrs Knight drank Kaltenberg and I drank Rioja.
Although Dennis kept the wind up throughout the night and the morning, the rain desisted and some of the rainwater subsided.
The swirling skirts of the weeping birch gave testimony to the strong breezes.
Aaron had cleared up much of the garden debris yesterday, and no further untidiness manifested itself. Daffodils, snowdrops, camellias, and more, have survived.
With followers like mine it was clear what our afternoon’s drive should entail. We dutifully made our way to South Sway Lane and our equine friend in the sodden field.
Much of the water had returned to the river and the pony was happily once more chomping on grass,
taking time to polish her hooves
and drink from the normal stream.
I must admit to feeling somewhat rejected as she determinedly pursued her grazing.
It was when Jackie called to ask me if I had the carrot that the mood changed. The animal lifted her head, whinnied “did someone mention carrots?”, and trotted over to the barbed wire fence.
She was quick to relieve my outstretched palm of an extra-long Tesco’s finest root vegetable.
Far too quick for the Assistant Photographer who hadn’t enough time to focus her camera and had to settle for my subsequent question about the subject’s satisfaction with her meal.
We returned home through driving rain.
This evening we dined on succulent fillet steaks, luscious ratatouille, and crisp potato wedges coated in herbs and garlic. Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank Patrick Chodot Fleurie 2018.
The moon still shone brightly as Jackie went out to photograph
the pastel pink dawn
as it tinted the roof tiles over the gabled bedroom that harboured John Corden on his recent visit.
Although we had suffered a little more damage such as fallen pots, supports, and owls on the decking,
the camellias continue to proliferate.
These views along and beyond the Head Gardener’s Walk show snowdrops, bergenias, camellias, and primulas,
another row of which, happily hindered by Nugget,
Jackie planted this morning. The labels lying on the soil are marking lily and gladiolus bulbs also inserted therein.
“Where’s Nugget?” (66).
The Assistant Photographer produced all these photographs, including this lovely composition of
cyclamens, vinca, and cherub sculpture.
This evening for dinner, Jackie produced baked gammon; piquant cauliflower and broccoli cheese; creamy mashed potatoes; and sautéed leeks mixed with chopped cabbage. I finished the Squinzano and Jackie abstained.
Jackie produced a few photographs of dawn this morning.
Although the skies would darken with rain squalls and the windspeed increase at intervals after lunch the morning was brighter and the speed 45 m.p.h.
I toured the garden investigating what turned out to be very little damage.
The patio planters in front of the French windows were unscathed;
a few pots, like this one on the Kitchen Path,
and this beneath the clematis Cirrhosa Freckles, had toppled;
a few slender branches had been ripped from the copper beech and the weeping birch;
the already disintegrating rose arch had lost a piece of its top;
the back drive gate had shed some of its screen;
empty compost bags had been blown about a bit;
but many areas, such as the Shady Path were unscathed.
Nugget’s Wisteria Arbour was intact. “Where’s Nugget?” (67)
This afternoon the weather alternated between dark sleet showers and bursts of sunshine during which
darting blue tits took what opportunities they could to grab a peck
between those squabbling sparrow trapeze artists swinging on the swaying feeders
from which they spilled more than they consumed.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s spicy pasta arrabbiata plentifully packed with peppers, mushrooms, onions and garlic. The Culinary Queen drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Cabernet Sauvignon.
This morning, fearing for the garden during the very heavy storm we are due to experience tomorrow, Jackie wandered around our plot with her camera in order to record such an unusual array of blooms for this time of the year.
First, she had to pander to Nugget who was convinced that his fans would like to admire his back view.
Tete-a-tetes and irises were doing well,
as were snowdrops, primulas, and bergenias.
We hope a variety of camellias will survive.
The autumn sculpture has sprouted lichen curls to blend with his mottled skin.
Dragons and hellebores are hoping for the best.
Daphne odorata marginata,
wood anemones,
crocuses,
pulmonarias,
and euphorbias all add their splashes of colour which we hope will not be watered down.
For lunch we joined Mum and Elizabeth at Woodpeckers, Colton Care home.
It is my sister’s birthday.
She complimented our mother on
enjoying lasagna which is ‘foreign food’ to someone of her generation. The others also chose lasagna; my choice was cod in parsley sauce. We all enjoyed lemon tart with cream or ice cream.
After the meal Elizabeth drove Mum on a trip into the forest while we
left the birthday present on the Pilley doorstep.
A little later the two ladies arrived at our house to finish the afternoon with tea and Victoria sponge.
Jackie and I dined this evening from bowls of Hordle Chinese Take Away’s delicious fare on trays on our laps while watching recordings of the afternoon’s Six Nations rugby Internationals between Wales and Ireland and between England and Scotland. The second match took place in swirling gales and lashing rain such that neither side deserved to lose. It is a wonder that anyone could play at all. I drank Coonawarra Cabernet Sauvignon 2018.
It was a shame that we were only due sunshine and lack of rain this morning, because I needed to be at home for the Openreach engineer engaged by BT. I won’t dwell on this, but, although the man turned up on time the problem is not resolved. It didn’t help that he hadn’t been told what Friday’s engineer had done and that he had been sent for an installation rather than a repair. Another technician is to attend tomorrow.
I did manage to wander round the garden before heavy rain set in for the afternoon.
We have numerous hellebores;
a prolific variety of camellias;
iris reticulatas;
and snowdrops coming into bloom throughout.
One of the occupants of the Dragon Bed cradles her egg;
another has recovered well after Aaron’s spinal surgery.
After lunch, with raindrops splattering on the roof of the car and slaloming down the windscreen, we took a drive into the forest.
The watery Black Lane, in the murk, lived up to its name.
Many of our roads are now irrigated by overflowing ditches and waterlogged fields.
Braggers Lane, with its
rippling reflective bubbling pools stretching alongside, is a good example.
Despite the banked verges, the fields are very generous with their excess water.
Woodland is a little meaner.
A group of horses, some wearing waterproof rugs, simply tolerated the downfall.
Further along, on Thatchers Lane, fallen. lichen-coated branches, recently at home on dry land, are reflected in their own pools. Drinks cans now bob beside them.
Long haired goats foraged in the grass alongside Fish Street. One inquisitive creature raised its head briefly before getting on with its late lunch.
Sheep sheltering on London Lane wondered why I was standing there getting wet.
At Avon thatchers seemed to have called it a day. It seemed a good idea, so we set off for home.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s nicely matured sausage casserole; crisp roast potatoes; firm Brussels sprouts; and tricolour carrots with which I finished the Malbec.
I have to acknowledge that I seem to be out of step with more regular reviewers of The Favourite which we watched on Prime after dinner yesterday.
I am not competent to comment on the historical accuracy of this story of the last years of Queen Anne, a very sad eighteenth century English monarch; nor for the depiction of Court life of the period. But maybe that is not the point of the film which focusses on the battle between two women for the position of Royal Favourite.
The three stars of Yorgos Lanthimos’s alleged tragicomedy offer undoubtedly excellent performances. Olivia Colman and Rachel Weisz certainly deserved their awards. Emma Stone was also very good. Unfortunately, although one could sympathise with each of them in their own struggles I found it impossible to like any single character in the film.
It was an assault on the senses, not least for dirge-like banging music(?) and weird cinematography seemingly making use of a fish-eye lens and dizzying panning effects. Tragic, yes. Comic, not for me. Maybe I just don’t find it easy to laugh at people who are struggling.
Today was another of unceasing gloom.
This morning we each took our cameras into the garden at different times.
My pansies were photographed in the front garden, Jackie’s, somewhat nibbled, at the back;
Jackie photographed bright magenta cyclamen while I pictured the stone cherub reclining against the tree trunk beside them;
the first two pelargonium images are Jackie’s;
two more are mine;
The Head Gardener produce her own photos of her pelargonium cuttings in the greenhouse;
she also photographed her stumpery, with watching owls and brown grasses;
vinca;
bergenia;
hebe;
viburnum;
mahonia;
cineraria;
euphorbias Silver edge and Rubra;
and primulas.
I contributed a range of camellias.
Soon after lunch we drove into the soggy forest, where the green at Bramshaw has been ploughed up by the hooves of
mucky sheep;
dismal donkeys;
and mud-caked cattle.
We each photographed a weather vane. Jackie’s bore Father Time,
mine a pair of geese.
A pair of riders road past.
Nearby a robin tweeted to one of a trio of
miniature be-rugged ponies.
Further on, approaching Newbridge we encountered
another herd of cattle. The second of these two photographs of Jackie’s includes a redwing and a crow, two of the avian entourage
accompanying the bovines.
Here is a redwing
and a wagtail.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s spicy chicken Jalfrezi, savoury rice, vegetable samosas, and parathas with which I finished the Garnacha Syrah while the Culinary Queen abstained.
Jackie took an early morning walk around the garden with her camera.
First she produced general frosted garden scenes;
then focussed on various similarly coated leaves;
not forgetting Camellia blooms;
or Nugget in his thermal vest. “Where’s Nugget?” (62)
Late this afternoon we drove to Elizabeth’s house at Pilley where we joined her, Danni, Andy and Ella for the infant’s first birthday celebration. Elizabeth produced an excellent spaghetti Bolognese with fresh salad and garlic bread. This was followed by a most moist carrot birthday cake. Jacki drank Hoegaarden; the rest of us various red wines. Ella abstained.
For the second time today Jackie took all the photographs.
Ella continues to be a great pointer. In the second of these pictures she is clearly aiming for the camera.
She is gaining confidence in furniture walking even though the process gets a bit tight at times;
sometimes she forgets she is meant to hold on.
The one-year old enjoyed opening her cards
and presents;
the wrapping paper bearing various animals was equally attractive to her.
Her birthday cake candle especially delighted both her and her mother,
Danni.
In truth she was past caring when it was time to eat the cake.
Knowing that we were to expect further stormy weather today, Jackie helpfully took her camera into the garden at dusk yesterday and photographed
primulas,
cyclamens,
bergenia,
hellebores,
camellias,
clematis cirrhosa Freckles,
a pelargonium,
a mahonia with accompanying New Zealand flax,
snowdrops,
and Daphne odorata marginata all in bloom.
The Generous Gardener rose set to climb the recently heavily chopped cypress has taken well.
While she was at it the Assistant Photographer also added a fern owl for Pauline’s benefit.
Just about avoiding the rain that was to follow we drove early into the forest.
On Barrows Lane a row of daffodils were already in flower.
We were, yer honour, proceeding at a gentle speed along the narrow, winding Lower Mead End Road when
distant headlights reflecting on the wet tarmac alerted us to the approach of an oncoming vehicle,
As always in such a situation someone has to back up. Jackie is of the opinion that this is very rarely a BMW driver. So it proved today. My Chauffeuse did the gentlewomanly (You are chauvinist, WP – I did not type gentlemanly) thing and reversed until there was some degree of passing space.
Polite waves were exchanged as the gentleman in the other vehicle sailed by and we continued driving through the pools ahead.
The woodland and Boundary obscured grazing ponies,
yet cattle were quite visible among the moorland gorse.
You could be excused for imagining that this picture of Sway Tower against streaky pastel skies was produced either at sunset or sunrise. In fact it was 11 a.m.
After lunch Jackie brought back my first Easter egg from Tesco’s where these delicacies had been on sale for at least a week. Like the pictures that began this post her intention had been that I might like to “put it on the blog”.
This evening we dined on succulent roast beef, crisp Yorkshire pudding, creamy potato and swede mash, and firm, tasty, Brussels sprouts and carrots with which I drank more of the Garnacha Syrah and Jackie drank Maury 2013.