A Day To Defeat The Dreariness

After another enjoyable and positive chiropractic session with Eloise it was decided that my next appointment could be in two weeks time.

We then deposited four waistcoats and a jacket with White’s dry cleaners in New Milton, afterwards visiting the very friendly, helpful, and efficient Robert Allan, jewellers.

Even I have three devices which, adjusting for break in service, changes in time zones, and British Summer Time six monthly tinkering, automatically display the time of day the minute the screen has been switched on.

So why do I need watches?

First, because I am of an era before digital technology and have always looked at my wrist to tell the time – even when I am not wearing a ticking dial strapped there.

Second, because each of my wrist watches and my one fob watch have emotional significance for me. It will be ten years in October

since my brother Chris bequeathed me his fob watch presented to me in a box of her own making at his funeral.

Possibly 30 years ago, having been sent to walk around Oxford Circus for forty minutes in order to let eye drops settle after an optometrist’s examination at Dollond and Aitchison, I spotted a closing down sale at a jeweller’s which is now a Shelly shoe shop. In the window, at half price, was my

Longines battery operated chronometer which has kept time to the second ever since, unless it runs out of battery. Incidentally, when the optometrist told me there was no change in my sight, I asked why, then, could I see very little in my left eye? This prompted the check. The reason for the deterioration was the result of damage incurred by a cricket ball when I was 14.

Finally, when I retired in 2010 our friend Jessie gave me my kinetic Tissot watch, again a perfect timekeeper, which is beginning to need extra winding.

Within twenty minutes Robert Allan had replaced the batteries and told me that the winder could be operated manually.

We then lunched at Camellia’s restaurant in Everton Garden Nurseries, where we enjoyed excellent, perfectly cooked meals, at very reasonable prices. We joined a fast moving queue where we could see trays of all the meals being presented, making for simple choices. Friendly service at the till was followed by our food being brought to our table by equally pleasant waitresses. The wait was not long, especially considering how fresh the cooking was.

As has become customary, Jackie made these internal photographs

of the outlet itself, making sure not to include any of the customers in the extensively packed dining area;

of the menu and the specials board;

of the splendid cake displays, and the free bottles of water,

and, of course, our meals – her warm panini with tuna, cheese, and onion stuffing, fresh salad and crisps –

and my tender steak in red wine casserole with freshly cooked vegetables.

After lunch we took a trip to the east of the forest where we

encountered damp ponies at East Boldre, but not much else worth photographing.

The header picture is to make Ian wish he were here.

This evening we all dined on pork spare ribs in barbecue sauce and Jackie’s colourful savoury rice with which she drank Reserva Privada Chilean Rosé Cuvée 2021 and I drank Mighty Murray Shiraz.

Across The Park

Late this morning Jackie drove me to my appointment with Chiropractic Eloise Moody, who showed me the x-rays of my neck and explained their story with the aid of a model. The upshot is that she is able to halt the process, and ease the pain, but not reverse it, which is pretty much what I had hoped for. We began a course of treatment which will continue on Monday.

Afterwards I took a walk through the park opposite. Squelching through sward, still soggy from another night of rain ceased this sunny day

I photographed graffiti across the green, including passers by, a man seated on the brick wall beneath the artwork, and a standing mobile phone user.

The dog of the man in the second picture frolicked with two friends, one of which attempted to snot my trouser leg.

Two friends asked me to photograph them.

I was able to walk from the art-wall through a private car park to Station Road and thence to the public one where my Chauffeuse awaited.

This evening we all dined on slow-roasted rolled breast of lamb; crisp Yorkshire pudding; boiled new potatoes; crunchy carrots; firm Brussels sprouts, broccoli, and cauliflower, meaty gravy, mint sauce, and redcurrant jelly, with which Jackie drank more of the white Zinfandel and I drank more of the Garnacha.