Christmas decorations – derrickjknight

Christmas Carols

On a bright, sunny, and chilly morning Jackie drove me to Sears Barbers in Milford on Sea for my haircut.

The shop is opposite the green where all the regular Christmas decorations have been renewed.

The post box can be seen from the barbers.

Alongside the two decorated boxes stand the car park bollards.

While I wandered among the fresh craftwork I was entertained by a group of melodious carol singers.

The three kings, shepherds, angels, sheep, lambs, and Mary and Joseph with the crib were all newly painted.

Benches and waste bins all bore new decorations;

the wicker deer may have survived intact from last year.

Many of the shops sported festive windows.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s authentic Chicken Jalfrezi, with Butter Chicken for Flo and Ellie, and savoury rice, sprinkled with cropped coriander, and parathas, with which I drank Hacienda Uvanis Garnacha Old Vines 2020.

“I Don’t Want To Have To Pick You Up From The Floor”

During much of the day I struggled with BT who have chosen to deny that I continue to have an account while they are taking payment for it but blocking access to it so I can’t check what they might be extracting. I have better things to do than persist at the moment.

This afternoon I published https://derrickjknight.com/2021/12/20/a-knights-tale-80-samson-is-welcomed/

Jackie made further progress with the Christmas decorations. As can be seen, Santa has been checking out the chimney. I am not allowed to assist because the Maintenance Department says she doesn’t want to have to pick me up from the floor.

This evening we dined on the Culinary Queen’s flavoursome stewp and fresh crusty bread and butter with which I drank more of the Merlot.

Byron Road 2021

Early this afternoon, our neighbour, Gordon, visited. We enjoyed a convivial conversation in which he expressed pleasure to hear that the article he had given me from a 1928 edition of The Mansfield and Sutton Times had appeared in my post ‘Patent Love’.

Later, I scanned the next four of Charles Keeping’s inimitable illustrations to ‘Dombey and Son’.

‘She lay like a horrible doll that had tumbled down’

‘Miss Tox took him on her lap’

‘Pinning him by the legs, the children claimed him as their friend’

‘Their heads all but touching, in their hurry and decrepitude’

The organisers of Byron Road Christmas decorations in Barton on Sea have this year dedicated their annual fundraising display to

the NHS.

We made our visit after dark this afternoon.

This evening we dined on well cooked pork chops with apple sauce; baby new boiled potatoes; crunchy carrots; and firm broccoli and cauliflower, with meaty gravy. Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Macon.

A Day Of Two Halves

We drove through tears wept with varying velocity and frequency by this morning’s miserable skies, first to Ferndene Farm Shop for the purchase of a Christmas tree, then to the forest for a drive.

On one side of Braggers Lane

a curious cow left its companions in a field in order watch the cars go by;

on the other, field horses enjoyed individual helpings of fodder,

while other bovines stretched out on the brow of a hill.

Some birches retained lingering leaves,

and mushrooms simulated flower petals.

This tree along Ringwood Road has been propped by a slab of wood for as long as we have been driving past.

After lunch we applied ourselves to preparing for Christmas. Jackie revised the present list and I made a start on the cards. We noticed how each year the numbers are reduced by death. As I typed this Jackie called out “I’ve just found Scooby on the Christmas list”. This was Becky’s dog who is buried in our garden.

Later, we visited the Everton Post Office to buy stamps and post a couple of cards abroad. By this time

the skies were smiling, so we diverted to

Barton on Sea to catch the sunset, then on to Milford on Sea where there was still enough light to catch

the Christmas decorations on the village green.

This evening we dined on second helpings of the roast chicken with fresh vegetables and Yorkshire pudding with which Jackie finished the Sauvignon Blanc and I drank more of the Rioja.

A Green Christmas

On a very damp and dull afternoon we drove to Fagan’s in New Milton for Jackie to buy me a Christmas present.

Later, when twilight was approaching we visited Milford on Sea to see the decorated village green.

The blustery weather was already wreaking a certain amount of havoc on the displays. I needed to tie back the laces holding the snow onto the first of the litter bins and couldn’t straighten the fallen figure on the second.

As Pam Wright is attributed for the work portrayed in the second gallery, each of the individual Christmas trees carries a similar notice telling us whose project it is.

All the dedicated benches bear decorations. One notice made me smile.

The Nativity scene is very artistic. A Father Christmas figure has fallen into Jesus’s crib.

Others adorn a row of posts lining the car park.

Elizabeth came to dinner which consisted of Jackie’s well-filled beef and mushroom pie; crisp roast potatoes; crunchy carrots and cauliflower; firm Brussels sprouts, and meaty gravy. This was followed by Sicilian lemon tart. The Culinary Queen drank Hoegaarden while my sister and I drank more of the Malbec poured from another bottle.

Continued Preparation

A fortnight ago, noticing that our fuel oil was rather low, I ordered a refill and was promised one before today. Overnight the tank was emptied and we had no heating this morning.

Opening with a plea of age and infirmity I rang the supplier early this morning. I then slipped into my trademark firm, quietly seething, tones which I am told can be quite scary. Further promises were made. I said I didn’t want promises. I wanted our fuel oil. Today.

It may, of course, be pure coincidence, but two hours later a tanker drew up outside and unloaded our oil. In fairness, I must acknowledge that all our previous service from WP Group has been exemplary. The next problem was resetting the boiler which had naturally stopped firing. With much trepidation The Maintenance Department set about this task. Soon she was able to cry: “I done it”.

Jackie continued decorating the house while I printed two more cropped copies of

her recent photograph of Nugget which we made into a couple of cards that didn’t need posting.

One was for Mum which we took to her today with a present. She had just been prescribed further antibiotics for a persistent chest infection.

It was past twilight when we left to visit Elizabeth to alert her to Mum’s condition. She was not at home so we took a diversion to Portmore to see if the residents had decorated the tree on the village green. They had, but as no electricity had been employed

we will need to return in daylight.

A murder of crows occupied high branches of other trees, but by the time I was poised with camera all but one straggler had flown off.

Later I phoned Elizabeth who was aware of Mum’s condition.

Back at home Jackie made her own photographs of her decorations.

This evening we dined on cream fish pie, green Brussels sprouts, orange carrots, and white cauliflower with which I finished the red Fleurie and Jacki drank more of the golden Sauvignon Blanc.

Hatchet Pond At Dusk

Today’s Christmas rose is this peach one from the patio bed.

The neighbouring clematis Cirrhosa Freckles festoons the grateful gazebo.

The now solitary pigeon still perches praying for the return of its deceased mate.

Nugget now spends much of his time outside the stable door where he enjoys sole use of the feeder by the house which is too close for other birds to risk.

“Where’s Nugget?” (56)

“Here I am”, he says.

While Jackie worked on the Christmas decorations I finished the cards which we posted later in

a suitably capped pillar box

at Everton Post Office.

By dusk we had arrived at Hatchet Pond

where other photographers focussed on ducks and swans.

Oh, dear. I seem to have pressed publish prematurely. Tonight we will dine on Jackie’s superb Shepherds pie with carrots, cauliflower and runner beans which will no doubt be perfectly cooked. I will drink Patrick Chodot Fleurie and Jackie will drink more of the Sauvignon Blanc.

Wishing All My Readers Happiness In Their Own Festive Season

CLICK ON ANY IMAGE TO ACCESS THE ENLARGED GALLERY

Much of today was spent writing Christmas cards.

It therefore seemed appropriate to present this selection from my archives,

from which readers can choose their own with my best wishes. In order of appearance, the three Christmas cards were designed by me aged 16, 17, and 18. They represent the three kings, the shepherds, and Mary and Jesus from the Christian Nativity story.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s excellent chilli con carne, savoury rice, and vegetable samosas, with which I drank more of the Cabernet Sauvignon.

“Our Husbands Don’t Know We’re Here With This Man”

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2ND DECEMBER 2017

Continuing internet problems mean that I am still two days behind with this post.

After a good night’s sleep we began the day with an excellent breakfast cooked by Mr Watts. We enjoyed the bonus of our host’s conversation whilst he cooked our meal and served us. He provided some of the information posted yesterday. We also exchanged details of knee problems. This is a regular topic for those of a certain age.

We were set up for the day with orange juice; cereals of our choice; a fry-up consisting of two eggs, two rashers of bacon, tomatoes and beans; toast and marmalade, and a large pot of tea.

Afterwards we set off by what we thought would be the pretty route to Melton Mowbray. In fact this contained numerous complex junctions and sometimes unclear signage. We determined to return by the M1.

One advantage we did discover was the, even on this dull day, pretty village of Rockingham,

and The Barn Tea Rooms,

outside which clematis Nellie Moser bloomed.

We enjoyed a coffee and a break in the delightful interior,

where one woman quipped that the husbands of her and her companion didn’t know that they were “here with this man”,

so I made sure that none but Jackie appeared in the photographs.

Our object in arriving soon after midday at Jasmine House in Sherrard Street, Melton Mowbray was to check out the location and parking potential for this evening’s meal. The town centre boasted a confusing one-way system, so this had been a good idea.

We then went on a driveabout. Our first discovery was the

Sibsey Trader

Windmill,

On the other side of the door to which

visitors find a flour-covered notice. The bell you are invited to ring is attached to the blue rope.

We couldn’t shift the rope, but were able to enter and look around the ground floor;

and watch the ground flour descend the chute which indicated that Nigel was upstairs working.

The current six sailed mill was built in 1877 to replace a large postmill that had stood slightly to the west of it. During the mid 1950s it was abandoned to decay. until restoration began in the early 1970s. Ten years later English Heritage returned it to full working order. Today it is producing a vast range of stone ground flours continuing the ancient craft of traditional wind milling.

One of the old sails lies beside the restored building.

Our next stop was at The White Lion pub in Whissendine,

where the Christmas decorations

featured a Nutcracker theme. The publican is a member of the Magic Circle who widely entertains a multitude of groups.

Back at Melton Mowbray we wandered around for a while, visiting Ye Olde Pork Pie Shoppe,

the windows of which enticed Jackie to make a purchase.

Louisa, Errol, Jessica, and Imogen arrived at Jasmine House on time and we enjoyed a splendid Chinese meal, excellent service and wonderful company. As always the grandchildren were delightful, especially in their joyful appreciation of their presents. Naturally their mother had given us first rate advice. It hadn’t taken long to decide that it was OK to open the gifts this evening.

We experienced a smooth journey back to Watts Lodge in Bicester.

Fire Up Above And Fire Down Below

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1ST DECEMBER 2017

This is being posted two days late because we went away for the weekend and I forgot to take my laptop charger with me.

You have to be quick to secure a Ferndene Farm Shop Christmas tree. Before setting off for Bicester, we bought one and

stood it in a bucket of water in the garden. The man operating the tubular apparatus that wraps the trees was a plant supplier who had popped into the shop for coffee and a cake. He found himself standing in for about ten minutes during which time he sold 7/8 trees.

Immediately afterwards we drove to Bicester in Oxfordshire where we stayed overnight at Watts Lodge, a Bed and Breakfast establishment operated by octogenarian Mr Watts, with help from his wife.

Having checked in we enjoyed a late lunch at Jacob’s Plough. My club sandwich and Jackie’s Caesar salad were very good and we were encouraged by the friendly staff to try Sainsbury’s Superstore for a charger I wasn’t optimistic, but we thought we would give it a try.

Jackie’s late former father-in-law grew up in a small thatched cottage which, as far as she can remember, stood on a site close to Sainsbury’s, now alongside a huge Travel Lodge. I am never very good at negotiating huge stores. This one was no exception. We parked on the top level of the car park. This was entitled Level 2. Even now I can’t remember the logic which was to take us down to the ground floor from which we had to ascend by travelator to the first floor of the store. Feeling like a rat in a maze, I wandered up and down several times without finding my way back into the shopping area, until a helpful customer explained the system. Among the various items of leads, cables, and suchlike, there was no such thing as a laptop charger.

Having returned to the rooftop car park I found the best aspect of the trip. The sun

was sinking

over the town

and I happened

to be standing at the best viewing vantage point, outside the door to Level 2.

I did my best not to notice the trampoline effect of the surface as I walked across the store roof. As she sat in the car, Jackie found the reverberations difficult to ignore.

I understand that Bicester was once a prosperous town which lost much of its prosperity after the Americans who had been based their during the second world war pulled out some years later.

Bicester Village is a fabrication It is a vast shopping development concentrating on the luxury market. Because of the boasted price reductions hopeful customers drive many miles to buy the designer goods. Many travel by train from London’s Marlebone station to the renamed Bicester Village (originally Town) railway station. They have no need to visit the old town. Once they have done their shopping they go home.

Opened in 1995 https://www.bicestervillage.com/en/shopping/ invites us to ‘Discover a world of luxury at Bicester Village, the region’s ultimate shopping destination. Home to more than 160 fashion and lifestyle boutiques, each offers savings of up to 60%, all year round.’

Needless to say, we didn’t visit this phenomenon, owned by Value Retail plc.

In the evening I walked into Pioneer Square and booked a table at Shakil’s restaurant.

On my return I was diverted into New Road, at the end of which stands a house which is reminiscent of our Byron Road. In this case just one man assembles this display in order to raise a considerable amount of money for charity.

The meal at Shakil’s was excellent. It had been wise to book, for the place was packed out. We were advised that the nearest parking spot was Sainsbury’s car park.We therefore returned to the superstore. The public toilets underneath the building were surrounded by firefighters and a couple of engines. All seemed under control, so up we went.once more. A deafening fire alarm reverberated throughout the car park. but no-one was leaving and we knew the fire had been extinguished. Of course the lift wasn’t working, so we walked downstairs and through an alley to the restaurant.

Jackie enjoyed her chicken something, as I did my lamb naga. We both drank Kingfisher.