cloudscape – Page 2 – derrickjknight

Rosie Lea

This afternoon Jackie drove Becky and me on a recce through the waterlogged forest. On another reasonably warm day, we enjoyed a little sunshine and a lot of showers.

The first stop was near Wootton Bridge on the way to Brockenhurst.

There we encountered expanding pools of water on the forest floor,

a swollen stream,

intermittent sunshine,

and moody clouds above.

Becky’s red coat brightened the landscape a bit.

Soon after we continued our journey, I spotted a pony mother and child foraging by the roadside, and prevailed upon my driver to stop. As I emerged from the car, my potential subject, completely oblivious of oncoming traffic, stepped into the road and made a beeline for me. Wary of the ticks these creatures carry, I returned to the passenger seat.

Becky photographed our friend through the back window.

The beast then walked round to my door and I took over the camera.

Our continuing progress was then briefly impeded by another pony in the road.

Eventually we arrived at Brockenhurst where the sun now shone on oaks

and lichen alike.

It was time for Rosie. A cup of, that is.

For those readers unfamiliar with Cockney Rhyming slang, tea is Rosie Lea, truncated by omitting the second word.

The proprietors of Rosie Lea’s have chosen the full version in naming their tea shop which won the 2014 Hampshire Food and Drink Awards best tea/coffee shop and customer service awards. Incidentally the Bakehouse, that had the queue across the road yesterday, was the best baker. This photograph also doubles as a selfie for Jackie and me.

The cups and saucers in the cabinet photographed above are those used to serve tea in this establishment which also plays ’50s pop music for the customers.

Shortly before sunset we returned via Sway Tower, otherwise known as Peterson’s Folly.

Before building his monument, Judge Peterson erected a trial model, which is shown to the right of this picture.

Sunset was in its prime above Christchurch Road when we arrived home.

We will be eating rather late this evening. This is because Becky and Ian went out earlier and have been held up in traffic. But, fear not. I know what we will be having so I am able to include it and submit this post in reasonable time. It is beef hotpot, carrots, green beans, and cabbage, followed by profiteroles. I will drink more El Sotillo, Jackie will imbibe Hoegaarden, and I expect Ian will have a beer and Becky rose wine. The food will, of course, be cooked to perfection.

A Silver Lining

This morning Aaron started work on preparing the stairs and landing for redecoration.

Later, Jackie drove Becky, Ian and me to Molly’s Den.

Becky, who has been undertaking extensive and detailed market research since applying for places for a father and daughter team on ‘Bargain Hunt’, the TV antiques competition programme, had not yet visited our local emporium. We came to see this trip as a training exercise. Contestants have one hour in which to make three purchases which are then sold at auction.

We have experienced enough rain in the last 72 hours to make parts of the Christchurch/Lymington Road resemble a lake. Molly’s Den suffered considerable leakage through the vast warehouse roof. The staff had spent two and a half hours mopping up the water.

Most of the items for sale had been rescued, although the odd raindrops lingered.

We managed to cover all areas in our allotted hour, but did not make the required number of purchases. I bought Jackie an owl, and Ian bought Becky a brooch.

The presentations took place in Molly’s Pantry. When the two ladies received their brunches before Ian and me, they resolved my dilemma about being unable to photograph all the meals together by hamming up repetitions of their earlier delight.

Ian and I struggled through the plentiful all day brunches of excellent quality. The chef came to our table and apologised that he had run out of vine tomatoes. He needn’t have worried. The first-rate standard of the sausages, bacon, black pudding, baked beans, mushrooms, wedges of buttered toast, and perfectly fried eggs more than made up for it.

Jackie bought another two owls.

On our drive home we were reminded that every cloud has a silver lining. The rain had desisted and the sky was turning blue.

Close perusal of the pictures of Molly’s Pantry fare will render it unsurprising that neither Ian nor I required an evening meal, and a few samosas sufficed for the women.

Singapore Prints

This morning we drove Elizabeth to The Coastal Gallery in Lymington, where we admired good art works at, for us, prohibitive prices. On our return, my sister and I completed the task of printing Mr. Boyle’s black and white negatives from 1950s Singapore for Frances.

Here Patricia enjoys the swimming pool,

and in the garden with a local friend.

The artistic photographer pictured Frances gazing out to sea.

Perhaps mother and daughters are loading this van, or maybe making a purchase.

Here the sisters’ father sits reading.

He photographed them together,

and separately Frances,

Catherine,

and Patricia.

Danni and Andy joined us for lunch, after which we all drove to Barton on Sea, where the threatening clouds did not drop their precipitation, as they were penetrated by Jesus beams.

The young couple sat a bit closer to the edge of the clifftop than would have suited me. We ambled down to the shore so that Danni could dip her toes in the water.

Back at home we played Scrabble, until it was time for us all to dine at The Smugglers Inn at Milford on Sea. The service was friendly and efficient, the ambience convivial, and the food excellent. My choice was beef and horseradish pie, new potatoes and vegetables. I drank Doom Bar. None of us had room for a sweet.

Crunchy Cottage Pie

On a mild, dank, morning a friendly robin trilled a greeting from a neighbour’s birch tree, encouraging me to take my walk to Hordle Cliff top and back.

The daddy longlegs that had splatted against the bus shelter window during the summer is well on the way to becoming fossilised.

By the time I returned through Shorefield Country Park, the skies had cleared to reveal a splendid sunny day.

The rest of the 1982 black and white images that I scanned yesterday involve a stay in the Drapers’ home in Meldreth, and another with Maggie and Mike in Southwell. As far as I remember Jessica and I were house-sitting at ‘The Dumb Flea’ in Meldreth, so named after the Tudor public house it had been before its current extensions.

Matthew and Becky, who are seen here holding baby Louisa, decided to cook cottage pie for our evening meal. Having worked away in the hot kitchen, the two red-faced, glowing, children proudly placed the dish on the table and we all eagerly tucked in. The mashed potato topping was appropriately crisp and soft, but the filling was a little crunchy. And some. When Julie and Peter returned they explained the reason. They kept dogs. The children had used dog mince which must have been three quarters bone.

After their London wedding some years previously, Jessica and I had not seen Maggie and Mike until I ran my first Newark half marathon later in 1982. We visited them, not dreaming that five years later we would move to Lindum House. The story of the renewal of our friendship is told in ‘Mordred’.

We will miss the Emsworth family who returned home this evening. Becky sent a text saying ‘Look at moon’, so we did. It was full, with a halo and balanced the rear lights of cars speeding along the darkness of Christchurch Road.

Egg, bacon and chips was the perfect meal for anyone wishing to come down to earth from an extended festive season. That is what we ate this evening.

‘Your Own Back Yard’

I do hope my Hordle Cliff walk has not yet become boring for my readers. It is, you see, the safest route to take from the house. I trod it this pleasantly mild morning.
The cattle on the hillside seemed divided as to whether we were due more rain. Apparently they sit down when it is expected.
A solid bank of cloud over The Solent met the inland blue skies, forming a fascinating diagonal echoed by an evaporating jet stream.
Pondering on my ramble, I thought of Chris Weston. This other Chris had ably led a weekend tutorial on digital landscape photography. In September 2008 I was still using positive film to make colour slides, but knowing I would learn much from this man I accompanied Elizabeth on the weekend course. I was in fact the only person without a digital device.
The best place to seek out subjects, according to our tutor, is ‘your own back yard’, that is territory with which you are most familiar. He was fortunate in having Portland Bill on his home ground. He took us out on a splendid Dorset dawn, and let us wander. Elizabeth famously doesn’t do mornings, and had said the night before that she may not surface in time. As she staggered into the lounge where we were gathered, she received a round of applause.

Here are some of those early morning images:

Peering down through the rocks, many of which bore chiselled graffiti, produced interesting abstracts, and various artefacts such as rusty chains were enhanced by the early morning sun.
We also learned about the nature of light, the best for landscapes being early or late in the day. At midday the overhead brightness is too strong. We returned in the evening, when we took more pictures:

A couple sat among the rocks, as the clouds gathered against the setting sun.

The rock formation that is known as Durdle Door stretched out to sea.

This afternoon I decided to tackle BT. Again. This time in relation to the TV account. Since we moved home in April we have not watched much television. We have begun to do so a little, and have been having problems accessing BT iPlayer. Today a message came up on our screen informing us that there was a problem with the BT TV account, and giving a telephone number to ring. I called them. I was told that we should have activated the account when we moved. I said we had arranged for this when our account was transferred from our previous address. The adviser kept repeating that we had paid neither for activation nor the monthly charge since we left Minstead. I reiterated that our bills state, by a blue tick against the item, that they include TV from BT. Eventually I twigged what was going on. The BT representative was reading page 3, where the bill is broken down. I was looking at the total on page 1, which says ‘This bill is for:’ and lists Telephone, Broadband, and TV, all of which are ticked. No-one told us we should reactivate the TV separately when we arranged for the transfer between homes, nor that we were not being charged for the service. As I said, I didn’t examine the bills that intricately, given that the total was always more or less the same and listed the services opposite the total. Eventually the woman to whom I was speaking got the message and undertook to pass on my observations. I said I would do the same in the automated survey of customer satisfaction that would follow the call. I hope she had more luck than me because when answering the survey questions I was thanked for my participation and bade goodbye before I had finished. This was interesting in the light of the survey’s introduction statement that ‘we do listen to what you say’.

If I had any confidence in any other conglomerate offering a better service I would change our service provider immediately.

Danni came for a visit this afternoon and helped me produce one composite photograph and a couple of large individual prints for Frances of her muntjac deer. This involved investing in the Pages application for the iMac. Whilst this facility was being downloaded we wandered around the garden and disturbed a vole that was hiding behind the Heligan Path sign. Danni photographed it with her mobile phone.

Our niece left us briefly to dine with Andy and his mother and brother at The Royal Oak. Jackie and I enjoyed chilli con carne (recipe) and wild rice. She drank Hoegaarden and I drank Kingfisher. Then Danni and Andy returned to continue the conversations.