The Cow Scraped Under The Moon

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My sister, Elizabeth, has a library to rival my own. On her recent visit, as she is on the process of thinning her collection, she brought me two Folio Society novels that she thought I would like. She knew that I have other editions of each of these works, but not of these particular illustrated editions.

The first is

which I posted today.

When, shortly before dusk, Jackie and I set out for Hatchet Pond before shopping for vegetables at Brockenhurst’s Tesco Metro,

the moon sheepishly showed its face above Christchurch Road.

The pale sky above the pond, where mallards and coots paddled over breezy ripples,

bore scarcely any trace of the hoped for sunset.

a creamy cow scraped against a blended birch,

beneath the now more prominent satellite

sometimes peeping through naked branches.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s wholesome beef casserole; boiled new potatoes; and firm Brussels sprouts with which I finished the Malbec.

Keen To Chew Oak Cud

This afternoon I e-mailed a full set of yesterday’s dinner photographs to Becky. These included two more,

not posted yesterday, of herself and Flo taken by Jackie; and of her daughter with her grandparents taken by our daughter.

Later Jackie visited Ferndene Farm Shop, then took me on a short forest drive.

The preponderance of black foals outside Holmsley Campsite prompted speculation from a young woman to whom I spoke about how many had been sired by the same stallion. I mentioned that I had been told that the offspring of grey ponies never begin with their mother’s colouring although they may grow into it later.

Around the corner in Forest Road a cow, keen to chew oak cud, craned her neck to pull down a suitable branch.

Along Wilverley Road a posse of ponies played disrupt the traffic, while others grazed on greening grass. There a foal bore its mother’s colouring.

Later Jackie photographed a group of caterpillars sawing their way through the leaves of her variegated poplar in order to ask readers if anyone can identify them.

Yesterday evening Jackie’s Sampan dish was too hot for her so we ordered a Pasanda instead, and brought the hotter meal home for me this evening. I enjoyed it, served with Jackie’s omelette-topped savoury rice and a paratha. That, in football parlance, was a result. The others tucked into two types of prawn preparation instead. The Culinary Queen drank more of the French white wine; I drank more of the Shiraz; Dillon, Magner’s Cider, and Flo, a fruit drink.

Three Little Pigs

On this oppressively warm and overcast afternoon we took a brief drive into the forest.

Unobliging cattle grazing on Bull Hill took off across the road when I disembarked from the Modus to photograph them.

Jackie provided me with today’s title when she said that it was a shame that a fourth piglet joined the smallest trio we have ever seen loose during the pannage season. I therefore excluded the interloper. I trust the road markings will give an adequate indication of scale.

The recent ice cream and other summer symbols decorating crocheted letter collection box on Pilley Hill now sports current seasonal delights.

5 days ago we had to turn back when the trunk and limbs of this blighted oak blocked Undershore.

This evening Elizabeth came to dinner and helped us finish Angela’s authentic Chinese chicken and prawn curry with egg rice, spring rolls, prawn toasts, and wontons, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and my sister and I drank more of the Cabernet Sauvignon.

Head To Head

On a bright, crisp, afternoon Jackie drove us to Bisterne Close,

where she parked and sat in the car while I wandered into the forest with my camera, rustling the dried autumn leaves, across which the low sun cast long shadows. One lone cow wandered off into the distance. Golden gorse glowed; a few beech and oak leaves lingered on the branches; some fallen limbs bore lichen and fungus; holly berries shone for Christmas.

Jackie photographed a bouncing squirrel

and a pedestrian me.

Ponies were mostly waiting expectantly at the far end of close. What for was unclear.

This evening we dined on well roasted gammon and parsnips; creamy mashed potatoes; piquant cauliflower cheese; firm carrots; and tender green beans, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Comté Tolosan.

On A Hillside

Today was sunny and warmer than yesterday.

Jackie entered the garden for a weeding session. Within seconds Nugget was in attendance, taking time out from his under-gardener role to tweet sweet nothings to Lady, who kept out of sight.

“Where’s Nugget?” (63)

Ron continued sweeping up underneath his front garden feeder.

Jackie also photographed

hellebores,

irises,

and Daphne Odorata Marginata.

Since it was another sunny, somewhat warmer, day, and knowing that Hockey’s would be open today we brunched there to make up for yesterday’s disappointment.

Ponies were back on the moors alongside Holmsley Passage,

and in the Bisterne Close woodland,

where a lowing cow wandered down the lane and vanished into the shadows.

On a bracken covered hillside outside Burley

stood what seemed a somnolent quartet of grey ponies. I fact there was a bay among them, visible only to my camera.

On our return, just north of Ringwood we diverted along an unnamed lane which is in effect a cul-de-sac,

alongside which gnarled knuckles of mossy tree roots caught the sunlight.

A pair horses could be seen at the bottom of a field,

a gate to which bore an Alergy Alert.

This evening we dined on scrambled egg liberally laced with chopped spring onion; fresh salad, and toast.

Pilley Pool Replenished

Slate grey skies; gloomy light; steady rain. These were the weather conditions during our drive into the forest this morning.

Just outside Lymington we were delayed by a warning of witches’ hats strung out round a bend in the lane, no doubt having been abandoned after Halloween.

A couple of cows cropped the grass at Pilley Street where

shallow roadside pools reflected rain-washed parked cars.

Jackie parked the Modus beside the occasional bus-stop at the fully replenished Pilley quarry pit pool while I wandered around the perimeter.

 

Glistening golden oak leaves lingered on

lichen covered limbs

 

and mossy trunks;

or, loosened by the stiff breeze, cascaded down the sloping banks

vanishing beneath the surface of the water

swirling with raindrop ripples

ruffling arboreal reflections.

Fallen branches rear from the depths or stretch in tangled skeins across the surface.

On the far side of the lake bedraggled ponies nuzzled what nutriment they could from the soggy terrain.

As my shoes struggled with the mud’s suction I spared a thought for the owner of this trainer that may have succumbed.

It is difficult to believe that on 21st September I walked across the bed of this lake photographing grazing ponies.

The frost patterns on the flanks of this damp donkey rather belied the warmth of the day.

Leaving the pool we visited Mum at Woodpeckers. Jackie took this photograph as my mother demonstrated her improving smile. She has suffered a chest infection requiring two series of antibiotics. She has recovered from this, but still has a cough. She doesn’t see too well, but has all her marbles.

Later, Nick Hayter visited to estimate for decorating the kitchen and sitting room.

This evening we dined on a rack of pork spare ribs served with Jackie’s flavoursome savoury rice topped with an omelette, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank Scheiber Cabernet Franc 2015.

Fauna And Flora

This morning I watched the recorded Rugby World Cup quarter final match between England and Australia.

After lunch Jackie drove us into the forest where most of the free ranging animals were on display.

Donkeys with a foal basked in the sunshine at Bramshaw, where

another wandered up a lane towards the green occupied by

 

 

 

red brown and black Highland and other cattle.

In the vicinity of Nomansland we drove down a lane in Deazle Woods, up and down which a pair of walkers walked several times. Our paths continued to cross as we continued towards Newbridge. Each time I left the car with a camera they were there.

Here are some scenes of the woodland I wandered through.

Returning to the road from Nomansland we encountered a couple of sows with two piglets snuffling among the mud in search of mast.

One little piggy let out a fearful squeal as its mother butted it out of reach of one tasty morsel she wanted for herself.

Another donkey foal sat in the road as we approached Newbridge.

Sheep and cattle shared pasturage here.

One mother suckled her hungry calf. There was a certain amount of avid spillage.

A young lady speeding astride a sturdy steed seemed amused to scatter the sheep.

Just outside the village a small Shetland pony kindly enhanced my view of a backlit autumnal tree,

while a larger animal gave a demonstration of how to cross a dry ditch.

Back at home I watched the rugby quarter final match between New Zealand and Ireland, while Jackie planted more pansies and snakehead fritillaries and cleared more beds.

She photographed fuchsias Army Nurse and Display, heuchera leaves, phlox, and a  Japanese anemone.

Nugget was, of course, in attendance,

and wishes it known that he does feature in this garden image, perched above the central hanging basket. We considered that this was too difficult an example for the “Where’s Nugget?” game,

and made him settle for this “Where’s Nugget?” (38).

This evening we dined on Jackie’s wholesome cottage pie, the mash topped with fried potatoes; piquant cauliflower cheese; and crunchy broccoli and carrots with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank Parra Alta Malbec 2018.

 

More Than She Could Chew

Aaron works in all weathers. This morning, however warm enough, was even too wet for him. He visited anyway and we enjoyed a pleasant conversation over tea, coffee, and biscuits.

Afterwards I watched England’s World Cup Rugby match against Tonga.

Although this afternoon the skies remained overcast, the steady rain let up; Jackie worked on cuttings in the greenhouse; and I tried to photograph

Nugget without his getting too much under my feet as he darted back and forth after prey.

“Where’s Nugget?” (28)

Rosa Glauca hips and pelargoniums are just two examples of wearers of glistening pearls;

Virginia creeper perspired precipitation,

which weighed down one solitary bedraggled wasp’s antennae.

We have never before had so many nuts dropping from our copper beech. They have to be swept up daily, the husks making good mulch.

Later, with the sun made fairly regular appearances, we drove out into the forest.

One flock of sheep occupied the green at Bramshaw

while another streamed out onto a side lane.

A lone pony was carrying out lawn mowing duties at Nomansland.

Pigs, such as these at Landford, sought out mast;

we wondered what this one at Fritham had caught. soon we realised that

she had trapped a rat

and that she had bitten off more than she could chew. Jackie exclaimed that this sight had permanently put her off pannage pork.

We took the lane leading from Fritham down to Eyeworth Pond where

small birds flitted to and from the trees and the peanuts birders had left on the posts.

An inquisitive cow raised its head in the woodland,

and ponies enhanced the moorland landscape.

This evening we dined on fish pie and a medley of carrots, cauliflower, greens, and runner beans, all perfectly cooked al dente. We both drank Albarino 2017.

“The Smell Of Autumn”

Today was pleasantly temperate. We took an early drive into the forest where the wider roads are often crossed by hoofed animals who make the own tracks into the woodland.

We stopped at the junction between Crow Hill and Charles’s Lane for me to photograph examples.

The track forks with one tine running alongside Charles’s Lane

and the other crossing it to

continue beside Crow Hill.

Serendipitously, as I was making this record, a young equestrienne left the hill, crossed the lane,

and continued on down the slope. The horseshoe in this picture will be leaving its own print in the dusty soil;

the cloven , heart-shaped, depression in this will have been left by one of the string of cattle who are the real sappers of this terrain.

A couple of keen, fit, cyclists who stopped at this junction struggled to find a cycle track with the aid of their modern device. I offered them an example of old technology in the the form of an Ordnance Survey map. The woman said she preferred old technology, perused and returned it once they had established that they would probably need to continue on the road for a while. The gentleman recently cycled from Land’s End to John O’ Groats with a companion who had received two knee replacements three years ago. I suppose this should have been somewhat encouraging.

The first of these samples of verge detritus was photographed on the edge of Crow Hill, the second at Ibsley,

perhaps stamped on by an angry cow.

Outside Burley a group gathered beside a pony being fed by a young girl. At one point the animal turned away from the hand that the young lady extended, but later thought better of it.

“The smell of autumn”, fondly uttered Jackie as the scent of oak smoke from burning branches drifted into our nostrils.

We followed a splendid veteran car through Ibsley. The driver indicated that we should pass him. We waited on ahead so I could photograph him from the front. He turned off into a side road. Perhaps there cannot be too many happy accidents in one day.

We enjoyed a late breakfast at Hockey’s Farm shop in South Gorley.

A pair of young donkeys, showing signs of moulting, stopped for a snack in the middle of the road outside.

This afternoon Ronan of Tom Sutton Heating visited to check on our central heating problem. He diagnosed a drop in pressure resulting from a hidden leak in the system. He applied two cans of stuff designed to seek out and seal it.

This afternoon, Jackie gave the lavender in the Rose Garden a good haircut. She was not alone. “Where’s Nugget?” (10)

This evening we dined on Jackie’s succulent beef in red wine; creamy mashed potato; crunchy carrots and cauliflower; and tender runner beans I picked earlier. The Culinary Queen drank Blue Moon and I drank Tesco’s finest Western Cape Malbec 2017.

Aquatic Surface Cover

The morning rain was forecast to last all day. In fact, this afternoon blue sky and sunshine relieved the rolling clouds and we went for a short forest drive.

We left Lymington via the long, winding, undulating, and varied Mount Pleasant Lane which offers views of Sway Tower beyond fields alongside.

Kings Hyde is a turning off it.

A small group of ponies on the moors bordering Forest Road was quite suddenly enlarged by a purposeful string we watched dice with death from the other side of the road and further up the hill. We observed them galloping down a slope and hoped that speeding traffic would be aware that they were intent on dashing out to join the others. The first four or five made it through the traffic from both directions. They were then followed by the inevitable straggler who took more of an amble. All remained unscathed and still strode out past their more sedate cousins.

We have noticed on almost all the forest pools carpets of small white flowers offering considerable surface cover. More were in evidence in this area. I can’t be sure what they are called.

Cattle shared grazing further along the road

with more ponies,

among whom another foal kept close to its mother.

This evening we dined on succulent roast beef; crisp Yorkshire pudding; roast potatoes and parsnips; broccoli, carrots and cabbage. Jackie drank Hoegaarden while I drank Marcelo Bocardo Malbec 2018 brought by Elizabeth on Sunday.