Ramblings
A brief walk around the garden today featured
a variety of pink and red camellias, a daffodil, several hellebores and Daphne Odoratas.
This evening we all dined on KFC bargain buckets, sides, and fries, with which I drank Héritages Châteauneuf-du- Pape 2021.
Norman’s Heating men installed our new oil tank today, left it half full with clean fuel, and attempted to fire up the boiler which they found needed a new fuel pump.
I left a message for Elaine at Tom Sutton Heating asking her to ask Stuart to bring a new pump when he comes to service our system in a week’s time.
In the dying light of a dull day I photographed clematis Cirrhosa, snowdrops, camellia buds, verbena, and Daphne Odorata.
We are somewhat confined to barracks at the moment because an unpleasant acrid smell has indicated that the Modus brakes are binding and can’t be fixed until 1st March.
In keeping with the nature of the rest of this post, I published https://derrickjknight.com/2023/02/20/droll-tales-8/
This evening we all dined on oven fish, chips, and onion rings; pickled onions and cornichons; and mushy peas, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Cabernet Zinfandel.
Apparently yesterday’s weather was simply a precursor of Storm Dudley, due today. As the wind began to pick up this morning, we took a walk round the garden.
I had begun with four views from overhead, the last two of which featured camellias,
now quite abundant, and
beginning to drop blooms to soften the gravel paths.
Both bergenia and snowdrops are becoming widespread.
Pale blue irises reticulata; golden daffodils including têtes-à-têtes; white osteospermum; sprawling blue vinca; pale yellow primroses; and rich red cyclamen add their splashes of colour.
The strong sweet scents of Daphnes Odorata and Jacqueline Postill pervade the air.
The Head Gardener was on hand helping hanging hellebores hold heads high.
Dudley is tipped to be less fierce than Storm Eunice, due to arrive in UK on Friday, bringing us gusts of 85 mph.
This evening we dined on baked gammon; boiled potatoes; crunchy carrots; tender runner beans; and a mélange of fresh vegetables in a piquant cheese sauce, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Merlot.
Bluebell is the young lady I photographed yesterday between her partner, Aaron, and the Shetland pony he was photographing.
She photographed me photographing them from beside my trusty steed, and has e-mailed me a copy of it, for which I am very grateful.
This morning I made a further five illustrations into ‘The Old Curiosity Shop’. Regular readers will know that these are by the inimitable Charles Keeping.
‘Messrs Codlin and Short’ were extremely uncomfortable in their unaccustomed environment. Keeping has depicted this just as Dickens described it, even to the extent of their perching on the edges of their seats.
In the theatre ‘Everything was delightful, splendid, and surprising’. The artist has captured the whole gamut of audience reactions.
‘ ‘Stay, Satan, stay !’ roared the preacher again’. Charles Keeping leaves us in no doubt as to the kind of cleric he was.
‘The boat was towed by a couple of horses who were resting on the path’ of a most evocative waterside scene presented as a double page spread.
‘Tall chimneys poured out their plague of smoke and made foul the melancholy air’ subtly depicted in the wavy lines across the background.
This afternoon I gathered
a few garden views, each of which is identified in the gallery which can be accessed by clicking on any image.
This evening we dined on boned chicken thighs marinaded in mango and lime sauce; boiled new potatoes; and tender green beans, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Coonawarra Cabernet Sauvignon.
This morning I reduced the codeine element of my pain relief and toured the garden with my camera.
I was walking better as I wandered around making these images.
Much of the rest of the morning was occupied with mutually supportive family telephone conversations.
This afternoon we took a drive into the forest.
A chestnut pony cropping the verge at North Gorley had clearly been indulging in a mud bath.
Not far away, we passed a distant field of young stags,
on one side of which perched a watching raptor. I am relying on John Knifton to identify this bird. (See Quercus’s comment below – a buzzard)
I can identify the pair of mallards rooting on the soggy terrain beside grazing ponies.
This evening we dined on Mr Pink’s cod, chips, and pea fritter with Garner’s pickled onions.
Did you know that when someone else washes your feet they tickle mercilessly? Well, they do, and this is not funny when you are trying not to jerk your knees.
This afternoon whilst I watched the recorded highlights of the spellbinding Women’s Australian Open Final between Naomi Osaka and Petra Kvitova, Jackie toured the garden with her camera.
She brought me back a pictorial record of the garden stirring. As usual, titles of the pictures are given in the gallery.
This evening we dined on a rack of pork spare ribs; plentiful, well dressed, salad; and tasty new potatoes.
CLICK ON ANY IMAGE IN THE CLUSTER TO ACCESS THE GALLERY, INDIVIDUAL EXAMPLES OF WHICH CAN BE VIEWED FULL SIZE BY SCROLLING DOWN AND CHECKING THE BOXES AT BOTTOM RIGHT. THE BUTTERFLY CAN BE ENLARGED BY CLICKING ON ITS SEPARATE PICTURE
Wandering down the garden paths today
provided very few corners without snowdrops. The Daphne odorata and camellias are blooming and budding. little blue irises, have and yellow crocuses are out. The white alliums easily confused with snowdrops are beginning to grace the beds. Pulmonaria, primulas, and pansies offer a little alliteration.
As so often at this time of year, a tattered Red Admiral basking on a bergenia revels in surviving the winter.
This evening we dined at Lal Quilla. The food, service, and atmosphere were as excellent as always. My main meal was davedush; Jackie’s was murgh noorijenani. We shared special fried rice, an egg paratha, and onion bahji, and both drank Kingfisher.
CLICK ON ANY IMAGE IN A CLUSTER TO ACCESS ITS ENLARGED GALLERY
A wander round the garden this morning yielded
spears of crocosmia, tulips, and daffodils piercing the soil;
crocuses opened further;
and varieties of primula.
Daphne Odorata remains wary of the possibility of a cold spell.
The winter flowering clematis Cirrhosa now cascades down the gazebo,
while, in the Rose Garden, Winchester Cathedral has bloomed for several months; Mum in a Million and Festive Jewel are in bud;
and the sun shines on “Spring”
This afternoon Jackie drove me to Lymington Hospital and back, for my eye appointment. I received efficient treatment, the nurse being rather more friendly than the consultant, but it is not his bedside manner that I suppose one looks to. After the nurse’s checks, she administered drops intended to dilate my eyes. They were effective, and, according to Jackie, gave me a sexy air. On hearing this, the gentleman sitting next to me asked her to look at his.
The consultant advised me that the laser treatment to my left eye was, as I thought, required. Apparently another cataract is forming in the right eye. I was asked if I wanted it done. No advice was given. I declined. I now await a date for the operation to the left eye.
Further administrative confusion occurred, in that a handwritten notice on the wall advised that, as stated in the appointment letter, we may have further checks carried out after the examination in order to save repeated visits. These could take three hours. Neither my nor anyone else’s letter carried such information. However this didn’t happen.
Waiting for the dilation to take effect gave me sufficient time to finish ‘The Locked Room’, being the third short novel in Paul Auster’s New York Trilogy. In the penultimate chapter the author suggests that all three of these works are the same story. He also uses the word ‘absurd’ on a number of occasions. It is. We are lulled, in this final episode, into thinking we might be reading something that makes sense. The writing flows with excellent descriptions and presents a plausible situation involving apparently real people and their relationships. A childhood friendship, for example, is beautifully told. There is, as usual, no ultimate clarity as nonsense finally prevails. Not that I could follow, anyway.
Tom Burns’s illustrations were, however, a delight, true to the text to the end.
For our dinner The Culinary Queen produced succulent pigs in blankets; sublime sage and onion stuffed roast chicken; firm Yorkshire pudding; creamy mashed potato; toothsome manges touts; and tender runner beans. Good gravy, too. With this, I drank Wolf’s Leap merlot 2016.
CLICK ON ANY IMAGE IN A GROUP TO ACCESS ITS ENLARGED GALLERY
This morning we wandered around the garden investigating signs of Spring regrowth. We have snowdrops, hellebores and crocuses coming into bloom.
The still small daphne odorata is keeping its powder dry until the temperature is warm enough for its burgeoning buds to burst open.
From these signs of burgeoning life we visited the Woodland Burial Ground at Walkford so that, on what would have been her mother’s birthday, she could add to the planting around her burial plot. Pleased to see her earlier snowdrops coming through, she added more and a further primula.
The idea of this scheme is that human remains be allowed to rest in communion with natural woodland. There are no gravestones. Some bodies are buried; others’ ashes are interred. Each has a little marker. The soil around the plots settles naturally back into the earth. Only native woodland flowers are permitted to be planted on the sites, although it is clear that many people do stretch a point.
Wreaths, such as that which we set in place in December, must be removed by the end of this month. Jackie took it away today.
Two gardeners were busy tidying up after yesterday’s gales. In speaking to one, I observed that there was much to do after the storm. He agreed, adding that what was worst was the rain, bringing a great deal of mud and heavy soil that was difficult to work, especially in the digging of graves. I described his workplace as a haven of peace.
A diversion on our return home took us past Shelly and Ron’s home. Naturally we called for a pleasant chat, coffee, and, in my case, a slice of delicious Christmas cake.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s savoury rice served with Thai style prawn fishcakes, peas, and green beans.
CLICK ON ANY IMAGE IN THE CLUSTER TO ACCESS ENLARGED GALLERY
Here is another look at our existing kitchen.
The section alongside the hobs is effectively the Culinary Queen’s current work surface. As shown in ‘Before The Makeover 1’ the oven, microwave, and fan occupy the other side of the small area at the back. The shelves to the right of the picture occupy a former fireplace. So encrusted with caked on grime were these hobs that, when we moved in, we did not know they were induction. Neither did we know how to use them, nor that we would need new saucepans.
This is how lunch is prepared on this surface.
When the hobs are in use, as for cooking tonight’s jalfrezi, life becomes somewhat more complicated, chopping room being rather limited.
One of Aaron’s tasks this morning had been to prune some of the roses, like the prolific For Your Eyes Only.
This afternoon I took a walk among the flora. The winter flowering cherry, the bergenia, the pansies, the cyclamens, the iris, and the vincas have been in evidence for a while. The little yellow bidens have continued to self seed since they first occupied the garden last Spring. The camellias are covered in buds, their first blooms having appeared in recent days. Jackie is particularly excited about the prospect of the Daphne odorata’s scents bursting from their expanding cases. One solitary Winchester Cathedral bloom stands tall in the Rose Garden.
With the aforementioned chicken jalfrezi, Jackie served her special savoury rice and Tesco’s pakoras and onion bahjis. As can be seen, she drank Hoegaarden. I drank more of the Malbec.