Gore Tex

The promised rain arrived today. Aaron and Robin came to finish the rose garden paving, but the weather defeated them.

Hay bales

I took a brief amble down to Roger’s field, where he has baled up his hay. This gloomy day demonstrates the value of sunlight in photography.

Raindrops on pigeon feather

There are always a few pigeon quills, fashioned in Gore Tex, scattered on the verges of Downton Lane. According to the maker’s advertising, ‘GoreTex is a waterproof, breathable fabric membrane and registered trademark of W. L. Gore and Associates. Invented in 1969, GoreTex is able to repel liquid water while allowing water vapour to pass through, and is designed to be a lightweight, waterproof fabric for all-weather use.’

In my running days I was most grateful to Mr Gore, for this clothing afforded my sweat an egress, yet kept out the rain; although it didn’t prove to be a good idea to put his product through the washing machine.

This afternoon, on TV, I watched the clash of the titans that was the Wimbledon men’s final. The first two sets occupied two hours, each going to tie breaks, and one to each player. Just after the start of the third, our rain reached SW19, and a short interval ensued, during which I wandered out into the garden, where plants, such as

Day lily

day lilies

Begonia

and begonias welcomed water slipping down their throats;

Poppy

and every poppy kept its head down.

That was the enforced intermission that heralded a change in the momentum of the match. Djokovic ran away with the next two sets to beat Federer 3-1.

Jackie has been unwell today, so we were unable to attend Helen and Bill’s family party. Becky and Ian popped in afterwards, bringing birthday presents for each of us from themselves, from the party hosts, and from Shelley and Ron.

After this my catering task was quite simple really. All I had to do was defrost and heat up Jackie’s chicken jalfrezi, egg fried rice, and a naan, with my share of which I finished the cabernet sauvignon.

 

No Peeking

Chris and Frances still being at The Firs this morning, we dropped in for a visit, just as they and Elizabeth were leaving the house for a visit to Chesapeake Mill. They all did an about turn, phoned Jacqueline who was at Mum’s, and very soon a Firs gathering was arranged.  Jackie saw this as an opportunity.  Seated on her garden bench, dangling legs working backwards and forwards as if getting a swing going, grin on her face, and excited tone in her voice, ‘can I go shopping?’, she cried, ‘can I?  Can I?’

Off she went on one of her favourite activities.  It was only fair that it turned out like this, because on the way to Elizabeth’s we had been to Sainsbury’s to obtain cash from the machine and to put bottles in the bank.  Isn’t it strange how things have changed from the days when a bank was a bank and a shop was a shop?  It had required some willpower for my lady to resist entering the aisles on that occasion.

While she was doing this I wandered around the garden without any need to be working on it.  Naturally the forthcoming Open Studio was one of the topics of conversation.  Elizabeth has taken a number of very imaginative photographs juxtaposing flowers and parts of instruments.  Day lilySome of the best of these feature day lilies and the body of a guitar.  Unfortunately, when taking these, she had inadvertently turned the date stamp facility on, which meant the dates appeared in a crucial corner of the pictures.  Those who didn’t realise that, surprisingly, it is not yet possible to work absolute miracles with software suggested she should edit out the figures that sit across the grain of the guitar wood.  Even if she were that skilled it would take far more time than she has available.  Yesterday there were no lilies left, so she thought she could not repeat the exercise.  Today there were a number of blooms flourishing, so she will now be able to.

Peacock butterfly on buddleia

In the scented bed that I created last year, a peacock butterfly demonstrated just why the buddleia is know as the butterfly bush.

Salad meal (Mum)

Jackie returned laden, and we all sat down around the kitchen table and watched her, Elizabeth, and Danni fill it with goodies.  Then we tucked into a vast array of food.  A bottle of Roc des Chevaliers reserve bordeaux 2011 was also shared.

Unsurprisingly, Danni was rather tired.  Last night’s performance of ‘Fame’, the second of the evening, was the last of the run, and a certain amount of celebration took place afterwards. Danni She attempted to settle herself on her sun lounger in the garden, but received quite a number of, no doubt congratulatory, phone calls.

Early this evening we went on a house window-shopping drive, taking in properties in Ringwood, Hightown, and Matchams.  The last of these was by no means the least. North Lodge It is a beautiful lodge house in an idyllic setting, somewhat isolated, yet exposed to significant traffic noise.  A gravelled path alongside it leads to an extremely high solidly gated fence, sporting a board announcing the BDOC.  Wondering what the Bournemouth & District Outdoor Club might be, we looked it up after supper.  It is a naturist organisation which has ensured there could be no peeking unless you happened to be about ten feet tall; have x-ray eyes; or invest in a pair of stilts.  North Lodge is probably beyond our means.

I hadn’t expected to eat again after that lunch.  However, our trip made us peckish and Jackie knocked up fried eggs, bacon and mushrooms, and baked beans.  That answered our stomach’s call.