Tag: donkeys

How To Get Rid Of Dandelions

I began the last push on clearing the two rooms Nick is currently working on together at 4 a.m. this morning. These are the new sitting room and our bedroom upstairs.

Our friendly decorator began prepping before Jackie and I took a mid-morning forest drive.

A framed crocheted Queen welcomes visitors to St. Mark’s Church, Pennington.

We travelled along the very narrow Pauls Lane on our way to Pitmore Lane

alongside which I photographed the landscape with horses.

Further along we encountered a group of donkeys and their foals which

attracted a number of other photographers including this Frenchwoman. I quipped that these donkeys would become very familiar with the camera, and realised that her husband did not understand me. He told me so in English and followed in his own tongue which I didn’t understand. When he explained this to his wife I suddenly tuned into his French accent and replied, haltingly, in his own language. The three of us then spoke about how difficult it is to speak in another language for the first two or three days of a visit. The husband told me that they kept two donkeys at home.

One of the foals appears to have been attempting to emulate the stereotypical female Argentine tango dancer. Tossing its head around, scratching against the stiff grass, first on its feet, then sinking to the ground and rolling its muzzle close to the ground, the little animal failed to grasp the secret of how to get rid of dandelions.

By this afternoon Nick had made considerable progress and will begin applying paint tomorrow.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s excellent chicken korma and various leftovers from last night’s Red Chilli takeaway, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden, Ian drank Cobra, and I finished the Bordeaux.

A Hanging Out Nest

Jackie spent a hot, sunny, cloudless morning continuing her planting while I dead-headed poppies and roses and pulled up a few weeds.

Flo joined us on a trip this afternoon beginning with a visit to Otter Nurseries for more plants, and continuing into the forest.

Foxgloves lined the verges along Warborne Lane where a burrow probably housed the rabbits which kept popping up along the way.

We visited the Hatchet Moor section of Hatchet Pond, where Flo and I both photographed each other photographing donkeys and foals. Individual authorship is, as usual, detailed in the galleries (mine don’t bear my name). This is also true of the next ones, including

cattle and calves;

water lilies, one bearing a damselfly;

mallards, swans and cygnets hanging out on a makeshift temporary nest.

Flo added foxgloves in the landscape;

also an oyster catcher while I pictured a black headed gull.

Finally, at East Boldre I focussed on a fly-tolerant pony with her sleeping offspring.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s savoury rice, with prawn preparations – tempura and hot and spicy – and gyoza, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Malbec.

From High Street To Forest Roads

This morning I received an e-mail containing photographs from my brother-in-law Ron Salinger from his Spanish holiday with Shelly.

These featured a celebration of the victory of the Battle of Albuera, known as the bloodiest battle of the Peninsular War.

Here is a link to the extensive Wikipedia entry on the event: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Albuera

Afterwards, Jackie cut my hair. Should anyone wish to inspect it it is featured in one of the Lymington High Street shop windows to follow.

Just before lunch I posted https://derrickjknight.com/2022/05/20/a-knights-tale-134-kilcullen-would-have-been-too-far-away/

A problem has developed with the communication between Jackie’s camera and its memory card.

I therefore visited Wessex Photographic in Lymington High Street in order to have the problem investigated. The ever helpful Luke established that the fault lay with the card, and sold me another at a mere fraction of the cost of a new camera.

Jackie and Flo then popped into Oakhaven Children’s Shop while

I wandered around with my camera.

After a while they took refreshment in Hazy Days coffee shop;

I continued my meandering until joining them to partake of sparkling water.

We then drove into the forest in search of a foal. Thinking we were to be thwarted we stopped to focus on a group of donkeys invading a garden in East Boldre.

Further along a foal appeared with its mother and a group of other equines.

In these latter two galleries those titles of Flo’s pictures bear her name.

This evening Flo enjoyed second helpings of Jackie’ s beef pie while her grandparents reprised the Culinary Queen’s liver and bacon. Both meals were served with boiled potatoes, crunchy carrots, firm cauliflower, and tender runner beans. Jackie drank Hoegaarden, Flo, water, and I, more of the Douro.

The House In The Wood

This afternoon Jackie, Flo, Elizabeth, and I visited The House in the Wood garden outside Beaulieu, under the National Gardens Scheme. The photographs can speak for themselves, although each one is titled in the gallery.

Beside Hatchet Lane on our return home we encountered our first foals of the season:

both donkeys,

and ponies, one of whom had some difficulty when attempting to suckle.

After the visit Elizabeth dropped off at her home en route and then joined us for dinner, which consisted of Jackie’s succulent sausages in red wine; creamy mashed potatoes; crunchy carrots; and firm broccoli and cauliflower. My wife and sister drank the last of the Picpoul de Pinet; I finished the Fitou; and Flo drank water.

Whose Core?

After a visit to Ferndene Farm shop this morning Jackie drove me into the forest, where, as in Beckley Common Road,

posts protecting verges along lanes are being planted to keep off the eagerly anticipated summer influx of visiting vehicles.

Field horses along this road are already wearing their fly masks protecting eyes and ears from their own less welcome visitors.

I am not sure what crop we can expect to grace this opposite field.

A fairly widespread forest feature is the random apple tree such as these at Thorney Hill,

with its gorse-gold landscapes, and in

Forest Road . We could easily have focussed on many more today. Whenever we do we always speculate on the muncher whose apple core provided the seed for others to enjoy. Was it lobbed from a car?, tossed on a walk?, or chucked from a folding picnic chair?

Forest Road woodland also contains pink-hued hawthorn, otherwise known as may. We are enjoined ‘ne’er [to]cast a clout until May be out’, prompting a time-honoured controversy. A clout is an archaic word for an item of clothing; and cast means shed, as in take off. The proverb refers to putting aside our winter clothing. There is, however, no consensus as to whether the upper case month of May is meant, or the lower case may tree. If the old saw (proverb) refers to May, then ‘be out’ means ‘has ended’; if may, ‘be out’ signifies ‘has bloomed’. This may never be settled. Whichever is correct, today I wore shirt-sleeves, sans undershirt and sans jacket – with neither the English nor the American vest. So, with either interpretation, I have it covered.

Donkeys shedding winter coats cropped the verges on our return road out of Brockenhurst, while ponies kept clear of the tarmac.

This evening we dined on pork spare ribs and Jackie’s savoury rice with which she drank Hoegaarden, Flo drank Kombucha ginger and lemon, and I drank L’Ayrolle Fitou 2019.

A True Tale Of Love In Tonga

Last night I read ‘A True Tale of Love in Tonga’ by Robert Gibbings, and spent some time today scanning

the dust jacket, the front and back boards;

the Foreword;

and the pages, which speak for themselves.

Between bouts of scanning Jackie drove me into the forest, where

I wandered among the gleaming golden gorse around Crockford Clump.

Ponies cropped the verges of St Leonard’s Road, while donkeys

tore at more prickly provisions,

and a pheasant tried camouflage in the long grass of a field.

This evening we dined on Becky’s delicious pork casserole; creamy mashed potato with nutmeg; and firm broccoli, with which Jackie and I each drank more of the Rosé and Rouge respectively.

Time To Let The Cattle Loose

On a largely overcast yet dry day Jackie donated some property to one Charity Shop in Highcliffe before lunch and we both did the same with two small filing cabinets to the Oakhaven Hospice shop in the afternoon.

We then took a drive into the forest.

On the first green at Bramshaw a couple of donkeys shared their pasturage

with a sheep and two lambs.

I photographed Jackie’s attempt to catch me focussing on the most inquisitive of the donkeys which, when I left them for the sheep, stuck its head through Jackie’s window.

Further along the road was claimed by cattle including our old friends Splash and Blackie the Highland Bulls. Jackie produced the close-ups of these two fearsome beasts.

A solitary pony perched precariously on the slope of the verge.

Another bovine group trampling the woodland at Furzley reminded us that this is about the time that cattle who have been kept under shelter during the winter are generally released to roam.

This evening we dined on succulent fillet steaks; chips, roast tomatoes, and garden peas with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Bordeaux.

A Photographer With Two Assistants

This afternoon Jackie took Flo and me for a drive.

We passed walkers among the grass of Saltgrass Lane, along which we

viewed low clouds giving the Isle of Wight the appearance of high mountains fronted by the Hurst Lighthouse and medieval castle; and

figures on the spit continuing along the low tide flats.

Unbeknown to each of us, while Jackie photographed a conversation with an ice cream vendor I focussed on a couple enjoying one of her wares.

The elder Assistant Photographer also photographed a perched black headed gull.

An abundance of wild flowers now carpet the verges of our lanes.

The anonymous decorator of the letter collection box on Pilley Hill has given us an Easter theme.

The last two of these pictures of a pony drinking in Pilley lake were Flo’s work.

Gentle donkeys took care of each other at East Boldre.

Tonight we dined on Jackie’s rich red chicken jalfrezi and equally colourful savoury rice with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Shiraz. Hard boiled eggs were added to the curry for Flo, who did not imbibe. She remembered that once when she was smaller I had made her a boiled egg curry.

A Kerfuffle

On this bright, yet cool, morning Jackie and I took a short drive into the forest.

Celandines, nettles, and other wild flowers lined the verges of Warborne Lane, Portmore, alongside which goats and their climbing kids occupy a field beside horses in a fenced garden.

On Pilley Street a friendly young girl opened the gate by the cattle grid to enable the driver of a horse and carriage to pass through and continue along the road.

The vitreous lake bore reflections and shadows of the limbs and trunks of trees coated with lichen and a dog with its walker on the far side.

Ponies basked and grazed among the gorse and along the verges at East Boldre;

further along the road a dappled grey crossed to the other side seeking second helpings. Nearby a selfish sorrel created a sparky kerfuffle as it butted another pony with whom it was not prepared to share pickings.

A trio of donkeys maintained their occupation of the Norleywood Road junction.

Beside the rowing boat shells beneath the cone-laden pine overlooking Lymington River an oyster catcher sought breakfast.

This evening we dined on slow roasted breast of lamb; crispy roast potatoes and Yorkshire pudding; crunchy carrots, broccoli, and cauliflower, with which Jackie drank Carlsberg, I drank Azinhaga de Ouro Reserva 2019, and Flo drank exotic fruit juices diluted.

Passport Photographs

At midday Jackie drove us to Hockey’s Farm shop for an excellent brunch and to reintroduce Flo to the north of the forest.

Ponies at Ibsley and mossy rooted trees were reflected in the pool that covers waterlogged terrain.

Before eating we introduced our granddaughter to Hockey’s humorous alpacas lining up for their passport photographs and to

their colourful penned chickens.

Afterwards the two women wandered over to the exotic aviary while I waited in the car.

The thatched fox opposite the farm shop has come no nearer to catching the ducks he has in his sights.

Ponies on the road towards Gorley Common ensured our slow progress,

giving us the opportunity to track a small herd of deer from different viewpoints. At least three young males were present, and one pure white one was occasionally glimpsed.

The thatcher of a house in North Gorley celebrated his last year’s refurbishment with champagne while donkeys lolled or scratched further along the road.

This evening we enjoyed dining on alcohol free Red Chilli takeaway fare.