On 16th March 2016, we transported bags of garden refuge to Efford Recycling Centre in the Modus and returned with this wickerwork chair purchased from the Reuse Shop.
This, of course had to go straight onto the decking, where it stayed for a couple of years until, now unsafe for seating, it became a
plant stand at the corner of the West Bed.
Sadly, even that is now beyond its strength, so it has been broken up and formed part of a further load of spent compost bags and other broken bits of wood and metal which we took back to where it came from this morning – in the Hyundai which has now replaced the Modus.
This afternoon I continued with my draft of ‘The Berlin Diaries’.
The choice between Lal Quilla and Rokali’s as our favourite Indian restaurant is very even, but during the holiday season determined by parking, because it is impossible then to find a spot near Lal Quilla. We aimed to chance it today, but after circling the town twice, we returned to Rokali’s where we enjoyed their usual friendly service and excellent food. Jackie chose Paneer Shashlik and I enjoyed duck Jalfrezi. We shared special rice. She drank Diet Coke and I drank Kingfisher.
On this very warm and sunny morning Jackie and I packed 23 more spent compost bags of green waste into our uncomplaining little i10 Hyundai and transported them to Efford Recycling Centre, formerly the Council Dump.
Later, in the afternoon, we visited Ferndene Farm Shop to purchase various provisions and
three more bags of compost.
I have recently begun reading “The Berlin Diaries of Marie Vassiltchikov”and will be drafting the review, on which I made a start today, as I go along.
This evening we dined on Ferndene’s meaty pork and chives sausages; boiled potatoes; particularly flavoursome mushrooms and Brussels sprouts; firm carrots and cauliflower.
This morning I received a telephone response from Abby of Southampton General Hospital PALS (Patient Advice and Liaison Service) concerning the manner of my discharge from hospital on 24th August (https://derrickjknight.com/2024/08/25/four-days/). I made it clear that I wanted to prevent this happening again to anyone else. She will discuss this with the relevant department and report back to me. I am under no illusions that the system will change other than perhaps ensuring that the discharge doesn’t happen on such a day when necessary help is not available.
We then transported another 13 spent compost bags of green refuse to Efford Recycling Centre and came home with two plant stands purchased from the Reuse Shop.
After lunch I finished reading the last story in my Folio Society collection from the work of Maria de Zayas.
Beginning with a dramatic description of a tempest and cleverly led escape to security by an exceptional male character in that he is honest, caring, and seeking answers to
the scene pictured in this illustration by Eric Fraser, it is in fact the treachery of women leading to the typical male cruelty. A woman’s lies result in the honour murder of an innocent man and the disparity of the two women in the picture.
The device for recounting the story is the falsely dishonoured man explaining it to the honourable protagonist and standing by his extreme cruelty as justified revenge.
Maria de Zayas closes with: “It is my opinion, incidentally, that some women suffer innocently. They are not all guilty, as is commonly supposed, and the ladies present might consider this: if the innocent….must pay for imaginary crimes, then what ought not to be the punishment of those who pursue their vicious follies in all reality. It is worth noting that, at the present day, men have such an adverse opinion of us that even if we endure innocent suffering they still decline to do anything about it.” In fairness, she has granted a happy ending to the good man of this tale.
Later, I watched the next episode of Freddie Flintoff’s Field of Dreams.
This evening we dined on salt and pepper, and tempura prawn preparations with Jackie’s colourful savoury rice.
On this morning of steady rain we splashed and sprayed our way along Christchurch Road transporting 10 spent compost bags of garden refuse to Efford Recycling Centre. Naturally we wore a few raindrops, but at least this went well.
Will of Tom Sutton Heating visited to fix our radiators problems. We have four we just haven’t been able to bleed since Christmas and two that don’t work. Will bled the four successfully, but established that the other two are on the wrong circuit which he will discuss with Ronan. At least the weather is comparatively mild.
I then tried to print some pictures for the first time since James Peacock had checked over the printer a week or so ago. This now seems to be operating on WiFi and I don’t understand how to enter the right numbers into a thingy I don’t know. Eventually I gave up and had a look at my e-mails. James had left me one asking if everything is working now. I couldn’t ring him back because the office was now closed, so I left him a voicemail for tomorrow.
Becky, having examined all I had done, then asked whether I had unplugged and replugged the router, which, of course I hadn’t. She did. Everything worked and I produced
this print with the correct colours.
Then, the best part of the day, we all dined on Jackie’s superb roast lamb, boiled potatoes, carrots, cauliflower, mange touts, and gravy with which Ian drank Hoegaarden, the Culinary Queen and Becky drank Cape Kyala Chenin Blanc 2023, and I drank Carménère Reserva Privada 2022.
Thus an eminently forgettable day became memorable.
Every morning Ellie and Grannie read the 1st Birthday Card from Gram Gram and Grandad.
As will be apparent, our great granddaughter follows the handwriting as she does the print in a book being read to her. Although the card has been regularly bent and chewed this is the first time the two halves have been separated, requiring a Sellotape repair.
On this sun-bright yet cooler day Jackie and I transported ten more spent compost bags of green refuse to the Efford Recycling Centre,
coming away with four drinking vessels, including three of cut glass bought from the reuse shop.
Afterwards we received our Flu and Covid vaccinations at Ashley Pharmacy.
This evening we all enjoyed second sittings of Jackie’s curry meals of yesterday, with which she drank Dino Italian blush 2022 and I finished the Shiraz.
Early this morning I watched recordings of the Women’s Rugby World Cup semi-final matches between Canada and England, and between New Zealand and France – both much closer than heretofore in the competition, setting up a promise of an excellent final next week.
One of the consequences of moving from more than one home over the last decade and more, has been a plethora of pictures we have no room for in our current abode with its limited wall space, resulting in far too many stacked up in the library because we hadn’t the heart to abandon them. Today we bit the bullet and transported several boxes of them to Efford Recycling Centre’s Shop.
Perhaps reflecting our sadness at these losses, rain sheeted down, bouncing off the windscreen and the surface of rapidly filling pools as we queued for access to the facility. Having brought her new camera, Jackie had time to photograph the scene and e-mail her image to me.
The rest of the day was spent
watching more precipitation coursing down our windows.
This evening we dined at The Red Lion with Elizabeth, Jacqueline, and Danni. In pleasant company we enjoyed excellent food with friendly and efficient service. My main meal consisted of a plentiful well cooked mixed grill. Most of us enjoyed generous portions of sticky toffee pudding with cream or ice cream, and a very good bottle of Rioja was shared.
This morning Jackie worked on clearing the Lawn Bed in readiness for renewed planting. I, in the meantime, jammed as many bags of recyclable garden refuse into the Modus before we drove them to the Efford recycling centre. This is the first time we have visited since before Covid, but Jackie was keen to maintain traditional lore which states that one never visits the facility without making a purchase from the newly named Reuse Shop, from which you can only buy what someone has thrown away with a bank card. Moreover we can only discard our rubbish by appointment which must be made on line. Such is upmarket progress.
She chose a matching pair of what will now be garden plant stands.
I rang the Verderers office later, when, by coincidence, Robert, the Agister was present. He spoke to me at some length, explaining that he knew the foal I had reported a couple of days ago, which was much happier than it had been at first. The large areas around his rump were the result of scouring – a form of diarrhoea brought on by the richness of the mother’s milk. This meant that the liquid excreta adhered to the hair and stripped it off. It is growing back. He wasn’t sure about the lesser blemishes but would see the animal regularly, and wasn’t concerned.
After lunch Jackie continued her weeding and planting while I gathered up compostable material which I transported to the bins, then carried out more dead-heading and weeding, and garnered
a few more photographs, each of which bears a title in the gallery.
This evening we dined on succulent pork chops and sausages; boiled new potatoes; crunchy carrots, cauliflower, and firm broccoli, with meaty gravy. Jackie drank Hoegaarden; Flo, mixed fruit juice cordial; and I, Chianti Rufino 2018.
Today the unrelenting gloom developed as the day progressed. The leaden sky became more so, although the temperature was reasonably warm when, this morning
I jammed more than 20 of our garden refuse bags into the Modus, leaving about 10 in our pile.
After lunch, Jackie having secured a half hour slot at the Efford dump, off we drove joyfully to abandon our rubbish, only to be denied entrance because the gatekeeper did not have us on his list. The man was as helpful as he could be, but despite my best negotiation skills, including pleading age and infirmity, all he was able to do was give us a direct telephone number which was perhaps more helpful than the on-line process previously used.
We returned home, had a cry, and I made the call. I did discover what had gone wrong but cannot be bothered to dwell on it. We have to start the process all over once more tomorrow.
The back drive is quite some length, so we unloaded the bags quite near the gate to make them more accessible to the car when we needed to fill it up again.
While I was there I produced a few photographs of the drive before taking a short trip into the now gloomier forest.
For the seven years we have lived here, and no doubt far longer, the scaffolding protecting passing vehicles from the possible collapse of this dilapidated building on a bend along Silver street has been gathering a rich rust patina. It seemed to fit our mood to stop and photograph it. Then we went home.
This evening we dined on spicy pepperoni pizza and plentiful fresh salad with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Fleurie.
CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE. THOSE IN GROUPS ACCESS GALLERIES THAT CAN BE VIEWED FULL SIZE.
This morning we carried bags of rubble from the fireplace work, neatly stacked by Barry and Owen, to the Efford Recycling Centre. In the car, of course. It is a sign of the times that what we could previously have placed in the dump’s large skip free of charge today cost us £12.50. One more public service commercialised by outsourcing to a private company. It seems that less and less is covered by our Council tax rates.
Afterwards we headed into the forest and investigated Horseshoe Bottom. This idyllic bowl is frequented by dog walkers and basking ponies.
As we prepared to leave the car, a large black dog, complete with owner, bounded up the ridge surrounding the vehicles. As soon as it reached the grass, the animal crouched for a crap. The owner, hands firmly in his jacket pockets, turned his back and set off across the lovely terrain. The dog, now relieved, joined him. It was only as I stepped over the ridge that I realised that there was a row of similar turds requiring negotiation. Clearly numerous eager hounds had sought similar immediate convenience.
In order to spare my readers’ sensitivities, I have not photographed the fresher excreta, but this shot shows a sun bleached deposit and a discarded snack packet.
One particular pair of ponies stayed together, moving to a safe distance at the sight of my camera lens.
A grey,
and a representative of a miniature breed kept their own individual company.
I was some distance from the first couple when they lurched awkwardly to the ground to lie in the sun and scratch their backs.
It was then that I noticed Jackie had left the car and was setting off gingerly down the slope.
She kept her eyes on the crows,
but steadfastly ignored a pony’s request to have its tummy tickled.
I wondered where she was off to.
She had decided to investigate what she thought was a stream at the bottom of the slope. It turned out contain fresh grass and a small pool. She thought the must be a winterbourne, which only fills after wet weather. Some areas are drying out now.
Bright sunshine set the gorse a-glowing.
Towards midday a number of ponies sat down and dozed.
On the outskirts of Burley, a pair of chestnuts bringing up the tail, a string of others queued patiently outside a house from which, they no doubt knew, a householder would soon emerge with lunch.
At Holmsley we diverted to:
An engraved map shows the location of the commemorated institutions.
The sensitively designed memorial contains a number of dedicated benches where visitors can reflect in peace,
and affixed to the railings are individual and group plaques of remembrance. That of Captain Darrell R. Lindsey stands alongside one for other members of the USAAF.
For anyone who does not quite understand today’s title, ‘the pond’ is an affectionate name for the Atlantic Ocean which lies between USA and UK.
It was perhaps appropriate that Jackie noticed a bird of prey circling overhead.
The gorse pictured above is one reminder that Susan Hill’s “yellow season” has arrived. Daffodils decorating the verges such as those along Beckley Common Road is another.
This evening we dined on roast lamb, Yorkshire pudding, tasty gravy, new potatoes, carrots, broccoli, and green beans, followed by apricot lattice flan. I finished the shiraz while Jackie drank sparkling water. Milford on sea still has a greengrocers. The quality of today’s vegetables shows the freshness of the shop’s produce.
CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE THEM. REPEAT IF REQUIRED.
There was much competitive activity from honeybees, particularly partial to poppies
as we loaded two bags of hedge clippings and other green waste into the trusty little Modus for transporting to Efford Recycling Centre.
This was to take some time, much of which was spent in a queue of traffic,
admiring the hedgerows.
On the horizon, through a gap in the trees, can be seen an intriguing land mass.
We had enough time to watch several yachts floating by. This confirmed that the land is that of the Isle of Wight. The yachts were skimming over The Solent.
After this, Jackie drove us to Hatchet Pond and back to see if the swans had hatched their cygnets. They had.
Here are the proud parents with, according to Hans Christian Andersen, their three Ugly Ducklings,
one of which wasn’t quite sure what to do with its legs.
The Pond was so swollen that the birds chewed grass under water.
One of the parents proudly stepped onto the land,
and when they both began hissing I thought that perhaps I had alarmed them into protective mode. Not so. They had seen the couple with the black labrador as they walked behind me.
Black-headed gulls also frequent this pond.
On our return home, I posted the sixth of my seven photographs in the Filling Facebook with Nature project.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s piri-piri and lemon chicken; a melange of leeks, onions, and mushrooms; mashed potatoes; and carrots and green beans. This was followed by sticky toffee pudding and cream. I finished the Bordeaux.
