fishermen – derrickjknight

Down To The Lakes At Iris Time

After an uneventful forest drive when no-one was about,

Jackie and I brunched at the Lakeview Café beside Orchard Lakes.

Before we ate, I walked around the pair of manmade lakes circled by banks of buttercups, daisies, and dandelions, bordered by hedges hosting may blossom; with scattered lifebelts placed in case someone fell in, the water was the fixed focus of attention of carefully socially distanced silently reflecting elderly gentlemen gazing into the depths in hopes of a tug at their periodically adjusted line or a tell-tale surface ripple signalling a flailing finny catch.

It may be lilac time at Kew, but here it is the time for yellow flag irises.

With the rest of the family all out for the day, and having seen our brunch, no-one will be surprised that Jackie and I enjoyed small amounts of left-overs this evening – mine our takeaway curry, and Jackie oven fish and chips – with which she drank more of the Zesty and I drank Moerbei Testarosso Sangiovese 2020

Communal Bath

Quite early this morning we drove to Mudeford to look at the sea. The sun briefly outlined the horizon; the waves were very choppy and

determined to bubble over the wall onto the promenade. I needed to be unaccustomedly quick on my feet to keep them dry, whereas

a reflecting fisherman just paddled patiently.

As I watched the water dripping from a walker’s uplifted foot I wondered whether his dog really wanted a walk as it hopefully hugged the bollards yet would probably pick up wetter paws when circumventing each vacant bench ahead.

Sailboarding was under way –

more so in the more sheltered harbour away from the open sea. Some of these gentlemen, nevertheless couldn’t keep out of the water for long.

One came a cropper behind a capsized sailboat against which the thud of the waves syncopated with the

tinkling of the rigging of the parked sailboats

and drowned the gentler lapping of the soft sea foam frothing over the coastal pebbles.

From her car Jackie focussed on a more distant fisherman who was himself beset by spray battering rocks.

Nearer at hand she was so engrossed with a clutch of iridescent-flecked starlings that she might have missed the one perched upon her wing mirror had it not begun to shout at her.

Gulls soon moved in, one pointing out the necessity to pay for parking, and another

attempting to join in the starlings’ communal bath.

Finally she snapped her fisherman packing up.

The evening we dined on “definitely the last serving” of Jackie’s still succulent beef and mushroom pie, boiled potatoes, carrots. cauliflower and runner beans, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank The Second Fleet Lime Stone Coast Shiraz 2019.

Clocks And Whelks

This afternoon Jackie drove us to Lymington, where our two clocks were now ready.

We parked in Gosport Street and walked down Quay Hill to Dials. The iron barriers on the kerbside ensure that careless photographers cannot step back into the road for wider close-ups.

Loose Ends, in the left foreground of this photograph, stands next to New Forest Ice Cream Parlour. The ice cream is sold all around the forest.

Next in line is Jack Rabbits Barber & Shop. Much of the town centre dates from Georgian and Victorian times, the buildings of which have been retained.

The quaintly cobbled Quay Hill runs steeply down to the left of this street. Dials is situated at the bottom right hand corner.

Fascinating as are the shops, some of the buildings, like these, are private houses.

At the bottom of the hill, next to Dials, is The Old Alarm, where, obscured by the gentleman’s head, is a notice advertising a flat in the building. From the early 19th century, Lymington had a thriving shipbuilding industry, particularly associated with Thomas Inman, builder of the schooner Alarm, which famously raced the American yacht America in 1851.

This was the first time Jackie had accompanied me to the clock shop. She liked the inside as much as I did, and I had a sneaky plan.

I knew she would fall in love with the grandfather clocks. I left her to do just that while I settled up for Mum’s carriage clock, and Martin returned the wall clock in which he had secured the face which had caused the problem, and for which he made no charge.

Then I bought her favourite, the one with the moon’s phases charted. This marvel was made in Jersey in 1822. It will be delivered and set up in two days time. That’s birthday and Christmas sorted.

After this, Jackie carried the repaired clocks back up the hill to the car whilst I wandered down to the quay, where

I once again met the young fisherman in yellow trousers who I had photographed at Mudeford Quay. This time, he and his colleagues were unloading bags of whelks.

I then took advantage of the sale at Blades and bought myself a pair of trousers. They were navy blue, not yellow.

This evening we enjoyed second helpings of Hordle Chinese Take Away’s meal, with which we both drank Cimarosa sauvignon blanc 2014.

The Catch

Giles had left his cap at our house on his last visit. This morning we drove round to return it. As he appeared to be out, after knocking, I pushed the headgear through the letter box and prepared to leave. A giant snail on the window sill caught my attention and I paused to photograph it. Giles then appeared. He had been chopping logs down the garden.

Our friend is very creative with driftwood and pine cones.

We also had a birthday card to post. The Victorian pillar box nearby was pretty full, and the slot wasn’t really large enough for our item, so we travelled to the post office to leave it in their box.

An about turn took us on to Purewell, near Christchurch where we bought a present at Motorists’ Discount Supplies. We had some difficulty finding this establishment at 5a Sanpit. We could have been spared this, had we parked at Mudeford Quay before our search. This is because, printed on the back of our parking receipt, was a map advertising and locating the outlet.

In the event, we didn’t go to Mudeford until after buying a freezer at Curry’s. This was required because the Cook and Caterer in Chief had realised that we couldn’t stock up for all the Christmas guests we are expecting without something larger than our current equipment.

The weather is still very mild, and although it was high tide the water was calm enough to caress the sea wall with a gentle susurration. Jackie repaired to the cafe whilst I wandered in search of photographic material.

A vociferous crow cawed atop the crab baskets, then,

the air was filled with flocks apparently auditioning for a remake of Alfred Hitchcock’s classic ‘The Birds’. They were squabbling gulls wheeling, screeching, and treading air just beyond the quayside.

I walked round the rows of heaped baskets to see that a fishing boat had come in.

Two fishermen were sorting their catch, boxing up what they wished to keep, and discarding the rest.

Since the fishers were definitely both men, I wondered whether they had borrowed the boat from Chloe and Christie out of Poole.

Some of the hopeful scavengers made their presence known from the concrete kerb. The noisy fellow was really rather large;

others, still airborne, scrambled over each other in their eagerness to catch scaly pickings.

It didn’t take me long to take three dozen pictures, then join Jackie in the Haven Cafe where we lunched on mixed seafood platter, chips, peas, and salad for me, and a jacket potato heaped with cheese and coleslaw for Jackie.

Despite our capacious cafe repast, we managed to dine on a little of Jackie’s splendid pork paprika and special fried rice, followed by chocolate eclairs, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I imbibed more of the malbec, still drinkable after the best part of a week.

That, of course, was after we had installed the new freezer.