foal – derrickjknight

Road Blocks

Early this sultry late summer morning, Jackie and I transported a few items to the Oakhaven Trust Charity shop and emerged with two Thomas Webb crystal wine glasses. When I quipped that we never came back from the Council dump empty handed I received the riposte: “so you are saying we are like the dump?”. We then bought a bottle of Marsannay Louis Latour Burgundy from M & S with a voucher Joseph and Angela had given me for my birthday.

We continued on a forest drive, where ponies were taking up their shade stations as they are wont to do in such weather. As we drove down Forest Road from Burley towards one such location

we noticed a near miss involving the vehicle that preceded the van above. A bay mare, followed by her foal dashed across from the undergrowth on the left side of the picture forcing the driver of a car in the process of passing the equine obstruction to practice his or her emergency stop skills.

The two ponies disappeared among the gorse bushes. I followed what I took to be their track, wandered around in an unsuccessful search,

scanned the empty moorland, and returned to the verge, where

the dam munched grass, and her foal

took a shady spot, before, not having learned a lesson, deciding to join the others

obstructing the traffic – and of course slowing us somewhat.

While seeking the dashing pair I had spoken with a young man walking down the road, telling him what I had seen. He warned that there was another group similarly spread across the road outside his house. He also said that he thought pannage was needed early because these animals were already eating fallen acorns which are poisonous to them. This year the pigs will be let out to snort up the mast on 19th.

As we passed his house we encountered the next road block.

After lunch I undertook an extensive dead heading session. It looks as if we will have many more roses yet.

Later, I added the pictures of Elizabeth and Ellie to https://derrickjknight.com/2022/09/11/elizabeth-meets-ellie/

This evening the four of us dined on succulent roast chicken; sage and onion stuffing; crisp Yorkshire pudding and fried potatoes; firm carrots, cauliflower, and broccoli; and very tasty gravy. Jackie drank Hoegaarden, I finished the Côtes du Rhône, and Flo and Dillon drank fruit cordial.

Selecting Sheltered Spots

Early this morning Jackie continued the clearance in the Rose Garden. I carted her clippings to the compost bins and carried out more dead-heading before we shopped and the Co-op in Stopples Lane then took a drive into the forest.

Well before mid-day shadows flickering in the woodland alongside Bisterne Close manifested as clusters of fly-infested shelter-seeking ponies twitching tails, scratching with frantic hoof and friction against dappled tree trunk clinging together for comfort. Only the ferns risked the direct sun’s rays.

A pair of cyclists who wheeled along the Close were encountered at several points later, and could be

seen on Forest Road beyond a mare and foal, part of a group

disrupting traffic as they sought their own

spots of shelter beneath the spreading branches spanning the road.

Cattle preferred to shelter in the shrubbery.

Elizabeth visited us this afternoon, bringing goodies for Flo, and stayed for dinner which consisted of a selection of Papa John’s pizzas. My sister and I drank Esprit de Puisseguin Saint-Emilion 2019, and Jackie drank Hoegaarden.

“I Wouldn’t Start From Here”

Early this morning I read in the car while Jackie bought vegetables at Ferndene Farm Shop and birthday presents for Ivy at New Milton. We then drove on to Burley where I settled on a bench to watch the world go by. My sojourn was to be brief.

As I left the car park I noticed that a decaying stump I had last photographed Before Covid had been servicing the ecology of the site.

I walked through The Queen’s Head car park where I attracted a foal which tagged me into the roadway where I had difficulty shifting it.

Its parents slept in charge of the infant as they sought refuge against the pub walls.

A group of cyclists, amused at my unwanted attendant passed another pony on the road.

Others wandered along the High Street of Burley as, lens at the ready, I stationed myself on an unoccupied bench.

Soon, 87 year old Sylvia joined me and asked us – Jackie had joined me by then – whether we knew where the bus went to from here. Resisting one of the jokes about “I wouldn’t start from here”, we learned that she wanted to go to New Milton and had boarded a bus to an unknown destination which turned out to have been here. She had been hoping to arrive at the New Milton Tesco’s from her home at Highcliffe. Given that we lived a mile from there we had no choice but to cut short my people watching and transport her there. Which we did.

I was to become relieved that my photography session had been so brief, because I spent six hours this afternoon carrying out a first cull of the photographs Jackie and I produced between us, when I cut the numbers from 300+ to 207. I barely had the energy then to start on the Burley set.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s wholesome sausages in red wine, boiled potatoes, firm carrots, cauliflower, and broccoli, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I started on a bottle of Patrick Chodot 2019 that Flo, knowing it was a favourite, had given me for my birthday.

What To Do With Flies

For much of the morning and the first half hour of a sweltering afternoon Jackie continued weeding the Brick Path, taking her own

before

and after photographs;

meanwhile I filled several trug-loads of dead-headed roses and weeds pulled up from the beds along the way.

Afterwards I printed another batch of A4 prints of him at work for Nick, who finished his work today.

Early this evening Jackie and I took a drive into the forest.

There seemed to be three options for photography when we arrived at Hatchet Pond: a man throwing sticks into the lake for his dogs to splash after, crows pecking in the grass, and, as a last resort my lens might reach a few groups on the far bank. As I disembarked from the Modus the man and his dogs walked away, and the rooks flew off.

Fortunately, a young lady aimed a judicious kick on the far side.

On Furzey Lane, a young foal, looking enviously at his mother’s tail, the switching of which he tried to emulate with no effect, did his best to dislodge the flies which pestered him, with ineffective kicks and waggling of his abbreviated little brush.

Along Lodge Lane a colourful pheasant strutted in the verge grasses, and inquisitive field horses displayed their fly protection gear.

This evening we all dined on Jackie’s pasta bolognese with fresh salad. The Culinary Queen and Ian drank Hoegaarden, Becky drank Zesty, and I finished the Côtes du Rhône.

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.

Nuzzling

This morning, after visiting Ferndene Farm Shop, Jackie and I took a forest drive.

On the verges of Chapel Lane a group of ponies including a foal caught the attention of a couple of friendly cyclists.

Two little Shetlands shared the pasturage with their larger cousins, one of whom did her best to concentrate on taking in her share despite the attentions of

her young offspring, first suckling, then

persistently nuzzling,

before standing off for a scratch.

Further on, we followed an equestrienne trio towards

Barrack Lane with its adjacent landscape.

A small herd of crème caramel cattle containing calves basked in a field at Norley Wood.

This evening we dined on tender fillet steaks; crisp oven chips, succulent fried onions and peppers, and firm garden peas, with which Jackie drank, Hoegaarden, Flo drank water, and I drank Azinhaga de Ouro Reserva 2019.

Sleeping List

This morning I posted https://derrickjknight.com/2022/05/11/a-knights-tale-132-awaiting-the-arrival/

While streaking rain of varying velocity pelted upon us all afternoon, Jackie drove Flo and me to Lyndhurst where our granddaughter bought a selection of craft materials.

On our return home we diverted into woodland around Brockenhurst.

An egret in Highland Water flew off just after I took this shot.

Reflecting pools were already forming on the recently dry terrain; raindrops pelted rapidly increasing circles over rippling reflections on the stream’s surface, clear enough to reveal

the gravel bed beneath;

year upon year of such deluges have exposed bank-side roots of

lichen-covered oaks.

We drove down the gravelled roadway towards Standing Hat, passing cattle, crows, and ponies occupying the woodlands.

Decaying and lichen-clad fallen branches juxtaposed with old and new fallen leaves demonstrated the march of forest ecology.

We watched a sleeping foal’s continuing list, oblivious of its mother’s easing away for her fodder.

This evening we dined on fishcakes with a soft cheese centre; new potatoes with onions; piquant cauliflower cheese; crunchy carrots; and tender peas with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden, I drank more of the Malbec, and Flo drank elderflower cordial.

Synchronised Grazing

This morning, while Jackie continued her general garden maintenance, including mowing the lawn, lulled by the gentle trill of birdsong and the tinkling trickle of water fountain, I enjoyed a dead heading session before wandering around with my camera.

Roses receiving attention included a peach climber; pink Mum in a Million at two of her stages of life; deep red centred For Your Eyes Only; lighter centred Summer Wine; golden yellow Absolutely Fabulous; pale pink Shropshire Lad and blushing Lady Emma Hamilton in their younger incarnations.

A Small White butterfly alighted on a verbena bonariensis between stems of Festive Jewel;

a comma stopped upon another;

a bee visited a salvia.

The first of these two white plants are hollyhocks grown from allegedly red seed; the second, Japanese anemones.

A pink version of the latter hides a lurking hoverfly.

Gauras, rudbeckia, and double lilies are all doing well.

The Lawn Bed and the Gazebo Path both sport splendid colour.

After lunch, we visited the Barbe Baker Museum shop in Lymington to buy some hand made birthday presents, then continued into the forest.

Ponies grazed on Hatchet Moor within sight of the eponymous pond and its waterlilies,

photographed by me,

and by Jackie,

who also captured the first of these cygnet images,

seen here with their parents.

I watched a wet dog return to the water where it attacked an inoffensive tree.

Its owner informed me that, like Becky’s Scooby, her animal would chase sticks thrown in the water, but never bring them back, so he resorted to replenishing the supply.

A pony foal wandered across the tarmac to the East Boldre end of St Leonard’s Road, and proceeded to accompany its mother in synchronised grazing.

Other members of the group did their best to block the road,

while another did her best to suck soup from the rapidly drying corner pool.

This evening we dined on roast chicken breasts; boiled new potatoes; and fresh salad, with which Jackie drank Greco di Tufo white wine and I drank Torre de Ferro Reserva Dao 2017.

Unicorn Piñata

‘A piñata (/pɪnˈjɑːtə/, Spanish pronunciation: [piˈɲata] (listen)) is a container, often made of papier-mâché, pottery, or cloth, that is decorated, filled with candy, and then broken as part of a celebration. Piñatas are commonly associated with Mexico. The idea of breaking a container filled with treats came to Europe in the 14th century, where the name, from the Italianpignatta, was introduced. The Spanish brought the European tradition to Mexico, although there were similar traditions in Mesoamerica, such as the Aztecs’ honoring the birthday of the god Huītzilōpōchtli in mid-December. According to local records, the Mexican piñata tradition began in the town of Acolman, just north of Mexico City, where piñatas were introduced for catechism purposes as well as to co-opt the Huitzilopochtli ceremony. Today, the piñata is still part of Mexican culture, the cultures of other countries in Latin America, as well as the United States, but it has mostly lost its religious character.’ (Wikipedia)

During her stay here, Tess, for an upcoming birthday party, has produced this unicorn piñata using balloons, capable of being burst by boys with sharp implements, as containers for the papier-maché body trimmed with castellated slices of scrap paper; coloured tissue strips; and a twisted card horn.

It was a delicate operation for Tess to place her creation safely in the car.

This afternoon we led the family on a pony and donkey hunt.

At the top of Holmsley Passage we stopped for a foal and other ponies among the bracken and the heather.

We did encounter one baby donkey trotting with its mother along the road at South Gorley, but by the time we managed to park the cars it was long gone.

In fact the traffic, especially along the narrow lanes, was so congested as to make the trip somewhat abortive, until it was rescued by a trip to Hockey’s Farm Shop for ice cream and fun with the livestock of this establishment, where Poppy was pleased to

stroke a donkey;

see lamas;

pigs at trough;

geese blending with buddleia;

a horse attending to pedicure;

and especially chickens.

We parted at Hockey’s and each made our ways home.

This evening Jackie and I dined on chicken marinaded in Nando’s lemon and lime sauce; her own savoury rice, and fresh salad, with which she drank more of the Sauvignon Blanc and I drank more of the Douro.

The Sound Of Tearing Grass

Humid, leaden, weather continued today, although there was no threat of rain. After a dozy morning I attempted to join Jackie in the garden. I bagged up one set of refuse before realising that this was far too optimistic following the night that had just sapped my energy. The Head Gardener finished her planting, then metamorphosed into my Chauffeuse and drove me into the forest.

We began with our photo report on Pilley Lake which the recent rains have filled a little. The second image shows that foxgloves and brambles still fill the foreground;

sections of road barriers suggest recent works of some sort; and the little pool that had been bone dry a couple of weeks ago now reflects Quarry Cottage on the corner.

The Hatchet Moor section of Hatchet Pond was populated by a pair of swans and their cygnets who circled the surface, weaving through the prolific water lily beds. The last of the avian pictures with lilies was produced by Jackie. We were not the only photographers on an outing.

The only sound in evidence on such a still day was the ponies’ teeth tearing at the grass at East Boldre, in an operation so delicate as to refrain from uprooting the sward.

Like the lake at Pilley, many of the ditches are filling up with rainwater which reflects ponies crossing at East Boldre. Unfortunately I missed a shot of the foal leaping, but he did well.

Although not a football fan I did watch the Euro 2020 championship match between England and Germany. It is, after all, mandatory.

This evening we dined on our second helpings of Red Chilli takeaway with which we both drank Kingfisher.