frozen brambles – derrickjknight

First thing this morning I photographed a moth conveniently spread out on the kitchen work surface. When I showed the picture to Jackie she said ‘you know it’s dead, don’t you?’ She had picked it up from the floor and laid it to rest so that I would be able to photograph it. Possibly she has me sussed.

For at least a week now the car has been throwing a spanner in the dashboard. At intervals it has elaborated on this warning sign with the message Change Oil Service Required. The vehicle was booked in today. Despite really struggling with Shingles Jackie was determined to take it in. So off we went to Ringwood. Wells garage is just outside the town. Whenever we go there we wander to the shops and await a call from Tony to say the car is ready. Today, before shopping, we had brunch in the Aroma Bistro where the excellent food and friendly service is as good as it was when discovered in December last year.

Shopping included more photographic material from Wessex Photographic, among which were the Red and the Green Canon Series 8 inks. So accustomed am I to no-one, especially Jessops, where I bought the printer, ever having these in stock, that I told the assistant I expected to have to order them. She went straight to them and pulled them off the rack. Most of the other six different inks required to make the printer work can be obtained somewhere or other, with the notable exception of the original supplier. They are exhausted very quickly. The red and green varieties can last a year, which is maybe why they are not usually on the shelves.

It really took quite a long time for us to walk back to Wells garage. The way is along very pleasant lanes and footpaths, except for the underpass that takes us to the requisite side of the A31. Some civic authority decided to brighten up this route with art works. Quite reasonable representations of well known paintings adorn the well-lit tunnel. Given that these are usually pretty dispiriting thoroughfares I thought this an excellent idea. One would have hoped it could have deterred the graffiti wits. Unfortunately not. It even seems to have encouraged them. The tunnel is named ‘A Walk Of Art’. There is someone after my own ‘eart in an influential position in the town.

We had not received the usual phone call, but Jackie really needed to sit down, so we decided to return and wait at Wells’s, taking several rests en route. Tony warned us that we would still have to wait for an hour and a half. We settled down to wait, during which time we got talking to Hazel, the Managing Director of this long-established family firm. I had been amused by her telling the others that she had been correct about an unnecessary bank query. NatWest had corrected her addition of cheques paid in by machine. She knew she was right and was able to prove it. The amount in question was 20p. Well, it was the principle that mattered.

Service at Wessex Photographic had been startling. Service at the Bistro had been friendly and welcoming. The car had been booked in for a short service, but what follows was extensive service. As we spoke with Hazel, Tony appeared clutching a piece of broken front suspension spring. Things were going to take a bit longer. Not even knowing of Jackie’s illness, Hazel arranged for Peter to drive us home in one of the firm’s cars. This friendly local man did so willingly. Having known the deceased owner for more than fifty years, Peter has a three morning a week job in retirement, doing any driving around that needs to be done.

Back home, it was down to work in the ‘factory’. After a lie-down Jackie was raring to go and getting me to produce cropped versions of pictures we had already used in toto. The frozen brambles is one example. The benefit for her is that she doesn’t have to chop them up, just breathe down my neck whilst I play on the screen.

Today’s tally was 29 cards, bringing the total to 182. After this Jackie was still able to produce our evening meal of keema, certainly not korma, curry; tandoori chicken and special fried rice. My drink was Roc des Cevaliers Bordeaux superieur 2011; hers was Hoegaarden.

Dawn across the lawn was stunning this morning.

We took advantage of the beautiful conditions and drove cross-country to Shaftesbury in Dorset. On probably our coldest day this year the temperature was mostly below freezing and never rose above 2 degrees centigrade. The proliferating pools on the forest floor remained frozen. The Hampshire forests and moors gave way, as we crossed into Wiltshire and Dorset, to frosted fields and picturesque villages with names like Martin, Tollard Royal, Sixpenny Handley, and Gussage St. Andrew. Thatched roofs abounded.

On the New Forest stretch many ponies were grazing, and two deer scudded across the road in front of us. A white-surfaced golf course was providing fodder for two ponies, one of which was defrosting the green. Munching comfortably, close to the red flag of a hole, the only actually verdant area was a neat circle around the animal’s muzzle. We thought that this equine trespass would probably make for some interesting putting for the golfers.

Whilst in Wiltshire I was so engrossed in a telephone conversation I was having with Becky that I did not notice Jackie slow down, drive into a farm entrance, perform a three point turn, and return the way we had come. I did notice her bring the car to a standstill. Looking out of my window I learned what had brought about this about turn. The roadside to my left bore a clump of crystallised brambles.

Thank you, my subject scout.

As we paused in a layby above Shaftesbury, to take in the splendid views descending to the level of the town, Jackie mentioned that one March she had sat at that spot, watching mad March hares leaping up and down in the fields below. Throughout the town we noticed representations of these creatures, so hers was clearly not an uncommon experience. Soon after this we came to a very hairy corkscrew in the road, rapidly twisting and turning until our goal was reached. Having parked the car, we wandered along the high street until we came to Gold Hill, the steep cobbled road made famous in 1973 by the Hovis television advertisement produced by Ridley Scott, who was to become even more famous as one of our major feature film directors. In 2010 Victoria Pendleton posed as the girl on the bike replacing ‘The Boy on the Bike’ in the original minor masterpiece. She, currently, is probably even more world famous.

We both walked down and back up Gold Hill. I then left Jackie in the comfort of a coffee bar and restaurant at the top of the hill, walked down again and had a ramble before joining her. At the bottom of the hill I turned left along Layton and then Hawkdene Lanes, then left again and eventually back into the town centre which I explored for a while.

Alongside the carpark we had noticed an Indian restaurant and decided to lunch there. This was the Aroma, an absolutely marvellous establishment in an unpretentious situation. It is to be thoroughly recommended. The food was top quality, the decor tasteful, and the service excellent. We drank our usual Kingfisher and Cobra.

Jackie hadn’t had enough time to ‘do’ all Shaftesbury’s charity shops, and hadn’t explored the town as much as I had, so after our meal we put that right. In my earlier exploration I had found The Cygnet Gallery at Swan’s Yard, and bought a couple of presents there. Consequently I introduced Jackie to this artists’ cooperative and we bought another, and some cards. The shop has a range of beautifully produced items including paintings, photography, ceramics, leatherwork, jewellery, and others. I found it particularly good because everything was of good quality and craftspersonship. They were carrying no-one. Prices were very reasonable.

On our return the hills above Shaftesbury seemed to be full of pheasants attempting to get themselves plastered on the tarmac. There were the usual ponies wandering across the road, and as the sky was darkening we were relieved we were not in the dead of night on the unlit road across the moors of Hampshire.

A late evening fry-up with toast completed the day

Tag: frozen brambles

A First Class Service

Gold Hill