Mum is recovering from a throat infection for which she has been treated with antibiotics.
On our visit this morning she demonstrated the site of her discomfort and explained that she had refused to stay in bed in favour of sitting in her chair to get herself moving.
This afternoon we took a drive into the forest.
The sight of ponies exercising their ancient pasturage privileges in view of Fawley Refinery from Exbury Road prompted reflection on past and present juxtaposition..
Nearby, different reflections remain temporarily possible in a rapidly drying rippling pool. Long shadows were cast across both expanding borders and diminishing water levels.
Most of our verges, like these alongside Lepe Road, carry swathes of bluebells, celandines, primroses, and daffodils.
Jackie parked overlooking Lepe while I photographed
yachts passing the Isle of Wight coastal buildings including a string of beach huts; a motorised dinghy on its way over there;
a window in the wall of The Watch House; bright blue grape hyacinths beside the road;
and a family walking with a dog.
This evening we dined on our customary second helpings of yesterday’s Chinese fare which is still good. Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank Mendoza Trivento Reserve Malbec 2019.
There is now some confusion about whether it is acceptable here to drive to an exercise location. Today I confined myself to our garden and the footpath across Roger Cobb’s farm on Downton Lane. This was once a regular walk – before my knee surgeries.
In the garden more tulips are opening
and daffodils continue to please.
The Cryptomeria Bed also contains cyclamen.
From the Weeping Birch Bed we enjoy various views.
Camellias crop up everywhere.
This one stands beside our eastern fence;
some bushes bear both blooms now turning to parchment and new buds on the way.
Shrubs, like this tree peony, pruned in autumn, are producing new shoots.
Soon the remodelled North Breeze house will be shielded from view.
Our house, however, will remain visible from the Heligan Path.
On Downton Lane the refuse bags were piled outside houses for collection a little later.
One household clearly needed more than one bottle bin – possibly to help them through the pandemic.
Grape hyacinths stood on a bank opposite
celandines and dandelions blending with primroses on the verges
like this one alongside Old Rode House.
Roger’s five-barred gate to the footpath was locked, but the kissing gate beside it was accessible. As far as I know this pleasant farmer is the only one in the area who really respects ramblers’ rights.
The grass strip along the centre is well stocked with wild lamium;
blackberry brambles are burgeoning with new shoots in the hedges
through which houses on Christchurch Road may be glimpsed.
The footpath is mostly dry, but the fields are rutted with rainwater runnels.
I did not venture across the tractor-scoured terrain which offered another view of the Downton dwellings mentioned earlier,
and others on Downton Lane.
While I was thus gadding about, Jackie was producing culinary recycling. Her finely chopped ingredients were boiled on the hob;
mashed in the Moulinex;
decanted into ice cream tubs;
labelled and placed in the freezer.
Here are her directions for the preparation of Compost Soup Base, handwritten on one of my sheets of scrap paper from 2009.
This morning I printed a set of photographs for Aaron of his grappling with the erection of the Agriframes Bower.
After this Elizabeth dropped in to return a hammer and drink a cup of tea. She stayed for lunch after which we engaged in a wide-ranging discussion much of which centred on the coronavirus. This pandemic now seems to be following a geometric progression throughout Europe with consequences that are beginning to effect us all.
Andy, Elizabeth’s beloved son-in-law, despite asthma and diabetes, Â has trained steadily for this year’s London marathon which has now been postponed to October.
Louisa and her family are booked to visit her brother, Sam, and his family in Australia in a couple of weeks’ time. It must be touch and go whether they will be able to fly.
With 41 cases of the virus now in our county the inevitable procedures have yesterday been implemented in Mum’s care home. Only near relatives can visit: we have to ring the bell for admission; wash; and have our temperature taken when inside. It can only be a matter of time before visits will be banned altogether. On leaving us, my sister would go on to see Mum and report back on the smoothness of the procedure.
After rain during the rest of the afternoon spent reading I wandered, camera round neck, while the weak evening light still held.
It only takes a twitch from me for the birds to scatter from the feeders suspended from the prunus Autumnalis in the front garden which contains a range of plants including
euphorbias, also found elsewhere, such as
on the back drive borders.
Ipheions persistently push through the patio paving;
Numerous hellebores,
and daffodils add their splashes of colour. The peach-centred beauties above are from a trough Jackie planted up for Mum when she was still in her own home.
Primroses appear throughout the garden, but there are still some waiting for a permanent place.
We now have some idea of the tints of the tulips sharing their pots with purple pansies.
Grape hyacinth spears stand proud. These are fronted by New Zealand flax.
The more cultivated hyacinths transplanted from gift pots continue to thrive.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s beefy cottage pie; crunchy carrots; and tender cabbage and runner beans with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank Casillero del Diablo Reserva Merlot 2018.
Stormy weather and a heavy cold have kept me indoors for the last week. Today the wind has dropped to 20 m.p.h. and the sun has shone. I therefore took a walk in the garden. Jackie now has the cold and is currently housebound.
Our winter flowering cherry remains bright against the blue sky above.
The copper beech and the weeping birch still display their skeletal frames;
pruned roses are biding their time to burst forth in bloom.
Golden forsythia glows beside the patio.
Whichever way you look at them, the old cart wheels and the gazebo arches have designs on the gravel path,
visible beyond this end of the Phantom Path.
Camellias still bloom and bud throughout the shrubberies.
Daffodils still abound. Those in the patio are accompanied by tulips, pansies, and violas.
Primulas, bergenias, hellebores, cyclamens, comfrey, alliums, grape hyacinths, and pulmonaria all await discovery in the beds.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s piquant cauliflower cheese served with rashers of bacon, followed by lemon Bakewell tarts.
CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE. THOSE IN GROUPS ACCESS GALLERIES THAT CAN BE VIEWED FULL SIZE BY SCROLLING DOWN AND CLICKING THE RELEVANT BOX.
In the garden this morning, envious of the attention given to the daffodils yesterday, many other plants clamoured to be photographed.
Readers may have noticed a hyacinth lurking among the daffodils. Here are a couple more, one seeking camouflage from the as yet uncleared autumn leaves.
Cowslips soar from the soil at the bottom of the back drive.
Along the beds there we have perennial wallflowers and primroses. That lady’s bedstraw will have to come out.
Alliums are beginning to proliferate,
and grape hyacinths are popping up.
Some bulbs, like these forcing their way through geraniums
or these from between patio stones, we cannot identify. The second, thanks to Rusty duck’s comment below, I can now say is Ipheion uniflorum. Geoff, thebikinggardener.com has added this information: ‘The first one – the pinkish one, is Chionodoxa ‘Pink Giant’ and the next one is Ipheion uniflorum as you say – although it has just had its name changed to Tristagma. (not just a minute ago)’
Some aubretia seem almost fluorescent.
The tiny clematis Cirrhosa now festoons the gazebo.
Jackie spent the morning clearing the garden beds, while I transferred the residue to the compost heaps.
Anyone who has followed this blog for the last two and a half years will know how invaluable Aaron, of A.P. Maintenance has been. He gets through a phenomenal amount of work on his regular Sunday morning visits. Today, for example, not only did he finish weeding the back drive, but he also
fixed the House sign into position at the front of the house
and pruned the crab apple trees in order to promote fruit for next winter’s blackbirds.
Jackie’s sign has now been switched to the other side of the entrance.
Ponies in the New Forest are normally to be seen fending for themselves. They are naked but for their own hair which generally lengthens during the winter; and they have to find their own food. Late in the afternoon, we drove out into the forest where, close to Linford, I spotted an equine group who appeared to be enjoying hotel facilities. They were all chomping away at a large hay bin, and one wore a rug. Like young children at the trough, more of the fodder landed on the floor than reached their stomachs.
The five-barred gate on which I leant to photograph the diners bore the sign for Newlands Farm. On our return home I Googled the farm. It was indeed a horse hotel of sorts. This is what their website has to say:
“Newlands offers you over 75 acres of well-managed grassland. We offer two types of grass livery care packages,with amazing riding from the farm gate directly onto the open New Forest , with no roadwork at all.
The farm is superbly located being less than 3 minutes from the market town of Ringwood yet set right within the New Forest National Park. The farm is run and situated alongside New Forest Livery and Training. Newlands is a professionally-managed farm providing superb grazing and care packages for your horse combined with access to superb outriding.
Grass Livery – Horses at grass are either :
– Visited regularly by their owners, or
– Retired/resting, ‘Owner-Away Option’, where owners visit less often, so we maintain the care.”
This evening we dined on Mr Chatty Man Chan’s Hordle Chinese Take Away’s delicious fare. I finished the Fleurie while Jackie drank sparkling water.
Aaron brought a friend to help today so he could finish by lunchtime. They sawed up the wood pile, then replanted a clump of grass roots which had been removed from the back drive some weeks ago, and, despite attempts to burn it, had refused to die. I understand that the Australian eucalyptus needs the heat of a forest fire to germinate its seeds. Maybe our grass is related to that tree.
I managed to clear a space by the side of the house for the logs to be stacked before wandering around the garden with my camera.
Focussing on our profusion of blue-hued flowers, and thinking of Giles who enjoys them, I photographed:
forget-me-nots,
periwinkles,
grape hyacinths,
violets,
celandines,
and pansies.
Whilst preparing this post I listened to what is probably the finest recording of spontaneous jazz improvisation ever made. During two sessions in 1959 Miles Davis, the legendary trumpeter, led a group including Julian ‘Cannonball’ Adderly, Paul Chambers, James Cobb, John Coltrane, Bill Evans, and Wynton Kelly, in the production of the album ‘Kind of Blue’.
Evans, in his original programme notes, writes: ‘Miles conceived these settings only hours before the recording dates and arrived with sketches which indicated to the group what was to be played. Therefore you will hear something close to pure spontaneity in these performances. The group had never played these pieces prior to the recordings and I think without exception the first complete performance of each was a “take”.’
I you don’t have access to a copy, try it on YouTube.
This afternoon Flo continued her wildlife garden photography.
Unaware of my blue theme, she featured a bee on pulmonaria.
She also captured a white butterfly on the wing,
a tightrope-walking long-tailed tit,
a greenfinch on a feeding tray,
and a resting hoverfly.
She even threw in a shot of Norman’s parrot, which now hangs in our kitchen.
Finally, she persuaded Eric to pose for his portrait.
This evening we dined out on Ian.
Not literally. He just paid for it. He took us on a visit to La Viña in Lymington. It was a most enjoyable tapas bar. The food was excellent and the service extremely friendly if a little tardy. I can’t really detail the dishes because they were in Spanish, but they included a mixed paella, calamari, sardines, chorizo, asparagus, fried potatoes, meat balls and tortilla. Jackie and Ian drank Estrella beer; Becky and I shared a bottle of tempranillo; and Flo drank apple juice.
As I put out the bin bags at dawn this morning, the smoking fire further East down Christchurch Road revealed itself to be a blazing sun emerging to presage the splendid day we were to enjoy.
A little later, a crouching figure was seen to dart across to my desk and scamper back again. This was Flo, having risen surprisingly early to commandeer my camera for the next hour or so.Â
She must have got the bug yesterday for she was to produce some even more successful pictures of our garden birds.
Here is a selection of her work:
A thrush on the rooftop projected its shadow into the ether. How this shot was achieved will be revealed tomorrow, for the benefit of those who haven’t worked it out.
She captured house sparrows, both female
and male.
The collared dove had found a new perch.
Flo interrupted a jay’s breakfast, but it carried on regardless.
A female greenfinch continued with hers
while her consort launched himself from the feeder.
A blackbird ignored the spider’s web beneath it.
Starlings are notoriously greedy beasts. Alone they must wait their turn at the trough.
An inquisitive robin removed its head from the feeder, straightened up, and engaged in a game of peep-bo.
Finally a jackdaw snaffled two peanuts
and, of course, flew off at the sight of the camera.
When the Canon SX700 HS was returned to me I took a hobble down the garden and a few yards into Downton Lane.
Our honesty is now in flower,
as is the epimedium
and the skimmia at the entrance to the back drive.
The lane itself has a profusion of
primroses,
celandines,
cowslips,
daisies,
and grape hyacinths.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s superb chicken jalfrezi (recipe), boiled egg curry, egg fried rice (recipe), and paratas. Jackie, Ian, and I drank Kingfisher; Becky drank rose; and Flo, J2O.
1st April 2014 Ian stayed over again last night in order to help us today. Some of what had not been fitted into the van spent the night in our prospective son-ion-law’s car. The rest stayed in the Castle Malwood Lodge garage for collection this morning when we let the cleaners in. I was up first and, with mist moisture dripping onto me from the splendidly ornamental garden trees, began emptying Ian’s car.
Our new garden has a wonderful range of plants. Although they were somewhat veiled by the said mist, I photographed a sample, including daffodils, blue and white scillas, euphorbia, camellias, and grape hyacinths. It will be exciting, as the year unfolds, discovering what we have through the changing seasons. The three of us then drove to Minstead where we loaded the two cars with the final contents of our rented garage, and drove back to Downton, after which we all travelled to the Needles Eye cafe and enjoyed all-day breakfasts, Ian and mine being the maxed-up version that signifies two of everything. Ian followed us back to Minstead where we bade our farewells to an indispensable support and helper. The two young women who were CME, the cleaning company’s operatives spent six hours doing a marvellous job on the end of tenancy clean, so Jackie and I had quite a wait in the sunshine before we could lock up. The final stage of the departure from Minstead was the return of the keys to Penyards in Winchester. We did this at 7.30 p.m. and drove back to Milford on Sea and the Zaika restaurant’s Tuesday Banquet Night. This was clearly, rightly, very popular. Staggering back to our new home, all we had to remember was whether to turn left or right at the top of the stairs to our bedroom. Our broadband home hub will not be activated until 4th. In the meantime we have been told we can use BT WiFi. There is, however, no reception for this in Downton. A WiFi search is for another day.
