Much of the day was spent on various pressing administrative tasks; however I did have a walk around the garden during the cool, bright, sunny morning, which turned out to be the most conducive to photography as the afternoon became more overcast.
As can be seen by the filled water fountain on which Jattie’s sculpture, attracting a butterfly rests, there had been no overnight frost.
Antirrhinums, penstemon, and ornamental grasses still stand proud;
winter flowering clematis Cirrhosa “Freckles” claims its season;
sunlight pinpricks the Gazebo Path and penetrates the west fence;
lights the leaves of Japanese maples clinging to the trees and lying across the lawn while some in shadow blend with the rusting top of the patio table; and those of the New Zealand flax, speckled laurel, and the last remaining suspended from the copper beech.
This evening we all dined on Red Chilli’s excellent takeaway fare with which Jackie finished the Pinot Grigio and I drank more of La P’tite Pierre.
This afternoon I wandered around the garden seeking material for Denzil’s latest Nature Challenge.
Here is a random selection which I hope are accurate identifications, although I would be happy to be corrected by anyone who thinks they are not strictly seed heads. Each image bears a title in the gallery. Adventurous readers may wish to regard this as a quiz.
Because I am easily distracted I have added a hoverfly on a Japanese anemone and a wasp on a geranium Rozanne;
because I like a pun I have included a bee on a sedum;
because this year’s honesty pods appear to have been removed, I have resorted to the archives for these, including one through a fence from 1971.
This evening we all dined on meaty pork sausages; luscious Lyonnaise potatoes; firm broccoli and carrots; and further leftover vegetables from yesterday, with which Jackie drank more of the Sauvignon blanc and I finished the La Vieille Ferme rouge.
Individual picture titles will be found on the gallery, otherwise I will leave the title and the sun in charge.
This evening we dined on roast chicken thighs; chipolata sausages; crisp roast potatoes, parsnips and Yorkshire pudding; sage and onion stuffing; flavoursome Brussels sprouts and carrots, with tasty gravy. Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank Cotes de Gascogne Merlot Tannat 2019.
This morning I was lulled into enough of a false sense of security to imagine that, although the heavy winds that have beset us during the last two days and the rain had desisted, the storm may be over.
The late or very early blooming gladiolus, bowed but not broken, rested on Delta’s Sarah fuchsia now basking in sunshine.
Other fuchsias, such as Mrs Popple, Hawkshead, and Army Nurse continue to thrive.
As I wandered around in the glinting sunlight which licked the eucalyptus stems, the grasses and cordyline Australis, and the lingering beech leaves, I grew in confidence of an unexpectedly fine day. Madame Alfred Carriere shared the entrance to the Rose Garden with Summer Wine hips, while Paul’s Scarlet still soared above the wisteria arbour. The house formed a bright backdrop to the view from the red carpet rose in the Rose Garden.
The fallen pot and trug were easily righted, which is more than could be said for Aaron’s truck which had broken down as he tried to leave yesterday. After an hour he sought our blessing to leave it where it was, which of course we gave.
After lunch, in the blink of an eye, the rain returned.
A few more minutes’ respite was soon granted, after which the wind and rain continued to do their worst to blow our house down.
For tonight’s dinner Jackie produced a delicious beef and mushroom pie with boiled potatoes, carrots, cauliflower, and runner beans. She drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the La Repasse.
Yesterday Ron told me about his discovery of a collection of negatives made by his father, Ray Salinger, in the 1940s and ’50s.
Ron scanned these high quality photographs of drinkers in The Walkford pub and e-mailed them to me. We think the man in the apron is the milkman who has just delivered the milk the barman is holding – by horse and cart, of course.
On a humid-damp, dull, overcast afternoon, after a visit to the pharmacy at Milford on Sea, Jackie drove us to
Keyhaven where I walked along the harbour wall.
Strong winds swept across the high tide surface, sending rippling waves shunting weedy scum seething against the stonework,
and sweeping bent grasses alongside.
I watched various boats speeding around the harbour; and a
sailboarder prepare his steed and weave his way among the moored craft.
A boisterous dog enjoyed chasing a floating stick its owner kept throwing for the purpose;
a pair of swans drank their fill.
Perhaps in consideration of the engineers involved in cable work, the owners of a house nearby had placed a polite notice at the start of a neatly mown drive across the sward.
We continued along Saltgrass Lane and observed walkers on Hurst Spit.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s spicy lamb curry, savoury rice, and plain parathas with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Saint Emilion. I was given a special addition of a dish of fried onions, chillis, and garlic to increase the heat of my portion.
Yesterday evening, through the window beside my desk, Jackie photographed glistening pearls strung out by a furry spider.
For reasons which will become particularly apparent from my post “The Foam Rubber Mattress”, patient readers who may have notice an hiatus in the drafting of my autobiography, may be pleased to know that I picked it up again this afternoon. Hoping to have lifted my block I have taken material from that post and from “Chocolate Surprise Pudding”
Jackie carried out more planting, ably hindered by Nugget.
This afternoon we experienced more showers than sunshine as we drove to The Wheel Inn to book a table for lunch to celebrate Mum’s 97th birthday tomorrow.
The rain really set in as we continued into the forest, but desisted just as we had decided to return home. We stayed on at Brockenhurst where
pair of donkeys trotted alongside the school buses transporting youngsters home from Brockenhurst College
and idled past our windscreen.
Ponies
and cattle happily grazed among huge oaks just outside the village.
Pied wagtails are to ponies as robins are to gardeners. We watched one nipping around nearby hooves and muzzles.
Back at home, Jackie took her camera into the garden.
She is particularly pleased with this clematis, shrivelled and wizened when we arrived here five years ago.
Another great survivor is the Phoenix grass we tried to kill, now rising triumphantly from Elizabeth’s Bed.
The Dragon Bed, seen from the Gazebo, was a jungle five years ago.
Sculptural grasses come into their own at this time of the year. These are in the Palm Bed.
The helianthuses Lemon Queen sit before a curtain of Virginia creeper.
She cannot remember the name of this gorgeous fuchsia.
Other favourites are osteospermum;
the waving verbena bonariensis
and the peripatetic cosmoses mingling with them.
This evening we dined on roast chicken with sage and onion stuffing; roast potatoes, including sweet ones; crisp Yorkshire pudding; crunchy carrots and cauliflower with which I drank Patrick Chodot Fleurie 2018.
Yesterday our blogging friend Jill Weatherholt posted about EtchASketch. She asked what toys from our childhoods gave us nostalgic memories. Responding to my comment she prompted me to feature the birthday present I gave Jackie on 1st June this year. She happened to mention her father’s Christmas Santa gifts which were designed
something like this kaleidoscope. Twisting the lens would produce different rose windows viewed from the opposite end of the telescopic device. I, too, cherished childhood memories of such objects. This prompted me, with help from Elizabeth, to research the internet for a genuine antique, as opposed to retro, example.
By turning the tiny handle the lucky children of 1870 were able to produce their own variations.
My short walk on this hot and humid afternoon was
along the clifftop at Barton on Sea, where it looks very much as if there has been more soil erosion since I last tramped there. This pair of readers kept a sensible distance.
Another couple carried their dripping ice creams
to the nearest bench where
taking a large bite was in order.
A number of people brought their own seats. Perhaps the lone woman’s companion had gone in search of ice creams,
perhaps from Marshfield Farm on sale at the Beachcomber café. Someone has lost their bobble hat; the child through the fence has retained his cap.
As always, a number of mobile phones were being put to use.
Mallow and grasses border the footpath;
Photographers shared a crow’s eye view of the Isle of Wight.
Various groups gathered on the beach or in the water; paddling, building sand castles, launching balls for dogs, carrying equipment, or swimming.
Others indulged in photoshoots.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s spicy and aromatic chicken jalfrezi; her turmeric pilau rice, fresh onion salad; and paratha from the little shop in New Milton. The Culinary Queen drank Blue Moon, while I drank more of the New Zealand Merlot.
CLICK ON ANY IMAGE IN A GROUP TO ACCESS ITS GALLERY, INDIVIDUAL MEMBERS OF WHICH CAN BE VIEWED FULL SIZE BY SCROLLING DOWN AND CHECKING BOX AT BOTTOM RIGHT. SINGLE IMAGES CAN BE ENLARGED WITH A CLICK THAT MAY BE REPEATED
Our trip to the forest was somewhat delayed this afternoon;
our passage from our front drive was blocked by the rear section of a container lorry.
Close inspection revealed that this vehicle’s path was blocked by what appeared to be an injured cyclist being supported on the road.
In each direction along Christchurch Road traffic was being turned away by police. I ensured my photographs were anonymous, and thought it would seem unseemly to ask what had happened. Given that the invalid was talking and it was an hour and a half before an ambulance arrived, I can only assume that this was not the direst of emergencies.
Jackie and I were eventually able to depart as police officer, who informed us that the man now being helped into the ambulance had “taken a tumble off his bike”, raised the barrier for Jackie to drive on in the direction of Lymington. On the outskirts of that town another screaming ambulance, blue lights flashing, heralded one more lengthy tailback necessitating us and many others turning back the way we had come. We took the road down to the harbour. Eventually we reached Undershore and escaped to comparatively quiet Pilley.
Near Norley Wood the usual variety of miniature ponies grazed in the light of the late afternoon sun.
Against the backdrop of Beaulieu Abbey and its grounds, a solitary cygnet was surrounded by energetic mallards competing for food in the lake’s shallows. The deeper water was frequented by gliding gulls and sedately sailing swans.
Later we enjoyed a blazing sunset over Hatchet Pond. One gentleman photographing an expectant swan and her cygnet had first lured them with enticing comestibles. As he departed, his models floated off to present their own Rorschach tests.
On our return home we joined Elizabeth in the Royal Oak where we dined. After a pint of Razor Back, with the meal I drank a glass of Merlot. The ladies drank Amstell. My meal was a mixed grill; Elizabeth chose venison sausages, mashed potatoes and perfect vegetables; Jackie savoured gammon steak, chips and salad. The food was as good as ever under the current management.
CLICK ON ANY IMAGE IN A GROUP TO ACCESS ITS GALLERY, INDIVIDUAL MEMBERS OF WHICH CAN BE VIEWED FULL SIZE BY SCROLLING DOWN AND CHECKING BOX AT BOTTOM RIGHT
On a day balmy enough for pink roses, honeysuckle, and solanum to be blooming on the trellis in the front garden, and whatever this flower is in the West Bed (see rusty duck’s identification below),
it seemed rather incongruous to take a trip to MacPenny’s Nursery in Bransgore in search of Autumn colour, but we were not disappointed. The bush rose bringing up the rear of this set of photographs sits in the small garden of Robin’s Nest, the nursery’s cafe, where Jackie enjoyed a scone and a coffee while I went for a wobble in the main garden. I think it rather unkind of her to describe my current gait as such.
There is still a month of the pannage period to go. A motley collection of piglets snuffled their way around the verges of Burley in their frantic search for acorns. One actually sneezed. It wasn’t the black one going for a paddle.
This evening, together with Bill, Jackie and I are dining at Shelly and Ron’s. Should there be anything of moment to report I will do so tomorrow.
CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE. THOSE IN GROUPS ACCESS GALLERIES THAT CAN BE VIEWED FULL SIZE.
This morning we took a drive out to Lepe, during a brief window of sunshine in a gradually gloomier day.
Jackie dropped me off at the Watch House, from which I walked to the car park, alongside which, in the café, she was enjoying a coffee.
Perched on a rocky spit, the occupants of this house, reflected in the water, must have enjoyed an excellent view when on the lookout for smugglers.
A set of steep stone steps leads down from the road
alongside the seafront,
on the other side of which stand the coastguard cottages, still undergoing refurbishment.
A number of pairs walked along the sea wall.
The Dark Water stream flows under the road.
Gulls perched on the wooden breakwaters.
The sea has sculpted some of the piles into abstract forms.
Various vessels sped past the Isle of Wight.
Providing a backcloth to a dog straining to reach a gull, one yacht sailed into the harbour,
and back out to sea.
Turnstones tried their luck on the shingle,
where a spritely little dog dashed about in vain attempts to catch gulls.
The only bird, another turnstone, that it could have caught hopped around at a safe distance in the car park, on one foot. It clearly found enough food.
Alongside the car park,
in the cab of a heavy vehicle, sat a worker wielding a pen. Was he, like Jackie, working his way through a puzzle book?
From Lepe, Jackie drove us to Molly’s Den in New Milton where we bought a birthday present and my debit card was blocked. Fortunately I had enough cash to pay for the item. When we got home a phone call to the bank sorted out the problem. I really can’t be bothered to go into what they had done and the hoops I had to go through to put it right.
Elizabeth, Danni and Andy joined us this evening and we all drove to Lal Quilla in Lymington for the usual excellent meal with really friendly service. Jackie drank Hoegaarden and Andy drank diet Coke. The rest of us shared two bottles of the house merlot. After that, if you expect me to detail the meals other than my own king prawn Ceylon and mushroom rice you will be disappointed.
