This morning I walked along Christchurch Road to New Milton to visit the bank to make a transfer and the station to check train times for my next London visit. Jackie shopped in Lidl then met me in the car park near the Council Office and drove me home.
Along the busy, meandering, and undulating main road lay fields of sheep. 
Four childless ewes in a small field sheltered from the drizzling rain that lent a sparkle in the morning light to roadside trees, some displaying apple blossom.
A suckling lamb’s tail wagged up and down, possibly, like a small dog, in anxiety, until it had grasped the teat. Further along the road others showed the usual inquisitiveness at my passing. All bore identification colouring.
A small corner of a field on the left hand side of the road seems to be where the very young creatures begin their lives.
Variegated gravel heaps seem a not unattractive feature of the landscape.
The one door in the house now capable of being locked is that to the family bathroom. This was not always the case. 
The catch plate, you see, was screwed in at a level placing its bottom screw in the lowest hole that can be seen in the door-jamb. Obviously the lock was not aligned with it. Maybe the idea of moving this down had been abandoned. I repositioned the receptive piece this afternoon. 
The door itself doesn’t bear too much scrutiny.
David Fergusson was unable to deliver the chests of drawers today, because his son has had an emergency appendectomy.
Later, when I walked down to the post box, shrieking black headed gulls swooped over the stubble field.
This evening we dined at The Royal Oak. My choice was steak and ale pie; Jackie’s was breaded scampi with a side of onion rings. I had a starter of vegetable soup; she finished with New York Cheesecake; I enjoyed apple crumble. My beer was Flack’s; Jackie’s was Becks.