Flo’s Take On The House In The Wood

As will be seen from yesterday’s post, Florence accompanied us on our visit to this glorious garden.

She produced her own splendid photographic record.

I am particularly grateful to her for the images created from beside the lake which I, adjudging the descent too precarious, was unable to reach. As usual each of these images are titled in the galleries.

Rough Sleeping

This afternoon I scanned a few more recently rediscovered colour slides from August 2008. These are from a visit to Kew Gardens.

Beside the lake huge gunnera grow; upon it plays a splendid fountain.

The Titan Arum, or Amorphophallus Titanum, otherwise, on account of its putrid pong, known as the corpse plant, a native of Sumatra, is grown in the tropical hothouse. My second image bears a loose resemblance to the unfortunate hooded Elephant Man of Victorian England.

Later, I received a text inviting me to book an appointment for a Covid vaccine at our own surgery in Milford on Sea. This has to be done on line. If I don’t do it I will receive a phone call next week. Having already been offered and booked one in Christchurch I tried to telephone to discuss this. It was, of course, not possible. It looks as if I will take the bird in the hand.

With two more chapters of ‘Little Dorrit’ read, I scanned two more of Charles Keeping’s inimitable illustrations.

First we have ‘It became necessary to lead Mr F’s Aunt from the room’, which offers three different, accurate portraits.

‘Past homeless people lying coiled up in nooks’ depicts a social ill which to some lesser extent is still with us, as demonstrated by this East End Review article of April 15th 2015:

‘The homeless person sleeping rough might be a common image in London today, but in the 19th century there were hundreds spilling onto the streets every night.

Short but powerful, the new exhibition Homes of the Homeless: Seeking Shelter in Victorian London at the Geffrye Museum seeks to illuminate the daily struggle of the bitterly poor in the city 200 years ago. What this exhibition highlights most candidly is the juxtaposition between the Victorian ideal of the home and the reality of destitution in this period.

Some took to sleeping in London’s parks, while others tumbled into shelters and workhouses, where conditions varied massively. Queueing for accommodation was something frequently seen on the streets come dark, even in central locations like Covent Garden, and protests broke out as hundreds camped out in Trafalgar Square.

The Pinch of Poverty by Thomas Benjamin Kennington 1891. Credit: The Foundling Museum
The Pinch of Poverty by Thomas Benjamin Kennington 1891. Credit: The Foundling Museum

Touching in so many different ways, the exhibition features paintings, photographs, testimonials and engravings all depicting homelessness in its various guises. The destitute family was a common image, with children evoking particular sympathy, and billboards and newspapers both carried adverts imploring people to give whatever they could to support the city’s more unfortunate souls. The government did, by today’s standards, much to stem the flow of homelessness in the capital, but as the century progressed, the problem became more difficult to contain.

Homes of the Homeless charts this challenge, touching on the different approaches to homelessness – from casual wards where ‘inmates’ could exchange hard labour for a place to sleep, to model lodging houses that were designed to more closely imitate a real home – as well as real people’s reactions to their dire circumstances, collected from investigative journalism and charity reports.

Thoroughly researched and straightforwardly presented, this exhibition is accessible to anyone interested in the history of London. With glaring relevance today, it presents a significant slice of history that should not be overlooked, and an important lesson in charity and compassion. Homes of the Homeless is a succinct, enlightening exhibition in one of London’s most charming museums.’

This evening we dined on Jackie’s wholesome chicken and vegetable stewp with crusty bread, with which I drank more of the Macon.

An Early Post Box

CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE. REPEAT IF REQUIRED.

The Dragon Bed sign

A couple of days ago Jackie made a new sign for The Dragon Bed, and left a photograph on my camera.

Paul and Margery made a brief visit at lunchtime in order to deliver a birthday present ordered from their last exhibition. Both were looking in fine fettle.

Afterwards, Jackie drove us around the forest.

HeatherHeathland floor

Like many other plants this year, the heather seemed to be blooming early.

Ponies and heather 1Heather and poniesPonies and heather 2

Not that the ponies noticed.

Ponies and heather 3

They just kept their eyes on the grass.

Ladywell 1

On the outskirts of Burley we took a pot-holed drive down Tyrell’s Lane,

Ladywell 2

where I was struck by the topiary fronting a house called Ladywell. This reflected the thatched roofing

Peacock thatch

which bears a peacock motif on top.

Gunnera

Next door, Tyrell’s Way’s garden sports a magnificent gunnera.

Sheep

As I have occasionally mentioned, sheep are inquisitive creatures. This one in a field at the end of Tyrell’s drive, even lifted its head from its grazing at my approach.

Sheep models

This was in stark contrast to the low maintenance ovine mother and child occupying a garden in Furzley, who completely ignored me.

Shetland pony 1Shetland pony 2

Stony Cross Plain, just north of the A31, seems to be the province of Shetland ponies,

Shetland pony 3

one of which thought that a discarded tissue was not to be sniffed at.

Shetland pony foal 2

A recumbent foal

Shetland pony foal

occasionally stirred itself to stand. This creature has become accustomed to flies,

Pony and foal 1

which is more than can be said for its younger cousin at Nomansland, still skipping in confusion at the irritation.

Jackie at Powder Mill post box

A visit to Eyeworth Pond revealed nothing of interest, except for this post box near the Royal Oak, that we had not noticed before. Shultze gunpowder factory operated near the pond from the 1860s until the early 20th century. This receptacle was erected to make the postman’s life easier, in the days before delivery vans. It was recently restored by the Forestry Commission.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s roast chicken, savoury rice, breaded mushrooms, tempura vegetables, and salad. She drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the cabernet sauvignon/tempranillo.

Painting The Scene

Lake

This morning we took Sheila to visit the Gordleton Mill Hotel and garden. Although there was a private function in the hotel, having walked down a few steps and across the bridge over the River Avon, we were welcomed in the bar and on the patio where we each enjoyed a cappuccino. One of the attractions of this beautiful garden is its array of artwork, much of which I photographed on our visit of 2nd April.

There were still a few I had not featured before, such as

Organic woman

the front view of Organic Woman, the rear of which greets you as you drive in;

Stone sculpture

the same artist’s Stone sculpture;

Stone Ware sculpture

Stone Ware;

Apple and pear sculpture

or this apple and pear.

Tree sculpture

Should you prefer tree sculpture there is this moustachioed chap,

Wood Spirit sculpture

or the Wood Spirit.

Chairs and gunnera

Two vacant chairs against a backdrop of gunnera, waited patently for occupants. Unbeknown to me, as I followed in their tracks, Jackie and Sheila had apparently obliged, whilst I was inside settling the bill.

Iris and fountain sculpture

 Yellow  irises were sprayed by a sculpted fountain, creating a scene being depicted by

Painters

two attractive artists, their materials spread out on the woven furniture.

We enjoyed a pleasant chat before I continued catching up Jackie and Sheila who had progressed to another area which, in turn, led up some steps revealing another beautiful garden room, in which three women strolled with glasses of wine..

Garden

This afternoon I cut the grass and Jackie continued weeding and pruning. I have to admit that, were I to do the weeding, I would be bound either to pull up something I shouldn’t, or to leave to flourish a plant better uprooted. My contribution to this exercise is to gather up the containers of the head gardener’s refuse, carry them up to the compost area, then backtrack, by which time she will have filled a wheelbarrow, and I would return to the heap.

As a little respite from this trudging, I took a brief wander down Downton Lane which has more than its share of blind bends on which a scooter has just enough room to pass an oncoming car.Narrow bend

iris foetidissima

Iris foetidissima now flourishes on the verges.

This evening the three of us dined at The Plough Inn at Tiptoe. We enjoyed the usual excellent fare, with friendly and efficient service. My choice was home made pork, apple, and cider pie encased in proper short crust pastry, boiled potatoes, cauliflower, carrots and cabbage with tasty gravy, followed by New Forest ice cream; Jackie’s was chicken fricassee followed by a firm, yet, moist cheesecake; Sheila’s was scampi with boiled potatoes and a plentiful, fresh, salad. I drank a superb rioja; Jackie, draught Peroni; and Sheila, sparkling water.