Although the sky clouded over later, the sun gleamed over Minstead and its environs as I set off on the Matthew and Oddie walk this morning.
There must have been quite a lot of rain during the night, for water streamed off the fields and into the recently drier ditches. The pothole pools were replenished.
We had missed the Exbury camellias on 13th, but there are a number flourishing in the local gardens. 
As harbingers of spring, camellias are attractively striking shrubs, but the blooms do not last long, and soon turn unpleasant shades of brown before eventually littering the ground beneath them. It is for that reason that Jackie likes to grow clematis climbers of varieties that flower at different times so that there is always a good display twined among the host plants.
Packing continued at such a pace today that we ran out of bubble wrap. This afternoon we drove to Ringwood to buy some more. Not having found enough there, we stopped off at In-Excess on the way back where we increased our stocks still further.
A magnificent water buffalo is firmly tethered by the ankles in the car park, from which one can look down over sloping fields containing ponies, alpacas, and a goat. 
The buffalo is one of an array of splendid recycled metal sculptures on sale in and around the store.
Helen popped over for a visit after we returned home.
Late this afternoon I received an e-mail from the Penyards Manager which gives some grounds for cautious optimism that some resolution may be found on Monday 24th.
Jackie and I dined on delicious sausage casserole (recipe) with crisp, colourful, vegetables of which Uncle Ben would disapprove. I finished the Merlot. Because the dining table is occupied by boxes, bubble wrap, and stuff, we are at the moment eating in our armchairs. When savouring a nice juicy casserole this has rather disastrous consequences for my shirts.
Bill Nighy is one of my favourite actors. I am told he is performing in a play which is now on BBC iPlayer, so we are about to settle down to watch it. I will no doubt have something to say about it tomorrow.
Tag: In-Excess
Best Before
Seated with our coffees in the arbour this morning, Jackie and I noticed that the area around the bird bath was alive with tits and other birds. They were in and out of the bath, but mostly flitting and swooping from shrub to tree. We thought this must be because it is a seed season.
This prompted us to drive out to In-Excess in Ringwood. We had noticed this on our recent trip to Helen and Bill’s. Here we found a first-rate garden centre very reasonably priced. We had gone for squirrel-proof bird feeders and birdseed. We found them. Take Jackie to a garden centre and she fills the car up with plants. I thought I was bad enough with bookshops. Today was no exception. We came back with more than enough to fill the new bed.
Before returning, we had lunch in the centre’s tea rooms. All the staff here were very friendly and helpful. They even guided us through the maze that led to the hidden loos. The young woman who brought Jackie’s baked potato and my Full English breakfast made us feel that it was a real pleasure for her. There was ample room for a gentleman in a wheelchair to manoeuvre himself to a table and settle himself comfortably for his meal.
One of the bags of birdseed we had bought was specifically designed for robins. Our robin, clearly preferring fresh food, stayed with the woodlice and slugs disturbed by our tidying up the remaining unused sections of brick pillar. Another swooped from tree to tree from another direction, landed on the feeder and flew away. Maybe he thought the swinging container a bit unstable. Maybe our presence put him off. Maybe he feared being seen off by the robin who has claimed this as his territory. 
We hung two feeders on the pergola, and two on the tree by the pond. Later, our own robin, now sporting a fine adult red breast, took possession of his new feeder and gratefully chomped away.
Jackie spent the afternoon planting our new acquisitions, especially those for the bed I created yesterday. While she did this I began a print-out of my blog posts which I intend to bind and present to Mum for her 90th. birthday in October.
This evening Jackie presented us with more left-overs soup; shepherd’s pie; and, in my case, bread and butter pudding, in the ladies’, lemon souffle. Elizabeth and I drank Namaqua 2011, and Jackie, Hoegaarden.
During conversation, we spoke of best before and sell-by dates. Knowing that the provenders are bound to be on the conservative side, I tend to rather dismiss these precautions, preferring to rely on my nose. I did this in 2006 in Newark, when I found a jar of Indian chutney at the back of a kitchen cupboard. This had been shipped over to this country. I could tell that because even the script on the original label was unintelligible to me. Pasted across this was a sticker in English proclaiming a best before date of 1999. ‘Well’, I thought, ‘it’s pickle after all’. I used it. It was hot and strong and delicious. The wife of a friend of Matthew’s, on the other hand, would not entertain anything unless it was well within the recommended time scale. Shopping with Mat one day, she refused to buy an avocado, because it did not carry a sell-by date.
Bins
Security is tight in In Excess in West End High Street. Jackie and I went shopping there this morning for six three metre long gravel boards, which were the last ingredients for the compost bins. Elizabeth had checked out yesterday that we would be given facilities to saw these up in the store, because they were too long to fit into Jackie’s car. Usually, when we have extra long items to carry, we stick them through the side between the passenger seat and the window. This means I have to try limbo dancing to enter the car. Given that the boards needed sawing to make the slats for the bins, it made sense to spare me that discomfort.
Having selected the boards I asked for the usual facilities. I was given a piece of paper with our purchases written on it and told to go to the cash desk and pay for them, where I would receive a receipt. I should take that to the door at the back of the shop, where I would be given a saw and a tape measure. On no account was I to walk through that door which led to the staff only area. Staff were walking in and out. To reach the other door to that area, which led outside the building, I had to leave the store by the front door, walk along the high street, down a side road, through the path leading to the Asda car park, and turn right. On reaching the back door I was asked where my car was. As we hadn’t known there was space for cars to load and unload by the back door, Jackie’s car was in the side road. ‘My wife is in the store’, I said, and made for the door to the shop, so I could tell her. My way was physically barred by two staff members. I swear that if I hadn’t stopped I would have been rugby tackled. To find Jackie and let her know she could bring the car round, I had to retrace my steps to the front door to get back inside. Whilst searching for her inside, I glanced through the window and saw her in the street. I walked back round and Jackie brought the car up.
On presentation of my receipt, I was given a saw. I had to plead for a measuring tape. ‘Where do I do it?’, I asked, eyeing the upturned black dustbin which the staff were using. ‘You can’t have that’, I was told, ‘use the wheelie bins outside’. The man, friendly enough, brought the boards through their workroom and leant them against the wall by three wheelie bins, which made a more or less secure sawhorse. Jackie held the boards as firm as was possible on the wobbly wheelie bins. I sawed them up and we took them to The Firs where the finishing touches were applied to the unwobbly compost bins. The recycling receptacles, apart from £58 worth of new wood, had been made with recycled material.
Whilst I had been building the compost bins, Jackie had been engaged in more pruning and clearance from shrubberies. She had filled nine large canvas garden waste sacks. 
We took them to the municipal dump, and, following family practice, I did not come away empty handed. I bought an etched glass half-pint tankard for 20p. Not having any change I gave 50p. for it.
This afternoon Elizabeth, Danni, and I moved desks around. This meant Jackie got a smaller potting table in the garage; her bigger one came upstairs for use as my computer table; and my computer desk went downstairs for Ellie, Elizabeth’s new assistant. Anyone who doesn’t remember Bernard Cribbins’s 1962 hit record ‘Right Said Fred’ should listen to it on U tube in order to get the flavour of our effort.
Paul and Lynne collected us this evening and Paul drove us to The Veranda in Wickham, where we ate an excellent Indian meal accompanied by various Indian lagers.