On 15th September, Ron’s parents will have been married for 70 years. This morning, he brought me their wedding album, from which he has given me the honour of making some prints for a commemorative book he is compiling. So keen was I to show him how I would go about it that I scanned one to begin with.
In the process I managed to delete iPhoto and everything in it, including all the photographs I have worked on over the years. This threw me into something of a panic.
Fortunately Elizabeth managed to help me to open up a new iPhoto file, and learned from Google that it would be possible to recover what I have lost. This would require a phone call to Apple tomorrow, but it gave me peace of mind to enjoy the rest of the day and the facility to post today’s photographs.
In the meantime, Aaron finished his work on paving and gravelling the garden, when he covered the concrete surface at the southern end with shingle.
The exquisite, tiny, little rose, Flower Power, is living up to its name.
This was a perfectly splendid, sunny, day, so when the ladies fancied a cream tea we began with a trip to Gordleton Mill Hotel, where the catering is superb, and where we knew Elizabeth would enjoy the sculpture garden which has already featured in a few of my posts.
Unfortunately they no longer serve cream teas, but were happy to give us coffee on the lawn, within nostrils’ reach of the kitchen extractor emitting appetisingly tempting aromas of Sunday roast dinners, reminiscent of supermarkets wafting the smell of baking bread throughout the stores.
Sun played on the River Avon rippling beneath the white bridge over which it is necessary to walk to reach the hotel.
Ducks were in their element.
I have photographed most of the sculptures on previous occasions, but
this horse made from bicycle parts is new.
Elizabeth was intrigued by it too, especially as she thought nephew Adam would like it.
I have not noticed the dancing hares before (I am indebted to our friend, Barrie Haynes, for pointing out that the hares are boxing, as is, of course, their wont.)
The garden offers many different outlooks. Elizabeth and Jackie adorn this one.
The eucalyptus is beginning to shed its leaves.
Taking a break on a chair, roomy enough for them to share, Jackie and Elizabeth found their feet could not reach the ground.
For those who may not be familiar with the term, a pub crawl is a trip from hostelry to hostelry in search of the perfect pint, or whatever else takes your fancy.
The craving for cream teas remaining unsatisfied, we visited Braxton Gardens tea rooms where Elizabeth and Jackie enjoyed their searched-for treat, consisting of scones, clotted cream, jam, tea, and the attention of wasps who indulged in their own crawl into the unfinished jampots.
After this, we drove via Keyhaven and past the salt marsh and around Hurst Spit to Sturt Pond before returning home.
On the marsh at low tide, turnstones were demonstrating why they are so named.
Silhouetted against the lowering sun, a photographer positioned his subjects
then took the shot.
Before Elizabeth returned home to West End, we enjoyed a Hordle Chinese Take Away meal with which she and I drank Caviller del Diable reserva shiraz 2013. Unfortunately Jackie was out of Hoegaarden.