It was just about warm enough on a not very bright morning for us to visit Mum in the
beautifully designed, planted, and well maintained, garden at Woodpeckers this morning.
While waiting for my mother to be wheeled out I enjoyed a conversation with the gardener who works on this plot with the help of a group of volunteers.
Our visit lasted an hour with much more to talk about than is possible inside and through a screen. There was no difficulty with hearing each other and we could listen to and discuss chirping smaller birds and chattering jackdaws while watching a pair of robins darting backwards and forwards with beaks full of wriggling things.
This was Mum responding to the story about my fall in the flower bed. She was delighted to know that her photograph would be going round the world..
Afterwards we drove to Helen and Bill’s at Fordingbridge, briefly to deliver Jackie’s sister’s sunglasses and sunflowers she had left at our house a couple of days ago.
At Hale, while its mother picked daisies, a foal stirred itself to roll over and attempt to rise at the sight of my camera, then, deciding it couldn’t be bothered and flopped back into its ditch-bed.
The spreading limbs of an ancient oak framed the cropped landscapes of the green.
Along with a couple of other groups we picnicked overlooking the moorland below Abbotswell.
Beside the well-stocked woodland verge of a North Gorley lane
sprawled the gnarled arms of a broadly smiling Green Man.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s flavoursome savoury rice as a base for succulent roast chicken thighs, and prawns, both hot a spicy and salt and pepper preparations, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Shiraz..
Yesterday evening I reached a point past nine more of Charles Keeping’s illustrations to “Nicholas Nickleby”. and scanned them today.
Keeping depicts such movement in ‘The animals were no sooner released than they trotted back to the stable they had just left’.
‘A female bounced into the room, and seizing Mr Squeers by the throat gave him two loud kisses’. When repeated further in the book these portraits will be most recognisable.
The three boys in the foreground of ‘Mrs Squeers stood at one of the desks, presiding over an immense basin of brimstone and treacle’ are recent arrivals. Keeping shows by the chubby, innocent, profile of one that they have not yet adopted the description, including the harelip, Charles Dickens gives to the others. The mixture of sulphur and molasses was commonly used as a cure-all at the time. Here it was mainly employed as an appetite suppressant.
‘When they were both touched up to their entire satisfaction, they went down-stairs in full state’
‘The timid country girl shrunk through the crowd that hurried up and down the streets, clinging closely to Ralph’ displays the artist’s mastery of perspective.
‘They stopped in front of a large old dingy house that appeared to have been uninhabited for years’ displays historically accurate buildings.
‘The poor soul was poring hard over a tattered book with the traces of recent tears still upon his face’ represents the portrait given in the book’s frontispiece.
‘Pinning him by the throat, Nicholas beat the ruffian until he roared for mercy’
‘Dingy, ill-plumed, drowsy flutterers, sent to get a livelihood in the streets’ is one of Mr Keeping’s text sandwiches.
Between showers we prepared a site for the new, as yet unopened, wooden bench.
Later this afternoon we drove to Everton Nurseries where Jackie bought some trailing petunias, and continued into the forest.
where I was tempted from the car by the sight of groups of ponies who had been much more in evidence today than yesterday.
Purple violets beneath a yellow gorse bush; scattered bluebells; and a fossilised hand caught my attention.
I thought I could discern at least two foals in the distance.
To reach them I needed to follow a track across the running stream created by the ponies above.
That reminds me. The pony in the foreground of the first picture in this gallery determinedly emerged in my direction and took up a position with splayed legs right in front of me. It had made me rather nervous. Fortunately missing my feet it released a powerful stream from its rear end. Naturally I lifted my lens enough for decency. This was still creating its own little puddle when its companion did exactly the same thing. Were they trying to tell me something?
This was quite an undulating landscape.
Climbing up to the next level I was rewarded by the sight of two foals.
As its mother wandered away the first of these rose to its feet, stretched its limbs, trotted after her, then felt safe enough to look me in the eye.
On our journey home through East Boldre we encountered a group of donkeys and their foals.
Perhaps attempting to arouse the attention of its comatose mother,
one excited youngster repeatedly ran rings round the gorse bushes, causing Jackie to exclaim: “He’s just found he’s got legs”.
This evening we dined on plump lemon chicken thighs; creamy mashed potatoes; spicy hot ratatouille; and firm cauliflower, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank Trivento Reserve Malbec 2019.
Belying the cold wind which did not lessen until late afternoon, the such shone between fast moving fluffy cotton clouds. A brief garden survey revealed a few broken plant stems and one smashed owl. We decided to return to the clearance work tomorrow, and go out for a drive after lunch.
Martin from Crestwood flooring visited this morning to take measurements for our next refurbishment project. I then began drafting Danni’s guest post, ‘Ella And The Bin Men’ which I posted before we went out.
We began our trip at Milford on Sea where the waves were very choppy and the wind,
against which Jackie photographed me battling, blustering fiercely.
While the Assistant Photographer was intent on catching me with gulls, I aimed to catch them frolicking on the thermals,
after which they would bask and blink in the warmth of the car park tarmac.
Across the Solent the cliffs of the Isle of Wight were in clear view, and gorse on our side tumbled down the ever-eroding cliffs beneath which painted beech huts nestled.
Small groups walked along the promenade and couples played bowls.
Just as we were leaving, Jackie photographed an oil rig far out to sea.
We turned inland and drove past roofers at perilous work along Barton Court Road.
On the Norley Wood end of Burley Road a garden encampment seemed to have taken a buffeting.
I disembarked at Braggers Lane to focus on
landscapes on both sides.
Gnarly shadows sprawled along the verges; a recently ripped branch stretched across the sward.
Riding horses occupying a field on my left still wore rugs during this period when the night temperatures are still close to zero centigrade.
Cattle on the other side lay down in a line, keeping the grass warm.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s hot and spicy lamb jalfrezi and pilau rice with which I drank more of the Fleurie. These pots contain enough for a good five meals.
Late yesterday afternoon we were both too knackered to clear up and put our tools away. The good news about today’s weather forecast is that we will be enjoying steady rain; the bad is that this will come with 60 miles per hour wind by the evening. This meant that we had to be out early this morning making our usual preparations in addition to the said clearing up.
We emptied trugs (WP you’ve got drugs on the brain) containing compostable material and buckets of alliums for bagging separately.
The trugs were then overturned to prevent their being filled with water.
Chairs were laid down gently before the wind did it ferociously.
If you biggify this second image of the scene, and examine the owl’s head you should see Where’s Nugget Junior? (2). While he was interested in what was going on he was not inclined to come any closer.
Paths were swept and hoed.
Beautiful as they are, the Weeping Birch Bed is just one that reminds us we will need to be back on the case soon enough.
Although the wind increased in ferocity we received no rain until early this evening.
Later this afternoon we drove to Keyhaven in search of windsurfers. We found none and therefore turned inland.
The rape fields off Sowley Lane are coming along well, and the oaks beginning to come into leaf.
Ponies grazed on the road ro Burley.
Cattle, blending into the landscape, foraged at East Boldre,
where some of the stumps and fallen trees have been around long enough to host lichen and frame violets.
A number of the roads in the New Forest area have been resurfaced. One of these arrives at the green sited where South Baddesley Road begins. Clearly a troop of donkeys has been engaged to maintain the grass in keeping.
Many of our English bluebells have been replaced or hybridised by Spanish imports. We have all three in our garden, but a number of our woods still contain our home grown variety. The first image in this gallery is alongside Sowley Lane; the rest along South Baddesley Road.
This evening we dined on oven fish and chips, baked beans, pickled onions, and cornichons, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Fleurie.
After a light overnight frost this morning was sunshine-bright and somewhat chilly. I reached Florence at Fiveways in my weeding of the gravelled Gazebo Path,
while Jackie sat on her kneeling stool to continue her clearance of the Pond Bed.
Immediately after lunch we toured garden centres in search of a strong wooden bench to replace the Ace Reclaim bench which has rusted enough to become precarious to perch upon. Here we were to find evidence of reports that wooden furniture is in short supply because of Covid and Brexit import difficulties. Eventually we found one at Stewart’s outside Christchurch. This will be delivered tomorrow.
We diverted around the forest on our return home.
We were tempted by the fickle sun to stop and admire the gorse- and pony-dotted moorland from the high point of Burley Road outside Norley Wood. As soon as I left the car gloomy clouds rolled in and the sun was not to be seen again until we returned home.
However, a thirsty grey pony stood up to her knees in cold soup at the usual watering hole.
Once satisfied she departed the pool, and, hearing whinnying from beyond the gorse bushes, set off along a well trodden track leading to a circle of open grass, in answer to the call of a companionable bay.
Naturally I followed, if only to let the drinker know there was no escape from my lens.
Along the woodland trail I noticed crab apple blossom in abundance and a child’s solitary lost shoe.
We stopped for a drink at The Rising Sun and sat in the garden chatting and listening to other muted voices, melodious birdsong, inharmonious pop music from inside, and vehicles clattering over the cattle grid outside.
This evening we reprised yesterday’s meal with identical beverages.
Today the weather was sun-bright-clear-chilly-cold.
We began by purchasing vegetables at Ferndene Farm Shop, then drove into the forest by way of
Beckley Common Road where Jackie parked, a jogger passed, and I pictured
the surrounding woodland where the harsh squawking of disturbed pheasants interrupted the melodic birdsong.
The next parking spot was a lay-by off the A35 where gorse bushes balls emulated stationary tumbleweed.
My next disembarkation was beside Lyndhurst Road where no discordant notes clashed with the avian melodies.
A friendly gentleman led a rope-tacked pony past the resting Modus while I photographed
more woodland and its reflecting stream.
I was surprised to see several euphorbia plants accompanying the primroses, celandines, and violets dotted among last year’s leaves carpeting the forest floor.
Along a side track leading to several private properties a number of large trees had fallen recently, and someone had lit a fire between two smaller trees, burning off some of the bark.
Showing signs of shedding their winter coats, ponies on Mill Lawn and the verges of Mill Lane tucked into their all day breakfasts.
Others trooped across Bisterne Close to sample something more prickly. A pair of cyclists stopped to take photographs. New Forest drivers are encouraged to display stickers stating “I go slow for ponies”. The animals crossing here make their requests on the tarmac.
For dinner this evening Jackie produced some of her thick, wholesome, chicken stewp with fresh crusty bread and we enjoyed eating it with, in her case, Hoegaarden, and in mine, more of the Bordeaux.
This post was written yesterday, and I forgot to send it.
This morning we visited Maidenhead Aquatics where Jackie purchased
a replacement pump for the Waterboy feature which she fitted this afternoon.
Stewarts Garden Centre is nearby, so she was compelled to forage for plants in there while I watched
the Koi carp in their pool outside the aquatics supplier. They really do look like prehistoric monsters from the deep.
We took a pretty route back home.
I disembarked at the top of Burley Road in order to take in the gorse laden landscape dotted with ponies.
Just one pony had the energy to graze the woodland beside Bisterne Close;
Others lolled about in the unaccustomed warm sunshine.
White wood anemones accompanied vivid violets, dried autumn leaves, golden celandines, and half buried fallen branches on the forest floor.
This evening we dined on Mr Chan’s excellent Hordle Chinese Take Away fare, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Côtes du Rhône.
Today there was still a chill in the air, which became more overcast with sunny periods as it went on.
After lunch we drove into the forest. As so often on a dull day we thought we may not find much of photographic interest, until the sun and
our little group of equine friends found beside the stream at the junction of Chapel Lane and Forest Road took pity on us.
The rippling stream bore reflections;
The trees through which the assorted ponies could be viewed bore moss and lichen;
the ground underfoot bore celandines, dandelions, violets, and daisies.
More reflections and water crowfoot (buttercups) adorned the pool further along Forest Road, beyond which
I gazed across the layered landscape.
This evening we enjoyed breaded mushrooms with Jackie’s hot and spicy pasta arrabbiata and tender runner beans, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I partook of Mendoza El Tesoro Red Blend 2019.
After an early lunch Jackie drove me to The Grove Pharmacy at Christchurch for my second Covid vaccination. My appointment was for 1.00 p.m. We arrived at 12.30. I was back in the car at 12.46.
We returned home via Avon where I photographed two landscapes. The water meadows in the first are now very dry.
I have paolsoren to thank for an agility being one collective noun for goats. Not far from these landscapes we stopped in a lay-by to photograph a field full of goats and
a multitude of young kids running around; practising head butting; squaring up like smiling assassins; climbing on logs and tables; and generally demonstrating agility – even the creature butted off the table landed safely. As Jackie pointed out, the mothers just left their offspring to get on with the fun.
Pheasants wandered about roads and fields, like these in Anna Lane.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s spicy hot pasta arrabbiata with tender runner beans. The Culinary Queen drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Malbec.
This afternoon of an overcast day, slowly brightening with brief sunny periods we visited Ferndene Farm Shop to purchase salad items, eggs, and vegetables to accompany this evening’s second sitting of Jackie’s excellent cottage pie. These were carrots, cauliflower, and beans which would be cooked to perfection, and accompanied by Hoegaarden and more of the Malbec, consumed by the usual suspects.
Before we could properly leave Downton, we followed a pleasant equestrienne pair to Silver Street and a couple of defensive cyclists ensuring we could not safely pass them along Vaggs Lane.
Jackie parked at Smugglers Road Car Park from where I wandered among the woodland photographing bracken, gorse, landscape, and the the gently overcast sky.
As requested, I kept to the main tracks, created by ponies. The amount of dog shit littered about suggested that some dog owners had also done so. As we were about to leave, two people, each with a pair of dogs, neither carrying poop bags set off to empty their animals. The man’s charges were immediately let off the lead.
Earlier, a pair of goldfinches had sought camouflage among the gorse.
While she waited, Jackie produced her own images of gorse.
On our departure, another pair of equestriennes gently ambled up the slopes.
At least the person emptying their dog at Abbots Well had the questionable decency to leave the results of the defecation in a poop bag, which did not faze the grazing pony.
Here, the clouds were parting a little more as I looked down on the landscape from the bordering woodland with its fallen trees, mossy roots, and little dog-tooth violets.
The aforementioned delicious dinner nicely rounded off the day.
