log fire – derrickjknight

The Fleur de Lys, Pilley

We were warmly greeted by Ben at this 11th century pub on Pilley Street, despite the fact that, because they were hosting a wedding this evening, they were not serving full meals this lunchtime. We were offered starters, which was in fact all we needed today.

We were familiar with this excellent venue from our early days in the New Forest. It has, however, had a chequered life since the managers from that period had closed up , leaving the current chef to seek employment elsewhere. Eventually he had set up in Lymington, but returned here last May having learned that the historic building was again available. It was unsurprising to learn that they have been thereafter very busy.

We were the only people customers present. Ben took our order, served me Doom Bar and Jackie Amstell beer and

lit the log fire.

Jackie was free to photograph the interior with its charming accessories.

and ancient paving. The late Queen’s model operates, by solar power, a waving hand.

On that same window sill there is an interesting display of books which our photographer of the day spent a good time enjoying.

I have this one at home in perfect condition with a jacket, so I know its worth.

Oh, yes, the food. Jackie chose the monkfish scampi starter and I chose the sticky slow cooked duck. The complex blends of intricate flavours were delightful. I told the chef we would be back for our mains and desserts.

Jackie left her phone behind. The icing on the cake was that when I phoned to see if it was there the staff were just leaving. They searched and found it and waited behind for the rather more than Assistant Photographer to collect it.

The Siege Of Krishnapur

In the afternoon of this day of steady rainfall Paul and Margery visited to deliver the painting by John Jones that Paul has now framed. We had an enjoyable conversation over tea and mince pies, and are very pleased with both the picture and the framing.

During the rest of the day I finished reading J.G.Farrell’s historical novel ‘The Siege Of Krishnapur’. Originally published by George Weidenfeld and Nicholson 1n 1973, mine is the Folio Society edition of 2008 with an excellent and insightful introduction by Hilary Mantel and evocative illustrations by Francis Mosley.

Without revealing anything of the story I can say that the clearly impeccably and aimlessly researched work takes us into the period of the Raj, its customs, its class divisions, and its beliefs. The pace of the narrative reflects the ebb and flow of action and reflection of such an event. There is dramatic action and there dull, energy-sapping periods. All the senses are so well engaged. Sickness and death are rife. We see how people are revealed in their true colours – some rising to the occasion, others failing or turning it to their own advantage. Barriers between the sexes are broken down.

The boards are embossed with this design by the artist which also runs across the spine.

Mr Mosley, especially with his chosen palette, has captured the essence of the time and place.

As, this evening, we left home to meet Elizabeth at The Wheel Inn, Jackie photographed arboreal fingers reaching for the full moon draped in dramatic clouds.

The staff at the community pub, having reserved a friendly table,

had placed us beside the log fire. Jackie also produced these two photographs.

Elizabeth and I both enjoyed crispy duck with ginger salad starters.

My main course consisted of oven baked hake wrapped in parma ham, lobster sauce, sautéed potatoes and asparagus. The ladies were both delighted with their roast turkey with all the trimmings. Jackie finished with Christmas pudding, and I chose Eton mess. Both were very good. Jackie and Elizabeth both drank Warsteiner and I drank Ringwood’s Best.

Pumpkin Head

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Today I was mostly engaged in boring administration; correspondence in writing and in e-mail; filing; form-filling; and posting.

Rapid rooftop rattling hailed a brief interlude with my camera, as ricocheting crystals created springboards of chairs, tables, paving, and anything else less receptive than soggy soil.

Early this afternoon we drove out to the Turfcutter’s Arms at East Boldre for a pre-dinner drink. In this we were to be disappointed, but every cloud has a silver lining.

Beginning with the building near the corner of Hordle Lane, we engaged in an exploration of September skies. The blue, white, and indigo palette was to change over the next hour.

The skyscape over Lymington River introduced an ochre tinge,

retained at Tanner’s Lane where the Isle of Wight stood out in clear relief,

as did ferries en route to Lymington.

Looking east, Southampton, with its Spinnaker tower was beautifully lit.

Indigo was the dominant hue to the west;

in between the shoreline led through the Solent to the Isle of Wight.

On across the moors towards East Boldre the hues continued to shift with the swirling clouds.

We soon reach our goal.

We had forgotten it was Saturday. When you are retired there is no such thing as a weekend. It was initially clear that the pub was extremely popular, packed out, and with no available seating. Almost immediately, nothing was clear except the glowing pumpkin head in the fireplace. The electricity was down. Although it soon rose again, we decided to call it a day and return home.

It was not yet sunset when we approached Hatchet Pond,

where a pair of, as far as I could make out. coots paddled across the reflected skies.

Sunset was not far off.

This evening we dined on succulent chicken Kiev, Jackie’s moist ratatouille, crisp roast potatoes, cauliflower, carrots, and green beans. Jackie drank Hoegaarden, and I drank more of the Madiran.

A Touch Of Frost

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Early this crisp and bright morning I walked around our sub-zero garden.

Except for this sheltered petunia,

all the plants were now frost damaged;

December haze hovered over the paths;

wood and metal harboured the white precipitation;

and the patio table bore memories of patterns found inside the winter morning bedroom windows of my pre-central heating childhood.

Jackie drove us to The Ship in Wiltshire’s Upavon, for a most enjoyable lunch with Frances.

The small grate, originally designed to take coal, now burned logs.

My choice of meal was fish pie, followed by apple and ginger trifle. Frances also opted for fish pie, while Jackie chose burger and chips. I drank Wadsworth’s 6X. That was our main meal of the day

Having passed Salisbury Cathedral on our return home, we turned off the High Road to look back at the splendid building. The frosted grass of the verges of the lane had seen no sun at all.

On home territory we diverted to Ferndene Farm Shop to buy a Christmas tree, then to Barton on Sea to catch the sunset.

Isle of Wight, The Needles and lighthouse

The eye of The Needles lighthouse glowed white today.

The Leap

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Late in the morning Jackie drove us to Nomansland where we lunched in the Lamb Inn.

Even at midday, ponies on the green outside dined on defrosted food, avoiding the refrigerated options.

In the hostelry, beside a fine log fire, and beneath a display of character jugs, I enjoyed a burger, chips, and Doom Bar beer; while Jackie chose a bacon, brie, and cranberry baguette with coffee.

As we drove away, we passed a rider who led her steed through the gate to her left.

At St Peter’s Church, Bramshaw, the autumn leaves blended well with the groggy lichen-covered gravestones, mostly dating from the eighteenth century. Steep steps lead up the hill from the roadside; there is also a slope to the side, no doubt for those parishioners who cannot climb.

Most of the structure seemed to be Georgian in date, although one stone wall looked older,

and I am not enough of an architectural historian to date this fascinating chimney.

Thinking it unlikely that the Modus would obstruct anyone, Jackie tucked it in beside the church. She was unlucky. Along came a hedge cutting machine.

We paused at Wootton so I could photograph a couple of ponies drinking from a stream. As I raised my camera, one leaped from the water to the bank above.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s luscious liver casserole, crunchy carrots and green beans, with creamy mashed potato. She drank sparkling water and I drank Collin-Bourisset Fleurie 2015.