Tag: MADS

Shopping

I took a short walk, just over a mile each way, to the village shop this morning.  I reserved a copy of The Independent for next Tuesday 27th, which is a Mordred (see 12th July) day.  I also picked up a couple of credit card sized cards displaying the New Forest Animal Emergency Hotlines.  ‘It is the law’ that you must report not only accidents to, but also sightings of sick or injured ponies, cows, donkeys, dogs, pigs or sheep.  ‘Forest animals have no road sense and have right of way’.

Rain was steady, and persisted throughout the day.  Pools in the forest were larger.  Water ran down Running Hill, which we have learned is the name of the road that abuts our Lower Drive.  There were sections it was best to avoid when cars, even with the drivers slowing their vehicles down, were passing.  Apparently the winds I experienced two days ago on Westminster Bridge reached force 10 in the Solent that night.  Another shop customer told me her shed had blown down. I remembered that yesterday’s Gardeners’ Question Time on BBC Radio 4 featured questions about the effects , both positive and negative, on plants of the weather in this exceedingly wet year.  Apparently mulch is rich and delicious, and shrubs that like water are flourishing.

We visited Elizabeth this afternoon and accompanied her to two shops in Portswood. On the way we returned to the village shop and bought some New Forest Blue cheese for her.  The first of the two shops we visited together was for her to investigate some possible furniture in Amber Antiques; the second for us to investigate International Stores as a source of spices for my curries.  The outcome was not quite as expected.  Elizabeth left Amber Antiques empty handed, and we bought a dining table and six chairs, a 1930s repro from an earlier age.  Those were the days when reproduction furniture was as well made as the originals.  Not normally being emotionally equipped for haggling, I managed to impress Jackie by getting 10% off the cost and free delivery.  The name Amber Antiques made me think of Acorn Antiques and Mrs. Overall.  The so named shop was the situation of a Victoria Wood mini-series.  Mrs.Overall was the cleaner beautifully played by Julie Walters.  ‘Dish of the Day’, the play we had watched in Minstead Hall a week ago featured a ‘waitress’ who I had whispered to Jackie reminded me of Mrs. Overall.  The key comic plot of the play was that this character, who was in fact running the restaurant, being the only staff member there, was in reality the cleaner.  The amateur actress had done a marvellous job of modelling herself on one of our most popular actresses.  I first became aware of Julie Walters opposite Michael Caine in the excellent film ‘Educating Rita’.  Incidentally, I believe the only time Maurice Micklewhite ever said ‘not a lot of people know that’, was in a drunken scene from that film.  Given that that is the catch-phrase of almost anyone who tries to impersonate him, I do hope it was an ad-lib.

I was delighted last year in Issigeac in the Dordogne, to see my friend Andie Kendrick in the role of Rita in MADS production of ‘Educating Rita’.  Andie was made for the part and the part made for Andie.  It was hard to believe she was so comparatively new to amateur dramatics.  Roger Munns did a good job with the lighting, and Judith of directing.

Back to the shopping trip.  International Stores turned out to be just the job.  Everything needed for a curry was there.  Indeed, almost every nationality is represented in this vast emporium.  This is so different from the International Stores of the 1970s, the last incarnation of which was Somerfield.  Somerfield in Edgware Road two or three years ago did, however, have an ‘ethnic aisle’.  It was Elizabeth who did more of the shopping this time, as I am wary of buying spices too far in advance of their use because they tend to lose their flavour if you do.  Mind you, I do have some dried fenugreek leaves which refuse to free the spice rack from their aroma after at least five years.  And it may be some time before I make another curry.  Jackie, you see, has laid claim to the kitchen.  Well, there is always the Boxing Day turkey.

Tonight Jackie drank Montpierre Reserve Sauvignon Blanc 2011 whist I imbibed Piccini Chianti Reserva 2009.  We also ate her excellent chilli con carne (recipe) and delicious bread and butter pudding.

Keeping up with Judith

On Saturday my pool of Friends to Bank on (25th. July), as I knew it would, increased by two.  Maggie offered to cash me a cheque, and Sandrine insisted I pay for all trips with one at the end of my stay.

Yesterday morning I finished the delightful ‘Wodehouse at the Wicket’, edited by Murray Hedgcock.  This consists of a brief biography of P.G.Wodehouse the cricketer, and a collection of his writings on the subject.  Whilst I found the poetry rather weak, I enjoyed the great humorist’s prose, which also managed to make tales of our national game exciting.  The book was one of two given to me by Steve at my 70th. birthday party (see 1st. July).  In the evening I began the other, ‘The Best Views from the Boundary’, compiled by Peter Baxter.  My friend had chosen considerately and well.

Backlit thistles 7.12

This was the long awaited day of the walk with Judith.  Roger dropped her off at No. 6 on the dot of 10 a.m.  She arrived in suitable walking gear carrying a backpack.  As we set off past Le Code Bar and up the Eymet road, aiming for the Munns’ home in Razac d’Eymet, Judith asked me if I liked to walk at a brisk pace.  Playing the arrogant male ex-marathon runner, conveniently forgetting my age and comparatively new left hip, ‘Yes, I do’, I rashly replied. ‘But I’m happy to walk at whatever pace you do’.  Judith quietly stepped it out up the slope past the retirement homes, and I knew I’d got a job on.  Up and down the hills at a steady scary stride she led me across the D933, or was it 993?, through St. Julien, pointing out the home of Mary and Robin who would be joining us for lunch.

There is a truism in distance running that states: ‘If you can’t talk, you are going too fast’.  Well, I managed to converse.  Just.  Actually we chatted throughout the journey,  only pausing to take sips of water on the move.  One discussion we had concerned the potential menace of loose dogs for walkers and runners alike.  Judith had received a considerable fright a couple of days ago when she had been surrounded by snarling, menacing canines whose owner, ignoring my friend’s plight, was calmly chatting to someone getting into a car.  Quite unconcerned, he eventually called them off.  Years ago, whilst running, I had had a similar experience with two Rhodesian ridgebacks.  Their owner was nowhere to be seen.  For me, there had been nothing for it but to knock on the door of the house from which they had escaped.  I hoped they wouldn’t savage me for invading their territory.  ‘They shouldn’t be out’, said the woman who answered the door.  ‘Too right’, said I.

Returning to the present, ‘I might stop to take occasional photographs’, I said.  ‘That’s fine’, my companion replied.  Even that respite was denied me.  I had forgotten my camera.  My bag contained nothing but water, wine, and a book I was returning to Keith.  Gutted.  This was a very pleasant morning with some beautiful scenes in view.  Not that I had much chance to look around me, as I concentrated on keeping abreast of Judith, and ensuring I was not reduced to watching her heels.  As we approached St. Julien, Judith pointed out the incongruity of the church tower, recently painted an excessively bright burnt sienna.  Perhaps it will weather in.

When we arrived at Razac, and Judith pointed out her home, still in the distance, I knew the end was in sight.  On entering, I sat down pretty sharpish.  In the characterful home she and Roger are building to her design, we were to be joined for lunch by the couple mentioned earlier, and other friends, Andie and Keith.  Andie had made an excellent Rita in the MADS production of ‘Educating Rita’ at Issegeac last year.  Roger’s mother is now in residence.  She looked fresh, in a pretty dress with an attractive coiffure created by a domiciliary hairdresser.

Not only had Judith set off early for the walk, she had prepared an excellent tradional roast lamb Sunday lunch, which she completed as soon as she got back, taking time out to wash and change into an attractive long dress.  I, on the other hand, not having brought a change of clothes, dried out in the sunshine.  My claim that Judith had ‘knackered me’ caused some amusement.  The alfresco meal was convivial fun, and we all tried our skill with Roger’s catapult.  Late in the afternoon, as the party disbanded, Robin and Mary drove me home.

Before going to bed I watched Stanley Kubrick’s ‘Full Metal Jacket’, an unrelentingly harrowing portrayal of military training and the exercise of the purpose for which it is intended.  Brilliant, if you can sit through it.