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This morning a couple of administrative problems fell into place. Although I couldn’t get through to Lymington Hospital on the subject of my ophthalmic appointment, my GP’s secretary managed to confirm that the date for later this month still stands. I also received a new contract and a bill for the last five months electricity supply from British Gas. I still needed to phone them to clarify the figures which seemed to be at odds with the contract. I paid the amount shown.
Despite the day being overcast, we went for a drive in the forest.
Very early blooming daffodils had pierced the sward on a green outside Winkton.
Low grunts and high-pitched squeals alerted us to an extensive pig farm alongside
the frighteningly narrow and winding Anna Lane,
on the other side of which lay a field of muted stubble.
Much of the roadside land at North Gorley – and elsewhere – was waterlogged and nurturing pondweed.
Hyde Lane outside Ringwood is home to a fascinating old barn that is probably not as ancient as it looks. To my mind its structure simply follows the timbering and brickwork of several centuries earlier. But then, I am no expert.
Further down the lane sheep grazed in a field.
A flash of green before she landed on the hedge surrounding the pasturage suggested to us that we were observing a female greenfinch. If you can spot it, do you think we are right?
In Ringwood where I purchased some paper and batteries from Wessex photographic, and we lunched at the excellent Aroma café.
Outside The Fighting Cocks pub at Godshill, we noted that the total for animal casualties in 2017 was 120.
A few yards further on, we encountered a nonchalant pony making its leisurely way towards us.
Others crossed the road at will. The headlights of the car on the hill demonstrate how murky was the afternoon.
We stopped for me to photograph this effect from the top of Deadman Hill.
I crossed to the other side of the road and experienced a pulsating, thudding, reverberation, emanating from the turf. Suddenly a string of very frisky ponies came tearing up the slope and into sight. Now, these animals are very rarely seen on the move, as they spend their days dozing and eating grass. I don’t mind admitting I was a little disconcerted. I didn’t really want a hoof with all the tonnage it supports landing on my foot.
It was something of a relief when the leader came to a standstill and calmly surveyed the valley below.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s choice chicken and black bean sauce with vegetable won ton starters. The Culinary Queen drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Malbec.
