Just Too Short

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I took a couple of strolls around the garden with a camera this morning. Sculpture Florence turned her back on the early light streaming from the Rose Garden.

Overnight rain had refreshed fuchsias, geraniums, hydrangeas, and dahlias, in one of which

a bedraggled bee risked drowning.

Our red hot pokers are over now, but other kniphofias of more autumnal hues stand erect in the Weeping Birch and other beds.

White solanum continues to drape itself over the dead tree beside the New Bed.

Spiders lurk everywhere. Look closely at the close-up of the hanging basket at the corner of the Phantom Path.

This afternoon Jackie drove me into the forest.

Along the Rhinefield Road a rather young foal foraged far from his parent who looked to be away in the distance.

A little further along a forest sprite impersonated the upper section of a dead tree escaping the clutches of its parent body.

Along the Rhinefield Ornamental Drive dry layers of fallen leaves and pine cones offered a spring to my step and to those of a lone walker. A carved cone marked a route.

Passing the trough on Wootton Common we noticed that it was surrounded by cattle vying for a drink. By the time we had turned round to park the car near the animals, they were all trooping off along the moor.

Ah, not quite all. Just one diminutive creature had been left behind. In vain did this Marshmallow cow, time and again, circle the trough attempting to slake her thirst. Even her neck was just too short. Eventually she hit on a super wheeze. She tried the human spout. I wonder if the next two-legged drinkers will have any idea about who had preceded them.

This evening the three of dined on Jackie’s roast beef; Yorkshire pudding; pigs in blankets; roast potatoes, sweet and normal; crunchy carrots, tender runner beans; and gravy solid with onions and mushrooms. Elizabeth and I drank La vieille ferme 2017, while the Culinary Queen drank Hoegaarden.

 

 

 

Not Exactly A Chair

Over coffee, Jackie and I began the day discussing the detail of the Churchill queue photographs posted yesterday. Even I, who had been there in January 1965, was surprised at what can be revealed by clicking on the images to enlarge them. This prompted me to add a postscript that you may find as fascinating as we found the exercise. Little did I know, when I pressed that shutter, that it would one day be possible to send those pictures and comments on them, for immediate consumption, across the world at the touch of another button.

PrimulasTree barkAfterwards, I extended my gentle amble to the entrance to Roger’s fields. Primulas are now blooming on the verges of Downton Lane, and, on this more overcast day, yesterday’s vibrant tree bark colours have made way for gentle sage greens and silvery greys.Pine cones and Paul

First chatting to Carl in the pub car park, I engaged in a longer conversation with Paul, a very friendly builder living at number 25, who was clipping his hedge. He noticed me photographing a pine branch that had been ripped off and thrown across the other side of the road. He told me it was very unusual for these limbs to be torn from the trees, and that even now it would be very difficult to break off the cones.

Jackie planting primulasPrimulas and snowdrops on Mum R's plotAfter lunch, as today would have been Jackie’s mother’s birthday, we drove to Everton Nurseries where we bought primulas and snowdrops which Jackie planted by her Mum’s plot in Walkford Woodland Burial Ground. Only natural woodland flowers are to be set there. Although the primulas are cultivated, they will, if they survive, soon revert.Mirror

We then moved on to Molly’s Den in search of a chair, and instead came away with a rather attractive bevelled  mirror which we think is probably contemporary with our house.

A rack of pork ribs in barbecue sauce provided our evening sustenance. This was accompanied by Jackie’s savoury rice, this time including and enough finely diced vegetables as to suggest it was an exquisite biriani, and crisp red cabbage stir fry. Jackie drank Peroni, whilst I chose Lidl’s 2012 Bordeaux Superieur.

Max Headroom

On an extremely blustery morning I walked to and from Giles’s home by the Shorefield footpath and Blackbush Road route.

Pine conesMushroomFungiPine cones littered the terrain, and I added to my collection of fungi photos.Footpath with fallen branchFootpath with fallen branch 2

Max Headroom warning signMax HeadroomEminem as Max HeadroomFallen branches along the footpath created arches offering enough overhead clearance to put me in mind of roadsigns; a TV series; and a rapper. The warning signs are posted in order to let drivers of tall vehicles know whether they may pass under bridges and remain intact. According to Wikipedia, ‘Max Headroom is a British-produced American satirical science fiction television series by Chrysalis Visual Programming and Lakeside Productions for Larimar-Telepictures that aired in the United States on ABC from March 1987 to May 1988. The series was based on the Channel 4 British TV pilot produced by Chrysalis, ‘Max Headroom: 20 Minutes into the future’.

Finally, in his music video of November 2013, ‘Rap God’, Eminem posed as Max, the character from the TV series.

MauraMaura long shotWhen I finished that particular rambling, I progressed along the path and met Maura, a pleasant and humorous woman who has been clearing leaves from this thoroughfare for thirty-five years. We spoke for a while, and she encouraged her little dog to pose for my first photograph. As I walked on, she called out to me to take a long shot so that I could feature the leaves she had piled up against the fence.

Now, after this conversation, no-one over a certain age would expect me to refrain from mentioning ‘Beyond Our Ken’, a comedy radio programme that ran from 1958 to 1964. Although the Ken from the title was actually writer and actor Kenneth Horne, it was Kenneth Williams who always delivered the catch phrase ‘thirty-five years’ when asked how long he had been engaged in a particular activity.

Further on, I met Colin, another former marathon runner, with whom I spent about half an hour swapping running stories. Our conversation began when he tripped over a root, an error I had made earlier.  He had run the first London Marathon, watching which had given me the bug. My first such event was the second London one, in which Chris Brasher stopped off for a pint at an East End pub.

Blackbush RoadAlong Blackbush Road, rhododendrons were blooming again. Unfortunately the photograph I took to prove it was out of focus.

I spent an enjoyable hour or so with Giles before returning home for lunch. My friend had bought a box of satsumas at Lidl. He gave me some to take home.

Dinner this evening consisted of tasty fishcakes with Jackie’s piquant cauliflower cheese (recipe), mashed potato, carrots, and runner beans. Dessert was blackberry and apple crumble with custard or clotted cream, according to preference. Retentive readers will know who chose the custard. Jackie drank Stella and I finished the Cuvee St Jaine.