Ramblings
Knowing that our favourite location for English bluebells would likely be in bloom today Jackie drove me out to Church Lane, Boldre.
Fortunately, I was well wrapped up against the bitter, biting, North wind that belied the bright sunshine.
A mallard sunned itself on a tussock in Pilley lake.
A troop of ponies played chicken across the road to Beulieu.
Back at Boldre Jackie photographed a few somnolent donkeys.
This evening we all dined on more of Jackie’s penne Bolognese meal.
Encouraged by Klausbernd of Fab Four Blog, I began to read Sigrid Undset’s novel “Kristin Lavransdatter”. I am already grateful to him for his recommendation. Later this morning Jackie and I took a forest drive before lunch.
Butter-golden gorse had benefitted from the recent days of rains and occasional sunshine.
Although today was rain-free strong winds rippled across reflecting pools along the roadsides, the fields, and the moors.
When Jackie pulled to the side of Braggers Lane opposite the third string of pools in the gallery above in order to enable an oncoming vehicle to pass she didn’t notice this pothole, but left her tyre tracks as we bounced out of it.
This grey pony’s legs have taken on the tinge of the wet terrain of Wilverley Road.
When this cyclist had scaled the hill against a strong wind, I gave him a thumbs up and congratulated him.
these two held up the car in front of us until the road leaving Burley was clear enough for him to pass and we were able to follow.
Others enjoyed foraging in the woodland alongside Charles’s Lane,
where I enjoyed pleasant conversations with equestriennes I had heard clopping along to the tune of bright birdsong.
The reason Jackie had parked beside this lane was to send me back along the road to photograph Fungus she had spotted in passing. I had misunderstood, thinking it was on the verge rather than on the tree. While I was searching she came along and pointed it out to me. Concentrating on the longer shots of the broken tree I had not realised that I had unwittingly already photographed my target.
This evening we all dined on pork spare ribs marinaded in hoisin sauce on a bed of Jackie’s colourful vegetable rice with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Malbec.
2nd April 2024
We were without internet all day until 3rd. Becky struggled hard with it, and early that day Nick from Peacock Computers visited to solve the problem.
I saved a few pictures from our forest drive of 2nd.
We enjoyed banks of primroses, dandelions, celandines, daffodils and muscari.
The decorated post box on Pilley Hill now celebrates Easter.
Peaceful ponies wandered around the village verges.
This evening we all dined on Jackie’s lamb cobbler with carrots, cauliflower, broccoli and meaty gravy, with which she, Becky, and Ian, all drank Oxford Landing Sauvignon Blanc 2023; I drank Patrick Chodot Fleuri 2022.
On a cool, drier, afternoon of intermittent sunshine Jackie and I took a forest drive to the east of the forest.
Ditches along Sowley Lane were filled with clear water reflecting clusters of primroses on the sloping banks. The first pair of the images in this gallery are mine; the second, Jackie’s.
Pheasants squawked raspingly in the adjacent fields, occasionally dicing with death along the road and the verges. Jackie’s is the fourth photograph in this set.
Our familiar equine group were still present here.
Oilseed rape now covers the fields alongside this lane and
St Leonard’s Road, still bearing burgeoning blackthorn bushes,
above which gnarled naked oaks brushed scudding cotton clouds permitting patches of blue to peek through.
Later, I watched the Women’s Six Nations rugby match between Italy and England.
This evening we all dined on spicy, salt and pepper, and tempura prawn preparations; Jackie’s colourful savoury rice; duck spring rolls; and a mix of runner and green beans, and mange touts, with which I drank Reserva Privado Chilean Malbec 2022.
Given that we understood that this morning’s chill wind and cold bright sunshine was likely to cede to strong showers for the rest of the day, we set off for a forest drive just after 8 a.m. and turned on the windscreen wipers in a darkened air two hours later as we were driving home.
Groups of ponies gathered around Smuggler’s Road Car Park basking and reflecting in the sunlight,
which brightened the sand pit in the Rockford Common landscape. The stream at Ibsley ford rippled past a recently broken tree on its banks, where blossom bejewelled a shadow-striated wall.
Further along the road donkeys wandered freely along the tarmac.
The sharp wind swivelled a weather vane seen between two houses.
At the bottom of Frogham Hill we encountered our first donkey mother and foal,
somewhat older than its cousins seen at the top, which according to a resident I engaged in conversation, were just a week old..
Someone had categorised potholes at a road junction in Crow,
This afternoon I watched the Women’s Six Nations rugby matches between France and Ireland and between Scotland and Wales.
This evening we all dined on Jackie’s flavoursome savoury rice and spare ribs in hoisin sauce, with which I drank more of the Shiraz.
On a grey but dry morning of intermittent sunshine Jackie and I shopped at Ferndene Farm Shop, then brunched at Lakes View Café before taking a forest drive.
The verge fronting the shop’s chicken fields accommodating a ditch is decorated with daffodils bowed by raindrops.
A few ponies grazed the landscape alongside Holmsley Passage
on which an equestrienne group rode among the potholes pictured yesterday, where
Jackie photographed an elf’s lost hat draped on a post.
Later we saw them, all unscathed, gathering on the moorland.
Still shaggy ponies foraged alongside Wootton Road, where,
the post box still celebrates St Patrick’s Day.
This evening we all dined on meaty Ferndene Pork Sausages; creamy mashed potatoes of white and sweet variety; crunchy carrots; firm cauliflower; and tender broccoli stems with which Jackie, Ian , and Dillon drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of La P’tite Piérre.
With very few raindrops adding to yesterday’s deluge contribution on the roads, on the moors, and on the woodlands, despite the welcome sunshine, the gale force winds picking up made the temperature feel far more than the alleged seven degrees centigrade as we splashed out on an early forest drive.
It was round the corner into Hordle Lane that we first encountered tarmac awash with pools.
Having negotiated the Woodcock Lane junction, turning right into Silver Street,
Jackie deviated across the road into Agars Lane with its ancient high banked verges, where she was able to park giving me a good vantage
point for photographing vehicles spraying precipitation into the air.
After Barrows Lane reflecting the Parcel Force delivery van’s splash of colour I decided to focus on other scenes.
This meant a visit to Boundway Hill where we parked beside broken
limbs from an ancient oak tree that must have suffered the damage not too long ago.
Knowing that a fine woodland landscape would reward the effort, with some trepidation I ventured
down the soggy footpath towards
the welcome sight.
The surrounding woodland and its verges bore their share of reflecting pools.
On the way down to Brockenhurst, beside a gravelled road linking with the adjacent tarmac forming deep potholes,
foraged three ponies,
one sporting an erstwhile fashionable beard.
We hadn’t brunched at The Potting Shed in Redcliffe Garden Centre since before Covid and knee replacements, and thought it time to try it again. It is as good as ever, having had a tasteful makeover without changing its essential country garden character.
This popular venue was as packed as we always remembered it, which means that, in order to respect privacy I had to focus on one corner only when its occupants had left and before replacements had arrived.
In the top left hand corner of these two images appears an invitation to book a vintage tea party, no doubt served on the crockery displayed in the dresser.
The wood burning stove is protected by a fire guard with clear warnings.
Beautifully drawn decorations and artefacts decorate all the walls, and
very apt quotations are painted on the ceilings.
Many of my readers will agree with this one by Cicero.
Service was amazingly fast, efficient, and friendly. I was particularly impressed with how quickly, cleanly, and tidily vacated tables were cleared ready for the next customers, although no-one was rushed.
Jackie’s egg mayonnaise sandwich, served with fresh salad and crisps was well filled and moist;
My ham, double egg, and chips, was equally perfect, with eggs served sunny side up and soft enough to dip well browned chips.
This evening we all dined on haddock cheese-centred fish cakes; Jackie’s piquant cauliflower cheese; crunchy carrots; green peas, and white and sweet potato mash, with which The Culinary Queen drank Hoegaarden and I finished the fitou.
With the weather milder and drier, after a brief splash through the streets of the New Forest, Jackie and I enjoyed another excellent lunch at Camellia’s restaurant in Everton Nursery.
Primroses, like these on a Boldre bank, are now appearing everywhere.
Many streets like these at Pilley still bear pools that most drivers would prefer to avoid;
greens there also provide mirrors for ponies,
some of whom find damp grass to lie on.
We were slow enough entering Lymington for me to snatch this shot through the windscreen.
Becky and Ian returned home to Southbourne this afternoon, and were therefore unable to partake of this evening’s sustenance consisting of our usual variety of prawn preparations and Jackie’s savoury rice with which she drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Nero d’Avala
Today’s brighter and dry morning greyed over during our afternoon forest drive, as the rain set in again.
Swans and gulls took advantage of the swollen pond on Hatchet Moor. The last two swans and the gull in this gallery are Jackie’s work.
Coots foraged on the bank.
Mallards occupied this reflecting pool at East Boldre. The last of this set is Jackie’s.
She also produced these images of the reflected lichen covered branch and last year’s blackberries, while I focussed on
ponies among burnt bracken.
This evening we all dined on Jackie’s penne Bolognaise sprinkled with Parmesan cheese; she drank more of the Malvasia and I finished the Shiraz.
After another enjoyable and positive chiropractic session with Eloise it was decided that my next appointment could be in two weeks time.
We then deposited four waistcoats and a jacket with White’s dry cleaners in New Milton, afterwards visiting the very friendly, helpful, and efficient Robert Allan, jewellers.
Even I have three devices which, adjusting for break in service, changes in time zones, and British Summer Time six monthly tinkering, automatically display the time of day the minute the screen has been switched on.
So why do I need watches?
First, because I am of an era before digital technology and have always looked at my wrist to tell the time – even when I am not wearing a ticking dial strapped there.
Second, because each of my wrist watches and my one fob watch have emotional significance for me. It will be ten years in October
since my brother Chris bequeathed me his fob watch presented to me in a box of her own making at his funeral.
Possibly 30 years ago, having been sent to walk around Oxford Circus for forty minutes in order to let eye drops settle after an optometrist’s examination at Dollond and Aitchison, I spotted a closing down sale at a jeweller’s which is now a Shelly shoe shop. In the window, at half price, was my
Longines battery operated chronometer which has kept time to the second ever since, unless it runs out of battery. Incidentally, when the optometrist told me there was no change in my sight, I asked why, then, could I see very little in my left eye? This prompted the check. The reason for the deterioration was the result of damage incurred by a cricket ball when I was 14.
Finally, when I retired in 2010 our friend Jessie gave me my kinetic Tissot watch, again a perfect timekeeper, which is beginning to need extra winding.
Within twenty minutes Robert Allan had replaced the batteries and told me that the winder could be operated manually.
We then lunched at Camellia’s restaurant in Everton Garden Nurseries, where we enjoyed excellent, perfectly cooked meals, at very reasonable prices. We joined a fast moving queue where we could see trays of all the meals being presented, making for simple choices. Friendly service at the till was followed by our food being brought to our table by equally pleasant waitresses. The wait was not long, especially considering how fresh the cooking was.
As has become customary, Jackie made these internal photographs
of the outlet itself, making sure not to include any of the customers in the extensively packed dining area;
of the menu and the specials board;
of the splendid cake displays, and the free bottles of water,
and, of course, our meals – her warm panini with tuna, cheese, and onion stuffing, fresh salad and crisps –
and my tender steak in red wine casserole with freshly cooked vegetables.
After lunch we took a trip to the east of the forest where we
encountered damp ponies at East Boldre, but not much else worth photographing.
The header picture is to make Ian wish he were here.
This evening we all dined on pork spare ribs in barbecue sauce and Jackie’s colourful savoury rice with which she drank Reserva Privada Chilean Rosé Cuvée 2021 and I drank Mighty Murray Shiraz.