Abbotswell Picnic

On this temperate morning we drove into the forest and picnicked

looking down at distant ponies and cattle in the view from the heights of Abbottswell.

A pony and foal were at home on the moorland beside Holmsley Passage.

Although no rain fell today

many roads were awash after the heavy overnight rain. Vehicles drove through pools at Stuckton, and the ford at Frogham harboured a swift-flowing stream.

This horse-drawn trap must have avoided the roadwater at Stuckton.

Deer dotting the slopes of Blissford Hill appeared to feel happily safe. This gallery is mine; the next

is Jackie’s showing the landscape including the deer and a garden.

The Assistant Photographer also pictured a lone thrush, a trio of hares,

and at North Gorley the same number of donkeys.

Needing to find a local Indian takeaway to replace Red Chilli, we chose to dine this evening at Rokali’s in Ashley in order to check out the food. This turned out to be good decision.

The atmosphere and service was very friendly, the food well cooked and plentiful – in fact ordering both onion bahjis and paratha was a dish too far for us.

We were early enough for Jackie to take interior photographs without worrying about privacy.

Here is the bar and the menu wallet.

We always make the paratha test when visiting a new restaurant. Rokali’s passed this. Real roses embellished each table.

Our shared special rice , onion bahjis, paratha, and salad were all very good. Chutneys were left with us. Shiny perspex studs decorated the chairs.

Jackie enjoyed her steaming ponir shaslick, as did I my prawn Bengal, although the photograph was not in focus. She drank Diet Coke and I drank alcohol free Kingfisher.

We were treated to the music of Bollywood emanating from the kitchen radio.

My Little Snipper

Today was one allegedly expected to enjoy intermittent sunshine. In reality this was more intermittent than sunshine.

We were conned by a bright start into taking an early drive to Puttles Bridge. In the event this was definitely intermittent.

Three-way traffic lights control gave me plenty of time to contemplate the verges on the side of the A337.

Watching a foal trot purposely across the low-flowering sward at the corner of Rhinefield and Meerut Roads at Brockenhurst I was surprised to see it latch onto a mare of rather different colouring. Equine genes in our neighbourhood seem to follow quite random routes.

P.S. I have received this very useful information from our good friend Carole: ‘Hi Derrick – couldn’t resist a little further equine info – ref your blog! In your pic, the foal is a pale chestnutty colour suckling from a slate grey coloured mother. Baby will end up grey too, and the older the adult, the whiter they gradually become. So you get the lovely dapple grey  look at around the age of 8-9 years old, gradually fading. I had 2 Arab horses. The first was born bay (brown body, black mane & tail) & the second was born chestnut (tail same colour as body more or less). In both instances Mum was grey. Both babies became grey as they grew to be 2-3 years old. Very dark grey at first, the bay baby had a slate grey mane & tail even when her body colour got paler & the chestnut foal had a white mane & tail as an adult. So not surprising you were surprised! Glad you had a good birthday! Xx’

She followed this with: ‘Three photos of my Tammy – as a foal, a young adult and a 10!year old – starts a chestnut, becomes dappled, ends up white xx’

The terrain alongside the shallow, clear, yet treacly, bubbling burbling, rippling, fast flowing, Ober Water was mostly fairly soggy and gathering reflecting pools, although beside the well-drained banks exposed lacy-veined roots writhed around water-eroded soil.

Aided by the recent winds, rose Doris Tysterman has stretched herself across the drive. Later this afternoon we righted her and tied her to one of our old stumps. I dug out three brambles while we were at it.

The pocket dead heading tool Shelly gave me yesterday came in handy. There are many more examples of this piece of equipment on Google.

This evening we dined on spicy Thai fish cakes garnished with onion rings; piquant cauliflower cheese; boiled new potatoes; crunchy carrots; and tender runner beans, with which Jackie finished the Rosé d’Anjou and I started the very smooth Signargues Cotes du Rhone Villages 2020, which Shelly had also brought yesterday.