In the drizzling gloom on the already fading light of late afternoon we drove to Milford on Sea Pharmacy for repeat medication before continuing into the forest.
The decorated post box on Pilley Street now has a Christmas theme.
Further along a small van sprayed some of the pool crossing the road. An oncoming car let this vehicle pass in order to avoid trying the deeper level.
Mallards now own the fully filled and
reflecting lake alongside Jordans Lane.
The thatched Corner Cottage at Norley Wood has an outside decorated Christmas tree.
On our way home the lights decorating the lamp posts on the outskirts of Lymington were coming into their own.
This evening we all dined on Jackie’s savoury rice with tempura and salt and pepper prawn preparations and spring rolls, with which the Culinary Queen finished the white Zinfandel and I drank more of the shiraz
This morning I watched recordings of the Women’s rugby World Cup between Scotland and Australia, and between England and France.
Yesterday’s readers will know of my O2 saga. I did not receive the PAC code today, but I did receive two e-mails featuring a survey seeking to know about my satisfaction. Needless to say the scores were minimal, the questions bore no relevance to my leaving, they asked what the purpose of my conversation had been (when I had already detailed it a question or two before) etc., etc.
I made another attempt to transfer photos from my phone to my computer, and failed again so reverted to my tried and tested Canon EOS 5D for the forest drive we took this afternoon.
Our journey began in calm, encouraging, sunshine; gradually the clouds became dark and brooding, large soft raindrops caressed the windscreen, and acorn pistol shots ricocheted from the Modus body.
At the corner of Ringwood Road where overhead trees were reflected in pools along the verges,
another photographer, like me, had disembarked, leaving his Chauffeuse at the wheel, in order to photograph
a string of dripping donkeys
beyond which cows sheltering beneath other trees drew me across the road where
I disturbed a deer which took a good look at me before departing in haste.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s succulent cottage pie; fried potatoes and onions, crunchy carrots, and tender runner beans, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank Terra Calda Puglia Primitivo 2019. Flo and Dillon ate later.
Now for the good news. This post has been published without any glitches just as I had almost forgotten was normal
Mum is recovering from a throat infection for which she has been treated with antibiotics.
On our visit this morning she demonstrated the site of her discomfort and explained that she had refused to stay in bed in favour of sitting in her chair to get herself moving.
This afternoon we took a drive into the forest.
The sight of ponies exercising their ancient pasturage privileges in view of Fawley Refinery from Exbury Road prompted reflection on past and present juxtaposition..
Nearby, different reflections remain temporarily possible in a rapidly drying rippling pool. Long shadows were cast across both expanding borders and diminishing water levels.
Most of our verges, like these alongside Lepe Road, carry swathes of bluebells, celandines, primroses, and daffodils.
Jackie parked overlooking Lepe while I photographed
yachts passing the Isle of Wight coastal buildings including a string of beach huts; a motorised dinghy on its way over there;
a window in the wall of The Watch House; bright blue grape hyacinths beside the road;
and a family walking with a dog.
This evening we dined on our customary second helpings of yesterday’s Chinese fare which is still good. Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank Mendoza Trivento Reserve Malbec 2019.
Today there was still a chill in the air, which became more overcast with sunny periods as it went on.
After lunch we drove into the forest. As so often on a dull day we thought we may not find much of photographic interest, until the sun and
our little group of equine friends found beside the stream at the junction of Chapel Lane and Forest Road took pity on us.
The rippling stream bore reflections;
The trees through which the assorted ponies could be viewed bore moss and lichen;
the ground underfoot bore celandines, dandelions, violets, and daisies.
More reflections and water crowfoot (buttercups) adorned the pool further along Forest Road, beyond which
I gazed across the layered landscape.
This evening we enjoyed breaded mushrooms with Jackie’s hot and spicy pasta arrabbiata and tender runner beans, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I partook of Mendoza El Tesoro Red Blend 2019.
Knowing that we are about to experience strong gales for three days I lay down the garden chairs and the new water feature as a precaution this morning, and this afternoon we visited the coast at Milford on Sea to make calmer photographs than we would anticipate for a while.
Although from a distance the sea looked calm enough as I focussed on the Isle of Wight and a woman on the seafront shingle,
it wasn’t that tranquil.
Jackie focussed on me photographing
waves advancing in a rush, and seeping back across the shingle.
As we left, a black-headed gull was perched for takeoff.
Should there be anyone who does not know of Captain Sir Thomas Moore, you are advised to consult https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Captain_Tom_Moore to read about the inspirational gentleman approaching his 100th birthday who, during 2020 raised our nation’s spirits; £34,000,000+ for the NHS; and, ultimately Queen Elizabeth II’s dubbing arm. This man’s favourite phrase, “Tomorrow will be a good day”, has been celebrated in yarn on the Pilley Street letter box.
After passing this, we drove on to Lepe where, from Inchmere Lane
we looked out over the flats, where I photographed
a solitary oyster catcher, and Jackie photographed
a motor boat.
I disembarked beside a seasonal pool on Exbury Road where I photographed
reflections of overhead trees;
fallen branches; and a mossy bank.
Do ducks lay eggs on a bare scratched circular area of ground? If so, I found one.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s chicken and vegetable stewp with fresh bread, followed by her spicy pasta arrabbiata and tender runner beans, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Primitivo Salento.
On another wet afternoon we drove to Lymington for printer inks and to Milford on Sea pharmacy and Co-op, diverting to Keyhaven on our way home.
Saltgrass Lane was well waterlogged, even though the tide was not yet high enough for its closure.
Walkers, dogs, and vehicles were silhouetted on the spit against dramatic skies.
Sedate swans, occasionally dipping their benthic burrowing beaks, sailed along the water’s surface.
Skeins of geese honked overhead;
turnstones rested on rocks while
Jackie photographed me photographing them, as the rising tide lapped around them
Nearby she also spotted a thrush (identified by quercuscommunity’s comment below as more likely a rock pipit), curlews, geese, and an oystercatcher.
A hardy human pair spent some considerable time immersed up to their necks in the water, arousing the interest of a pair of swans when they changed into their dry clothes. The last picture is Jackie’s.
This evening we dined on tasty Welsh rarebit, Jackie’s choice chicken and vegetable stewp, and fresh crusty bread, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Macon.
Today we took an early lunch and drove to Tesco for our big shop. As usual I sat in the car, Jackie did the business, and I intended to read my book. After one page my sister, Jacqueline, phoned me and that was the end of the reading.
In fact Tesco wasn’t too difficult, so the Caterer in Chief wouldn’t let me unload the shopping into the car for Covid safety’s sake.
We took a diversion round Holmsley Passage and its misty, frosty, landscape on our way home.
As I wandered, fingers and toes tingling, I discerned just one group of grazing ponies.
Others, on Holmsley Road
and Wootton Common were nearer at hand. One, as soon as I paid it any attention, huddled against its companion seeking security.
A weak sun, putting in an appearance over Hordle Lane, silhouetted a number of oaks.
Undeterred by the fact that we are still consuming provisions bought in for Covid-cancelled Christmas, Jackie had made her first Easter egg purchases.
This evening we dined on more of Jackie’s perfect spicy pork paprika; boiled potatoes; firm carrots and cauliflower; and tender runner beans, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Malbec.
First published in 1936, just three years before the outbreak of World War 2, “Eyeless in Gaza” is possibly Aldous Huxley’s most acclaimed work. His familiar themes of the tension between emotional and intellectual lives of his privileged hedonistic characters are explored in depth with his usual insightful knowledge of these self-centred human beings. He also deals with the conflict between warfare and pacifism in a far-sighted way which resonates uncannily with our modern conflict between self-seeking hate and generous love. Sexuality in this work is seldom generous, sometimes manipulative, and often short-lived.
The language and the dialogue is always fluent with much easy, poetic, description, and occasional adventurous episodes.
I finished reading my somewhat careworn first edition today.
The remnants of the green shield logo of Boots Book-lovers’ Library and what looks like a peel-resistant borrowers record inside the back one suggest that my copy began life as an item on those shelves.
The lending libraries were established within branches of Boots across the country, employing dedicated library staff whose training included examinations on both librarianship and literature.[2] Boots’ libraries displayed books for browsing on open shelves[3] at a time when many public libraries had closed access. A catalogue of the books available was first published in 1904.
Subscriptions were available in Classes A and B, the latter being restricted to borrowing books at least one year old, as well as a premium ‘On Demand’ subscription.[4]Boots Booklovers Library edition of The Saint in Europe
Books carried the ‘green shield’ logo on the front and an eyelet at the top of the spine.[5] Membership tokens were rectangles of ivorine[6]with a string similar to a Treasury tag; the string could be secured through the eyelet so that the token acted as a bookmark.[7]
Boots also briefly reprinted classic books at the start of the 20th century under the imprint ‘Pelham Library’,[8] named after the flagship Boots shop on Pelham Street in Nottingham,[9] and later sold books as ‘Boots the Booksellers’.’
My mother was regularly taking my brother and me to Wimbledon Public Library from the late 1940s, (https://derrickjknight.com/2012/05/25/miss-downs/) so the 1964 Act mentioned above obviously had no effect on our town.
Like dogs marking their territory, previous readers had left deposits throughout the pages. The burn marks on page 17 we assumed had been left by a pipe smoker – they singed through three pages; other small greasy spots, about which it was best not to speculate too much, filtered through an equal number of pages; I wondered whether any of the numerous finger prints of varying hues had been held on any national data bases.
Nick began to make headway on the coloured walls in the sitting room, whilst adding coats to the white and to the ceiling.
We left him to it this afternoon and shopped at Ferndene Farm Shop where there was no queue, then took a short drive into the vicinity of Burley.
I wandered among the woodland on the outskirts. The tree fungus sprouts from the fallen tree. Roughly in the bottom centre of the last picture can be discerned
a bouncing squirrel on its way to climb a small holly carrying a chestnut which looked rather more than it could chew.
The spreading oak tree on the way down the hill into the village now wears a golden cape. The Queen’s Head is Covid-closed.
The pool on Forest Road has completely filled up now, and was reflecting nicely in the late afternoon sun.
Autumn leaves rested beneath the water.
On Bisterne Close a young foal was undertaking an apprenticeship in hedge clipping.
We have become Elizabeth’s bubble; she joined us for dinner which consisted of Jackie’s cheese-topped shepherd’s pie; crunchy cauliflower and carrots; firm green beans; and meaty gravy. Cherry pie and cream was to follow. The Culinary Queen drank Hoegaarden while Elizabeth and I drank more of the Faugeres, which involved opening another bottle.
This morning we righted the fallen pots in the garden before visiting Ferndene Farm Shop where
Jackie joined the masked queue. I have her word that she was smiling in the last picture.
The shopping went quite smoothly. Afterwards we took a drive into the forest by way of
Holmsley Passage which was already becoming quite busy.
Heather enhanced the moorland landscape and the vibrant verges.
Other vehicles, walkers, and cycling groups needed to be negotiated.
As we reached the end of this narrow, winding, lane this family group who we had allowed to go ahead hadn’t yet decided which way to go. Left would have taken them to Burley; right was the road to Brockenhurst; straight on was the route to Bisterne Close. Jackie decided she would go one of the ways they didn’t. They went straight on; we turned right and stopped at
the pool on the way up Clay Hill. Jackie parked by the roadside while I wandered around photographing the water, the reflections, the woodland, and its shadows. I found a metal dog tag with a local phone number stamped on it. I phoned the owner and left a message explaining where I would lodge it.
After this we thought that Bisterne Close might have been clear of the cyclists and wended our way back there where ponies, their foals, and cattle happily shared the road.
Another group of ponies were not about to cede ground to the motor vehicle. One driver left his car and attempted to clap them out of the way. They must have thought they were being applauded, for they didn’t budge. Cajoling had no better effect; the car horn was tried next. Eventually the unspoken message “go round us” was heeded.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s classic cottage pie; pleasantly chewy curly kale; and crunchy carrots with which she drank Beck’s and I drank Carles Priorat 2016.
The thousands of people who crowded the UK parks and beaches over the weekend; and the London Underground yesterday, gave the Government no option but to send us into compulsory lockdown, which was announced and came into place with immediate effect last evening. Again this morning the tube trains were packed.
All non-essential retail outlets are to close; everyone is to stay indoors except when shopping for essentials once a week or for outdoor exercising once a day; gatherings of more than two, except for family groups must stop. Clearly complete policing will be impossible. Much will still depend upon common sense and consideration for others.
At the moment the police are only able to use persuasion. The regulations will imminently be enshrined in law and fines for infringement will be introduced.
This afternoon Jackie drove me up to the highest point of Holmsley Passage and decanted me onto the terrain, where I walked for forty minutes in complete isolation.
She photographed the proof. This was my outward journey;
this the return.
I have mentioned before that we see things differently when on foot than when driving.
We had never known that, even on this high, albeit undulating and soggy, ground, There lay a deep, reflecting, pool.
I passed a recently toppled tree
in the woodland on the right hand side going down the lane
A pair of walkers
descended the steep slopes of the heathland;
a lone cyclist prepared to cast down the lane.
I crossed to the other side where bright yellow gorse
dotted the heath
where a small family kept their distance;
as did a cyclist disappearing on the pitted track.
I photographed trees in silhouette
while Jackie also photographed a tangle of lichen covered branches;
and a robin with its mate practising
social distancing.
Careful not to interrupt this pony’s slumber, I did poke my lens out of the window at Brockenhurst.
We took a diversion to Pilley on our way home, tapped on Elizabeth’s window, pulled funny faces, and bravely ran away. She came out after us and, keeping a little more than the requisite distance we enjoyed a pleasant conversation.
This evening we dined on luscious lemon chicken, crisp roast potatoes, crunchy cauliflower, and tender cabbage with tasty gravy, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank Tesco’s finest Médoc 2016.
