I drafted this post against the unfamiliar rhythmic, sonorous, ticking of a proper, analogue, wall clock that was more or less silenced by the various moves after leaving Sutherland Place in 2009. Martin Fairhurst of Dials Antique Clocks has done a grand job of restoring the timepiece to the condition it enjoyed when Michael bought it for Jessica and me about 35 years ago. Not new then, Mr Fairhurst tells me that the movement is American. I suspect that, should anyone other than Scooby, who is now rather hard of hearing, attempt to sleep in our sitting room, they may benefit from a set of ear plugs. You never know, it might help me to keep awake for an entire TV programme.
As I have shown previously, Dials lies at the foot of the exquisitely cobbled Quay Street in Lymington. Jackie drove me there this afternoon, but, it being Saturday, and market day, the car parks were full, so she had to park some distance away,
and I walked round The Quay and up the cobbled slope to the shop, which lies
diagonally opposite Karina’s colourful miniature emporium.
The day was overcast and there had been some rain, but not on my promenade.
Apart from the modern grandfather clock to the left of this browser,
Dials is a treasure trove of attractive antiques,
including a centrally placed telescope.
No self respecting horologist would be without a box of intriguing keys.
Pub food in this country is streets ahead of that of my youth, which was either non existent or not much cop (the food, not my youth). Steak and ale pie is one of the staples. Good as this generally is, it cannot hold a candle to Jackie’s steak and mushroom pie in red wine that she served up this evening with roast potatoes and parsnips, cauliflower cheese, crisp carrots and Brussels sprouts, followed by Co-op laced profiteroles. I enjoyed making a start on Montemajone chianti classico 2011, given to me for Christmas by Helen and Bill.