rose hips – derrickjknight

From Thunderstorm To Sunshine

With thunderstorms raging outside and my having been the last to succumb to the common cold that has worked its way through the household, I stayed inside and watched World Cup rugby starting with a recording of last night’s match between Wales and Tonga; then live matches between South Africa and Romania and between Australia and Fiji.

This evening the sun emerged and Jackie photographed

the hour before twilight. Each image is entitled in its gallery.

This evening we all dined on roast lamb; boiled new potatoes, firm broccoli, cauliflower, and carrots, mint sauce, and meaty gravy, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the GSM.

Pattering Precipitation

Jackie has recovered well enough this afternoon to drive Dillon and Flo to a couple of shops where they made purchases while she waited in the car.

Despite the forecast for snow

the early morning frost was largely washed away by a later sleet storm, so the post prandial precipitation pattering upon glistening fallen leaves dripped not from the now clearer skies but, when slithered into sufficient pendulous weight. directly from

glittering crab apples and

rose hips;

spiky leaves of bottle brush,

softer ones from other trees,

and shivering rose petals.

Later Shelly visited bringing a delicious beef stew for our dinner this evening. All I needed to do was to prepare potatoes, runner beans, carrots, and broccoli. Jackie then heated everything, or, as she said, “orchestrate[d] it”. I finished the Malbec with mine.

A Home Visit

Jackie is not one to spend a day in bed through illness. Her cold has now developed into a severe chest infection. This morning the productive cough continued and she had a throbbing headache – itself a rarity.

It was clear to me that a home visit was required. Once through the system I managed to convince receptive others of that. A quick phone call from a GP resulted in a speedy visit from two paramedics attached to the surgery; a thorough examination by them; an immediate phone call back to the GP; a prescription sent directly to the Milford Pharmacy for antibiotics and steroids which Elizabeth collected for us within a couple of hours, bringing with them a bunch of flowers.

Jackie was able to come down to sit in her chair for the afternoon. She even went to sleep in it – a first.

I did find time for a quick dash around the garden with my camera, where

the copper beech

and the Japanese maples are fast shedding leaves;

rose hips, especially if I haven’t been able to reach them for dead heading, add their own seasonal colour;

shadows stretch across surfaces like that of the orange shed;

primroses have forgotten the month;

the winter flowering clematis Cirrhosa Freckles is well aware that we are in December;

and this viburnum is not sure.

Our blackbirds are tucking into the crab apples. This one enjoyed pecking at the fruit beneath the leaf at its feet until it saw me and sneaked off into the shrubbery with it.

This evening we dined on my sausages in red wine, with cauliflower, broccoli, carrots, and boiled potatoes chopped by Flo with which I drank Mendoza Malbec 2020, Dillon and Flo drank elderflower cordial, and Jackie abstained.

Creepy Woods

I have been without a watch for a day or two. My Tissot needed a new strap and my Longines a battery. This morning Jackie found time to drive me to Robert Allan Jewellers in New Milton to have replacements fitted. We left the timepieces in the shop and drove into the forest before collecting them later from this excellent establishment which does the job quickly and efficiently.

Pastel skies streaked over the browning moorland flanking

the ever-crumbling Holmsley Passage

alongside which wild rose hips

rise above the rippling, reflective, stream.

From the passage we crossed Burley Road into Bisterne Close beside which the woods took on a decidedly creepy persona.

Beech nuts lined the forest floor.

The ditches

and the verge pool are filling up with the heavy rainwater we have been receiving lately.

A Travis Perkins lorry delivering bags of sand brought us to a halt. The driver was most apologetic. He had driven as close to the house entrance as he could, and would only be a few minutes. He underestimated how long it would take to tote one bag at a time up the drive. Having once been stuck on a verge with a similar drop to the one she would have to risk if we didn’t wait, my Chauffeuse reversed the Modus and took a longer back to New Milton.

This afternoon Dave, the plumber, visited to advise us on the replacement for our macerator which seems to be developing a death rattle; and Anne from Kitchen Makers advised that the handles we had chosen for some of our various new cupboards were not available and invited us to choose alternatives. After ordering the masticator of human refuse from Screwfit we called in on Anne and selected alternative grips.

This evening we dined on oven fish and chips, baked beans, and cornichons pickled in chilli. Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Fleurie.

Thunder

This morning I read in the car while Jackie shopped first in Milford Supplies for hand gel, wipes, and a mask; then for pansies in Ferndene Farm Shop, after which we continued into the forest, where Holmsley Passage displayed signs of autumn in the form of

partially nibbled mushrooms, vibrant wild rose hips, and golden brown bracken.

The rippling stream flows beneath the little bridge spanning the lane, now so narrowly tarmacked as to be almost impassable.

While I focussed on the bracken Jackie photographed her resident wing mirror spider as it emerged from hiding, took a little exercise round the rim, and scuttled back inside.

As I wandered in the woodland alongside Bisterne Close the tranquility I shared with a pair of peaceful ponies was about to be disturbed by a steadily increasing rolling, reverberating, thunder, which, given the clarity of the skies was somewhat surprising.

Suddenly, streaming through the trees and into the open a string of assorted ponies rushed past, scooping up the original couple in their wake. Soon they could be seen among distant gorse bushes until their thundering hooves recommenced and instantly they were gone.

All was returned to calm normality by cattle leisurely blocking Bennet’s Lane.

This afternoon Jackie planted the pansies around Scooby’s grave with tete-a-tete daffodil bulbs beneath them.

Later we dined on a second sitting of Mr Chan’s excellent Hordle Chinese Take Away fare with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank a very smooth Bordeaux Médoc 2018

Protective Pruning

This morning dawned bright and comparatively cold, but work in the Rose Garden could still be carried out in shirt sleeves.

Here Jackie prunes Mama Mia which had already been trimmed a short while ago. These photographs show the new shoots persisting – but they had to go before winter winds rocked the stems and loosened their roots.

Climbers escaped the treatment, allowing their hips to colour the arch. One white Madame Alfred Cariere bloom has survived.

Nugget, of course, shot down to investigate. Muggle kept a low profile in the larch.

Late this afternoon Jackie drove us to Emsworth where we dined at Durbar Indian restaurant with Becky and Ian.

We stopped at Everton village shop and Post Office to post a package to Australia.

Here is the village poppy display.

Jackie thinks this cloud formation ahead of us on the M27 indicates a spell of cold whether. Can anyone confirm this?

We were almost an hour early for our 6 p.m. date. Then we hit this roadworks queue which occupied a little time.

The mogul inspired restaurant is excellent and rather out of the ordinary. We shared rices, a paratha, and onion bahjis. My main course was Goan pork vindaloo; Jackie’s, paneer tikka; Becky’s, chicken biriani; and Ian’s, another mild chicken dish. Our son-in-law and I drank Cobra, his wife drank rosé wine, and Jackie drank Kingfisher. The food was very well cooked and the service exemplary.

Wet, Wet, Wet

The wind had dropped today. Unfortunately it was not available to send the leaden clouds on their way. They hung overhead, shedding rain all day. Initially not much more than drizzle fell, so Jackie continued her autumn clearance and I joined her for a while. I brought the heavy precipitation with me, but stayed out until I feared for my camera lens.

Hoping that it was Nugget who had made inroads into it, Jackie gleefully pointed to another dish of sampled robin food.

She is heavily pruning a hebe alongside the Dead End Path.

I had intended to transport the clippings to the end of the back drive and bag them up for Aaron to take away. When the deluge began I thought better of it.

Raindrops had cleansed and bejewelled such as bronze fennel seed heads;

rhododendron leaves and buds that think it is spring;

maple leaves;

spiders’ webs;

rose hips;

rose buds;

fuchsias;

begonias;

petunias;

and phormiums.

After lunch I accompanied Jackie to Tesco Supermarket where she she shopped and I sat in the car photographing, through the rain-dripping windscreen,

other shoppers as they passed by.

We then drove to Woodpeckers to visit Mum who was on very good form.

Just along Sway Road a duo of decidedly damp donkeys sought what shelter they could beneath the trees of Brackendale.

Back at home I watched a recording of the Rugby World Cup match between Ireland and Samoa.

We dined on Jackie’s perfect pork paprika liberally peppered with cayenne; boiled potatoes; carrots al dente; and tender runner beans. The Culinary Queen drank Hoegaarden and I drank Grand Conseiller Pinot Noir 2017.

Far Too Fast For Me

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The day was as radiant as yesterday had been dismal. At lunchtime we brunched at the Walkford Diner which now has sautéed potatoes and onions to be added to any of the standard meals. Naturally we added some to our All Day Breakfasts. We continued on into the forest, where

Thatchers Lane’s hedgerows bore many holly berries and a curved tree stem that Jackie termed “nature’s bench”.

High on Thorney Hill, two horses grazed in a sun-kissed field. As so often happens, first the white one, then its companion made a beeline for me as I stood observing them.

Somewhere about this point the name changes to Braggers. Here heavier workhorses, one sleeping under a tree, occupied another field. Sun streaked across grass and tarmac.

A staggered crossroads soon takes us into Fish Street where a young equestrienne ambling along in front of us was considerate enough to pull over to facilitate our passage. The early Christmas decorations suspended overhead were red painted pine cones.

On the approach to Bashley a solitary Gloucester Old Spot sow sped into the trees. She was far too fast for me, so I focussed on Autumn colour instead.

Tree work at the roundabout on the corner of Bashley Common Road and Sway Road, requiring 4 – Way Traffic Control, provided plenty of opportunity for me to poke my lens out of my stationary window and photograph roadside rose hips. Needless to say, fans of Hampshire’s roads will not be surprised that, of the four affected ways, only ours was subjected to the long tailback.

Elizabeth is spending a week with friends in Edinburgh. Jackie and I dined on the Culinary Queen’s excellent chilli con carne and savoury rice with which I drank Chateau Pinenc Minervois 2017.

Was It Something In The Water?

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This morning was spent Christmas shopping in New Milton and in Brockenhurst

Jackie parked the car in Butts Lane, Brockenhurs and I walked alongside the stream beside it.

At the far end a ford leads to Park Close. The water level gauge shows

it is quite shallow at this point.

Vehicles are able to cross easily, and send ripples along the waterway.

Trees,

buildings,

and fences rippled in the water.

Wild rose hips wound over the wooden bridge rails.

A chaffinch took advantage of shrubbery camouflage,

spanning the stream.

This didn’t conceal a wood pigeon.

Perhaps this bird had lost a feather.

Jumping jackdaws scratched around on the bank.

Although I saw no birds in the stream, the pigeon had a bath in,

and the jackdaws drank from, a pool beside a house. Was it something in the water?

This evening we dined on barbecued pork spare ribs, prawn toasts, and Jackie’s exceedingly savoury rice. She drank more of the sauvignon blanc and I drank Mendoza Parra Alta malbec 2016.

One That Didn’t Get Away

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In anticipation of the expected 45 m.p.h. winds we were out early this morning battening down the hatches.

Chairs

and hanging baskets were grounded;

trugs, like this blue one on the chair at the west end of the Phantom Path were upended;

I lifted this flowering gladiolus’s broken stem and wedged it between another and the bamboo support. It was rather ragged but deserved a lift.

This Small White butterfly hadn’t heard the weather forecast.

Dahlias, of course, are in season;

verbena bonarensis goes on for ever;

salvias and snapdragons still thrive,

as do some begonias.

Hips, like those of Rosa Glauca, glow, glistening.

Kniphofias are having a second flush,

as are roses, including Crown Princess Margareta, although most are showing signs of age.

Most of the beds are still vibrant.

We have many ferns. A Japanese Painted Lady sits in the centre of these.

Jackie spent some time planting bulbs,

and dived into the Kitchen Bed

to emerge like a triumphant angler with a lengthy bramble.

Sid has now joined Aaron in AP Maintenance. Today they switched to the afternoon. By then the wind had really got up and the rain began to fall, leaving its mark on Jackie’s lens when she took some of ,these photographs. In less than two hours

Sid mowed the grass;

Aaron transformed the eucalyptus, seen here blowing in the wind,

to this;

the pair removed an extraneous buddleia, thus revealing the trunk of a Cordyline Australis which they stripped of dead lower foliage;

smoothed out the gravel on the back drive, and took away all their cuttings and the contents of one of our orange bags.

The boughs of the trees, for example the weeping birch, were whipped by the wind, and, by the time the maintenance crew had left, the rain was hammering down.

Shelly and Ron visited this afternoon. Ron investigated our drainage system; I printed the pictures from Ron’s party for them; and Shelly brought some of her own freshly picked runner beans which Jackie and I ate for dinner, along with chicken marinaded in Nando’s tasty mango and lime sauce, mashed potato, and carrot and swede mash. Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Fleurie.