Trichologists Having Fun

The storm that raged through the night and most of the day had Jackie regretting the time she had spent watering the garden yesterday. By the afternoon the precipitation was beginning to be interrupted by periods of sunshine.

After lunch it seemed to be the weather to buy a new tyre to replace the one that was suffering a slow leak. Others must have had the same idea, because there was quite a queue at the fitters. In the event we needed two new tyres. I had begun to be quite nervous about whether I would arrive at the dentists in time to keep my hygienist’s appointment. Actually I was a little early. After a painless scraping and polishing we drove into the forest.

As we left New Milton we couldn’t miss a young lad in Station Road celebrating school holidays in party mood, albeit attempting to look quite normal.

Heather is turning purple on the moors alongside Holmsley Passage;

while rowan trees, like these beside

Bisterne Close, Burley, are a good six weeks early.

We have often remarked upon the varied colour ways found on the New Forest ponies, for example a grey body with chestnut forelegs, mane and tails; or a bay with black and white tail. FP even sported a matching brand. Their trichologists must have fun with the hair dye.

From Bisterne Close we turn into Mill Lane where sunlight pierced the spaces between the trees and sliced last autumn’s layers of leaves. Here a fly on an oak leaf must have preferred this to the ponies’ muzzles.

We noticed several groups of walkers carrying their temporary homes on their backs. It is little wonder that, give the soaking they had received, some of them seemed somewhat less than gruntled.

This evening we dined on chicken breasts, mushrooms, and peppers in a Chinese sauce marinade, creamy mashed potatoes; crunchy carrots; and tender runner and green beans, with which Jackie drank Blue Moon and I drank more of the Bergerac.

Cockapoo, Cattle, And Equine Landscape

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This morning Jackie drove me to New Hall Hospital for a follow up visit to Mr Kask, my orthopaedic surgeon. At the same time Louisa and her daughters left to visit a cousin in Cambridge.

Mr Kask was happy with my progress and considered that the right knee replacement could wait until after an appointment in three months time.

As I opened up my camera on the way home, I found two photographs of Geri (Halliwell), sitting on my chair, therein. This, I believe, was my daughter’s reminder that I had not featured her young cockapoo in my weekend posts. I could imagine myself as a small boy ¬†choosing such a dog for a pet, purely on account of the name of the breed.

I disembarked on the green at Mockbeggar to photograph a small, motley, herd of fly-bearing cattle in occupation. Mostly black and white adults, there were a few calves, a couple of brown and white ones having been adopted.

The landscape near Linwood was enhanced by ponies wandering around the vicinity of the aptly named Appleslade car park. Apples and hawthorn fruit mingled among the trees, and we encountered the common sight of patiently optimistic ponies planted before a cottage gate.

This evening we enjoyed a drink on the patio before dining on Jackie’s roast lamb; roast and boiled potatoes, including sweet ones; runner beans from the garden; and saut√©ed peppers, onions, and mushrooms. Elizabeth and I drank Saint-Chinian 2016 and the Culinary Queen drank Hoegaarden.