thatched cottages – derrickjknight

“Where’s Elizabeth?” (2)

Although the day became somewhat brighter and warmer as it progressed, it was really quite dull and cold until mid-afternoon. This morning we took a brief trip to Ferndene Farm Shop where the Head Gardener bought three more bags of compost and trays of bedding plants.

This afternoon we carried out a Tesco shop in the usual manner. Jackie was very pleased to try out the face screen Helen had given her for her birthday. It was a great improvement on the masks which make the task very difficult.

Afterwards we drove to Pilley where I made

this week’s selection of record pictures of the lake. Those from the two usual vantage points do not show the full difference in the water level from our last trip.

Maybe these three shots give a better idea, especially the last one which ten days ago contained a smaller pool apparently harbouring a shark.

I was able to walk across the dry stretch and round the row of cottages opposite the green on which small ponies grazed within sight of the thatched terrace. There I enjoyed a pleasant conversation with a mother and daughter whose home looked out onto the scene. We found we had marathon running in common, both having run the London.

There were more donkeys, with foals, on Bull Hill than there were ponies.

These managed to disrupt the traffic on a grand scale. It was particularly amusing when I white Toyota slalomed round the asses and came to a halt nose-to-nose with my Chauffeuse’s Modus, and out stepped Elizabeth, (“Where’s Elizabeth?” (2)), with her friend Barbara who is staying with her.

For dinner this evening, the Culinary Queen produced chicken marinaded in mango and chilli on a bed of vegetable rice with tender green beans. Her accompanying beverage was Hoegaarden and mine, more of the Shiraz.

Do Horses Have Twins?

Today, carrying a freshly prepared picnic lunch, Jackie drove us out to the currently sleepy village of Hale in the north west of the New Forest. This proved to be a good choice because all the other tourist spots we passed were quite busy.

We turned off Roger Penny Way into Woodgreen Road running between Godshill Village Hall and The Fighting Cocks pub.

A woman with a mobile phone bent to photograph a portrait of a donkey standing in the middle of the road;

while one of their number stroked another ass her companions were intrigued by one more,

beside a somnolent companion still sporting its winter coat while waiting for the postman, resting its head against the hall wall, on which hangs a defibrillator.

Judging by the number of tiny foals sleeping like any infant on the dry grass beside the pub there has been a recent spate of births.

It didn’t take the young ladies from outside the hall long to pet this one awake.

We continued to Hale Lane from which we could look down on a quilted landscape, and enjoy the sunlight brightening a bracken hedge and dappling the trunk of a mighty oak.

On a previous visit to Hale, featured in https://derrickjknight.com/2019/03/21/posing-comes-with-the-job/ I had photographed these happy thatchers working on

this lengthy roof, now well weathered in.

We enjoyed our picnic on a bench beneath a spreading oak canopy near the

village hall, also bearing a wall-mounted defibrillator.

At lunchtime during normal term-time the green would have resounded with the cries of schoolchildren – not so 2020; the quiet was so still that voices could be discerned on the other side of the open space which belonged to

resident ponies and foal

which eventually trooped off to the shady outskirts.

Passing Wootton Bridge on the way home we spotted a pair of foals prompting us to speculate about whether horses produced twins. Several sites on Google leave us in no doubt that this is a very rare event, the odds against a healthy mare and both twins surviving are 10,000 to 1. We had not seen twin youngsters.

This evening we dined on tangy pork chops coated with mustard and almonds; crisp roast potatoes, including the sweet variety; tender sweetheart cabbage; crunchy carrots; and tasty, meaty gravy with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank a smooth Flores de Soligamar Rioja 2018.

“Not Where You Want To Meet Something Coming Round The Next Bend”

Quite early this morning we drove along

Mount Pleasant Lane beside which

sweeping landscaped fields harboured horses, some sporting fly-protection masks.

Our original destination was South Sway Lane, along which

free manure is usually on offer. All that is required from people helping themselves to this gardeners’ gold is that we leave replacement empty bags for those

that we load into our cars. As always, this morning a quantity of flying livestock came with the horse droppings, so as soon as we arrived home I transported this lot to the compost bins.

Before that we drove around for a while, pausing at Longslade Bottom where I wandered among

ponies, a foal, and walkers with or without dogs. The crowds had not yet built up.

Approaching a bend in Church Lane on the way to Pilley Jackie observed that this was “not where you want to meet something coming round the next bend”.

Very soon she found herself backing round that same corner.

On arrival at Pilley we encountered another group of assorted ponies. I explained to a couple of European visitors that the lake bed on which some of the larger animals were grazing was not normally so dry. The tourists were quite alarmed at the violence with which the smaller ones were butted out of the way by the bigger variety.

A solitary bay fronted the thatched cottages beside the green..

This evening we dined on second helpings of Forest Tandoori’s excellent takeaway fare with which I finished the Malbec and Jackie abstained.

Nesting Teapots

Before visiting Otter Nurseries for compost this morning we took a drive into the forest.

We met two different large vans on Undershore. This was the widest, straightest, end of this narrow sinuous lane.

A solitary pony made its way past a row of old thatched cottages facing the green at Pilley.

On the outskirts of the village, a group of ponies on the road revealed the freshly cut tails clearly received during a recent Drift.

I don’t think any of them would have tossed this can onto the verge.

Overlooked by a pigeon atop a dying tree

fine islands of water lilies float on a section of Hatchet Pond,

where an eager moorhen went blackberrying.

A slender barefoot woman walked over the shingle at low tide on Tanners Lane beach; rolled up her jeans; and joined her frisky dog splashing and paddling.

I spent the afternoon listening to the second day of the fourth Ashes Test match.

Jackie presented two teapots for Nugget’s consideration.

One is hidden on the trunk of the copper beech;

another in the ivy against the south fence of the Rose Garden.

“Where’s Nugget?” (15)

The Head Gardener also photographed these views.

This evening we dined on a splendid meal at Faros in Milford on Sea. Jackie chose Zucchini fritters followed by lamb giouvetsi with plentiful fresh salad; my selection was baked meatballs and beef stilfado with chips. Mrs Knight drank half of a Toast while I drank Xinomavro.

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Setting the mood nicely, a sheet of heavy cloud leaked steady precipitation dripping down our windscreen all the way to New Hall Hospital for my appointment with Miss Melissa Davies, consultant urologist early this morning. Windscreen wipers swept across my vision. After an examination I’d rather not describe, and a full questionnaire I was able to leave with a certain amount of optimism signalled by the clearance of the skies and the emergence of sun separating the clouds. I do have to order a specific blood test and ask my GP to recommend a procedure involving a miniature camera and an anaesthetic.

Feeling rather hearty, we stopped at the charming village of Hale which I photographed without the need to numb my consciousness.

“You’re not photographing that are you?” asked the local resident who did not think the sculpture on the edge of the green looked much like a pony and foal.

The tree behind the sculpture was planted in 1992 to commemorate the fortieth anniversary of the accession of Queen Elizabeth II. The brass plaque explaining this is headed ‘Kinges Oak’.

A string of cyclists sped past the green,

on the other side of which a solitary equine representative stood before the school, the students of which will be playing where it stands once they return from the Summer break.

All post in the forest is delivered from little red vans, like the one driven by the postman enjoying a chat with a resident of one of the attractive thatched cottages.

The village is approached by narrow tree-lined lanes. I wondered whether the above brick built structure was the ice house once belonging to Hale House.

From the higher levels could be seen a patchwork quilt flung across the landscape,

above which patrolled a predatory raptor.

A herd of cows dined on the upper slopes.

The whole length of Roger Penny Way is punctuated by warning signs alerting drivers to the possibility of animals on the road. One is ‘Watch Out……’ pictured here. This flock had passed the sign when making their way across the road to this pasture. While I focussed on them a large bovine ambled down the centre of the minor road to my left to join its ovine cousins.

Afterwards we brunched at the Walkford Diner. Here we enjoyed huge traditional breakfasts cooked on a griddle. Black puddings and haggis, for example, are imported from Stornaway, and potato scones are just like the ones Mum used to make. Only when inside did we realise that the establishment was run by Ian, who had produced excellent meals at Molly’s Den. These were even better.

It will therefore come as no surprise that I could not join in the ladies’ enjoyment of Jackie’s beef in red wine dinner. (Mum is better and Elizabeth is back with us). I was, however, able to manage the Culinary Queen’s apple and apricot crumble and custard, and a couple more glasses of the Fleurie.