Tag: tractor

Honeysuckling

We have enjoyed excellent, efficient, and smooth on line repeat prescription service from our local pharmacy adjacent to our GP surgery for a good number of years. Until some weeks ago all changed. There were more people than ever working in the background behind the counter; apparent computer problems; missing prescriptions; people in queues having been told to come back next day – one man 3 days running; a generally harassed atmosphere. I was never inconvenienced myself, except for having queued behind the unhappy people, when previously queueing had been rare; Jackie had suffered from the “try again tomorrow” syndrome, as had someone else in the family – regularly.

When we visited this morning I asked to speak to the person in charge to ask about what was going wrong. I would have had to drive 45 minutes away to do this because that is where the new owner was now based. Our independent company had been taken over by another of that ilk.

My conversation with staff was most amenable and I was given the new owner’s address. They would welcome a complaint from me. Bigger is clearly not better.

Today’s weather was similar to yesterday’s. That is generally overcast until we returned home from a late afternoon forest drive when the sun put in an appearance for the evening.

A tractor working over a field of many pheasants sent the birds scattering across Sowley Lane.

Along St Leonard’s Road a group of donkeys foraged above and within a dry ditch.

One of two foals, having untangled itself from a barbed wire fence crossed to the other side of the road;

the other, probably quite surprised by the presence of a bus we have never seen here before, allowed the vehicle to pass.

From the car, Jackie photographed honeysuckle in the hedgerow and the younger foal suckling.

I contributed a stem of valerian growing from the fourteenth century stone wall of St Leonard’s Grange and a cluster of conkers soon to fall.

This evening we all dined on succulent roast chicken; sage and onion stuffing; boiled new potatoes; crunchy carrots and cauliflower with which Jackie drank Lambrusco and I drank Mas d’Anglade Montpeyroux 2018.

Gorse Clearance

On another frosty-blue-sky morning lacking cloud cover to lift the temperature, Jackie and I made a trip to Otter Nurseries to buy her

customary annual pot of primroses to grace the kitchen table until it is warm enough to let them loose in the garden; then continued into the forest for a short drive.

Just outside Sway we noticed what seemed like a frisky altercation between two of a

group of ponies on a stretch of moorland cleared of gorse.

On second thoughts they might have been spooked by flying debris

churned out by the tractor engaged in clearing an abundant growth.

We are accustomed to seeing the effects of controlled burning on the gorse, but this is the first time we have seen a tractor used in the process.

By the time Martin’s half-day’s work was done he had most of the sleepers in place and left the area as tidy as always.

This afternoon, following the advice of SueW, I recovered pictures for the following posts:

Road Blocks
Elizabeth Meets Ellie
Broadlands, Breakdown, Burger Bar
One For Tootlepedal

This evening we dined at The Sir John Barleycorn pub in Cadnam. The venue warrants much more than my customary coda, and it is now too late for concentration, so I will feature the event tomorrow.

Mounting The Verge

With a penultimate scanning session today ‘The Old Curiosity Shop’ is almost closing for Charles Keeping’s exquisite illustrations

‘They descended the narrow steps which led into the crypt’. Was the old man here based on Alastair Sim, even though he never made a film about this novel? Here is the trailer for his Scrooge: https://youtu.be/WqbQYsjrDR4

‘Mr Swiveller took another pull at the tankard, and waited for her lead’

‘Kit suffered them to lead him off’

‘During this melancholy pause, the turnkey read his news-paper

‘The gentleman who was against him had to speak first’

‘The pony reared up on his hind legs’

Although the strong winds began somewhat to subside during the day, we were treated to frequent changes of light as sunny periods alternated with violent precipitation; dark clouds with blue skies.

After a shopping trip to Ferndene Farm Shop this afternoon we drove around the lanes for a while.

Sometimes we experienced the changes described above all together.

I only had to swivel on the spot in Thatchers Lane for a very few minutes to acquire these images.

On London Lane Jackie began backing up when coming nose to nose with a monster. Quick as a flash the very young man in the driving seat mounted the verge to allow her space to pass. The tractor’s rear wheels were higher than the Modus.

Most verges sport a proliferation of daffodils, like these on

Charles’s Lane.

This evening we reprised yesterday’s delicious steak pie meal with more of the same beverages.

Hedge Trimming

This morning I produced an A3 print of his choice for the paraglider from “Sunset Dancing”. Now we are back in National Lockdown handover will probably have to wait a while.

In the meantime Jackie photographed the farmer across Christchurch Road trimming his hedge. He didn’t really cause any disruption to traffic, although it was a little tight at times. The owls on our front fence were undisturbed. Note the thriving carpet rose.

Charles Dickens’s ‘Christmas Books’ is definitely a mixed bag. This afternoon I read ‘The Battle of Life – A love story’, first published in 1846. The narrative begins with a lovely bucolic description and a delightful dance giving us hope for joyful times ahead. There follows a rather boring sequence, more poetic word pictures, and a somewhat far-fetched conclusion, all featuring the author’s entertaining wry humour. Christopher Hibbert, in his introduction to my Folio Society edition, describes this ‘slight but dismal tale’ as a version of relationships and events in the author’s own life at this time. That rings true to me.

Beginning with the dance,

Charles Keeping’s wonderfully moving illustrations are as true as ever to the text.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s well-filled flavoursome beef and onion pie; crisp roast potatoes; crunchy carrots, cauliflower, and firm Brussels sprouts, with tasty, meaty, gravy, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank Mendoza Malbec 2019

“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.

A Modern Day Drove

Beneath cloudless cerulean skies we took an early drive into the forest this morning.

A cool breeze blew along sun-dappled lanes like these named

Rodlease

and Church.

At a corner of the latter a tractor ploughed a field some distance from a couple of grazing workhorses within view of adjacent woodland.

Along the road to Beaulieu a number of pools scooped out by generally regular rains have been dry for most of this year, which must be disappointing for

foraging ponies and their foals.

Peering ahead along St Leonard’s Road we discerned that a developing traffic delay had been caused by a modern day cattle drove executed in a more comfortable manner than the cowboys of old by a couple of motorised farmers herding them to their home field fronting the Isle of Wight. At one point I disembarked and attempted to keep pace with the animals while slaloming round splatted pats littering the tarmac. I had no chance of catching them.

Further along the lane a familiar string of ponies trotted on the edge of the verge. The little Shetland had no trouble holding its own.

We carried out a late afternoon watering session before dining on Jackie’s splendid chilli con carne and my plain boiled rice, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Rioja.

Playing With The Big Girls

On a bright, sunny, and warm morning we took a trip to

Everton Nurseries were there was no queue and Jackie was able to buy the elusive trailing petunias. The young man collecting up the discarded trolleys

sanitised the handles of every one.

It was perhaps no coincidence that he was tall enough to have a fair chance of keeping the requisite distance when sanitising the hands of customers needing it.  Most potential purchasers were wearing masks and gloves.

The notice in the centre foreground of the first picture spelt out the outlet’s necessary rules. One can forgive the superfluous apostrophe.

Jackie then drove me into the forest where, on a green on the outskirts of East End, a couple of ponies grazed.

She decanted me on Sowley Lane, along which I walked for half an hour before she followed and picked me up.

We have seen this assorted group of ponies in this vicinity for a good couple of years now.

The little Falabella is still allowed to play with the big girls.

The animals are normally quite comfortable in my company, but on this occasion they showed me a clean pair of hooves and, surprisingly, ran away.

This involved nipping over a pipe that Jackie soon afterwards photographed.

One of the larger ponies balked at the obstacle, and rapidly clattered across the tarmac heading straight for me. This distracted be somewhat as it was now me who had to nip – out of her way.

Off she dashed, mane and tail swishing past me,

to catch up with her equally fearful companions.

Jackie then turned her attention to a pulsing sound emanating from a crop field being irrigated on the opposite side of the road.

Water was being pumped from the lake and passed under the road by means of the pipe shown above.

Having satisfied her curiosity about the pumping sound Jackie turned her attention to the cock pheasant still trying to attract the attention of the hen who appeared to have rejected him earlier.

Next, she photographed me photographing the retreating equines,

then turning to continue on my way, eventually photographing

the car and cyclists seen approaching.

Other cyclists

and a tractor shared the road featuring

the eponymous lake on my left

and, on my right, woodland,

occasionally damp;

fields;

and a few attractive houses and gardens.

This evening we dined on oven fish, baked beans, and Jackie’s home made chips, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank Vina Majestica Rioja reserva 2013.

 

 

Almost Empty

What is the best way to make a trip to the pharmacy exciting?

During pandemic lockdown it is when this is considered an essential journey  and petrol has remained in the tank for weeks.

Off we went this morning to Milford on Sea for that heady pleasure. The establishment’s door was open. Just inside stood a table on which the pre-ordered products were placed by the friendly staff for the masked and gloved Jackie to pick up. There were no other customers behind whom to queue.

I had hoped to walk along the clifftop on the way home, but there was nowhere to park so I settled for the occasional stoppage along a largely deserted road.

For fear of an influx of campers and city dwellers escaping infested metropolises The New Forest District Council along with many others of beauty spots has

sealed off entrances to the forest and beaches like those at Milford and Barton.

Here, a facility in which spaces would be at a premium in such spring sunshine was occupied by one single seated pedestrian.

A locked children’s playground’s attractions stood idle.

Promenades were almost deserted;

this desultory hound appeared to be struggling to keep up.

Hazy spray beset the Isle of Wight and The Needles;

 

waves and spray also beset this side of the Solent,

where beach huts, replaced after the devastation of the storms of February 2014, stood locked.in isolation.

A solitary figure sat in contemplation on staggered steps;

three walkers passed a woman in the process of emptying her pooch.

Turning into Downton Lane we observed a tractor toiling in Roger Cobb’s sun-kissed field.

While Nugget briefly visited his feeder, Burt entertained us with his trapeze act this evening as we dined on Jackie’s wholesome chicken and vegetable soup with crusty sourdough bread, followed by mixed fruit crumble and custard. The Culinary Queen drank Hoegaarden and I continued with the Valreas.

 

“What Are The Effing Chances…..?”

Our forest trip on another bright and sunny day began with

scraping ice off the car.

In a field beside an unnamed lane near Gorley Common

a sleeping pony stood characteristically with one rear foot bent was not the only backlit equine the we were to see.

Ogdens North lies alongside an unmarked muddy lane labeled NO THROUGH ROAD which culminates in a running stream of clear water.

The splendid hillside landscapes were beautifully lit when we arrived there shortly before lunch.

Autumn colour greeted our approach to the lane at the end which I disembarked and clambered over the rough terrain with its

fallen logs slowly rotting into the soil from which it sprang,

and muddy tracks tramped by hoofs of the ponies I was to walk among.

I watched thirst being slaked

by strings of ponies descending the grass covered rocky banks

onto the gravelly stream bed

to drink and dribble crystal clear water.

As I stood, like the ponies, watching an apparently amphibious cross the stream, Jackie also observed the oncoming vehicle with more alarming feelings. It was undoubtedly heading in her direction requiring her to back up the muddy path pictured above. This forced her to abandon focussing on

the pony on the bridge if favour of a snatched shot. “What”, she exclaimed, as she began reversing, “are the effing chances…..?.

The tractor tucked into the side of the road. A large Waitrose delivery van then proceeded down the hill. “What”, she repeated, somewhat increasing the decibels, “are the effing chances….?  The unfortunate driver had taken a wrong turning.

I photographed a few more reflecting ponies before ascending the slope to rejoin Jackie.

Neighbouring field horses enjoyed the warmth of their rugs and breakfasts of bags of hay.

We brunched at Hockey’s farm shop then drove home in time for me to begin drafting this post before Giles collected me and transported me to the bird hide at Milford on Sea.

There we encountered gaggles of winter visiting Brent geese;

a flapping cormorant;

drinking swans;

a wandering little egret;

and the ubiquitous gulls.

As we departed sunset approached, producing vibrant reds and yellows, with pastel tinges

enshrouding the Isle of White and The Needles;

and festooning windows opposite.

Giles had also been out to lunch, so when he stayed on for dinner we all enjoyed pizza and cold meats with fresh salad.

 

 

 

 

An Avian Altercation

The sun made brief appearances during another warm day which we began by driving to Milford Pharmacy to collect repeat prescriptions.

The Needles Loch Ness Monster substitute cast its baleful eye over the proverbial millpond that was the Solent.

A gentleman entertained his frisky barking dogs on the shingle then walked away along the promenade.

We turned up Downton Lane and took a trip into the forest.

I imagine visiting children had enjoyed beavering at dams across the Wootton Bridge stream, even though it is somewhat depleted.

Bracken alongside the road to Burley is beginning to turn golden brown, and is still home to

discarded drink cans.

Donkeys were petted as usual beside The Fighting Cocks at Godshill,

while ponies blended or contrasted with the landscape across the road.

An idle wood pigeon hitched a ride on

one of the thatched pigs wandering across a Sandy Balls roof.

A sturdy Massey Ferguson tractor sent up dust clouds whilst harrowing a recently ploughed field alongside Hordle Lane.

This afternoon, whilst I was engaged in boring administration, Jackie photographed the Westbrook Arbour and its surroundings while Nugget kept her company in his usual helpful manner.

Occasionally spreading his wings he darted after prey;

after due investigation he decided against diving into watered holes;

he perched on trugs and watering cans;

and presented silhouettes from above.

And, of course, he posed for “Where’s Nugget?” (24)

Just before Jackie returned indoors, she witnessed a violent altercation between two robins in a hebe. One was sent packing. We hope it wasn’t Nugget.

This evening we dined at Lal Quilla where the greeting was as friendly and the food and service as excellent as ever. My main course was king prawn Ceylon; Jackie’s was chicken Hariyali; we shared a plain paratha, mushroom rice, and Tarka Dal; and both drank Kingfisher.