Shots For Scale

Jackie and Nugget continued planting and bed making this morning while I cleared up some of the debris. Our little robin has even begun to get under my feet. He has begun to think ahead and, knowing where we are likely to go, arrives there before us. He only has to see me scoop up a trug full of clippings and he will be awaiting my arrival at the compost heap.

The normal size bricks in this photograph indicate what a diminutive creature he is. With secateurs in hand Jackie needs to be careful not to amputate anything.

Now, “Where’s Nugget?” (32).

Jackie plonked these starlike allium seed heads for their decorative quality.

Elsewhere we have plenty of varieties of dahlia; yellow self-seeded bidens;

flaming sedums;

delicate fuchsias;

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

pretty petunias;

roses, such as magnificent Mama Mia,

pure white Winchester Cathedral,

and blousy Schoolgirl,

all still keeping company with planted urns in the Rose Garden.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vibrant splashes of colour enhance garden views such as this one across the lawn with its basket hanging from the eucalyptus, petunias in the chimney pot, and Japanese anemones on the far side;

the stepping stones across the Cryptomeria Bed with its Michaelmas daisies and clematis scaling the arch that spans the Phantom Path;

the Gazebo Path, again sporting a clematis in its third flush, hanging baskets, and more.

The Patio Bed gloried in the morning sunlight.

Before lunch we took a short drive into the east of the forest.

Autumn leaves clung to damp fungus.

on the verges of Lower Sandy Down where the Modus puts the width of the winding lane into perspective.

While a curious field horse looked on

I photographed the opposite landscape where freer equine cousins could be glimpsed in the distance.

Further on a woman walking her dog provided a further shot for scale.

This afternoon I watched the recording of the World Cup rugby match between South Africa and Italy.

This evening we dined on succulent pork chops; crisp roast potatoes, one sweet; crunchy carrots, and tender cabbage and runner beans, all flavoured by tasty gravy. Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Fleurie.

 

Yellow Ticket

The storm, having filled the deepest ditches, and extended the pools on the fields and the roads, had desisted this morning when we began the day with a shopping trip to Tesco. This supermarket, like all the other home-grown ones, is feeling the squeeze from the Germans, Lidl and Aldi. There were notices everywhere announcing cheaper brands.

Tree in waterlogged fieldWaterlogged field

By midday the dull weather had evaporated into clear blue sunlit skies. After lunch I walked up Hordle Lane, right into Sky End Lane, left into Vicarage Lane, and left again, returning home back along Hordle Lane. I was lucky, for the rain set in soon afterwards.

Drink container in ditchDitch and shadow

Discarded detritus now floated in ochre waters of the ditches which I photographed with my back to the warming sun.

Hordle Lane 1Hordle Lane 2JoggerPoniesWoman walking dogPools glinted on the lanes and reflected the trees and skies above. A jogger ran past the paddock in which the ponies chomped on their fodder. Later he returned in the opposite direction, possibly eventually passing a woman and her exotic looking dog glowing in the sunlight, and casting long shadows.

 

Cars running through poolSome vehicles sped through the pools on the tarmac, sending up showers of water; others slowed and sprayed a little.

Tree reflectedSmall birdsOn Vicarage Lane, which enjoyed numerous reflective puddles, I engaged in conversation with a friendly woman tending her garden. She had noticed me attempting to photograph small birds in her trees. We didn’t know what they were, but they were attracted by nuts she had hung up for her visiting tits, siskins, and a solitary woodpecker.

Blackbird

Blackbirds scurried in the hedgerows.

All Saints ChurchGravestones

At the corner of Vicarage and Hordle Lanes, lies the Parish Church of All Saints, Hordle. Shafts of gleaming sunlight illuminated the sleepy resting place of former parishioners.

Jackie’s matured liver and bacon casserole was enhanced by the discrete taste of fresh mushrooms and peppers for tonight’s dinner. They were accompanied by prime mashed potato, and crisp cabbage, carrots and cauliflower, then followed by Tesco’s finest Belgian chocolate choux buns. Our dessert was purchased this morning at half price. Such is the UK’s obsession with ‘best before’, ‘use by’, and ‘sell by’ dates, that supermarkets cannot sell goods beyond whichever of these phrases appears the most relevant. Neither, for fear of lawsuits for food poisoning, are they able to give them away. They therefore do the next best thing and reduce the price. Our buns bore the legend ‘use by’ today. Had we purchased them later in the day, they would probably have been even cheaper. In this particular outlet you can recognise reduced items by their yellow ticket.

We each drank the same beverage as yesterday.