In charge

Trying to keep her grandmother under control when out for a walk along Manor Green Road. And she failed to make it to the ducks.

Fake 59

Complicated fake at the Talbot Arms, the Devon public house mentioned in the previous post.

I failed to compute from where we were sitting, but BH got it right. Striped wallpaper with the little boards hung off it. Note also the table, bottom right. Perhaps they went to the same stressed wood warehouse as the people at Rossopomodoro and Prezzo. See reference 1.

Not a place with big black beams, but perhaps rebuilt or substantially refurbished a hundred years or so ago on an older foundation? More recently tricked out with sheds for holiday makers out back. Still a good pub out front.

Reference 1: https://psmv3.blogspot.com/2018/03/fake-26.html.

Reference 2: https://www.talbotarms.com/.

Group search key: lra.

Honiton

Started the day with black pudding sandwiches at the Royal Lion. Still learning how not to get croissant all over the table while I wait for the main business. No white rolls, de rigueur in such places when I was young. Black pudding fine, white bread adequate.

Then the scenic route to Honiton, the result of taking the wrong turning out of Lyme Regis. But not a problem as we got to see some interesting country. That is to say across the southern, low lying stretch of the Axe Valley, below Axminster. An area prone to flooding, but the roads people had thoughtfully provided flood poles which told one how deep the puddles were, so one knew when it was time to reverse back up the lane.

Then just beyond Whitford, a large collection of large green sheds, which turned out to be the Lyme Bay Winery of reference 1. A lovingly hand-crafted country wine to suit every pocket. Then just beyond the sheds, the more or less derelict Seaton Junction railway station. A large group of buildings on one side of the road, with what looks like a large house on the other side, possibly the inn alleged on the map.

Seaton Junction railway station

Former public house?

The crest on the front chimney suggested that it had not always been a private house. Maybe a hotel and public house combined, from the glory days of Seaton as a seaside resort, when the junction no doubt throbbed with holiday maker life. Now sufficiently quiet that Google Street View is sometimes unavailable.

Gate to Shute Barton

Onto the old gatehouse 'to what is left of a great medieval and Tudor house known as Shute Barton', the former now operated by the Landmark Trust, the latter by the National Trust. Confusingly in a village called Wilmington; at least it tool me a while to track down reference 2.

Worn stone

Took tea and chocolate biscuits in the café which has been cut out of the nave of the large church in the centre of Honiton. Entertainment provided by a very cheerful lady who had moved into the area with her brass band flavoured husband from Bolton, up north. She still had a fairly strong northern accent after twenty years, although she said that her younger relatives still up there think that she sounded posh, presumable up north for down south. We wondered whether there was a military connection, but did not think to ask.

On leaving, surprised to see how worn the stone trim was outside. For a church less than two hundred years. What will it be like in another two hundred?

For once drew a blank at York Books.

No dogs

For once drew a blank at the Wetherspoon's, the Star, which has a no dog policy, which surprised us out in the country. Is it a national policy or did they get fed up with all the country people taking their muddy dogs in?

Instead to the JK Bistro for a veggie lunch, in the form of a goats cheese and something risotto. Rather good, rather like a savoury version of a rice pudding. Risotto not being something that I take very often, finding it of very variable quality. See reference 3.

Staff, of whom we saw half a dozen or so, were entirely female, but we were assured that they had taken on a token male to help out on Friday evenings. While next to us there was a couple who were into outdoor sketching, using very natty little portable painting kits about the size of a small paperback. The gent. showed me a small water colour brush which came complete with a water cartridge, rather like a cartridge pen, with the water both serving to work up the paint and to wash the paint off the brush when one had finished. Not seen such things since my wood engraving uncle used to use a similar kit when doing pen and wash sketches outdoors, for possible working up into something grander back home.

Back to the hotel to take a light siesta, then out to Uplyme Village Hall in the evening to hear the Accordia String Quartet, an amateur quartet consisting of three Rowlands (violins and viola) and a Best (cello). Not to be confused with the Accordi String Quartet of reference 4. While I see from reference 5 that quartets in this sector of the music market seem to be mainly female affairs, like the bistro noticed above.

We were given a Haydn Quartet, a Bach double violin concerto, a Mozart divertimento, followed, after the interval, by favourite tunes. Winding up with Delius, whom I now know to be a boy from up north, although he went onto to spend most of his life in France. I had thought he was French!

The quartet told us that they were very fond of the Haydn Quartets, which they played for their own pleasure, now being on their second pass through the hundred or so of them. And I learned about a little contraption, the sensor of which you clipped onto your bridge, which told you whether a string was properly tuned or not. Flashing red light for not. Handy when you were tuning up against significant background noise.

Tea and biscuits in the interval - proper village hall tea made with water from a Burco boiler - and cupcakes from Sprinkles of reference 6 for those who wanted them. Afterwards, I think we wound up back at the bar at the Royal Lion, having done the Talbot Arms in the village before the off. Rather better wine glasses there than at the Royal Lion, with properly thin rims, although the wine itself was not as good.

PS: reminded of the limitations of the Internet. No trouble finding lots of people who sell Burco boilers, but I failed to track down the people who make the things. Are they really made in China now, but with great care taken to make sure that we don't find out? Not good for the brand.

Reference 1: https://www.lymebaywinery.co.uk/.

Reference 2: https://www.landmarktrust.org.uk/search-and-book/properties/shute-gatehouse-12083.

Reference 3: http://www.jksbistro.co.uk/.

Reference 4: https://www.accordiquartet.com/.

Reference 5: https://www.bandsforhire.net/devon-string-quartets.

Reference 6: https://www.sprinklecupcakes.co.uk/.

Group search key: lra.

Trolley 225

Captured at the start of the ramp leading to Station Approach, but I thought I would snap it against the rubbish behind Ashmore Insurance. Maybe I will get around to dealing with the Sainbury's trolley behind one day - bearing in mind that removing trolleys from private property is against the rules.

Stocks of brick dates looked very low in Grape Tree when I passed. Maybe I should be stocking up against a disorderly exit from Europe? BH tells me that the last time this sort of thing was going on was at the time of the great Millennium Bug scare.

One Porsche Panamera, spotted twice. Maybe uncertain about where best to park. Bing tells me that I might pay £80,000 for such a vehicle - which, leaving aside the fact that the car is not very suitable for our purposes, the price is maybe eight times our motor budget. But the price is clearly right for someone in the Epsom area.

Later on, lots of crows and magpies between Sainsbury's and one possible sparrow. Two possible thrushes in the bushes at the bottom of Longmead Road. No sign of the egret.

Ventilation

Last year, at the event noticed at reference 1, I heard Shaun Fitzgerald talk about ventilating buildings and I learned about his company (reference 2), from whom architects and engineers can buy wisdom about such matters.

This morning, passing the building snapped left, a building I have probably walked past hundreds of times, I noticed that it had substantial ventilation panels at pavement level and that the strange towers on top, reminding me of oast houses in Kent, were something to do with ventilation too. Perhaps the builders had bought some of aforementioned wisdom.

The building presently being occupied by some branch of the National Health Service.

PS: in the version on my laptop, the snap of the building has a strong aura of white, possibly some artefact of my telephone. But it is just the same as the aura which Holman Hunt gave the down turn of the cliffs in his painting 'Our English Coasts', a copy of which hangs in our dining room, and the original of which can sometimes be seen in Tate Britain - last time I asked, it was in storage somewhere. Sadly, the aura is rather clearer in the dining room than it is on the laptop, but nevertheless, Holman Hunt was a very careful painter, admired by the French Impressionists for his ability to capture the effects of light, so perhaps the aura is not just an artefact of the telephone. See reference 3.

Reference 1: https://psmv3.blogspot.com/2018/06/hot-air.html.

Reference 2: https://www.breathingbuildings.com/.

Reference 3: https://www.tate.org.uk/art/artworks/hunt-our-english-coasts-1852-strayed-sheep-n05665.

Week ten (b)

Two of the thirty or so florets that have separated out are not fully open. Rather pretty in the bright morning sunlight.

Group search key: tfd.

Week ten (a)

The bend is better than it was a week ago, but will the inflorescence ever completely straighten up, after its accident?

Group search key: tfd.