(THE TITLE IS THE RESULT OF AN ERROR ON MY PART. AS SEVERAL COMMENTERS HAVE POINTED OUT, MY ASPIDISTRA IS A PLUMBAGO. AH, WELL, IT GAVE AN OPPORTUNITY TO INTRODUCE GRACIE FIELDS. I WON’T CORRECT MY TEXT, BECAUSE THE JOKE IS NOW ON ME, BUT THANKS ARE DUE TO ALL MY EDITORS 🙂
Even though today was Easter Sunday, and the weather was blustery and showery with occasional sunshine, Aaron and Robin finished weeding the gravel paths in the garden.
This afternoon I scanned the penultimate batch of Barbados negatives from March 2004.
These were the last few from the Bridgetown walk and the first from around the Sugar Cane Club hotel to which we transferred when realised that our initial choice, at the southernmost tip of the island, was so far from Port St Charles where Sam would be ending his epic row.
I would be grateful if anyone could identify this rather magnificent tree with its root tentacles.
Here are some more roadside dwellings, both fixed and chattel examples, all with beautifully rusting corrugated iron roofs;
and, naturally, bougainvillea,
I couldn’t identify these flowers.
I also learned that Gracie Fields’s claim for her brother Joe was probably rather dubious.
Their aspidistra couldn’t have been as big as this one.
Our new hotel, near the shores of the Atlantic, was well equipped with sun loungers.
The Ocean itself bore out Homer’s description of the ‘wine-dark sea’.
This evening we dined on roast duck; roast potatoes; colourful and crunchy carrots, broccoli and Brussels sprouts; and gravy so full of goodies as to accommodate a standing spoon. Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I finished one bottle of the madiran and poured a glass from the next, with which I will continue now.