July 2016 – Page 3 – derrickjknight

Hammock And Hollyhock

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This morning we shopped at Lidl, mainly to load up the car with more of their large bags of compost. Quite a number of the on the heap outside the store were damaged and leaking. Some fell on stony ground.

So popular was the photograph of Sam in the hammock from yesterday’s post that I scanned the rest of the set of colour slides made in August 1981. Matthew was wonderful with his younger siblings.

Here, his and Sam’s enjoyment of time in the hammock at Meldreth is quite clear.

Mat’s friend Adrian was of similar ilk.

No, this hollyhock has not crept in from our current garden 35 years on. It was taken along with these others. Does its progeny still soar from the sunlit borders of ‘The Dumb Flea’? (the Drapers’ home where these shots were made).

Here in Downton we have experienced very strong winds for two or three days. These have dried up the hanging baskets and broken a few stems. Jackie therefore has been taking a few down. She continued this today, and I did some watering.

This evening we dined on a second helping of Hordle Chinese Take Away. We now know the proprietor’s name is Chan, which is a pity because Mister Chatty Man suits him so well. I finished the Carignan Vieilles Vignes and Jackie drank her Hoegaarden and Bavaria mix. Well, she had to do something with the non-alcoholic beer bought by mistake.

Spoiler Alert

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We were both reprieved from gardening duties this morning by the rain.

I scanned a few more colour slides from 1981/2.

Here Sam enjoys swinging in a hammock at the Drapers’ home in Meldreth near Royston in Cambridgeshire. This was August 1981.

In December that year we had a rare heavy fall of snow in Gracedale Road, Furzedown, South London. Matthew and Becky made the best of it. That was probably the only time in their childhoods that it was possible to create such a magnificent snowman.

Another Cambridgeshire venue was the home of Nigel and Judy Pearson at Pastures farmhouse in Caxton. At a Christmas party there, Sam tucked into his first pheasant. I remember biting a piece of shot. This was also the first time I had sampled such fare.

In September 1982 we spent a couple of weeks at the Vachettes’ chateau at Fontaine in Normandy.

This is the garden in which Jessica basks in a deckchair with Arnoux, Marie-Helene, and the Vachette parents. As can be seen by the colour of the grass this was a very hot autumn.

Lying at Jessica’s feet

is Louisa in her carrycot;

while Sam enjoys the toys she will soon grow into.

This afternoon the sun shone, not only here in Downton, but also in Wimbledon where a tense Gentlemen’s Final took place. I watched it on television.

I will not reveal the winner, but his wife looks on.

Afterwards I wandered around the garden, doing some sporadic dead-heading, whilst Jackie watered some more hanging baskets

containing petunias, mimuluses and lobelia.

She also slaked the the thirst of this urn containing petunias, trailing geraniums, and bidens, with penstemons at the side,

suspended in the Rose Garden.

The hydrangea at the corner of Elizabeth’s Bed is thriving;

as are the lilies and clematises in the New Bed;

and the hebes are coming into bloom.

This evening we dined on Mister Chatty Man’s Hordle Chinese Take Away. Jackie drank a blend of Hoegaarden and Bavaria non-alcoholic beer, while I consumed more of the Carignan Vieilles Vignes.

No. 22

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This morning I cut the grass.

This afternoon I watched a thrilling televised Wimbledon Ladies Final.

Angelique Kerber was a worthy loser who was in the end unable to counteract the Serena Williams serve.

Much had been said about the possibility of Serena’s equalling Steffi Graf’s open era record of 22 Grand Slam wins today.

She did.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s excellent chicken jalfrezi, boiled rice, and parathas. Neither of us drank anything.

Baskets And Pots

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On an overcast day I alternated between watering hanging baskets and pots, dead heading, and watching the television coverage of the men’s semi-finals at Wimbledon. I would pop outside at what seemed reasonable intervals in the matches, fill a few cans, water a few containers, and return to the TV hoping I hadn’t missed anything too crucial. This proved rather more risky in the first event.

Here I present a small token selection of the recipients of the water:

Readers will find examples of petunia, lobelia, pansy, bidens, clematis, sweet pea, geranium, mimulus, diascia, and no doubt many more.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s delicious chicken jalfrezi and boiled rice, followed by Helen’ rich chocolate roulade. The Culinary Queen drank diet Pepsi and I began an intriguing wine curiosity. This was present from Helen and Bill; a label called Rare Vineyards; a red wine, Carignan vieilles vignes (old vines), 2015. It is enjoyable.

Remembering 7/7

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We have a number of hanging baskets around the kitchen doors.

This one contains fuchsia Blue Angel;

here clematis Warsaw Nike, from its pot clambers up to another containing petunias and lobelia. The white pot contains apple mint, and borage occupies the bed.

Nearby, bidens blooms.

The New Bed is now taking on its summer garb. Fuchsia, dahlias, lilies, clematises, and solanum are all in evidence.

As it is my birthday today, I received a lot of messages. Some of these were texts. For the last couple of months anyone trying to phone me on the mobile when I am at home has not been able to receive a reply and has been sent straight to voicemail. I have then received a text saying I have a voice message which I have not been able to access.

I have refrained from boring readers with this, but today I decided to visit O2 in Christchurch in an attempt to resolve the issue. The problem seemed to have been a faulty SIM card. This was changed, and hopefully things will have improved.

While the O2 man was fetching the new card I reflected on another birthday when I could receive no signal on the mobile phone. This was the day of the London Underground suicide bombs. I is hard to believe that was 11 years ago.

This afternoon we enjoyed, within minutes of each other, visits from Helen and from Shelly and Ron They came bearing gifts. Including Bill, each couple had brought a birthday card and presents of wine and a book, and we drank sparkling squashes on the hand-made garden chairs, of which we now have four, and one, otherwise relegated, perfectly serviceable in black plastic.

An additional gift from Helen and Bill was an intriguing bookmark, made of cork, that they had brought back from Portugal.

Ian and Becky’s present to me was a meal for the four of us at Lal Quilla. This was great fun, particularly as the staff entered so well into the spirit of the occasion. My choice of a main meal was Purple Tiger (a king prawn dish) and special fried rice. We shared onion bahjis, parka dahl, and an egg paratha. Becky drank red wine and the rest of us drank Kingfisher.

At the end the head waiter sang happy birthday and brought me a ‘cake’.

Spinners Garden

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This morning, after a brief time in our own garden where

The Head Gardener has been replenishing and planting the beds either side of the Heligan Path;

sunlight brightened the Star of India clematis on the Gothic Arch;

and another example was suspended from the prunus pissardi above the orange hawkweed,

Jackie drove us to Spinners Garden at Boldre. This small privately-owned garden has a fine collection of rare plants in its tranquil woodland setting

overlooking the Lymington Valley.

Jackie was immediately taken with the blue cranesbill geraniums along the drive.

Although past their best, the rhododendron and azalea shrubberies still had much to offer.

Paths off the entrance drive held much promise.

There were different varieties of lace cap hydrangea;

many different ferns;

well stocked flower beds,

including a cornus controverta Variegata, or wedding cake tree,

and schizostylis or, if you must, Kaffir lily.

Other cornuses were plentiful.

Splendid trees soared above the shrubberies, where

camellia fruit pods glistened;

and in the shadier areas leaves of brunnera

and acer formed intriguing patterns.

Steps led up to the highest level,

where rodgersia shared their bed with wild orchids,

and white azaleas bore occasional signs of pink parentage.

Fed by a man-made stream

at a lower level lies a lily pond spanned by a wooden bridge.

Irises rise from the margins,

and damselflies and water boatmen flit around the lily pads.

From the cabin where we could buy tea and coffee, we watched gulls mobbing a tractor digging out soil to create a lake for a neighbour further down the slopes.

Aquilegias waved us farewell as we walked back to the car.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s delicious chicken jalfrezi, boiled rice, and parathas, followed by Helen’s sublime lime and ginger cheesecake.

Focus On The Back Drive

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While Jackie continued her creative magic in the garden, and between televised tennis sessions, I wandered around admiring the fruits of her labours, and, of course photographing them.

We have a number of different day lilies;

and the first water lily has now bloomed on the tiny cistern pond.

An astilbe thrives in the shady western bed.

In the Rose Garden Penny Lane adorns the potting shed,

And Margaret Merrill hosts a miniature beetle drive.

Looking through the Back Drive barrier towards the Rose Garden, I noticed a robin perched on the mid-way arch.

It flitted off, so I stalked it for a while.

The barrier provides a floral frame for the drive,

which is now bordered by full length planting.

Poppies,

snapdragons,

and achillea, are just a few examples.

Naturally there are also hanging baskets, better lit in the afternoon.

This evening we dined on fried eggs, bacon, tomatoes, and mushrooms; baked beans and toast. Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank Gilbert & Gaillard Châteauneuf du Pape 2014. Well, why not?

An Edwardian Wedding

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In ‘Tales From The Window Sills’, I featured Jackie’s heirlooms from her maternal grandparents’ wedding.

Alfred and Alice, née Perry, O’Connell were,of course, also Pat O’Connell’s grandparents. I made a copy of the wedding photograph from the sepia print, taken more than 100 years ago somewhere in North London, for Jackie’s cousin. The railings behind the bride and groom would be very unlikely to help us in identifying the venue, for most of such iron was commandeered for munitions in the Second World War.

This glass case contains the bride’s headdress, her corsage, and the cake decorations. Orange blossom, symbolic of both fertility and chastity, features in both headbands and cake decorations. Before this memento came into Jackie’s possession it also held one of Alice’s white kid gloves, which unfortunately rotted away.

When he left yesterday morning Pat forgot to take the photograph, and I failed to remind him as he had asked. We therefore posted it today. On our return home from Hordle Post Office I realised that I had left the card bearing Pat’s address and other details on the counter. So back we went for it. The teller fished it out of her waste bin and Sellotaped it back together again.

This evening we joined Elizabeth, Danni, and Andy at the Jalfrezy Indian restaurant in Totton. The establishment failed the poppadom test, but the rest of the food was good and plentiful. My choice was king prawn jalfrezi with egg fried rice. Although Jackie enjoyed her sag ponir, it was made with cheddar cheese. Mushroom and cauliflower bhajis were shared. I drank Cobra and Jackie drank Goa beers. They were slow in presenting the bill, but friendly enough.

PS. Helen has come up with this: https://www.google.co.uk/maps/uv?hl=en&pb=!1s0x48761b5d091f5529%3A0x19bec7f8b12f9c13!2m5!2m2!1i80!2i80!3m1!2i100!3m1!7e115!4shttps%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Flh%2Fsredir%3Funame%3D112169914510915322816%26id%3D5881178758934379778%26target%3DPHOTO!5sst%20john%20the%20evangelist%20roman%20catholic%20church%20islington%20-%20Google%20Search&imagekey=!1e2!2s4HKq9TK5cly06nVDMPlSkg&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwjJzLW_4-TNAhVpSZoKHR-YBWgQoioIdjAK

It shows the church. She suggests they crossed the road for the photograph taken against the railings.

‘Behind You!’

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This afternoon, we took a drive through the forest. Being the tourist season, there was much traffic, including cyclists, on the road.

On the way into Brockenhurst, a pony trotted elegantly ahead of a car, until it obligingly stepped onto the grass verge and allowed the vehicles to continue on their way.

A string of ponies by Whitemoor Pond attracted both me and a family of visitors.

First the children attempted to involve the creatures in a game of football;

then a young woman tempted them with slices of bread.

I did my best to indicate that this wasn’t a good idea, but we didn’t speak the same language, however,

the equine teeth got the message across.

It was then that I heard Jackie crying ‘behind you!’ I turned around with some trepidation. This was no pantomime.

Behind me, cooling off and slaking their thirst, were two Highland cattle.

I wondered how they could see through their fringes.

They commandeered the pond;

another loner joined in;

and a fourth, with number five on its way across the road, gave the ponies second thoughts about reclaiming the pond.

Having battled along a pitted track of Ringwood Road, we stopped for a drink at High Corner Inn,

where ponies in the car park

were being fed carrots by a chef who told me that the animals congregate under the kitchen extractor vent because it keeps the flies off them.

Near Frogham, a pregnant female donkey with two foals escorted by a large pony temporarily blocked the road.

At least one of the infants seemed confused about its parentage.

Back home, my choice of the goodies superfluous to yesterday’s feast was Coronation chicken and rice, with which I drank McGuigan Bin 578 merlot 2015. Jackie drank Hoegaarden with various other items.

Our First Open Day

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Last night I had several attempts at photographing Jackie’s garden solar lights. She had one preference; I had another.

Only the brave need indicate their favourite.

Knowing the weather would soon change, I took advantage of the early sunshine to wander around the garden and take a few pictures.

On the front trellis clematis Mrs N. Thompson has joined solanum;

on the edge of the patio fragrant Asiatic lilies blend with petunias;

and poppy plunderers have hind legs like Popeye’s forearms.

We were joined for lunch by Jackie’s two sisters, their husbands, and cousins Pat, Christine, and Olivia.

Jackie laid out the buffet food she had prepared yesterday on the table,

and cooked a marvellous mushroom soup.

After several platefuls, and a fairly wide variety of alcoholic beverages, the sun having emerged after rain, we had a tour of the garden.

Our guests trooped from the patio past the kitchen;

admired the wisteria pergola;

and took the Gazebo Path.

Shelly brought her coffee with her.

Passing Florence at Fiveways

the group admired the Rose Garden;

on her return along the Brick Path Helen paused to savour the scent of Wedding Day.

It seems reasonable to consider this our first Open Day.

Christine and Olivia left early in the evening. Helen, Bill, Shelly and Ron remained a while longer, and Pat stayed the night. ( Actually, I took a chance in posting this before Helen and Bill departed. They also stayed the night ).

We all had a second go at the buffet and beverages.