Between further bouts of dis-tressing Félicité Perpétue I checked on the current condition of the rest of the garden.
In the meantime Jackie continued her weeding and clearing, leaving offerings for me to transport to the compost bin.
This climbing Cobaea Scandens, or Cup and Saucer plant is now blooming on the kitchen wall near one of the many
petunia and pelargonium planters,
all of which have perked up nicely since the storm. The ornamental grass in the first image of this pair,
like the Addams Family’s Cousin It, has returned to its righted perch.
A number of fuchsias, like Delta’s Sarah in the first of this triptych, Mrs Popple, and Garden News, have benefited from the rain
which has given this Absolutely Fabulous example pink spots, caused Alan Titchmarsh to flag a bit, refreshed Crown Princess Margareta, and kept the red climber bent over.
Nicotiana Sylvestris stands proud,
as do hollyhocks; Japanese anemones remain abundant; black eyed Susan cascades down the chimney pot; and kniphofia penetrates the gap between wooden chair struts.
We are wondering whether to replace this rather struggling little lawn with some York stone paving. Otherwise I might have to mow it before it gets out of hand.
After lunch Jackie bagged up my further rose clippings, then took over the pruning. The hard, woody, old stems we have now reached are not suitable for composting.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s toothsome cottage pie; additional fried potatoes; tender cabbage and kale; with crunchy carrots and cauliflower and tasty, meaty, gravy, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank Flores de Seligmar Rioja 2018.
Early this bright, sunny, and cool day we drove out to Pilley to deliver a letter to Elizabeth. I popped it into her letter box and we continued on our way.
I have a couple of times before featured the horse and pony occupying the garden of Jordan’s Cottage on the corner of Bull and Jordan’s Lanes. Today I was to be formally introduced. As I photographed the two equines feeding from their trough a Gentleman planting flowers invited me in. This was Roderick, whose granddaughter owns these creatures. The horse is Foxglove and the pony, Twinkle.
Given her freckles, Foxglove is so aptly named. She is an eventer who is convalescing while recovering from and injured back leg. Roderick confirmed that the mask is for protection from flies. Seeing me back away as the horses trotted over to me when I entered the small paddock, he assured me that they were very friendly. I laughed and explained that I was not afraid but had to keep my distance to use the lens on my camera. In fact I left the paddock to take the shots of Foxglove in her mask. It would, of course, have been rude not to have photographed Twinkle’s eye.
On Norleywood Road we passed trick cyclist who probably wasn’t a psychiatrist. This was to have been on our way home until Jackie took a diversion down
Lower Pennington Lane to investigate the nature reserve at the far end.
Hurst View camping site was packed out and I could hear voices planning their day’s trips all the way down the lane along which I walked while Jackie waited in the car, parked on a verge just before a considerable narrowing of the thoroughfare.
Even cyclists had little passing room.
The marshland to my left was quite dry and occupied by a few basking ponies. The Isle os Wight could be seen in the distance.
When I reached the entrance to the bird sanctuary it seemed that the caravan site was decanting its entire contents who were making their way along the dedicated path which I consequently decided to eschew and set off across undulating terrain which I largely had to myself. I took the last section of the path on my return and I have to say that the boys in the third picture above thanked me for stepping aside.
In the circumstances it is hardly surprising that the only birds I saw were flocks of Canada geese,
occasionally joined by others flying in.
Against the backdrop of the Isle of Wight, The Needles, Hurst castle and their lighthouses, across the marshland could be seen walkers, cyclists and a dog. Particularly the last of this gallery would benefit from bigification.
A few goats occupied a field opposite the campsite.
After lunch I put in another stint at pruning Félicité Perpétue in the front garden.
Later this afternoon Elizabeth came for a cup of tea and stayed for dinner consisting of another of Jackie’s succulent cottage pies; crunchy carrots and cauliflower; tender cabbage; and meaty gravy, with which the Culinary Queen drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Carles.
This morning we righted the fallen pots in the garden before visiting Ferndene Farm Shop where
Jackie joined the masked queue. I have her word that she was smiling in the last picture.
The shopping went quite smoothly. Afterwards we took a drive into the forest by way of
Holmsley Passage which was already becoming quite busy.
Heather enhanced the moorland landscape and the vibrant verges.
Other vehicles, walkers, and cycling groups needed to be negotiated.
As we reached the end of this narrow, winding, lane this family group who we had allowed to go ahead hadn’t yet decided which way to go. Left would have taken them to Burley; right was the road to Brockenhurst; straight on was the route to Bisterne Close. Jackie decided she would go one of the ways they didn’t. They went straight on; we turned right and stopped at
the pool on the way up Clay Hill. Jackie parked by the roadside while I wandered around photographing the water, the reflections, the woodland, and its shadows. I found a metal dog tag with a local phone number stamped on it. I phoned the owner and left a message explaining where I would lodge it.
After this we thought that Bisterne Close might have been clear of the cyclists and wended our way back there where ponies, their foals, and cattle happily shared the road.
Another group of ponies were not about to cede ground to the motor vehicle. One driver left his car and attempted to clap them out of the way. They must have thought they were being applauded, for they didn’t budge. Cajoling had no better effect; the car horn was tried next. Eventually the unspoken message “go round us” was heeded.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s classic cottage pie; pleasantly chewy curly kale; and crunchy carrots with which she drank Beck’s and I drank Carles Priorat 2016.
Yesterday evening’s meal at Lal Quilla was a real treat. It really was rather crowded, but there was enough room for social distancing to be maintained. We were greeted as old friends by Raj, the manager, like his staff sporting a mask. After the long lockdown we had imagined that there would be a new staff group, but at least one of the old team recognised us, although, as I said to him, we could not recognise him behind his face covering. Despite how busy they were, they all remained both friendly and efficient.
The food was, if anything, even better than usual. My naga lamb was lean and tender with hot and complex flavours; Jackie enjoyed her butter chicken; and we shared an egg paratha, mushroom rice, and sag bhaji. Unfortunately the staff couldn’t get the draft Kingfisher to work, so we both drank bottled Cobra.
Between occasional peeking of the sun we experienced regular rain showers. Like most of us, Félicité Perpétue has been unable to attend the hairdressers for some months, and was
in need of a good cut
During the drier spells I tried my hand at trichology and administered a trim. Chopped up for adding to the compost I filled two barrowloads and transported them to the bin. There is still much to be done, and at least I can get into the car now.
Jackie carried out a similar exercise in the Rose Garden.
This evening we dined on juicy fillet steak; fried onions, mushrooms and tomatoes; boiled new potatoes; firm carrots and cauliflower, with tasty gravy. Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Chateauneuf du Pape.
Knowing that we were to expect another leaden afternoon of rain Jackie spent a couple of hours in the garden setting gale damage to rights. I joined her and transported some refuse to the compost while chronicling the event. This was before we visited Mum in Woodpeckers.
Our mother, sporting another of her best outfits was on good form. She got the joke when, after the carer came to warn us that we had another four minutes, I said that would be enough for her to run a mile. This puzzled the carer, so I added “like Roger Bannister”. She was still puzzled but laughed anyway. Of course, the first four minute miler was Derek Ibbotson, but I wasn’t sure Mum would know that.
After lunch I set about drafting the garden report.
Although I focussed on some of damage, like this pot and its contents blown of its brick plinth,
there were plenty of undamaged plants like these two varieties of dahlia.
Although a few gladioli had succumbed, others had stood firm.
Lilies, including the ginger variety in the second of these images, have survived.
The Brick Path won’t even need sweeping.
I picked up a fallen owl and replaced it on its perch beside another toppled pot.
The owl above was perched at one end of the Pond Bed, the rest of which was undamaged.
The Rose Garden didn’t fare quite so well.
Here Jackie indicates the damage to the top of one of the twin planters, which also lost its pot of petunias. The other stand was not damaged but its blooms were battered a bit.
The sweet peas were dragged down and the blooms shredded; some rose stems were bent over, so Jackie decided to give them their autumn hair-cut. Mamma Mia in the second picture here is quite intact.
Here is one of the trugloads I emptied.
The gauras and some clematis clung to life;
although one obelisk slipped a bit. Many pelargoniums remained reasonably intact.
Some views like these of the lawn bed, from the Dragon Bed towards Mistletoe Cottage;
and down the Gazebo Path are unimpaired.
This pot slipped off its plinth in the front garden, but its pelargoniums,
like other plants, such as Japanese anemones were unbroken.
Once again our garden has largely resisted the elements.
I have struggled with an intermittent internet connection throughout the drafting of this post, and we are on our way to our first lockdown-easing meal at Lal Quilla. If I find we have no internet when we return I may descend into a rant, so the restaurant meal will feature tomorrow.
Early this morning we made a trip to Setley Ridge Vineyard in order to buy birthday presents for Shelly. Jackie did the masked up shopping while I sat in the car until I noticed
the blighted oak on site. This tragic giant had been brought down in last week’s gales. The good fortune was that this huge branch was ripped out at midnight when there was no-one about. Just one display table and a section of the fence where the weight came to rest was damaged. The staff are convinced that the stone elephant visible in the sixth and seventh gallery pictures had been standing guard.
We continued an a forest drive. Visitors had begun to explore the stretch of
Highland Water at Balmer Lawn. The boy in the last two pictures had spotted the caves in the bank on the other side; he stepped gingerly across the pebbles carrying cars with which to enjoy a game of garages.
The oaks here had also lost a few branches, and their acorns dropped early.
We noticed a number of foals on our journey; both ponies and donkeys, one of which, beside Exbury Road, was being suckled by a mother who didn’t look big enough.
This pony and trap on Inchmere Lane, leading to Lepe Beach, pulled over to allow us to pass. When I suggested driving on ahead so I could wait for a better full frontal shot my Chauffeuse, commenting that they would then have to pull over for us again, indicated that she didn’t think it a good idea. Readers may be able to imagine her tone.
Although there was no more room in the car park there was not a great deal of activity on the beach. Perhaps other people were filling the café.
In the distance, one at each end of this NYK Line container ship can be seen two of Palmerston’s Solent Forts – see https://solentforts.com/own-your-own-unique-private-island/ If you have a few million £s and a helicopter for landing facilities one could be yours. For £9,000,000 you could bag all three.
Later this afternoon we visited Shelly and Ron’s home to deliver the presents. They were not in, so we deposited the goodies in the garden.
This evening we dined on spicy pizza, lemon chicken, and fresh salad, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Chateauneuf-du- Pape.
Rain battered our windows and a fierce wind, courtesy of storm Francis, howled and whistled throughout the night. We drove into Milford on Sea for a 9.30 a.m. appointment for the last of my earwax extraction, and afterwards Jackie parked in an empty coastal carpark while I battled with the warm gusts, trying to ignore the precipitation obscuring specs and lens.
A group of hardy individuals walked along the spit, the slope of which wasn’t quite as steep as the wind forced me to make it seem.
I hopefully waved the camera in the direction of the turbulent waves churning creamy Costa coffee crashing into the sturdy breakwaters and slip-sliding over resistant rocks.
From the comfort of her driving seat the Assistant Photographer recorded the proceedings.
As I was about to return to the car I noticed a windswept young lady leaning into the storm, her hair writhing like Medusa’s. She was joined by her male companion possibly more eager than I to photograph the moment.
I have chosen not to brighten any of these images in order faithfully to represent what we actually saw at 10 a.m. on an August morning. In fact the rain eased up and the sun appeared by midday although the wind continued even more ferocious throughout the rest of the day, apparently more than 80 m.p.h. through The Needles directly in line with us.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s lemon chicken and savoury vegetable rice topped with an omelette. The Culinary Queen drank Hoegaarden and I drank Charlotte Fabre’s Tesco’s Finest Cateauneuf-du-Pape 2015.
In an earlier post Tangental asked for suggestions for flowers that would be blooming in the last week of August when he hopes to host a family event. Although, he, the Textiliste, and Dog themselves have an enviable garden I promised to let him know what we have currently flowering. Needless to say they will be aware of most of what I have to offer, but, here goes.
This month does not finish until next Monday, the 31st, but this will be the last full week. We are predicted to be hit by another fierce storm tomorrow so I decided to post what we still have today.
The second of these two pictures demonstrates that gladioli are vulnerable to gusts of wind and need to be supported with stakes strong enough to see off Count Dracula.
Carpet roses come in a variety of colours and drape everything in sight. The red one might be appropriate for the special occasion.
Super Elfin is a fast growing prolific climber.
Given the occasion, the red Love Knot, might be appropriate; this one, and the sweetly scented peachy Mamma Mia and yellow Absolutely Fabulous survived our heavy pruning yesterday. The latter two are most prolific repeat flowering.
This is all that is left of For Your Eyes Only, the most prolific rose of all, but so resilient is it that all our snips will have prepared the way for plentiful new shoots within the next sennite (Archaic English WP).
At this time of year Rosa Glauca converts clusters of delicate pink and white flowers to rosy hips.
A variety of hydrangeas still thrive,
and hibiscus,
seen also with red and white dahlias and tall, strongly scented, bronze fennel, has come into its own.
This is of course the time for dahlias, of which we have a range.
Our Japanese anemones come in two shades of pink and in white. In the third of these images they blend well with pink pelargoniums and fuchsia Delta’s Sarah.
Pelargoniums and geraniums will grace any hanging basket,
as will begonias of any shape, size, or hue;
likewise sometimes scented petunias.
Provided you keep up with dead-heading, as with most of these plants, sweet scented phlox of many different colours will continue to delight.
We find rudbeckia hard to grow a second year, but this Goldsturm variety returns.
A number of crocosmia, like Emily MacKenzie and the yellow one we can’t identify for certain, are still blooming, although others such as Lucifer have finished, but, like Arnie, will be back.
The daisy-like erigeron and yellow bidens offer points of highlight throughout the garden. Erigeron thrives in paving, steps, and stony soil; all our bidens are self seeded survivors from last year.
Sedums begin to blush towards the end of the summer. The second picture has a backdrop of ornamental grass, some of which puts us in mind of Cousin It from the Adams Family. All good space fillers.
Eucomis, or pineapple plants, are a fun talking point;
nasturtiums trail everywhere until the first frost.
Nigella is a little blue flower.
This white solanum has flowered consistently for more than twelve months, far outstripping its neighbouring honeysuckle, now transformed into not very attractive berries. The solanum comes in blue, too.
Jackie produced a dinner this evening consisting of her special savoury rice served with prawns, some of which were spicy, and others tempura, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Saint-Chinian.
The wind lessened today, so we made a start on recovery.
There is nothing to be done about windburn such as this on the red Japanese maple, but
we did carry out an extensive hard prune in the Rose Garden where Mamma Mia and Absolutely fabulous prevail.
Bees were confined to their hives yesterday and made up for lost time today. Here they may be seen in Absolutely Fabulous, in bidens, in Laura Ford, in pelargoniums and in erigeron.
Another heavy storm is forecast in two days time, so we saw no point in much more tidying this afternoon and went for a drive instead.
We turned off Salisbury Road into
Ivy Lane, at the end of which lies Ibsley, and
‘Moyles Court School [which] is an independent day and boarding school for pupils from 3 – 16 years old.[5] Moyles Court was the former manor house of Rockford, and later for Ellingham as well. The 17th century manor house was once the home of Dame Alice Lisle, the last lady to be publicly beheaded in England following a judicial trial.[6] In 1940 the building was requisitioned by the RAF, who stationed the headquarters for the Ibsley Airfield there for six years.[7]‘ (Wikipedia) This was the base for both RAF and USAAF.
This afternoon the verges outside the school were lined with reconditioned army vehicles, enthusiasts of reenactment, and members of https://www.mvt.org.uk – Military Vehicle Trust.
There are good number of WW2 airfields and military sites in the New Forest. A member of the convoy explained that they were touring these locations. In the process they attracted photographers and visitors, including children, who were most intrigued.
Another attraction was the regular ice cream van. Take a boy to the forest and he will come home with a stick.
During the holiday season the forded stream always encourages a gathering, members of whom will often rig up a makeshift swing.
This evening we dined on baked gammon; boiled new potatoes and crunchy carrots; piquant cauliflower cheese; and tender cabbage, with which Jackie drank Becks and I drank more of the Saint-Chinian.
As I sit drafting this post bright sun shines, speeding clouds scud; wild wind howls along Christchurch Road sweeping through the garden, rustling the kitchen door curtain and setting tinkling charms jingling.
We are now into our third consecutive day/night of fierce breezes. Tentatively I ventured out to survey the damage and was able to report to the Head Gardener that she was in for a pleasant surprise.
Even the patio chairs had stayed upright, while its planting, and that of the Pond Bed, remained intact. Bigifying the third picture in this gallery will show that the whirling ladybird with the white wings enjoys full gyration whereas her red-winged sister has been somewhat restrained by an amorous verbena bonariensis.
Other views of the Pond Bed are equally encouraging. Dahlias remain strong and a solitary bee was attracted by the hibiscus;
Japanese anemones feature there and elsewhere. The Brick Path in the second picture here needs no current sweeping, although that is not a task we will undertake until the wind drops.
A few trugs have been blown about, although this bright green one remained static whilst being photographed from two separate angles. The first of these two pictures shows an empty brick plinth with the pot that should stand on it having been blown down. The container is a bit chipped and the planting spoiled, but it will no doubt recover.
Of the very few other broken plants we have this pretty, elegant, gladiolus, and the unfortunate Mum in a Million.
The tall red climbing rose in the Oval Bed has bowed enough for me to photograph it head on;
The yellow crocosmia has also dropped a little, but remains intact.
Rose Alan Titchmarsh has drooped a little and a stem of Super Elfin has come adrift from the Gothic arch where
a somewhat aged Doctor Ruppel remains in place.
The weeping birch, the copper beech, and the cordyline Australis, although swaying somewhat, are not shedding too many twigs.
White begonias shaded by the wisteria, and similarly hued petunias in the rose garden still have all their petals.
This final triptych shows the Oval Bed pictured earlier from the corner of Margery’s Bed; nicotiana sylvestris towering over the rest of the Dead End Path planting; and a small owl toppled beside the Shady Path.
All in all we are getting off surprisingly lightly.
This evening we dined on baked gammon; crisp roast potatoes, the sweet variety being soft-centred; piquant cauliflower cheese; crunchy carrots; and tender cabbage, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank Saint-Chinian 2017.
