Flies Are Now In Season

On another warm, humid, and largely overcast morning garden maintenance was continued. Jackie mostly concentrated on the Rose Garden, then produced her own gallery. It was the cricket on Absolutely Fabulous that sent her indoors for her camera. She also spotted a bee and a beetle on Rosa Gallica. Winchester Cathedral, For Your Eyes Only,Continue reading “Flies Are Now In Season”

The Sound Of Tearing Grass

Humid, leaden, weather continued today, although there was no threat of rain. After a dozy morning I attempted to join Jackie in the garden. I bagged up one set of refuse before realising that this was far too optimistic following the night that had just sapped my energy. The Head Gardener finished her planting, thenContinue reading “The Sound Of Tearing Grass”

Under The Weather

Threatened thunderstorm tardy. Oppressive pressure persisting. Headache building. Sleep suspended; interrupted. Piercing pain. Downstairs to pop Paracetamol – normally eschewed. Outside all dark and eerily still. About 1.30 a.m. Suddenly, later, sleep at last. Eventually stirring to pounding precipitation on roof tiles and window panes. No idea when. Headache lessened. Awake again at 6.00 a.m.Continue reading “Under The Weather”

I Closed The Book

On another warm overcast day of humid atmosphere brightened by the end of the morning, most of which Jackie spent in her customary garden maintenance – this time in the Rose Garden , where I joined her in bagging up and transporting to the compost bin some of her debris. I carried out more deadContinue reading “I Closed The Book”

David Copperfield Is Born

On a most oppressively humid morning we continued with garden maintenance. Jackie weeded, planted, trimmed and composted while I dead-headed roses, dug out two self seeded elder trees, and bagged up some of the refuse. Steady rain set in after lunch. During a lull I dug out some brambles from the back drive borders, untilContinue reading “David Copperfield Is Born”

Hunting In Pairs

“The Bishop” was the penultimate story that Anton Chekhov wrote while seriously ill with tuberculosis from which he died at the age of 44. This is a deeply emotional tale of the main character’s life and death, and his effect on family, prelates, and congregations alike. I finished reading it last night, and with itContinue reading “Hunting In Pairs”

Continuing Maintenance

On a much brighter morning Jackie trimmed the lower limbs of myrtle while I bagged up the clippings and added them to the row awaiting the local recycling centre. This, and further tidying, work has improved the views from the patio and down the Dead End Path. Also in receipt of attention has been theContinue reading “Continuing Maintenance”

Hod-Carrier Once Again

Yesterday evening Jackie produced two photographs from along the Shady Path and Dragon Bed beneath the strong evening light, and later of the strawberry moon claiming the sky from the sun. On a much duller morning she recorded the current progress of her replanting in the Pond Bed. For more than a week now, theContinue reading “Hod-Carrier Once Again”

Benches

I have now read two more of The Folio Society’s 1974 selection of Short Stories by Anton Chekhov. The first, which is not illustrated with a drawing by Nigel Lambourne, is ‘The Cross of Anna’. As Elisaveta Fen, the translator, writes ‘It is essentially a story of the destruction of innocence and the folly ofContinue reading “Benches”

A Negative Tattoo

The day dawned dull yet dry; the air cool and cheerless. Nevertheless Compassion rose, its neighbouring geranium palmatum; rose Penny Lane and her accompanying clematis Dr Ruppel flourished well enough as I made my way into the garden to gather up clippings from the Head Gardener’s morning graft. After lunch I carried out an extensiveContinue reading “A Negative Tattoo”