The Gingko

For the first time since I picked up a heavy cold, accompanied by a number of flying insects I took a walk round our garden with my camera.

A wasp basked on the leaf of a budding rhododendron; a bee climbed into yellow wallflowers; a fly took a rest on a golden euphorbia.

Other budding rhododendrons were closer to blooming,

which camellias have been doing for months, and still carpet paths.

A number of Japanese maples are in full leaf.

Honesty photobombs many pictures,

but cannot upstage these sunlit hydrangea leaves.

These cowslips share a bed with forget-me-nots and ajugas.

Libertia is spreading across the weeping birch bed which is due to come down on 25th, when

it will be replaced by this gingko, which filled a pot we inherited from our predecessors. It has split the pot and we have wondered what to do with it for the last ten years.

Finally I pictured this pieris, an antirrhinum and cinerarias, and some frilly tulips.

This evening I joined the others at the kitchen table for fish pie, ratatouille, carrots, cauliflower, and broccoli with which I drank Caliza Tempranillo Rosado La Mancha 2022.

My Ancestry Thoughts Confirmed

My DNA results have confirmed my thought that I probably have Viking Ancestry:

66% England and Northwestern Europe predominantly north – East Midlands, Yorkshire and North England – 12% Scotland, 10% Sweden and Denmark, 1% Norway are pretty convincing. The southwestern English elements would have come from my father.

I now have the added intrigue as I continue reading “Kristin Lavransdatter” of the possibility that my ancestors may have lived like those in the novel

This evening, with my appetite back, with the others in the kitchen, I enjoyed roast chicken, Yorkshire pudding, roast potatoes and parsnips, cauliflower; still from a tray on my knees in the sitting room, and drank water.

Blossom From Bedroom Window

This was a cool day of intermittent bright sunshine and showers on which there must have been a rainbow somewhere.

I didn’t go out to investigate, but Jackie took all except the first of her

blossom pictures from the bedroom window, including one from the front garden featuring the tall Amanogawa cherry.

Obviously my aim at an average of 50 pages of “Kristin Lavransdatter” has gone out of the window lately, however I did manage 59 today.

This evening we all dined on another of Jackie’s wholesome cottage pie meals. My slightly larger portion was taken in the same manner as yesterday.

Not Going Out

While we still have our dying Weeping Birch and because of my cold I am not going out I photographed a few

garden views from above this morning, and dozed much of the afternoon occasionally woken by Ellie talking to me and offering me such as pictures of the moon, or the TV controls.

Dinner this evening consisted of Jackie’s wholesome cottage pie, crunchy carrots, and tender runner beans. I ate my very small portion from a tray in the sitting room because I am at a very sneezy stage.

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Categorised as Garden

Now I Have A Heavy Cold

All I managed to do today was to watch the Women’s Six Nations rugby match between France and Italy. I slept through some of it. Flo gave me eggy bread for lunch, and bunch of grapes later.

I dank a lot of water, but didn’t partake of Dinner with the others.

It will be touch and go whether I am fit for the eye surgery in a week’s time.

Light Sensitive

This morning, Jackie drove me to Bolton, a suburb of Poole, for my cataract surgery assessment from

SpaMedica, a private hospital contracted to NHS.

After a thorough review, involving repeats of some tests and scans undergone at Boots opticians two days ago, including further drops to dilate the pupils, and measurements of the lenses, I was booked in for surgery next Sunday, 21st.

I remained light sensitive for three or four hours, which did not prevent me watching the Women’s Six Nations rugby matches between England and Scotland, and between Wales and Ireland.

This evening we all dined on crispy fishcakes; creamy mashed potato; crunchy carrots; piquant cauliflower cheese; and tangy ratatouille, with which I drank Lazy Pig, a light hoppy ale.

Warm Spring Sunshine

I enjoyed a pleasant conversation with David of Mistletoe Cottage in the garden this morning where we discussed his plans for Aaron to replace our shared fence. It was good to extend our talk as we remained among our plants for a while.

Crab apple and Amanogawa cherry blossoms have survived the recent gales.

David will continue to enjoy these camellias and the Vulcan magnolia from his side of the fence.

Yellow-flowered euphorbia and more delicate comfrey are now prolific.

Ferget-me-nots and bluebells are now casting carpets and

attracting bees,

as are the lamiums.

Ferns unfold fiddles.

Honesty

also attracts flying insects such as the constantly flittering yellow brimstone butterflies.

Muscari and pieris are blooming well.

Is the autumn sculpture’s heart bleeding for the dicentra?

The orange marigolds in a hanging basket can be seen from the Gazebo Path.

Later I received a telephone call from SpaMedica contracted to NHS offering me an assessment interview for an anticipated cataract operation. This is at Poole tomorrow morning. I received a 12 page e-mail I was required to print out, complete various forms, and take with me tomorrow.

I then read more of Kristin Lavransdatter.

This appears to have been published prematurely. I have updated it and now add that this evening we will dine on second helpings of yesterday’s Chinese meal.

The Garland

Jackie and I both had eye tests at Boots opticians this morning. After two years Mrs Knight required no change of prescription. I was given solution in my eyes to confirm the need for a cataract operation discovered two years ago, but declined on referral to NHS because it was not considered ripe enough. We will see if it is well enough matured this time. In the meantime it was a while before I could see with unblurred vision. However I eventually opened my current book.

Having reached the end of the first part of “Kristin Lavransdatter” by Sigrid Undset, I now realise that this lengthy tome is in fact a trilogy first published between 1920 and 1922, of which the first is translated in this edition as “The Garland”.

Kristin Lavransdatter is a trilogy of historical novels written by Sigrid Undset. The individual novels are Kransen (The Wreath), first published in 1920, Husfrue (The Wife), published in 1921, and Korset (The Cross), published in 1922. Kransen and Husfrue were translated from the original Norwegian as The Bridal Wreath [The Garland in this edition] and The Mistress of Husaby, respectively, in the first English translation by Charles Archer and J. S. Scott.

This work formed the basis of Undset receiving the 1928 Nobel Prize in Literature, which was awarded to her “principally for her powerful descriptions of Northern life during the Middle Ages”.[1] Her work is much admired for its historical and ethnological accuracy.” (Wikipedia)

I will therefore review each part in turn as I read them and bring it all together in a closing post.

Here we follow our leading lady from her childhood to her youthful marriage.

Undset has the gift of excellent prose in which to describe the essence of medieval Norway’s lands, terrain, weather, peoples and places. We learn how the characters of the family saga feel, think, dress, and struggle with conscience in an essentially Catholic country. The author follows the protagonists’ conflict between the laws of religion and the urges of the body and its emotions. She has deep insight into the minds of both men and women. This work was written at the time of her own conversion to the faith that forms such an important factor in it.

The action sequences are prolific and detailed, flowing along at a very fast pace.

“Light, fluted clouds were floating over the high, pale-blue heavens, and the sun was glittering on the dancing ripples of the water. It was quite spring-like along the shores; the fields lay almost bare of snow, and over the leaf-tree thickets the light had a yellow shimmer and the shadows ere blue. But in the pine-forests up on the high ridges, which framed in the settled lands of Akersbygd, there were glimpses of snow, and in the far blue fells to the westward, beyond the fjord, there still showed many flashes of white,” is just one of the many engaging paragraphs that keep us turning pages rich in metaphor and in simile like “at the words of the prayer, it was as if her longing widened out and faded little by little like rings on a pool”. She incorporates all the senses into sounds, smells, sights, touch, and taste. Her poetic imagery must have been very challenging for the translators.

There are many editions of this work, in individual parts or in the whole. It will be apparent that I would recommend it to my readers, but not in the edition I have, simply because almost 1,000 pages has,

necessarily, been so tightly bound as to need a very strong grip to prise apart the centres of the pages determined to conceal their edges. The leaves pictured here describe the burning of the church, the significance of the timing of which should become apparent without my suggesting it to readers wishing to follow the saga.

The book contains a few drawings in the helpful notes, one of which is of the Norwegian stave-church.

This evening we all dined from King’s House excellent Chinese takeaway with which I drank more of the Côtes du Rhône.

I Couldn’t Be Bothered

Whilst I enjoyed a Chiropractic session this morning another day’s relentless lashing rain set in.

Before splashing off to Sears Barbers in Milford on Sea, watching windscreen wipers swishing back and forth, I kept well ahead of my targeted daily tally of Kristin Lavransdatter pages.

Raindrops slid down the window obscuring Ellie’s Hey Duggee! bubble machine. I really couldn’t be bothered to photograph any more rain. Jackie, on the other hand, whilst waiting for me outside the

barbers’, noticed the irony of this sign in the window of the gift shop opposite, and bothered to

depict the wet streets and

a pair of sopping crows seeking shelter beneath a dripping bench.

This evening we all dined on Jackie’s curry meals with all the extras that we enjoyed last night, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Côtes du Rhône.

Generations Reading

Longer term readers may recall that we, as children, had comics like

The Dandy and The Beano delivered weekly to our home. These were eagerly awaited, but Chris and I had to wait until Mum had read them before we could get our hands on them.

Here, at Old Post House the situation has been turned around. It is Ellie who opens Jackie’s monthly Gardeners’ World and will have read it several times before Great Granny has her turn.

First Ellie inspects the inserts, then the magazine, then she shows it to Granny. Before she did this today she had sat on the floor reading it to

herself, as she did later with one of her books. Notice how gentle she is with the pages. She can identify each animal in this one.

I made considerable progress on “Kristin Lavransdatter”, well exceeding my 50 pages per day target.

The 60+ m.p.h. winds that had roared throughout the night did not subside until early evening.

Our good friend David Firth sent me a couple of e-mails of damaged fencing between our gardens.

This evening we all dined on Jackie’s spicy chicken jalfrezi with a milder version including boiled eggs for Flo and Ellie; boiled rice with turmeric; fried paneer cheese and plain parathas, with which the Culinary Queen, Dillon, and I drank Kingfisher beer.