Ramblings
This afternoon we visited another NGS garden – 21 Chestnut Road, Brockenhurst.
This is my selection of photographs;
here are Flo’s. As usual each of these images bears a title in the galleries.
This evening we dined at Lal Quilla where the food and service was as good as ever. Jackie’s main course was Lal Quilla Special, Flo’s was Lamb Biriani, and mine was Chicken Jaljala. We shared pilau rice, sag paneer, egg paratha, and peshwari Nan. Jackie and I drank Kingfisher, while Flo drank J2O.
I find it easier to photograph white, pink, or red flowers in diffused light. That is why I paused before entering the car for our trip to visit Mum this morning to photograph the prolific white abundance of Félicité Perpétue and the pale and deeper pink roses over the porch.
We visited my mother in the garden at Woodpeckers. Whilst waiting for her to be wheeled out to join us I focussed closer than last time on the splendid colour of the beautifully kept borders, containing, amongst others,
cultivated aquilegias; marvellous mauve geraniums; clusters of allium puffballs fit for ’80s dresses; perfectly produced roses; and shapely white lilies.
Plants in larger pots are strategically placed, as is a resting flowerpot woman.
Mum is no longer able to walk at all, but is content to sit comfortably, despite missing her mobility. Unusually, although her recent recall is quite good, she is currently struggling to remember details of long ago.
What she does does remember from the past is procedural processes which have become automatic.
What do you do when, aged 21, with two small boys, and a husband fighting in France, you leave Leicester for London to find rented accommodation to be near your in-laws; it is 1944 and everything is rationed, and will be for the next decade, by which time there will be five children; women didn’t work outside the home, and the family were living on a van-driver’s salary?
If you have the intelligence and the internal resources, you economise – you make all the family’s clothes and you cut essential expenses where you can.
Mum needs fairly constant use of a tissue for her nose. This morning she came out without any. Jackie returned to reception to ask for some, and came back with a stack of generously-proportioned serviettes. No way will Jean Knight use the whole of one of these even to catch her dinner.
They have to be divided into four. Normally, as she did with dressmaking patterns during my early years, she cuts them into equal squares. There were no scissors on hand here so, before she allowed herself a sniff she had to manage the process with her arthritic fingers. The rest will be squirrelled away to be quartered in her room.
I have some of these ingrained procedural memories, too. If I don’t use a generous restaurant serviette I pocket it to add to Mum’s stash. My youngest children were amazed that I ate bread that they would consider stale. Well, while still in primary school I would be sent to buy yesterday’s bread because it was cheaper and lasted longer, as were bags of broken biscuits on which Chris and I spent our bus fares.
I will probably never get to the end of my drawer of scrap paper only used on one side, and I still have a button box that Mum is the last person to have used.
Later this afternoon Elizabeth popped in for a chat and stayed to dinner which was more of the same as we had enjoyed yesterday. Jackie drank more of the rosé while my sister and I drank Coonawarra Cabernet Sauvignon 2019.
Late yesterday afternoon we were both too knackered to clear up and put our tools away. The good news about today’s weather forecast is that we will be enjoying steady rain; the bad is that this will come with 60 miles per hour wind by the evening. This meant that we had to be out early this morning making our usual preparations in addition to the said clearing up.
We emptied trugs (WP you’ve got drugs on the brain) containing compostable material and buckets of alliums for bagging separately.
The trugs were then overturned to prevent their being filled with water.
Chairs were laid down gently before the wind did it ferociously.
If you biggify this second image of the scene, and examine the owl’s head you should see Where’s Nugget Junior? (2). While he was interested in what was going on he was not inclined to come any closer.
Paths were swept and hoed.
Beautiful as they are, the Weeping Birch Bed is just one that reminds us we will need to be back on the case soon enough.
Although the wind increased in ferocity we received no rain until early this evening.
Later this afternoon we drove to Keyhaven in search of windsurfers. We found none and therefore turned inland.
The rape fields off Sowley Lane are coming along well, and the oaks beginning to come into leaf.
Ponies grazed on the road ro Burley.
Cattle, blending into the landscape, foraged at East Boldre,
where some of the stumps and fallen trees have been around long enough to host lichen and frame violets.
A number of the roads in the New Forest area have been resurfaced. One of these arrives at the green sited where South Baddesley Road begins. Clearly a troop of donkeys has been engaged to maintain the grass in keeping.
Many of our English bluebells have been replaced or hybridised by Spanish imports. We have all three in our garden, but a number of our woods still contain our home grown variety. The first image in this gallery is alongside Sowley Lane; the rest along South Baddesley Road.
This evening we dined on oven fish and chips, baked beans, pickled onions, and cornichons, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Fleurie.
Late yesterday evening Jackie raced round the garden with her camera, gleefully photographing
her pride and joy. Petunias, pelargoniums, phlox, fuchsias, clematises, alliums, agapanthuses, dahlias, verbenas, campanulas, erigeron, lilies, Japanese anemones, diascias, begonias, eucalyptus, roses, and no doubt many I’ve missed. As usual, clicking on any image will produce the gallery, each member of which is separately labelled and can be viewed full size by clicking on the box beneath it, and further bigified with subsequent clicks.
As if that weren’t enough, the Assistant Photographer dashed out later to capture
the full moon, and again this morning to add
crocosmias Emily McKenzie and Solfatare,
and finally Lycesteria.
I had my work cut out today to select from 56 images, load them into the iMac, edit and crop them, then transfer them to WordPress retyping each title. I left my own camera alone, and for the first time ever rejected the offer of a forest drive, otherwise I would have been at the computer until midnight.
This evening we dined on Forest Tandoori takeaway fare with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Malbec.
This morning my gardening occupations combined dead heading and making photographs.
These roses Summer Wine and Altissimo, both coming again, were too high for me to reach with hand secateurs, and I couldn’t be bothered to fetch the steps.
Bigifying will probably be necessary to appreciate these bees on bidens, on Japanese anemones, and coming to land on crocosmia. Just click on any image to access the gallery and enlarge further with clicks on the ‘view full size’ box underneath and again if required. The bees swarming the Japanese anemones must be welcoming the plants’ early blooming.
Crocosmia blend well with other plants such as these bell-like alliums and the Japanese maple with its fingers singed by recent violent winds.
From beside this latter crocosmia I was able, through the maple, to view the petunias and pelargoniums featured alongside the kitchen wall.
We haven’t identified all the clematises in the garden. The first of this triptych above, for example, is a Lidl unnamed purchase; we do know that it is Niobe who shares the arch with the fuchsia, Chequerboard; the Head Gardener was determined to track down ‘clematis viticella purpurea plena elegans’, which took her some time, because when we arrived seven years ago this then weakly specimen was ailing in the rubble jungle that we eventually turned into the Rose Garden – it was fostered out in another bed until we returned it to its native soil, and has taken three years to reach the top of its supporting beam.
One of these yellow evening primrose blooms has survived the night well; this phantom hydrangea is also a survivor – it is the plant after which the eponymous path is named – first planted on one side of the Phantom Path it was really rather poorly for its first two years, until Aaron moved it into Margery’s Bed where it has enjoyed more light. We hope it will soon be in the shape in which we bought it.
Hemerocallis still thrive and we also have stargazer lilies in the main garden.
Four hours later, in mid afternoon I set out once more with my camera, giving me shifted lighting conditions.
A bee did its best to weigh down a verbena bonariensis.
Niobe could now sunbathe, and the clematis at the barrier between the garden and the back drive enjoyed light and shade;
the freckled lilies kept out of the direct sunlight;
sweet peas and hollyhocks could take it stronger.
My lens found the white flowers the best beneficiaries: sweet scented petunias, powerfully aromatic phlox, a clutch of dahlias, different Japanese anemones and the phantom hydrangea sheltered in shade this morning.
This evening we dined on prawn fish cakes, peas, and fresh crispy bread and butter with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Carles from a second bottle.
On the afternoon of this decidedly sultry summer’s day I cleared up the Head Gardener’s debris from the morning, then followed insects around with my camera.
Small White butterflies sought camouflage among Erigeron and rented verbena bonariensis accommodation from
bees and flies
which tested the strength of the Erigeron.
A bluebottle clung to hebe leaves.
This busy bee made safe landing in a bristly borage;
bidens attracted others;
further examples flitted in the Palm Bed from Rozanne geraniums to purple alliums, while in Margery’s Bed
more explored hollyhocks.
This evening we dined on Hordle Chinese Take Away’s excellent fare with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank Patrick Chodot Fleurie 2019.
Today, the hottest day of the year, was fine and sunny.
While Jackie swept, weeded, pruned, and watered the Rose Garden. (This picture is not an official “Where’s Nugget?”, but on reading the blog and doubly enlarging it The Head Gardener identified our familiar robin clearly silhouetted above the central bloom of clematis Warsaw Nike in the right foreground.)
I pruned roses and photographed various scenes there and elsewhere.
The Mum in a Million rose chaperoned by gladioli and foxgloves to the left of the third picture above is now in her prime.
In the first scene Jackie attends the gazebo which hosts Crown Princess Margareta and Zephirine Drouhin each exuding strong sweet scents.
This pink climber scales an obelisk
beside Margaret Merrill.
Ballerina dances elegantly
and another nameless climber, a deeper pink, soars above the arbour.
The views from the Cryptomeria Bed and the Concrete Patio lead on to the Rose Garden. The above picture contains one of the
plethora of poppies we now enjoy.
These stand against a red rhododendron.
As these bushes are nearing the end of their flowering, a different colour combination comes into its own.
This can be seen above the bench beside the Heligan Path
Back in the Rose Garden our little goldcrest continued its reflected courtship. He wasn’t fazed by us, but Jackie has now covered the mirror to reduce tantalisation.
Nugget kept us intermittent company. “Where’s Nugget?” (79).
Another view from the Cryptomeria Bed takes us towards the house, passing an unseen
arch sporting this purple clematis.
This stunning non-hardy pelargonium has survived the entire winter in a pot beside the kitchen window.
More small alliums live in the Pond Bed opposite.
The Chilean lantern tree is now quite loaded.
From the patio we have a view along the Dead End Path.
This view looks south from the Gazebo Path.
Looking in the same direction along the Brick Path we see that Wedding Day is burgeoning on the Agriframes Arch.
The roses along the Back Drive borders will also soon cover the stumps.
Irises Reticulata are cropping up everywhere.
A few days ago we visited South Sway Lane
to check on Gimlet, our carrot-loving equine friend. His field was empty, as it remained today when we came back to collect more horse manure from the house opposite. It was all gone, although it had been there on our previous trip.
Undaunted, Jackie continued to Ferndene Farm shop where there was no queue and she was able to buy several items. Still on Sway Lane,
I disembarked to photograph some backlit grey horses. The immediately trotted over to their gate so I had to be satisfied with this shot, which biggifies quite well.
This evening we repeated yesterday’s meal, except that the potatoes were old and sprouting a few roots. Our alcoholic accompaniments were the same.
This morning while gardening Jackie photographed
rose Emily Gray, a highly scented rambler gracing
the back drive border out of sight in this shot;
clematis Doctor Ruppel climbing the weeping birch;
a row of blue irises with the bonus of a yellow stowaway in the bag of bulbs;
Nugget,
and his son Junior, still not qualified to wear the red jersey.
After lunch I managed the photoshoot.
On the kitchen corner of the patio we have delicate magenta gladioli Byzantinus blending with deep blue verbena Vectura and pink pelargoniums,
in turn reflecting similarly hued diascia potted above cascading Erigeron.
Nearby stands this peach rose we inherited.
Ornamental alliums of a number of varieties are gradually un-peeling throughout the garden.
Nugget attempted to encourage his son to feed from the suet pellet tray, but the youngster was deterred by my wandering around
the vicinity of the wisteria arbour.
I therefore focussed on this from above, showing how the rose Paul’s Scarlet and the clematis Star of India are poised to replace the fading pale blue blooms.
Later Jackie came in for her camera when Nugget and Junior both occupied the tray. Unfortunately they were gone by the time she returned.
Later, Nugget left Junior to his own devices while he flew off with a pellet for the next brood. Apparently robins are such prolific breeders that they can produce 3 to 5 clutches of up to five eggs a year. As soon as the youngsters earn the red jersey they are chased off by their father, so Junior will soon go and find someone else’s garden.
The marigolds in the Oval Bed continue to proliferate.
In the Rose Garden For Your Eyes Only is bushing out nicely, while Gloriana towers above it;
Schoolgirl vaults the arbour;
and flamboyant Festive Jewel,
sprightly Summer Wine and middle-aged Madame Alfred Carriere
carelessly cavort in concert.
This evening we dined on minted lamb steaks, boiled new potatoes; crunchy carrots and cauliflower; and firm Brussels sprouts with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the El Zumbido Garnacha, Syrah.
I was grateful today for the overnight thunderstorm and for Jackie’s watering the parts it couldn’t reach early this morning before she and Shelly drove to Helen’s to offer sisterly assistance.
This meant I could concentrate on the dead-heading necessitated by the storm’s stripping of many petals. After more than an hour I retreated indoors with wobbly legs and wringing wet shirt to sit at the computer and apply myself to retouching two more of the images from my mother’s old album.
First I tackled my grandfather from c1926 at Conwy. Judging by the position of his hand I suspect he was holding a cigarette.
This photograph was probably taken in about 1919, before the marriage of my maternal grandparents, Annie and George Henry Hunter, who are the couple on the right.
These two images suggest that my grandfather was, like me, happier behind the camera.
After completing this work I returned to the garden,
where bees were very busy, being particularly partial to swarming over purple alliums and pink hebes.
Red geraniums, white marguerites, and pink hydrangeas produce an attractive bank on the front drive. Jackie is constantly thinning out the daisies so she has sufficient vision to her right when driving out.
A variety of day lilies continue to proliferate.
The last three day lily images are from the Kitchen Bed, also home to lysimachia Firecracker.
Pale pastel blue and white campanula spills over the Shady Path
from where we have views towards the house, and across the Palm Bed, among others.
This clematis Polish Spirit is nearby in the Dragon Bed.
From the stable door we look down the Gazebo path, and back from the agapanthuses coming into bloom in the Palm Bed.
Further garden views are afforded by the Rose Garden and the Phantom Path,
leading to the West Bed with its honesty and lilies.
Some time after Jackie returned home she drove out again for a Hordle Chinese Take Away meal which we enjoyed with Hoegaarden in her case, and more of the Fleurie in mine.
The sun today made fleeting, peeping, appearances in the garden.
These elegant, slender, gladioli are proliferating outside the kitchen door;
as does clematis Marie Boisselot in-urned in the Kitchen Bed alongside a deep red peony,
single petalled examples of which stand in the Dragon Bed.
Other clematises include Niobe on the corner of the kitchen wall, and on the wisteria arbour,
also home to Paul’s Scarlet;
and flamboyant Doctor Ruppel climbing the arch spanning the Brick Path beside the West Bed.
Delicate pink rose Penny Lane shares the arch.
One view from the Kitchen Bed leads to the distant entrance to
the Rose Garden, where
Festive Jewel, For Your Eyes Only, Love Knot, and Gloriana are among the parade.
Splendid Fireworks alliums burst forth in the Weeping Birch Bed,
while gentler pink stars mingle with Erigeron and euphorbia in the Kitchen Bed.
From the Weeping Birch Bed we are led through the Cryptomeria Bed to the eastern fence.
Pink campion and a bright red rhododendron stand sentinel on the south west and south eastern corners of the grass patch.
The red rhododendron emblazons these views down the Gazebo Path.
Elizabeth popped in this afternoon for a cup of tea.
This evening Jackie and I dined on pork spare rib chops on a bed of her mushroom rice fried in sesame oil. Mrs Knight drank Hoegaarden and I drank The Long Way Round Reserve Carmenere 2018.