In her latest post, which I read this morning, my blogging friend, Pauline King, https://paulinekingblog.wordpress.com/ reminded me of my flat-share with my friend Giles in Claverton Street i 1973.
This was a basement flat in a Pimlico terrace. The enclosed back yard was a small area of concrete. There was no real sunlight. Nothing grew there. The elderly woman next door, however, enjoyed a wonderful ferny garden in what appeared to be rich soil. One day I asked her how she had soil when we had concrete. ‘Oh, I’ve got concrete underneath,’ she said. ‘I put the earth on top’. ‘Where did you get it?’, I responded. ‘From Battersea Park’. She replied. ‘How did you get it here?’ was my next question. ‘In my handbag’, was the answer.
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This wonderful woman had trekked backwards and forwards – it must have been for years – carting bags of soil trowelled up from this London Park situated on the other side of the River Thames. The times superimposed onto Google’s map probably relate to trains from Waterloo. This heroine walked across Battersea Bridge.
Our own efforts at shifting soil today paled into insignificance when compared with that neighbour’s feat. Nevertheless I can offer those up for consideration.
Jackie continued her work on opening up the Weeping Birch Bed; revealing some hidden plants; resetting others; and infilling soil from the excess on the borders of the back drive.
I dug out the soil from the area worked over yesterday; moved that round to the front of the house; collected several barrow loads of gravel from the pile on the back drive; and spread it over the revealed surface, thus widening the path. The transported earth needs spreading, and the left hand side of the path needs edging with stone. Maybe tomorrow.
On this glorious day the diaphonous wings of small furry bees glinted from many flowers, such as
verbena bonarensis
and cosmos;
and Small White butterflies, fluttered, flashing, everywhere.
When we sat drinking fizzy water we looked across the other side of the bed Jackie is renovating. Can you see the Small White in this photograph? (As always, clicking on the image will enlarge)
Mr Pink’s fish and chips had the honour of providing our dinner this evening. We added gherkins, cornichons, or wallies, and pickled onions. I drank more of the Chianti and Jackie drank more fizzy water.