I have never before experienced a sauna, but when I stepped out into our steamy garden to carry out my first dead heading of roses for the last three weeks at 11 a.m. I was greeted with a good idea of what to expect if I ever do. I had returned indoors by midday, and did not emerge again until late afternoon when I wandered around with a camera.
Jackie had achieved her gardening tasks before I came out for the first time.
She had further reduced the pile of pots on the patio awaiting planting out.
Hanging baskets and the iron urn, which she has spent 2 days clearing of a writhing ants’ nest all benefited.
While I was working in the Rose Garden a sharp droning noise alerted me to the fact that its solar powered water fountain was bone dry and screaming out for water.
The Head Gardener fixed that before serving lunch.
Waterboy tips his water into the container on the Pond Bed, where the Wonderful Grandparents rose blooms again.
Red sweet peas appear in the third picture in the Rose Garden gallery,
whereas white ones grace the arch at the corner of the Oval Path and
the Weeping Birch Bed.
Blue agapanthus stretches over the Gazebo Path from the Palm Bed,
seen here from the lawn,
while solanum hangs over the Brick Path.
This evening we watched the Olympic men’s doubles tennis matches between Rafael Nadal partnering Carlos Alcaraz and Tallon Griekspoor with Wesley Koolhof; then Andy Murray and Dan Evans against Sander Gille with Joran Vliegen; the first while dining from tables in front of the TV on roast pork, apple sauce, boiled new potatoes, Yorkshire Pudding, fried onions and mushrooms, cabbage, carrots, cauliflower, and broccoli stems; the second after our meal was over. I drank more of the Tempranillo.