Tag: bee

October Sunshine

Although my usual BCG procedure symptoms disturbed my sleep, by midmorning they had subsided, leaving me rather lacking in energy. I therefore dozed over the BBC radio transmission of the third day’s play in the second test match between England and Pakistan.

Having once more watched the cumbersome wood pigeons teetering precariously among slender stems while they attempted to keep the occasional crab apple in their beaks, I took a brief walk around the garden where

roses such as Aloha and Festive Jewel are still blooming,

and Rosa Siluetta Lavender continues to wind itself around the Weeping Birch trunk which it shares with mushrooms generated from its wood.

Fuchsias, for example Mrs Popple and Delta’s Sarah will probably survive the winter.

Clerodendrum Trichotomum is at its peak;

dahlias continue and Japanese anemones still attract bees

A hidden clematis cluster shelters alongside the Heligan Path.

Many pots of violas have not been mislabelled, they carry signs that bulbs are planted beneath them.

This evening we dined on Ferndene pork and garlic sausages; creamy mashed potatoes; crunchy carrots; firm cauliflower, broccoli, and Brussels sprouts. with which I drank another glass of viña San Juan.

Finishing Off (For Now)

Now that the fierce winds have eased off the day was warm enough for T-shirts and bees; although the autumn crocuses have taken a battering Rosa Siluetta Lavender, grateful for the rain, continues its rapid climb up the Weeping Birch trunk.

Jackie was able to clear the Cordyline leaves, brambles, and stinging nettles from behind the Australian tree this morning and leave them for me to bag up this afternoon,

along with a few clippings in a trug.

I filled five and a half bags then swept up the debris.

After drafting this I received a most helpful call from Natalie, one of the nurses in the Southampton General Hospital urology department. She was very friendly and clear in her explanation of the reason for, the procedure, the follow up and the after effects of the BCG vaccine installation, confirming that I would be sent a letter with relevant dates. Interestingly she had the results of my recent blood test which she told me was normal, and that the symptoms I have been continuing post-procedure are quite usual, clarifying why.

This evening we dined on spicy peri-peri chicken (milder than last time); Jackie’s colourful savoury rice; carrots, cauliflower, spinach, and broccoli, with which I drank more of the Cabernet Sauvignon.

Settling The Gingko

Our gingko tree, left by our predecessors, has occupied a large terracotta pot which it has been gradually splitting asunder ever since we bought the house ten years ago. Having had to cut down the weeping birch tree we decided to move the gingko to a permanent home and settled on Elizabeth’s Bed at the south end of the garden.

It was Martin’s major task this morning to clear a space by

moving several plants to be transplanted elsewhere;

digging a hole into the hard clay soil;

lifting and positioning the tree;

then composting the area for the finished work.

When not photographing this graft, I carried out a dead-heading and weeding operation then

turned my camera onto other plants, all of which bear titles in the gallery.

Busy bumble bees, like this one investigating a campanula clump, kept me company.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s meaty mince cottage pie; tender cabbage, and firm Brussels sprouts.

The Bees Awake

The forecast overnight heavy rain persisted, clattering on the kitchen Velux window until shortly before dawn. Slowly, sheepishly, the sun crept into the skies, warming the garden enough for me to walk around in shirtsleeves, looking at the difference in the light from yesterday.

The gelatinous liquid aiding temporary hibernation of the bees was now running freely, for most had left their roosts.

One tottered tentatively around its berberis berth.

This evening we all dined on succulent roast breast of lamb; crisp roast potatoes and Yorkshire pudding; al dente carrots, cauliflower, and broccoli, chopped cauliflower leaves, and tasty gravy with mint and cranberry sauce. Jackie, Becky, Ian, and I drank Sacchetto rosé.

He Vouched For Their Taste

James the carpenter fitted a new drainpipe and guttering on the west end gable wall this morning

while Martin finished clearing the Oval Bed,

in which could now be seen this clematis attracting a hoverfly.

Wasps and bees were also buzzing around,

and the ubiquitous verbena bonariensis provided numerous trapezes for fluttering butterflies such as Red Admirals

and Small Whites.

Dahlias and crocosmia Lucifer are enjoying their time;

lilies in the Rose Garden have survived their recently bent stems.

As the day’s temperature rose, Martin worked steadily clearing the rest of the Dragon Bed.

In the first of these two pictures he holds up one of the fruiting blackberry brambles, for the taste of which he happily vouched.

Ian returned in time to join us for tonight’s dinner which consisted of oven fish, chips, and peas with which he and Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank Louis de Camponac Cabernet Sauvignon 2022.

War Cry Or Serenade?

Accompanied by a shrill avian chorus that, apart from the occasional baleful wood pigeon, could have done with a bass tenor from Langholm, our division of labour in the garden this morning continued apace. It hadn’t been good idea for me to wear a sun-absorbing black T-shirt.

Perched in the Weeping Birch high above the eponymous flower bed

a pair of chaffinches kept up an incessant two note whistle lending a discordant jarring to the harmony. Was this a war cry or a serenade, I wondered?

To the left of Jackie, who was continuing her work on the Brick Path,

an owl roosted on a branched stand sporting a clematis fascinator in readiness for

Wedding Day festooning the Agriframes Arch with a certain amount of Compassion shown.

Another clematis adorns the Palm Bed, while two more owls are draped in ferns in the Pond Bed,

which also contains blue lobelia, pastel petunias, and rose campion.

Golden Day lilies star in the Dragon Bed.

Roses are represented by the red climber ascending the opposite side of the lopped cypress to The Generous Gardener; lofty Altissimo; and Rosa Gallica, being entered by a working bee.

This evening we dined on spicy lemon piri-piri chicken and various rices with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank Selone Puglia Rosso Appassimento 2021.

Hopping From Seat To Seat

Yesterday I somehow managed to strain my left inner thigh which means walking is out of the question.

Perhaps thirty years ago, as featured in https://derrickjknight.com/2013/01/17/im-only-borrowing-it/ I spent a good hour hopping from seat to seat on an Intercity train when I was commuting from Newark to Kings Cross.

The method proved useful once again today. I couldn’t walk, but I could hop from seat to seat around the garden for a photoshoot. So this is what I did.

These images were produced from a seat in the patio;

these from the Wisteria Arbour;

the Gardener’s Rest yielded just two;

then came the decking;

one from the bench at Fiveways;

a good range from the four various viewpoints in the Rose Garden;

two from the concrete patio;

four from the Heligan Path bench;

two from the Westbrook Arbour;

three from the Nottingham Castle bench;

and finally, petunias in a chimney pot on the lawn seen from its own bench. All the other titles will be available from accessing the galleries.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s succulent beef and onion pie; boiled new potatoes; firm carrots, cauliflower, and broccoli, with meaty gravy. The Culinary Queen drank Hoegaarden, Flo and Dillon drank Ribena, and I finished the Côtes-du-Rhône.

A Soporific Afternoon

In the vicious postprandial heat I ventured on a garden hunt for butterflies and bees, which had been more present earlier in the day when we were clearing clippings and bagging them up for disposal.

Only two Peacocks and one bee settled in view during the half hour in which I was prepared to stick it out.

This afternoon we drove to Helen and Bill’s home at Fordingbridge to deliver a birthday present for our brother-in-law. He appeared to be asleep and Helen was out, so we left it in the porch.

We returned home via the forest.

Outside The Fighting Cocks at Godshill a group of ponies queued for a drink until

one became frisky and was rebuffed, while

another joined those waiting for a bus opposite.

Two walkers with a dog passed ponies on the green at Hale.

We followed another little and large pair on Tethering Drove, until they entered Broughton Gorse and led me to other equines in the adjacent landscape, one of which had succumbed to sleep,

as had two of our regular friends the Gloucester Old Spots slumbering at the Cadnam end of Roger Penny Way.

This evening we dined on oven fish and chips, peas, and pickled cucumbers and onions, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank Banks’s Amber Bitter.

Resisting The Spanish Invasion

This morning Jackie and I drove to our annual pilgrimage to Boldre’s

Church Lane, with its high ancient hedgerows and its

private bluebell woods.

Banks and verges are now adorned, in addition to the bluebells, with white stitchworts, and yellow celandines and dandelions.

Jackie and and I saw differing images in the gnarled bark of an aged oak.

Rodlease Lane forms a T-junction with this first ancient thoroughfare, and also hosts this native variety of the blue flowers. When taking these pictures I was careful not to disturb

a bee pollinating a dandelion.

The reason we regularly visit this little area is because it continues to be populated by our own native plants as here

photographed and described by Jackie. The long, slender stems bear dark blue bells bending down one side. The leaves are long and narrow.

The Spanish variety is an invasive plant having largely replaced our home grown examples. To illustrate the difference our Head Gardener

photographed these interlopers when we arrived home. They are larger, more upright, plants with clusters of blooms all round the stems which rise from larger strap-like leaves.

I photographed these hybrids in our front garden. Their bells do hang down, but cluster all round the top of their stems. They also have larger leaves than our natives, none of which, sadly, are to be found on our plot.

This evening I dined on spicy pasta arrabbiata while the ladies enjoyed the chilli free version with Bolognese sauce. We had planned on Louisa, Errol, Jessica, and Imogen coming for Easter, but Covid put a stop to that, so tonight we all had the same Easter pasta in the shapes of chickens, eggs, and bunnies. Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Shiraz.