Tag: bench

Access To The Bench

Yesterday’s gales prevented us from finishing work on the cannibalised arch destined for the Rose Garden.

This morning Jackie completed her repair work, and Becky helped her set it up enabling me, on my dead heading session, to work round the back of Alan Titchmarsh rose, and giving everyone access to the bench.

I have spent much of the last three afternoons, culminating in today, finishing reading Lawrence Durrell’s Novel “Constance” which I will review tomorrow.

This evening Becky, Ian, Flo, Dillon, Ellie, Jackie, and I dined at the

splendid, yet homely, Britannia Thai restaurant in Milford on Sea. Our great granddaughter was provided with a high chair.

Tasteful paintings and other decorations featured on the clean walls while gentle recorded songs played quietly in the background.

The staff were welcoming, friendly, and efficient, and the food without exception first class.

Starters enjoyed included Tom Yum soup, Thai fish cakes, chicken satay, and vegetable spring rolls;

main courses chosen, and receiving repeated exclamations of delight were tamarind duck on crispy noodles, chicken pad khing, weeping tiger, panang chicken curry, and pad priew wan. Egg fried and coconut rices were shared;

four of us were very pleased we had chosen stem ginger pudding with ice cream dessert, as was Dillon with his chocolate melt and Becky and Ellie with Kwaky containing chocolate ice cream.

Four of us drank Singha beer, J20 and diet coke for the others.

This was generally considered the best Thai restaurant ever experienced.

Clear Paths

Today remained hot-sticky-humid throughout with very little sunshine. This morning Jackie ironed the last bedsheet; this afternoon I pressed the last three shirts.

The Head Gardener continued clearing, composting, and planting; while I applied myself to dead heading

such as Mamma Mia, Crown Princess Margareta, and Absolutely Fabulous; and to gathering up heaps of clippings.

Day lilies and everlasting sweet peas continue to proliferate.

The Brick and Gazebo paths are now clear once more,

as is the Phantom Path running between Margery’s and the Cryptomeria Beds.

Soon after we arrived here we found the iron ends of this bench in the jungle that we inherited. I bought timber for the slats and fitted them into place. It has become somewhat unsteady. Today Jackie reinforced it with metal stakes and resettled it. We no longer need to be apprehensive when sitting on it.

During a rest period I read enough more of David Copperfield to scan the next three of Charles Keeping’s excellent illustrations.

‘ ‘Miss Mowcher!’ ‘

‘My aunt sat looking benignantly on me, from among the borders of her nightcap’

In ‘People about me crying ‘Silence!’, and ladies casting indignant glances at me’ Mr Keeping makes the reason clear.

This evening we dined on roast chicken thighs; firm carrots and broccoli; tender cabbage; and boiled potatoes, with which Jackie drank more of the Sauvignon Blanc and I finished the Fleurie.

Hod-Carrier Once Again

Yesterday evening Jackie produced two photographs from along the Shady Path and Dragon Bed beneath the strong evening light,

and later of the strawberry moon claiming the sky from the sun.

On a much duller morning she recorded the current progress of her replanting in the Pond Bed.

For more than a week now, the Head Gardener has been slowly emptying and sifting the contents of our centre compost bin. This process is made more time consuming because a full wheelbarrow is too heavy for her to shift to where she wants the material.

Now she has nearly finished I decided to lend a hand and

filled a barrow to capacity and wheeled it over to the Oval Bed which, like all the others, will require extensive weeding before its soil can be topped up. Once again I was performing the role of “The Head Gardener’s Hod Carrier”.

This afternoon we lifted the New Dawn rose that had been dropped by the recent storms, retied it, and placed the white aluminium bench in its corner.

Are your dreams worth waiting to bring to fruition at the expense of a more pleasurable earlier life? This is the essential question behind Anton Chekhov’s story ‘Gooseberries’. I was impressed with what translator Elisaveta Fen describes as the ‘evocation of the Russian countryside on a rainy day and the feelings of relaxation, cleanliness and comfort, experienced by the men after hours of exertion ….. conveyed with Chekhov’s characteristic directness and subtle power’. The author’s simple descriptive skill is so evident in this narrative.

For ‘Nikolai ate the gooseberries greedily’ Nigel Lambourne has depicted this man’s happiness which is questioned by the narrator.

This evening we dined on oven fish and chips, garden peas, cornichons with chillis, and pickled onions, with which we both drank Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc 2020.

Nature’s Palettes

On a bright and sunny afternoon we drove to the Parish Church of St John the Baptist on Church Lane, Boldre, where we met Elizabeth for a wander round the cemetery. These two images are Jackie’s.

She also pictured largely lichen-covered arboreal delights, and

various gravestones and crosses,

including the Burton family memorial to father, mother, and five year old son. Col. William Henry Burton (late Madras), according to the London Gazette, retired on an Indian pension and extra annuity in December 1890.

She finally focussed on the Chisman Brothers’ lichen-splashed memorial bench. Cecil died suddenly aged 40. I don’t know about William.

I, too, focussed on various flora;

on general views; on individual lichen and moss layered stones;

and on the House family monument of which Jackie had featured the semi-profiled lilies.

We still cannot make out the identity of either this little girl photographed on our last visit or the person watched over by this spotted angel.

Nature has converted wood and stone into palettes on which to apply her own gentle hues.

Unfortunately I have to report that, despite the warning sign, dumping even occurs on hallowed ground.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s creative cottage pie flavoured with cumin and thyme, and topped with potato and parsnip slices; flavoursome Brussels sprouts; crunchy carrots and meaty gravy with which she finished the Sauvignon Blanc and I drank Barossa Valley Shiraz 2017.

Emerging From The Gloom

This morning the temperature plummeted, as did rain until after lunch, when the overcast skies brightened and the wind speed escalated, for the rest of the day, to 40+ m.p.h.

We drove early to Ferndene Farm Shop to buy three bags of compost, a splendid, tall, lingularia; lettuce and other salad ingredients, before a short trip into the forest.

Beside Church Lane a pair of field horses sheltered under a tree.

The lane, like many others, had recently been resurfaced; hence the skid warning and speed limit. Often such signs stay in situ for months. Jackie had found a section of verge on which to park, otherwise no-one would have been able to pass while I photographed.

Further along the road we spotted a herd of deer which, as soon as they got wind of us, turned tail and huddled together further away. This did not put some of the young stags off their stroke.

As usual, galleries can be accessed by clicking on any image each of which can be viewed full size by clicking the boxes beneath them, and further enlarged if required.

Church Lane is steeply undulating. As this equestrienne reached the top of one slope and emerged from the gloom, even though Jackie was driving very slowly, her horse fell into a panic. My chauffeuse stopped the car and turned the engine off, thus enabling the young woman to settle her steed and sidle past the Modus while preventing the driver’s side from being kicked in.

The far end of the lane emerges in Pilley where further coronavirus messages include the bus shelter with its Union flag and Stay Home messages; and the HOPE bench.

Back at home raindrops glistened on hemerocallis, nasturtium, honeysuckle, fuchsia Delta’s Sarah, and rose Hot Chocolate, to name a few.

I spent the rest of the day reading a book I will feature tomorrow.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s spicy lamb jalfrezi, flavoursome mushroom rice, and plain parathas, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the delicious Douro

From Lebanon To Dunedin

Unfortunately the expected overnight thunderstorm passed us by. The day, although cooler, remained overcast and humid.

This meant further watering – mostly done by Jackie, with me chipping in a bit. Nugget sent me back inside for my camera. I did oblige, but he was waiting with a companion who was more twitchy and they flew off. I had one shot at a joint portrait, but it was so out of focus that I deleted it.

As we left home this afternoon heading for Everton Post Office to send a parcel to Pauline in Dunedin we received a package from Lavinia of Salmon Brook Farms in Oregon.

On Old Christchurch Road we noticed further artistic tributes to the front line carers coping with Corvid-19. As usual the galleries can be accessed by clicking on any image which may be viewed full size by clicking the box beneath each picture. These can be further enlarged if required.

We continued on a drive into the forest,

On the hillside beside Braggers Lane caramel coloured cattle and their calves were their usual inquisitive selves; horses in the fields below simply continued grazing.

The clopping of hooves along the lane alerted me to a couple of equestriennes who gave cheery greetings as they passed me.

On our return home I unwrapped Lavinia’s CD which we both enjoyed. I imported it into my iMac and I already know that listening to the artist’s melodious voice and clear diction, occasionally accompanied by Rick, against the gentle guitar will make a perfect accompaniment to my daily uploading of photographs for publication on WordPress.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s authentic lamb Jalfrezi, mushroom rice, and paratha with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank Alma da Vinha Douro Doc 2018.

An Appeal For Help

This morning was wet and dull.

Light rain glistened on the dimly lit garden foliage seen from the bedroom windows.

After lunch the sun smiled down and spread a little joy.

It was warm enough for Aaron to mow Mistletoe Cottage’s lawn wearing a T-shirt.

I wandered around at ground level noting roses including

Peach Abundance,

Margaret Merrill,

and Festive Jewel:

 

fuchsias such as Delta’s Sarah:

and the flowering pieris piercing the lawn.

Iris Reticulatas have penetrated the Weeping Birch Bed at the point where the honesty blooms are giving way to the soon to be transparent seed medallions.

Brightly burnished blowflies’ metallic blue bodies mutated into rusty red.

In the meantime Nugget continues his parental duties. So diligently is he zooming backwards and forwards to his nest which may well be in the garden of North Breeze, that he has lost interest in hiding. If his family is domiciled on our neighbour’s property, we will not consider him disloyal because we know that avian boundaries are not the same as ours.

“Where’s Nugget?” (76)

This afternoon, in order to prevent bigger birds from snaffling our robin’s food, Jackie had wired up the outside of their feeder, leaving a robin sized access hole.

While I watched the news this evening, Jackie sat with a glass of Heineken on the patio.

Suddenly Nugget perched, chirping, on the back of the chair next to her. She turned. They made eye contact. Her familiar cocked his to one side and continued tweeting.

“What is it?”, Jackie asked.

A pause. She then said “I know. I’ll come and sort it out.”

He flew ahead of her, stopped in the centre of the path outside the kitchen window, and continued to call until she got up and followed him.

Still flying ahead of Jackie, he perched in the wisteria, waiting while she removed the chicken wire from his larder.

He flew past her head, chirruped his thanks, entered the container, and sped off to feed his brood.

After this we dined on roast pork, chipolata sausages, piquant cauliflower cheese, carrots, broccoli and cabbage with which Jackie continued her Hoegaarden and I finished the Fleurie.

 

 

 

Khaleesi And Karen’s Hair Dryer

On this bright, sunny, day Barry of

was able to complete the work on the Velux window roof.

He tapped down the lead using a tool that had once belonged to Owen’s great grandfather;

tested the result for smoothness in his usual careful manner;

and employed Karen’s hair dryer to avoid the possibility of his normal heater cracking the glass.

This afforded him time for contemplation.

A walk round the garden revealed a somewhat nibbled mushroom sprouting in the stumpery.

Muggle was at home in his larch.

Nugget still looked him up now and then. Otherwise he foraged for himself.

“Where’s Nugget” (46).

Barry sent me the first two pictures on this post, with a set

depicting the completed project.

Note the spirit levels in this one.

Keeping her very discreetly out of our way, Barry brought his delightful spaniel Khaleesi with him, and included some pictures of her.

Apart from a spell on the Westbrook Arbour bench,

she remained in the van.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s spicy sausages in red wine; roast potatoes; crunchy carrots and firm broccoli, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank Patrick Chodot Fleuri 2018.

 

 

Wetter Than Expected

My plan this morning was to walk along Bisterne Close for half an hour after which Jackie, having dropped me at one end, would follow and pick me up. In gloomy morning light and light drizzle we set off.

The War Memorial in Everton Road, Hordle, had been prepared for tomorrow’s Armistice Day.

The commemorative bench bears stylised pale red poppies and pure white doves of peace.

More poppies grace fences and

freshly mown grass.

By the time we reached Holmsley Passage the drizzle had increased to light rain which

gave ponies a somewhat more than bedraggled look.

Soon the rain had developed deluge dimensions. My readers will know by now that I don’t know when to give up, so we continued to

Bisterne Close.

 

Listening to the increasingly tympanic pattering of raindrops drumming onto the trees, dripping off the leaves, and thudding onto the shoulders of my porous allegedly damp-proof raincoat; peering through specs lacking windscreen wipers, through which I couldn’t clearly see my viewfinder I captured what woodland scenes I could.

Autumn leaves, above

or below, glistened with precipitation.

I resisted the temptation to ask a horse chomping hay for the loan of its cheerful rug.

Here, as on much of the forest terrain, pools were appearing.

Autumn leaves submerged beneath the water where raindrops floated on muddy surfaces until bursting into spiralling increasing circles. I stuffed my specs into my pocket and attempted to employ my dampened eyelashes to provide clear vision.

Fallen trees and their branches, both recent

and longer-lying, settled into their task of maintaining the ancient forest ecology.

while others, now dead, did their bit while still standing.

Some trees sent tentacles in search of rooting soil.

Such bracken as had not yet gathered a fully autumnal appearance was turning nicely.

Well fed birds have not yet been tempted to strip the hollies of their berries.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s spicy pork paprika, savoury vegetable rice, and tender runner beans with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Cotes du Rhone.

 

 

Sparkling Jewels

Today dawned bright and sunny. Taking her camera with her, Jackie photographed the garden, glistening after yesterday’s rain. I joined her after a while, adding a few images of my own. We have merged our results.

Raindrops bejewelled individual blooms,

and sunshine brightened every view.

While Jackie was working on the lawn, Nugget did, of course arrive to inspect the works.

He took up a viewing station in his favourite New Zealand hebe,

then dropped down onto a bench to carry out a preening session within inches from the Head Gardener. Suitably satisfied with his ablutions he went into hiding in broad daylight.

“Where’s Nugget?” (19).

This evening we dined on tangy fish pie; crunchy haddock goujons; wholesome champ – an Irish dish consisting of mashed potato and spring onions – tender runner beans; piquant cauliflower cheese; and moist ratatouille. Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank Gajewski Shiraz 2018 – an excellent Australian wine brought by Elizabeth on Saturday.