Camellia – Page 3 – derrickjknight

Ladybird Or Ladybug Fly Away Home….

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The sun stayed away today until it was time for it to go to bed.

My share of the garden clearance, under the necessary direction from the Head Gardener, was eradicating or truncating dead stalks from last year’s plants, such as nicotiana sylvestris.

Jackie continued such work that required more specialist knowledge, and completed her work on bringing the Waterboy’s pool back to life.

We have a number if different snowball shaped viburnums that we can’t specifically identify. They are all in bloom.

I wonder if our little roof bound sparrow was guarding nest building this morning. He certainly seemed to be casting an eye in the direction of a piece of straw that had no business being up there.

Some of the earlier camellias are turning their beautiful golden brown, giving us the impression that we have varicoloured flowers.

As usual, the beech will be the last to clothe its skeletal framework.

Garden through weeping birch to Elizabeth's Bed 1

Garden through weeping birch to Elizabeth's bed 2

Leaves and catkins have begun to appear on the weeping birch, although it is still possible to view Elizabeth’s Bed through the slender branches.

A ladybird appears to have taken up residence in the fruit of the tree. As there was no response when I recited the popular nursery rhyme, I can only assume this is intended to be permanent.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s beef, peppers, mushrooms and onions cooked in a rich red wine sauce and served with sauteed potatoes, spinach, leeks, carrots, and cauliflower. Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank Chateau Plessis grand vin de Bordeaux 2014.

Ever-Changing Skies

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Aaron of A.P. Maintenance has recently completed the last section of fencing, and reorganised the compost bins. Today, he and his nephew Rory took away some of the resultant rubbish. This photograph is one of the few that I was able to take today in sunshine and with a dry camera.

During the rest of the day I was in and out to the garden attempting a few photographs of plants enjoying the sunshine and the showers. Perhaps only the duck and the frog were really in their element. The rain bejewelled primulas, daffodils, camellias, clematis cirrhosa, hellebores, iris, pulmonaria, and faux poppy sat for me quite nicely.

By mid-afternoon I conceded victory to the wind which enforced such rapid changes in the skies that all this last batch of pictures were produced within minutes during which rain fell continuously. Clouds rolled rapidly across the Heavens, sometimes concealing, sometimes revealing the sun

throwing its glowing light on this holly trunk against a sludgy bank of cloud.

This evening we dined on minced beef pie, creamy mashed potato and swede, red cabbage, crunchy carrots, leeks, and onions. I finished the merlot.

Island In The Sun

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This morning’s sunshine lasted long enough

to draw me into pruning the rose garden. By the time I had finished the skies had clouded over and rain begun.

Between showers Jackie was able to plant primulas into the large window boxes on the front wall.

More camellias are in full bloom, and

all the beds are clamouring for our attention,

but we abandoned them in favour of a drive to Tanner’s Lane beach,

where the usual boat was moored on the mudflats.

A solitary yacht sailed alongside the Isle of Wight,

as a ferry boat threaded its way past The Needles.

At low tide seaweed clung to rocks and breakwaters.

Further along the coastline gnarled trees were coming into bud,

as rain-laden skies loomed over the sunlit landscape.

Egrets were among the birds feeding on the shore.

One rewarded my numerous efforts to catch it in flight.

Having left Tanner’s Lane and begun to drive along Sowley Lane it seemed as if we were on the floor of a school dance from my teens. In the undergrowth on one side of the lane were assembled a bouquet of hen pheasants.

The less fragrant cocks patrolled the opposite side.

Plucking up courage, they paraded a bit,

then slipped through the barrier to join the ladies.

Just before sunset at Milford on Sea a crane silhouetted against the skies was a reminder that the beach huts destroyed in gales a couple of years ago are being rebuilt.

We hastened to Barton on Sea and waited for a pair of figures to make their way along the clifftop so that I could include them in my shot. Following their progress I was to discover that the gentleman was pointing a camera away from the west, and photographing the Isle of Wight.

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d2DjyPoyCcE&w=560&h=315]

Truly an Island in the Sun.

The tree in the grounds of the holiday homes park has grown as directed by the sea breezes.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s spicy chilli con carne, savoury rice, and salad. She drank Hoegaarden, and I finished the Carmenère.

We’re Off Out

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Today we are travelling to Leatherhead for the annual Gilbert and Sullivan production of the Godalming Operatic Society directed by Jackie’s cousin Pat O’Connell.

We intend to make our leisurely way there; join Helen, Bill, Shelly and Ron at the Travelodge hotel where we will be staying the night; watch the second half of the Six Nations rugby match; dine at an Italian restaurant with Pat, Christine, and their daughter Olivia; watch Iolanthe; repair to the bar; go to bed; get up in the morning; all breakfast in the same café; then go home. I might expand this tomorrow. If I can remember.

Before leaving I had a look at the front garden.

Outside there is a SLOW sign. Like many another traffic sign it has been left in the hedgerow after roadworks have been finished. The normal limit is 40 m.p.h. Which is largely ignored. So is the SLOW sign. Even when there are works around the bend up ahead.

Although the arch has been partially demolished by Doris Day,

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5MnUrhptPSo&w=560&h=315]

the tubs on Jackie’s makeshift platform have survived.

Tete-a-tetes, snowdrops, and hellebores share the beds.

The bergenias are beginning to show signs of age.

Behind this hellebore lies a profusion of trachystemon orientalis.

Meanwhile, alongside the Dragon Bed which did not exist when we arrived, towers a pastel pink camellia. It was only when we cleared the bramble jungle that covered it that we discovered that the plant was there. This is the first year it has born a profusion of blooms.

Panic-Engendering Chaos

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This morning I took advantage of a brief window of sunshine in an otherwise slate grey day

to discover in the garden daffodils, hellebores, crocuses, cyclamens, snowdrops, and camellia buds all bursting through.

After lunch, Jackie drove me to Sears Barbers in Milford on Sea, where I had my hair cut. The barber wound me up with the question; “Short back and sides?”. He knew what my answer would be. I only had to smile. He just gave me a much-needed trim.

On our way home we had a look at the sea, which was very choppy. There was a strong, mild, wind, stirring it up. Jackie likened the misty Isle of Wight to a body being towed over to France by the red-eyed sea monster lighthouse and The Needles.

As I sat down to draft this post I placed a pint glass full of fizzy lime squash on a fountain pen. This is not exactly the most stable surface. It would have been quite useful in a logrolling competition. The consequences were far reaching. And rapid. My pad of blotting paper produced a number of colourful Rorschach results; bubbling liquid raced across the desk, under the printer and under the computer, and swirled around smaller objects like a box of paper clips. The waves above would have been proud of the panic-engendering chaos. A dry cloth was useless. I used half a kitchen roll mopping up, and Jackie had to hold up the printer while I swabbed underneath it.. At least everything is clean now. And still works.

This evening we dined at The Family House, Chinese restaurant in Totton. It has been 18 months since we were last there, but our welcome was as friendly as ever. We chose our customary M3 set meal which was as good as usual, and both drank Tsingtao beer, which was remembered.

Making It Through The Winter

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Once the heavy overnight frost fringing these heuchera leaves had thawed, the garden was warmed by the sun

which was low enough to light lily leaves and grasses,

while pearly jewels dripped from naked and semi-clad twigs,

and lingering rose leaves.

Autumn-hued hydrangeas hang on to life.

The first clusters of precocious onion-smelly alliums have pierced the soil,

and a pendulous leycesteria has already produced its kindergarten mobiles.

Shadows slanted across the Shady and

the Brick Paths.

Three winter flowering pink Viburnum Bodnantense Dawn,shrubs are doing what is expected of them.

One camellia has begun to flower and has even provided evidence that some flies are capable of making it through the winter.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s brilliant beef in red wine, boiled new potatoes, and piquant cauliflower cheese. I finished the merlot.

Soil Transfusion

An early bird atop the oak across Christchurch Road admired this morning’s dawn sky which presaged a fine day.

And so it was. Warm enough to put the washing out.

My meagre task of the day was to begin the ongoing battle with the triffid invasion from our neighbour, North Breeze.

It is important to tackle the aliens early enough to prevent them from rooting on our side of the ramshackle border, as had this bramble.

When they burst through the greenhouse glass, as they did in the film (see the above link), then we will surely need to watch out.

It is a sad aspect of this jungle that it was once a wonderful garden, where the ghosts of such as

this rose,

this fruit tree,

this camellia,

and this magnolia, battle through to the light.

North Breeze neighbours the whole of the West side of our property, and turns the corner along the North side of the Back Drive,

where, watched by a sparrow,

Jackie was putting the finishing touches (just for the moment) to her creative planting.

Another regular operation she performs, on which she was engaged later, is soil transfusion. Much of the soil in the garden is rather anaemic and needs replenishing. Here, the surgeon has cut out a poorly section, removed the spent matter, and inserted a healthy supply.

She will then sift through the choked plants she has carefully preserved, extracting the smelly allium bulbs, and replant what she wishes to keep.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s luscious lamb jalrezi with savoury rice and parathas. She drank Hoegaarden whilst I drank Kingfisher.

A Game Of Cards

This morning, Ronan, of Tom Sutton Heating, serviced our boiler. It was in good working order.

It was another rainy day, with the occasional spell of sunshine, yet brightening up in the afternoon, enough for Jackie to indulge in more planting. I wondered how long this large pendulous drop would take to slip down to the next camellia leaf, and so on to the soil below.

I made a couple of A4 prints of the two young ladies carrying the Landscape Bark on 8th, and presented one of them with the pictures when we visited Mole Country Supplies for three more bags. This time a pair of young gentlemen loaded our car. Jackie observed that I ‘didn’t whip out [my] camera and take a photograph’. ‘Well’, said I, ‘they were not ……’ ‘female’ interjected my Driver. I completed my sentence with ‘….. quite so photogenic’.

When I wrote about Robyn Ghyll on 26th March 2013, I did not have access to the colour slides taken on that holiday in August 1979. I scanned them today. Brief details of the stay can be found by following the link.

Here Matthew leans on the dry stone garden wall of the Trevelyan holiday home,

in which Jessica conducts a card game requiring great concentration from Cherie and Maxine, but receiving very little from Vital who obscures cousin Jackie.

Jessica, Becky, and Michael’s dog, Piper, enjoyed splashing about in a freezing tarn. I am not sure how the floral hairpiece remained in place.

Jessica must have dried off for this portrait.

To call the meal Jackie served up this evening ‘Cauliflower Cheese’ is misleading. What it consisted of was cauliflower in a cheese mustard sauce including sauteed leeks and tomatoes, garnished with lean bacon rashers. With this delightfully tangy meal, I drank Piccini Memoro red wine.

A Pot Of Dragons

Following a request from Paul, I made two more prints for the exhibition today.

This A4 of the shady path on 20th October last year was another I had forgotten,

and we now have an additional A3 copy of the Weeping Birch Bed from 12th March that same year.

Before the welcome rain set in early this afternoon, Jackie planted many flowers, back and front; and we jointly filled and transported to the dump four more large bags of hedge cuttings.

As is her wont, The Head Gardener did not take home an empty car. On our first trip we returned with a hoe, a plant pot rack, and a large plant pot which she filled with a collection of dragons and lotus flowers. Well, they are made of metal, and we do have a Dragon Bed. On our way back from the last trip we bought tw more bags of compost from Otter Nurseries.

Jackie folded a few more flyers for me to distribute locally.

So important is colour in curry that I have often marvelled at those clinging to my empty plate after eating one of Jackie’s authentic meals like tonight’s lamb jalfrezi served with vegetable samosas, chick pea dhal, pilau rice, and parathas. With this wonderful meal Jackie drank Kingfisher, and I finished the madiran. Cremes brûlées were to follow.

Drinking Water

Today I completed the last of the exhibition prints, whilst Jackie continued a commendable amount of garden maintenance, including cleaning up the decking and placing the newly refurbished table between the cane chair and one of the camellias. The prolific euphorbia in the background has been heavily pruned, and one of the recently planted clematises trained along the trellis installed in the autumn is just visible when the image is enlarged.

We now have a considerable range of blooming pansies that Jackie planted earlier.

This afternoon, we collected the A2 image from Lymington Print and went driveabout.

Leaving the town via Undershore Road we explored the forest and its villages in a fairly small circular route.

Running alongside Lymington River, Undershore is narrow enough to require double yellow lines on both sides. Normally parking close enough to the water is impossible, but we benefited from the gradual decline of the British Pub industry.