carpet rose – derrickjknight

Repurposed Bedstead

Quivering leaves of the Amanogawa cherry tree outside my window alerted me to the light rain that freshened my morning garden task as it dripped from the trees above the front garden, in which I completed the raking of green refuse covering the mounds of gravel on the path, bagging all up in two used compost bags.

All that remained were the finishing touches of levelling the mounds and shaving the edges, rather like a barber trimming the neck and eyebrows. I completed this after lunch. When the still fierce winds lessen I might get around to removing the few remaining leaves which just wouldn’t keep still. Alternatively I might simply allow them to dance on.

Meanwhile Jackie reminded herself of the first bedstead repurposed on the Weeping Birch Bed when she erected one to hold back a red carpet rose determined to cover the recently cleared footpath.

This evening we all dined on Jackie’s tasty fusilli pasta bake containing boiled eggs, bacon, and chicken; and succulent baked gammon, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Douro.

The First Of October

My Under Gardener tasks this cooler, more cloudy, morning consisted of a little clearing to compost and a lot of rose decapitation.

Among the regular bloomers like the White Winchester Cathedral,

the prolific bright yellow Absolutely Fabulous, and the fulsome Lady Emma Hamilton a number of repeat performers are taking the stage.

Just Joey has risen from

the red carpet that continues to attract bustling bees.

The peachy velvet Schoolgirl graces the arbour

beneath which Gertrude Jekyll stretches from sleep, while

budding Deep Secret is currently keeping us in the dark.

This afternoon we drove to the less touristy east of the forest.

We had been promised a 30% chance of rain today. The nearest we got to that was a distant fall when driving along St Leonards Road.

The skies on the opposite side, across The Solent over the Isle of Wight, had no rain to drop.

The roof of the ancient St Leonard’s granary, which, as explained in https://derrickjknight.com/2016/08/04/salt-marshes/ once served Beaulieu Abbey, glows a rich rusty orange;

a pigeon surveys the scene from a ruined arch bearing similarly hued highlights.

Our mighty oaks do suffer in the heavy winds. Here, one huge limb has recently been wrenched off. The stump in the fourth picture has been a more distant casualty.

Further along a covey of juvenile pheasants were possibly discussing the approaching 1st of October when their shooting season starts.

This evening we dined on a rack of pork ribs in a rich barbecue sauce, mini spring rolls, Jackie’s tasty egg fried rice, and tender green beans, with which the Culinary Queen drank Hoegaarden and I drank Trapiche Pure unoaked Argentinian Malbec 2019 – a birthday present from Helen and Bill.

Working From Home

On an even hotter day we began gardening very early, partly because our septic tank was emptied soon after 7.00 a.m.

Our shared task was dead-heading. I carried a camera with me.

I have noticed that butterflies like to bask on paving or gravel. Can you spot this Red Admiral?

We now have quite a variety of Hemerocallis. Here are a few.

The creamy Shropshire Lad, and the pink carpet rose hosting a pair of what I think are hoverflies, represent the roses in the Rose Garden which also harbours the deep magenta petunias and sweet peas. As usual, the galleries can be accessed by clicking on any of the images in each one; view these full size by clicking on the boxes beneath them. Further enlargement is then possible.

Red rose Super Elfin rambles along the Back Drive border where red and white hot lips welcome honeysuckle that has crept in from next door.

A sunlit heuchera leaf cast its shadow across the brick path.

I spent the whole afternoon wrestling further with my banking problem. Fundamentally I cannot now create a new on line account. Once again I was on the end of a bad line from Scotland. This, it transpired was because the agents were working from home. Eventually I was advised to start again in the hope that I would reach a different call centre. I did. It worked. This time I was told that my Mac had blocked the account. I will have a session with Peacock Computers tomorrow.

Early this evening we took a drive to Mudeford which was awash with people still flooding in with little semblance of social distancing. We turned around and enjoyed a drink on the patio before a second sitting of Hordle Chinese Take Away delights with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Carenina.

Protective Custody

Between watching recordings of the Rugby World Cup quarter final matches featuring Wales and France then Japan and South Africa, I wandered round the garden.

When we arrived here five years ago a variegated myrtle bush that had grown to a tree was in the process of reverting, This meant that the two-toned cultivated leaves had become dark green. Jackie and I have twice removed all those of the pristine hue, but we have been fighting a losing battle.

This morning Aaron stripped the lower trunk to reveal its colourful bark. Thus we admitted defeat.

Nasturtiums, continuing to scale the trellis in front of the garage door, are hoping they will get away without a frost this winter.

Some of the more established pelargoniums

remain outside in their pots, whereas

others, with begonias

and fuchsias have already been taken into protective custody in the greenhouse.

Dahlias are still in season,

and the Rose Garden features carpet roses,

Absolutely Fabulous,

Special Anniversary,

and Lady Emma Hamilton.

Self-seeded bidens, like these floral cuckoos among heliotrope and petunias remain ubiquitous.

This recently planted panicum Warrior grass has taken well to the Weeping Birch Bed.

The solanum swaddling the dead tree will probably be blooming long after the birch has shed its leaves.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s flavoursome cottage pie; tasty carrots and Brussels sprouts; and tender green beans, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Malbec.

Our Joint One Good Knee

Last night I watched a recording of Saturday’s breathtaking rugby match between Wales and South Africa; after lunch today the soporific contest between Scotland and Argentina.
Bright sunshine had taken me into the rather cold garden this morning.

Winter pansies and trailing ivy adorn hanging baskets on the sitting room walls.

Geraniums

and Japanese maples brighten several vistas.

Surprises include lingering snapdragons

and nascent honeysuckle.

Ubiquitous flamboyant fuchsias continue to flounce among the beds.

Clematises needing warmer weather have died back from the gazebo, but the Cirrhosa Freckles will enliven their support right through until spring.

Carpet roses, like this one in the Weeping Birch Bed, pile on the blooms.

Serpentine stemmed bobbles of Japanese anemones cavort before a spider web in the Rose Garden.

A few crinkly leaves are still to fall from the copper beach;

the Weeping Birch has shed all hers.

Being possessed of our one joint good knee, it fell upon Jackie to fit a new toilet seat in the print room.

This evening we dined on Jackies’s splendid lamb jalfrezi with savoury rice followed by profiteroles. My wife drank Hoegaarden; sister Elizabeth drank Hop House lager; and I drank Tesco’s finest Médoc 2016.

The Bleeding Arch

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Jackie spent much of the day on giving the Rose Garden a thorough Autumn Clean. This involved extensive weeding, clearing all the paths, sweeping, pruning, thinning out, and dead heading. All the refuse was then carried to the Orange Bags for eventual transmission to the dump. Reducing the heucheras produced numerous plants for transplanting elsewhere. I rendered minimal assistance. The background paths and soil in these photographs is as worthy of perusal as the flowers.

Naturally, we took this evening’s pre-prandial potations in this space where, earlier, I had not noticed how the Ace Reclaim arch bled for Crown Princess Margareta.

This evening the three of us dined on Jackie’s splendid pork paprika; super savoury rice; al dente mange touts; and sautéed peppers, onions and mushrooms. Mrs Knight drank Hoegaarden and Elizabeth and I consumed more of the Fleurie.

Late Summer Blooms

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While Jackie, weeded, watered, and planted, my main gardening task today was extensive dead-heading. If anyone spots any heads I’ve missed in the following photographs, I’ll thank you for not mentioning it.

We have many petunias. These, with geraniums and erigeron, grace the sitting room wall.

These, in a basket hanging over the shady path, blend well with a dangling fuchsia and lobelia above;

accompany begonias,

like these above the Dragon Bed,

or are planted in beds.

Dahlias, such as Bishop of Lllandaff,

and some I can’t identify are cropping up everywhere.

This last trio grace the West Bed alongside the Dead End Path.

A furry bee is cleverly camouflaged by the red and yellow one.

Other bees explore a carpet rose

and a salvia,

two varieties of which are potted at the corner of the Kitchen Bed.

These chrysanthemums speak to the phlox behind.

I have no idea how many geraniums fill this stone urn nearby. Last autumn they were all little broken stems that the Head Gardener stuck in soil and nurtured through the winter.

Hibiscuses and Japanese anemones such as these on opposite sides of the Brick Path are typical of late summer blooms.

Another happy juxtaposition is that of the penstemons and Festive Jewel in the Rose Garden.

The climbing fuchsia Lady in Black, against the pink hydrangea backdrop, has begun its ascent up the new arch beside the greenhouse;

while the White clematis climbing the obelisk in the Kitchen Bed still flowers.

Jackie has produced her own individual signage for our paths,

and such as the Cryptomeria.

Finally, here is a view across the Palm Bed.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s lemon chicken, breaded mushrooms, boiled potatoes, crunchy carrots, and crisp spring greens. One of the advantages of being a wine drinker is that, after a tipple on the patio, I have some left for my dinner. It doesn’t seem to work like that with Hoegaarden. I drank Cimarosa, reserva privada cabernet sauvignon 2012.

Where’s That Smile?

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The lower temperature brought a cooler and more pleasant day on which The Head Gardener continued her creative planting, serious weeding, and cutting back. I dead-headed roses, carted debris to the compost heap, and made a few pictures.

The planting on the kitchen wall now seems complete. But you can never be sure. It might be possible to squeeze in something else.

Surely, however, the corner viewed from the patio has more than its share of hanging baskets

and a profusion of pots beneath them.

Even the kitchen window reflects its eponymous bed.

This is the stone urn standing behind the frog pond on the patio end.

We have a number of carpet roses which provide a profusion of ground cover. This one in the Rose Garden flirts with Love Knot and Alan Titchmarsh.

Some of you may prefer Hot Chocolate.

Mama Mia produces a splendid show,

and, Emma Hamilton hangs her heavy head into the arms of Absolutely Fabulous.

Super Elfin, the red rambler in the herbaceous border, virtually uprooted by the beast coming under the North Breeze fence, has benefited from our deterrents and promises to climb to dizzy heights.

Of all the spindly little plants that have received nurture from Jackie, she is justifiably proud of two colourful hydrangeas with dark-trimmed leaves.

It has taken two years to train this clematis, now mingling with rosa glauca on the arch spanning the Head Gardener’s Walk.

The New Forest is not new. It was, after all where William Rufus, son of William the Conqueror, was killed. But, like Jackie’s New Bed, now two years old, it was once. Both are ageing gracefully.

Did you, as a child, ever have a kaleidoscope toy? If so, I imagine you could have produced something like this verbena, nature’s own.

We have many antirrhinums. Here is a red one.

Jackie took the occasional rest. Sometimes she sat on the Ace Reclaim bench where she could admire her plantings such as the petunias in this hanging basket;

the blue phlox in the bed facing her;

the Phantom Path;

the sculpture entitled Florence, now perhaps bidding for the name Flora;

and the view across Margery’s bed with its proliferation of day lilies,

other examples of which are these.

Did you spot both smiles?

This evening, the friendly Mr Chan produced our meal, which Jackie collected from Hordle Chinese Take Away. I finished Jessie’s excellent Chablis.