Tag: Charles Keeping

Hoverflies Can Stand The Heat

This afternoon seemed even too hot for bees. Jackie continued her garden maintenance work. My contribution included trimming the edges of the lawn, a modicum of dead heading, and acting as the Head Gardener’s bagman, to and fro the compost bins.

We enjoyed, however, a host of hoverflies, seen here on For Your Eyes Only, Verbena Bonariensis, red carpet rose, Rosa Gallica, and a Marguerite.

One of the few bees in evidence took a rest on a somewhat chewed hemerocallis leaf.

Later this afternoon, I scanned the next four of Charles Keeping’s illustrations to Dickens’s David Copperfield.

Writhing as Dickens describes, ‘He sat, with that carved grin on his face, looking at the fire’.

‘Miss Murdstone marched us into breakfast as if it were a soldier’s funeral’. Keeping’s portrait is true to his earlier ones.

‘The street was not as desirable a one as I could have wished it to be’

‘Traddles cut the mutton into slices; Mr Micawber covered them with pepper, mustard, salt, and cayenne’

This evening we dined on tender roast beef; fried potatoes and onions; crisp Yorkshire pudding; firm carrots, broccoli, and runner beans, with which I finished the Shiraz and Jackie drank more of the Sauvignon Blanc.

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.

Path Clearances

Today continued with warm clammy-inducing humidity. The morning was still drizzly; although the afternoon was dry.

We both carried out further stints on the ironing backlog; Jackie’s before, and mine mainly after, lunch.

During the last few days, the Head Gardener has continued clearing the borders of paths such as the Phantom Path, the Cryptomeria Bed footpath, and the Brick Path. I helped her bag up the clippings from the latter.

The hanging baskets and other containers on the kitchen corner are filling out nicely. Having trimmed the fading Chilean Lantern tree has opened the red bottle brush plant to better viewing.

Elsewhere rose Just Joey is benefiting from trimming of the red carpet rose, and day lilies and gladioli mingle with geraniums.

As the afternoon wore on the light feigned the midnight hour. Suddenly a solitary thunder clap ushered in a brief torrential downpour which, like a Swedish runner practicing Fartlek training, varied its pace as it continued its descent. Fast periods dwindled to steady drizzle, then picked up tempo and repeated the process.

I read more of Charles Dickens’s novel, David Copperfield, and scanned four more of Charles Keeping’s illustrations displaying examples of his extensive range of portraiture.

‘I waltz with the eldest Miss Larkins’

‘I came out into the rainy street, at twelve o’clock at night’ looks as if Mr Keeping knows what is outside my window.

‘She was introduced as Miss Dartle’, complete with the scar the author describes.

‘Mr Peggotty laid his niece’s face with a gentle pride and love upon his broad chest, and patted it’, demonstrates the artist’s sensitivity to the author’s characterisation.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s spicy pasta arrabbiata with which she drank more of the Sauvignon Blanc and I drank more of the Fleurie.

The Last Of The Cemeteries Project

I experienced another of what I now recognise to be barometric pressure headaches through the night and morning, so the first part of the day was a washout.

After lunch and a doze through an Antiques Road Trip recording I perked up enough to watch the Wimbledon women’s singles final between Ashleigh Barty and Karolina Pliskova, and employ my scanner to produce images, first of Charles Keeping’s inimitable illustrations to my Folio Society edition of David Copperfield, and subsequently of the last few slides from my cemeteries project.

First the memorable drawings:

‘An ugly old man rushed out and seized me by the hair of my head’

‘I beheld Miss Murdstone, on a side-saddle, ride deliberately over the sacred piece of green, and stop in front of the house’. As always, this portrait is faithful to one featured earlier in the book.

Keeping’s particular mastery of perspective is demonstrated in ‘He stood at the pony’s head, looking up at us in the chaise’

‘We found Annie lying on the hall floor’ displays the artist’s flowing lines.

‘It was Mr Micawber!’

Now the memorials found in Tower Hamlets Cemetery in March 2009:

The third image shows a pigeon perched atop the Cowderoy gravestone; the fifth displays an example of the genealogical research that has enabled symbols of family trees for those stones that have succumbed to time’s erosion. Bigification by accessing the gallery with a click is recommended.

This evening we dined on tasty lasagna garnished with basil and plentiful fresh salad with which Jackie drank Blue Moon and I finished the Cotes du Rhone.

Breathing Space

On another rather sultry morning we made good progress in

weeding the Rose Garden, thus giving breathing space to blooms such as

roses peach/orange Mamma Mia; pure white Margaret Merrill; pinkish Alan Titchmarsh; the recently righted New Dawn; and plants such as penstemon put in for variety.

Later, I read four more chapters of David Copperfield and scanned a page containing a Charles Keeping illustration for each one.

‘It was Miss Murdstone who was arrived, and a gloomy-looking lady she was’

Readers who have been following this series of Keeping’s illustrations to Dickens’s novels will know that the artist uses larger figures in the foreground to indicate receding perspective. In ‘Still, nobody appeared to claim the dusty youngster from Blunderstone, Suffolk’ the diminutive such figure shows how small is the boy.

‘The wooden-legged man turned me about again, with my face to Mr Creakle, and posted himself at Mr Creakle’s side’

‘ ‘I take my leave of you’, said Mr Mell’

This afternoon I watched the Wimbledon Tennis match between Dan Evans and Sebastian Korda.

We dined this evening on the last portion of Jackie’s splendid beef pie, amplified by minced cooked with onions, mushrooms and peas; crunchy carrots and cauliflower; and tender runner beans, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Cotes du Rhone.

I then settled down to watch the tennis match between Andy Murray and Denis Shapovalov.

David Copperfield Is Born

On a most oppressively humid morning we continued with garden maintenance. Jackie weeded, planted, trimmed and composted while I dead-headed roses,

dug out two self seeded elder trees, and bagged up some of the refuse.

Steady rain set in after lunch. During a lull I dug out some brambles from the back drive borders, until a direct drenching downpour sent me dashing inside. A later let up enabled me to finish my task and grab a couple of pictures.

During the rest of the afternoon I began rereading:

The title page is accompanied by ‘I saw him lying with his head upon his arm, as I have often seen him lie at school. (p.727)’ offering an example of Mr Keeping’s imaginative perspectives.

As before, I will not add my own observations on this very well known classic, but will post Charles Keeping’s inimitable illustrations as I make my way along this novel of which Charles Dickens wrote in his preface to the 1869 edition: ‘Of all my books, I like this the best,’

‘ ‘Why, bless my heart!’ exclaimed Miss Betsey. ‘You are a very Baby!’ ‘

‘Mr Murdstone and I were soon off, and trotting along on the green turf’ – another vehicle for Keeping’s perspective skill.

‘We stopped to exchange an innocent kiss’ – keeping a safe distance.

Jackie had spent the afternoon at a very well catered for baby shower. She therefore had no need of a meal this evening, yet, for me she

reprised yesterday’s delicious marinaded chicken meal.

The Rebellion

Having now completed my reading of Charles Dickens’s “Nicholas Nickleby”, I scanned the last four of the dramatic and insightful Charles Keeping’s illustrations from my Folio Society edition of 1986.

‘They pressed forward to see’

‘ ‘Come,’ said Tim, ‘let’s be a comfortable couple’

‘The rebellion had just broken out’

‘One grey-haired, quiet, harmless gentleman’

Christopher Hibbert’s informative introduction puts this book – one of his earliest – in the context of the author’s life and times. Despite the campaign against the sadistic, exploitative, Yorkshire schools there is much of Dickens’s witty humour in this story of tragedy, romance, and mystery. It is so well known as to need no further comment from me.

Throughout this series Keeping’s drawings speak for themselves.

This afternoon, in order to make inroads into the weeds piercing the Rose Garden Brick Paths, I tore myself away from the Test Match commentary until after the tea break.

Here are two images from before my efforts;

and two scraped out and swept.

Jackie continued with much tidying and planting.

This evening we dined on pork chops coated with almonds; crisp roast potatoes and Yorkshire pudding; crunchy carrots; firm cauliflower and broccoli, with tasty gravy. Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank Collin-Bourisset Fleurie 2019.

At The Tea Interval

On a drab, drearily dull, day I tuned into the start of the second cricket Test Match between England and New Zealand, and scanned eight more of Charles Keeping’s excellent illustrations to Charles Dickens’s ‘Nicholas Nickleby’.

In turning ‘Nicholas found Bray lying on the floor quite dead, and his daughter clinging to the body’ upside down, Charles Keeping has given the image an additionally morbid perspective.

‘Mrs Nickleby would draw up a chair and run through a great variety of distracting topics in the most distracting manner possible’

In ‘Some of the neighbours threw up their windows and called across the street to each other’ the artist has sprawled across two pages, symbolising the crossing of the street.

‘As they stole further and further in, the old hag and Squeers were busily occupied with their tasks’ gives Keeping the opportunity to display perspective by having the foreground figure burst from the frame.

‘With eyes almost starting from their sockets, and in a fit of trembling which quite convulsed his frame, Smile was shrieking to him for help’

Keeping’s trademark dog in the street appears in the foreground of ‘To Gride’s house Ralph directed his steps, now thoroughly alarmed and fearful’

‘Ralph sat down, pressing his two hands upon his temples’

‘ ‘That’s my own brave Kate!’ said Nicholas, pressing her to his breast’

During the cricket tea interval and for a while afterwards I cleared and transferred to the compost bins some of Jackie’s weeding refuse, then wandered around with my camera.

Jackie continued planting hanging baskets and other containers

on the patio.

Other views include those beside the wisteria and along the Shady Path, where, beyond the shot containing the Arthur Bell rose,

a red climber stands over a spanning wooden arch;

the peeling bark of the eucalyptus; from Margery’s poppies through the Cryptomeria Bed; and

the Rose Garden, including

pink Mum in a Million, peach Flower Power, white Winchester Cathedral, yellow Crown Princess Margareta and Absolutely Fabulous, red and pink For Your Eyes Only, white Kent carpet rose, and pink Festive Jewel.

This evening we dined on succulent lemon chicken and roast potatoes; crisp Yorkshire pudding; firm carrots and broccoli, with tasty gravy. Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Cotes de Gascogne.

Cleaning And Weeding

Today’s weather reverted to the cool and dull variety.

This afternoon, after reading more of the book, I scanned the next five of Charles Keeping’s illustrations to Charles Dickens’s ‘Nicholas Nickleby’.

‘Nothing was visible but a pair of legs, which were dangling above the grate’

‘And still the riot went on …’

‘ ‘The devil’s in this woman,’ muttered Arthur’

‘It was not exactly a hairdresser’s; people of a coarse and vulgar turn of mind have called it a barber’s’

‘Thieves! thieves!’ shrieked the usurer, starting up’

This afternoon, Elizabeth visited with Birthday Presents for Jackie and her gardening kit. While I listened to the Test Match between England and New Zealand, the ladies worked in the garden.

Elizabeth weeded the brick section of the Oval Path, while Jackie cleaned the decking and tidied some planters.

Elizabeth stayed for dinner which consisted on Jackie’s spicy pasta arrabbiata with tender runner beans. The Culinary Queen drank Hoegaarden while my sister and I drank Patrick Chodot Fleurie 2019.

Nesting

Albeit originally dry, today’s bright start, beset by grey sheep’s wool skies and drizzling rain, descended into cooler dankness.

My morning session devoted to WordPress comments was extended by the distraction from shaking branches of a crab apple tree in which the cumbersome barrage balloon of a nest-building wood pigeon thumped into the boughs clutching a selection of tightrope walkers’ balancing poles before diving into the foliage, emerging empty beaked and blundering off for a refill.

You may care to bigify these images by clicking on any one to access the gallery in order to discern the size of the nest twigs.

Jackie, meanwhile, having inadvertently discovered a robin’s nest while tidying up some boxes a couple of days ago

took a chance on quickly snapping the babies today. Since the earlier discovery, the parents have continued to carry in food through the gap beside the rusty iron bar.

This afternoon I read a little more of Nicholas Nickleby, enabling me to scan four more of Charles Keeping’s illustrations to Charles Dickens’s novel.

‘Mr Snawley tucked the poor fellow’s head under his arm in a most uncouth and awkward embrace’

‘Within ‘the rules’ ‘ illustrates life in the Liberties of The King’s Bench Prison – an area covering three square miles around the prison where those inmates who could afford it could purchase the liberty to live there. (Wikipedia)

‘Arthur Gride sat in a low chair looking up into the face of Ralph Nickleby’ reminds me of a tax inspector I once knew who always sat his interviewees in a lower chair to establish his power. I explained that I did the opposite for the opposite reason.

‘Nicholas found himself poring with the utmost interest over a large play-bill’

This evening we dined on succulent roast chicken and tasty parsnips; creamy mashed potatoes; crisp Yorkshire pudding; crunchy carrots; tender greens, and flavoursome gravy with which Jackie finished the Sauvignon Blanc and I started on the Barossa Valley Shiraz 2017.