clematis Duchess of Albany

Nugget, You’ve Got Mail

This morning while Jackie applied herself to unearthing food for Nugget, I occupied myself with dead-heading roses. The two photographs above are a day’s relief for eyes which struggled with yesterday’s “Where’s Nugget?”.

Hearing Jackie clearly speaking Avian I thought at first she had been addressing her little robin, but in fact it was “those ruddy randy pigeons”.

Here are two examples of the Head Gardener’s happy planting. We have pink Japanese anemones fronting similarly hued phlox in the first picture and a melange of begonias, pelargoniums, fuchsias, more of the anemones in the patio bed.

Lwbut has requested close ups of the Japanese anemones. There you go, Bob.

There is evidence from their webs that we are breeding vegan spiders – either that or they are currently constantly being disappointed.

Bees are busy with cosmoses, and sampling various vintages of Summer Wine.

Clematis has granted her presence to the Rose Garden arbour.

Although we have flotillas of Small White butterflies fluttering throughout the garden, we have very few other species, but we do have humming bird moths in phlox.

This afternoon Nugget received his first piece of snail mail.

This card, when opened, plays a recording of a robin’s song. The words inside, in Auntie Becky’s handwriting, state that she chose the card for the words – i.e. the birdsong.

Jackie and I spent a considerable amount of time getting our heads round how to record stuff on her camera. We managed it. I uploaded it into my computer and WordPress wouldn’t support the file format. I was, of course, my usual phlegmatic self on discovering this.

With the late afternoon growing duller and cooler, my chauffeuse drove us on a short trip into the forest.

A colourful range of heathers and bracken beginning to brown spread carpets across the moorland beside Holmsley Passage.

We thought it best to allow this beefy bovine free passage on the Burley road.

We spotted these rather splendid mushrooms along Bisterne Close.

Jackie produced a lovely lamb’s liver casserole with creamy mashed potatoes, crunchy cauliflower and carrots with tender green beans for our dinner this evening. She drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Malbec.

September Approaches

CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE. REPEAT IF REQUIRED.

Although, like this on these marigolds, a certain amount of ash remains from the North Breeze bonfire,

the prevailing wind has changed and the fire much less prevalent. The mechanical digger glimpsed over the fence is levelling the now plantless next door garden.

This afternoon we both took up deadheading again. When I became bored with snipping, I wandered around with the camera for a while.

This is a view from Margery’s Bed looking towards the Rose Garden

where Rosa Gaujard is among the flourishing roses

and Clematis Duchess of Albany festoons the arbour.

Alongside the Brick Path

lies the Palm Bed with its resplendent rudbeckia and Japanese anemones.

From the Shady Path we are led towards the house.

Just visible among the wisteria leaves these rich red dahlias stand proud,

while a striated variety remains out of range to the left of the picture.

This similar view from further along the path

contains the hanging basket featuring bell-like begonias.

Delicate pink Crinum Powellii swamp lilies float over

the Cryptomeria Bed.

All the hanging baskets demonstrate their gratitude that their thirst has been regularly slaked.

Clematises like Star of India continue to shine,

and New Guinea impatiens brightens several beds.

I didn’t get around to deadheading these cosmoses, because

Jackie brought me the telephone which emitted the voice of our mortgage advisor. I needed to return inside, turn on the computer, download some documents, and endeavour, with his assistance to understand their contents. This took some time, and I wasn’t up to returning to the gardening afterwards. Instead, I drafted this description of the condition of our garden as September approaches.

This evening we dined at Lymington’s Lal Quilla where, despite the fact that they were very busy, we received our usual warm welcome and friendly service with excellent food. My choice was lamb naga. We shared special fried rice, a plain naan and an onion bhaji; and both drank Kingfisher.

Two Seasons Merge

This morning Aaron and Robin took out three mature self-seeded hawthorn stumps from the front garden, leaving a raked clear soil in situ; they pruned our side of the griselinia trees; and Aaron replaced a missing end cap on the front guttering.

The garden, on this balmy, sun-filled day, remains in full bloom. Autumn and Summer flora mingle happily, as the seasons merge.

Numerous chrysanthemums are in bloom. These recently acquired yellow ones have possibly been forced, but no matter.

Her skin may be showing signs of age, but the clematis Duchess of Albany, frolics gamely on the rose garden pergola, beneath which many roses, such as

Hot Chocolate,

and Margaret Merrill, are flowering profusely. Of a recent listing of the best ten autumn flowering roses Jackie read, we have five. One is Margaret Merrill.

We have forgotten what this dahlia is called, but it is very prolific.

Despite the heavy pruning required for the installation of the Monet Arch at the front, and a blight of black spot, a few pink roses are persevering.

Interspersed with watching two televised quarter final matches of the Rugby World Cup, I continued work on the garden album.

The matches were between Ireland and Argentina, and between Scotland and Australia.

We dined this evening on the other half of the Experiment Pie. It was still delicious. Fresh boiled potatoes, carrots, and green beans accompanied it. Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank Morlands Old Crafty Hen.

The Caribbean Sea

Today was another rainswept blustery day, so I returned to my photographic archives and scanned a dozen slides from May 2004. This was the month in which Sam completed his Atlantic Row, which I have featured from time to time. During the few days waiting for him to arrive in Port St Charles, Barbados, and afterwards, I took the opportunity to roam the Island with my camera. There are many more in this set.

Jessica, Louisa, and I began our stay in an hotel some miles from the finishing point, but soon transferred to join Chris, Frances, and Fiona in one in the luxurious developing holiday playground.

This area presented a stark contrast to how the rest of the inhabitants of Barbados lived. Our hotel was surrounded by a compound patrolled by armed guards to keep out people like a coconut seller seated on the wall outside. His produce looked unappetising and he charged fairly optimistic prices.

Some distance away, a young woman, seated on a rugged outcrop gazing out to sea, was persuaded to rise to her feet.

Port St Charles (Speightstown on the map) lies on the Caribbean Sea to the north west of the Island. To the east storms the Atlantic ocean. The two bodies of water meet at the northern tip of the Island. Rowers need to navigate this point with precision. Too wide and the current would would carry them to Cuba, too near and they would be smashed on these rocks. The competitors rowed in pairs or solo. One of the pairs hit the rocks, and had to be rescued.

These seascapes are of the more gentle Caribbean.

Much less inviting was the dark, violent, Atlantic that, on the last couple of days, swept my son so fast towards his final destination that he dropped his anchor to slow himself down in order to arrive in daylight. Not for him, Cuba or the rocks.

Late this afternoon the rain desisted and the sun put in a brief appearance.

The red hot pokers were not extinguished,

and raindrops glistened on day lilies,

dahlias,

the clematis Duchess of Albany,

Priscilla, the gladiolus,

the Absolutely Fabulous rose,

and any others you care to imagine.

This evening we dined on a rack of pork ribs in barbecue sauce, and Jackie’s chicken in black bean sauce, stir fry vegetable noodles, and rice noodles, followed by rice pudding. I drank more of the cabernet sauvignon, and Jackie abstained.