clematis – Page 5 – derrickjknight

Doing The Hokey Cokey

CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE. REPEAT IF REQUIRED

We continued with the garden clearing after the storm today. It was so hot that it was a case of ‘In, Out, In, Out’ from the cooler indoors to the stifling outside as we continued with the tasks begun yesterday. Hopefully, we are back to normal now.

Here is a view of the Dragon Bed and Shady Path;

one of the Gazebo;

and another of the Brick Path. (the tall plant on the left is fennel)

With minor editing on my part, Wikipedia tells us that ‘The hokey cokey (United Kingdom), hokey tokey (New Zealand) , or hokey pokey (United States, Canada, Ireland, Australia, the Caribbean, Mexico) is a participation dance with a distinctive accompanying tune and lyric structure. Originating as a British folk dance, with variants attested as early as 1826, the song and accompanying dance peaked in popularity as a music hall song and novelty dance in the mid-1940s in Britain and Ireland. The song was a chart hit twice in the 1980s – first by The Snowmen which peaked at UK #18 in 1981, and then Black Lace who reached #31 in 1985.’ It remains today a popular feature of cross-generational knees-ups.

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rzQ9K7-J_PM&w=420&h=315]

The Snowmen, otherwise known as Ian Drury and the Blockheads, had a surprise hit with their Christmas single in 1981. They, and a bunch of assorted children, entertaining an elderly neighbour at her window, danced their hokey cokey in a blizzard. We, lacking an audience, performed ours in a heatwave.

Mr Chatty Man Chan, of Hordle Chinese Take Away, provided our dinner this evening. I drank Doom Bar beer and Jackie drank fruit juice.

The Watcher Watched

CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE. REPEAT IF REQUIRED.

After a leisurely breakfast we left Aaron, his nephew Rory, and Robin working on the fencing while Jackie drove the two of us, Jessie, and Guru to Ferndene Farm Shop for our friends to shop for their return.

This was such a hot, heavy, and overcast day that the Ferndene pigs had even less energy than we did.

One managed to snuffle around in a hole;

another was spark out.

Across the road, the thatching of The Homestead is complete.

After this we drove on to the cliff top overlooking The Solent, where a number of yachts sailed in the hazy sunlight. We were able to point out The Needles and their lighthouse.

The beach was quite populated.

One group walked past beach huts, one of which was clearly in use,

and settled down near the water’s edge.

Meanwhile, a gentleman emerged from the hut and raised his binoculars. The watcher was watched.

The above photographs were all taken with the Canon SX700 HS, because I hadn’t anticipated needing the zoom lens, and hadn’t tried out the fixed one.

Back home we continued a very enjoyable weekend over lunch, before Jessie and Guru returned to North London.

Later, I tried out the 55mm lens on the EOS D5 Mk ii.

Every time I pass this chimney pot planted with lobelia shoulders and cosmos crown, I have a sense of being stalked.

After vigorous bondage from The Head Gardener, the clematis Ville de Lyon now stretches across the side wall of No. 5 Downton Lane along our Back Drive,

and outside the kitchen window, Marie Boisselot is having a second flush.

This evening, Jackie and I dined on her superlative chicken jalfrezi, boiled rice, and parathas. She drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Fleurie.

Remembering The Bees

We managed a good morning’s work before the rain set in later in the afternoon.

I cut the grass while Jackie clipped more of the Back Drive hedge.

Part of this consisted of a fuchsia which, despite severe autumn haircuts, has really become very unkempt overgrown. Because it was the only reasonable plant in this area when we arrived were were reluctant to remove it. We have still kept a small section, but the main cluster just had to go. Discovering that it could not just be dug out without serious damage to the garden forks, Jackie employed her tried and tested Time Team technique requiring the use of a trowel. I then wielded a woodman’s axe to hack out the roots.

This clematis and these poppies form part of the planting separating the drive from the gravelled patio, in one corner of which

the hydrangea Serrata Miranda, behind and to the right of the planted urn, is thriving.

Between this plot and the Rose Garden, Elizabeth’s Bed is nicely plumped up.

The rose Ballerina dances us into the Rose Garden,

blending nicely with Florence’s petunias.

Summertime ascends the corner of the orange shed,

and the first Deep Secret bloom has survived balling from the rain to flower well enough. Balling is the term given to the soggy balls to which unopened roses are reduced when they are subjected to lengthy precipitation.

The solanum has taken over from the now spent clematis Montana the task of brightening the dead tree stump beside the New Bed.

Wedding Day rose, attracting hoverflies and beetles,

is now preparing to cast its veil over the Agriframes Arch.

Evening primrose blooms on the Back Drive northern bed,

where poppies are buzzing with bees,

which, when they expressed their disgruntlement at my poking a camera up their bums by turning on me and crawling around my head and neck, took me back to my first desperate encounter with the creatures.

In fact the only poppies that don’t harbour these beings are Californian.

This evening we dined on Mr Pink’s fish and chips, pea fritters, pickled onion, and gherkins. Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Carles.

The Magic Carpet

CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE. REPEAT IF REQUIRED.

Having spent much of the night watching the BBC’s presentation of the unfolding of the EU referendum, I wasn’t up to much this morning.

I did, however, post my day 5 offering on the Facebook nature series.

This was it. It appeared on my WordPress post Earthworks, of 29th September 2015.

I then occupied myself with dead-heading, and, after lunch, cut off more of the hedge along the back drive. Although there was very little rain, the sun made only fleeting visits, enough to encourage this

determined hoverfly to hitch a ride on the tempest-tossed magic carpet that was a single, clinging, poppy petal. As the insect rode the turbulent waves, not a slither did it make.

As so often, the evening was bright and sunny. We took an amble around the garden.

The rose Wedding Day, a prolific climber, is just coming into bloom on the Agriframes arch.

Also flowering is the rodgersia

that dominates the foreground of this view along the Cryptomeria Bed.

The Dragon Bed and the Head Gardener’s Walk are now both well established.

This evening we dined at Lymington’s Royal China where we received the usual efficient, friendly, service and excellent food, accompanied by Tsingtao beer.

We enjoyed some splendid sunsets overlooking Christchurch Bay on our return via Milford on Sea.

A Wildlife Garden

CLICK ON IMAGES (ESPECIALLY THE CRICKET) TO ENLARGE. REPEAT (ESPECIALLY THE CRICKET) IF REQUIRED.

DID I MENTION THE CRICKET?

It is two years since we were last assisting our friend Giles in opening his garden in Milford on Sea. Once more, today, we took the first stint in his rota.

Overnight rain had only recently desisted at 11 a.m., so Jackie, on the door, had plenty of opportunity to work on her puzzles,

while Giles and I chatted until the first visitors arrived.

Blu-tacked onto the entrance window is a well-deserved certificate.

Beneath this is one of the gardener’s creative sculptures, made from found objects. The upright stone was once part of a window in Southwell Minster.

Here is another from the bottom of the garden.

This one contains examples of his stained glass work,

as does this view from the sitting room, showing the artefact on which stands his tree encircled by butterflies.

A further creation on the decking is seen through the French windows.

Pebbles and granite sets creating paths and other features were all collected over a number of years from on and around the nearby beaches.

Seventeen years ago, this rambling haven was almost completely grassed over. It is now packed with trees, shrubs, and other features attractive to wildlife.

Raindrops still pilled on the fibres of smoke tree;

foxgloves;

clematis;

and osteospermum – even on the little cricket’s antennae.

A notice visible in the second clematis picture indicates and lists the uses of the wildlife hotel;

another extols the value of viper’s bugloss to bees.

I expect these latter enjoy delphiniums, too, although blue is Giles’s favourite flower colour.

Had the rain persisted, no doubt this hut, with its natural seat, would have filled up with visitors;

certainly the pond would have topped up with water.

This evening we dined on the rest of the Chinese Takeaway, and both drank Kingfisher.

Various Stages Of Life

CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE THEM. REPEAT IF REQUIRED

The experts on the antiques programme Bargain Hunt, which we generally watch at lunchtime, tell us that silver items should not be polished, for that activity eventually obliterates the hallmarks. Many antique book dealers also believe that uncut book pages should be left in their pristine condition because taking a knife to them reduces their value.

This poses the question whether treasures are to be preserved in figurative amber and never used, or to be enjoyed for what they are

I had no qualms about taking a sharp kitchen knife to the pages of

a delightfully told political fable.

It is always interesting to speculate on who has read an old book, or indeed whether it has been read at all. In the old days when books were still well made to last, the pages were often joined at the edges and required cutting, as indicated above, in order to read them. So, if, as in this 1921 publication, you found uncut pages, you knew no-one else’s fingers had left their marks on the virginal leaves. It is such a pleasure to know that you were the first, and gives you a responsibility to take great care of your chosen treasure.

Although this slender little volume from The Bodley Head is illustrated throughout, I have chosen to restrain any impulse to scan the internal pages; because straining the spine to flatten the book in the scanner seems too high a price to pay; and because the woodcuts don’t appeal to me, as they display the heaviness I associate with Black Forest carving, thus denying the elegance of the text in translation by J. Lewis May.

Without our double glazing I may have been able to eavesdrop on this avian conversation through the sitting room window.

My contribution to the general garden maintenance of the day was to hold the steps and otherwise assist The Head Gardener in retraining clematises at the front.

This photograph was executed with one hand on the steps, and the other on the camera.

Clematises such as this one don’t yet need such mountaineering feats to support them;

and the hanging baskets are within easy reach.

While tidying her containers behind the shed, Jackie has found a nest from which the chicks have hedged and flown without our knowing it was there.

She has also found the thalictrum’s true element in the Cryptomeria Bed.

Visible in the Dragon Bed in the centre of this Shady Path view,

we have a new peony bloom.

This view along The Phantom Path leads us to the Rose Garden,

up the entrance of which Madame Alfred Carière and Summer Wine are speedily making their way;

and within, Jacqueline du Pré displays various stages of life.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s delicious chicken jalfrezi with egg fried rice. She drank Hoegaarden, and I drank more of the Fleurie.

The Dymo Marker

CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE THEM. REPEAT IF REQUIRED. THERE ARE NO HIDDEN OWLS TODAY, HOWEVER…..

Well, I did cut the grass, and wander round the garden, but that was along time ago. The rest of the day was spent preparing my finances for my very efficient accountant. Had I done even a modicum of filing any time during the last seven months, the task may have been a little more exciting. But I didn’t. So it wasn’t.

Jackie, however, may have found her own awesome effort, rather more satisfying.

She spent the whole day resuscitating a small section of the Dragon Bed. This involved the usual method of improving the soil with compost; finger-fishing for thousands of tiny allium bulbs; prising out buried lumps of stone which now form the access path you see here; and planting new residents.

We have also been clearing the Palm Bed; enough to allow a glimpse of a hidden peony.

The inherited clematis on the Shady Path is doing well,

as is the rose Special Anniversary, in the Rose Garden where

Festive Jewel begins a bid to compete with the fluorescent heucheras.

I swear that wherever there is a breeze we can hear the jingling of Spanish doubloons.

The red mimuluses in the hanging basket slung here, not only survived the mild winter, but also self-seeded in the camouflaged blue painted Butler sink below.

The viburnum plicatum becomes daily more glorious.

This is a view from the Shady Bed towards the Waterboy;

and another across the Phantom Path, leading to the revived yellow-leaved tree, on which, when we arrived, only the bottom right hand branch bore foliage.

As we sat in the Rose Garden with our pre-dinner drinks I reflected from my chair on what it would look like when all these plants were in full bloom.

Now, boring as my day mostly was, it did have one major benefit. Jackie has painstakingly written her plant labels in black permanent marker. Unfortunately this is not proof against the wind and the rain. My files are all labelled with a Dymo Marker, which I thought would be longer lasting. So I showed her how to work it, and she was away.

Mister Chatty Man, proprietor of Hordle Chinese Take Away, provided our dinner this evening. Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank Reserve des Tuguets madiran 2012.

Precipitation

AS ALWAYS, CLICK ON ANY IMAGE YOU WISH TO ENLARGE. REPEAT IF REQUIRED

Keeping out of the kitchen this morning was just not an option. The enticing aromas of tonight’s dinner would not permit it. Preparation of Jackie’s delicious chicken jalfrezi was under way. The spicy fragrance and enticing colours of food from the Indian sub-continent would, if necessary, compensate for lack of taste. They don’t even have to think about that, for their flavours are second to none.

Initially I resisted, until the bubbling sauce got the better of me;

and the tomato puree added rich colour.

Jackie normally likes to fry the chopped chicken pieces separately, but they had not been defrosted in time, so

in they slid,

and the tempting mixture continued cooking, until,

with the addition of ample chicken stock, the pan simmered away the early part of the afternoon,

until the lid was removed to release the condensed liquid and allow the meal to thicken up.

Heavy overnight rain and a thick cloud layer rendered the garden an inverted version of the pan lid. When the precipitation ceased

a bedraggled fly still sought shelter among the liquid drops on the crab apple blossom;

our first large blue clematis bloom had taken a battering;

and the first offerings of an early rhododendron,

rose Shropshire Lad,

and tree peony, were all somewhat soggy.

Early this evening the weather was dry enough for us to sit in the rose garden for pre-dinner drinks. The higher and brighter notes of the small birds combined with the deeper ones of the wood pigeons, against the repeated refrain of The Needles lighthouse fog warning.

A weeping Madame Alfred Carriere had popped out during the day,

in time to catch the mist rolling in from the sea.

Meat samosas, egg fried rice, and paneer in a curry sauce, were served with the aforementioned stependous jalfrezi. Sticky toffee pudding and cream was to follow. Jackie drank Hoegaarden, and I started another bottle of the Cotes du Rhone.

A New Fashion Print

Jackie spent most of another fine spring day working on her soil replenishment project. Can you spot her?

You certainly can now

that the sunlight has provided her with a new fashion print.

To the left of the eucalyptus can be seen one of the freshly planted mimuluses. Here is another.

The red Japanese maple stands at the bottom right of the opening picture. It is also evident in this view from the frog pond. Actually the pond is a filled cistern containing water lilies and no frogs. It acquired its name when Jackie unearthed the stone amphibians in the undergrowth.

I provided a modicum of assistance in the soil replenishment process; carted compost about; did some watering; and dug a big hole, filling it with more nutritious matter, for a lost label clematis. The benefit of such a buy is that you get much more for your money, and the fun of waiting to find the answer to more of what. Behind the plant is our insect hotel.

Different crane’s bill geraniums are coming into bloom,

as is the small convolvulus cneorum on the back drive.

The bees are still preferring the pulmonaria to anything else on offer.

Just as the morning light illuminated the start of Jackie’s final day on this particular soil transplant, the evening sun cast shadows across the finished job.

It was greenfinches, resting from feverish flitting from tree to tree, that overlooked our evening rose garden drinks; this one from the relative safety of a neighbour’s garden.

Jackie is beginning to worry that the splendid heucheras she planted as a border to the roses might overawe the main attraction.

Our dinner this evening consisted of Mr Pink’s fish and chips, and pickled gherkins and onions from jars in the cupboard, followed by Jackie’s apple and sultana crumble with cream. Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I finished the cabernet sauvignon.

Before And After: The Brick Path

This morning Jackie continued her winter planting, such as this hanging basket and I pruned roses.

Here are today’s offerings from the rose garden:

Laura Ford,

and the climber, Golden Showers.

Following yesterday’s post, Jackie has given the Gazebo Path its correct sign.

This afternoon Jackie drove us to New Milton for me to visit the bank and to buy a return ticket to Nottingham in readiness for my trip to Louisa and Errol and the girls on Sunday.

I then prepared the next section of the saga of the garden, namely the Brick Path.

On 15th April 2014, the cracks were full of weeds, and the urn had yet to be planted up.

By 21st, Jackie had made considerable progress in eradicating weeds on the urn circle;

and by 30th, made her way along the composite brick section.

We tackled the older, original length from opposite ends. It was then that Jackie uttered the phrase: ‘Last one to the chimney pot’s a sissy’.

Some of our visitors, such as my Mum, need sticks for walking. These original bricks had become rather uneven over the years, so we asked Aaron to reset them. On 9th August 2015, his friend Lee, the carpenter who had fitted our stair rails, made a start with him. The following week Aaron finished the task alone.

By this time, the overgrown foliage that had bordered the path on 31st May 2014 had been thinned somewhat.

Two roses and a Virginia creeper were meant to be supported by a rickety wooden structure, most of which had fallen into the undergrowth. By 14th June that year we had bought and installed a new Gothic Arch, retrained the existing climbers, and added a couple of clematises.

This was the south easterly view from this point by 28th September 2015,

by which time the path had mellowed, and an owl had taken up residence in the dead snake bark maple.

Beyond the Gothic Arch and nearer the house, Wedding Day, a huge rambling rose, romped confetti-like across the red-leaved Japanese maple and a mature hebe. It needed some special support. We provided this in the form of an Agriframes Gothic Arch, installed on 30th October 2014.

Even this is insufficient for the prolific climber. It received further heavy pruning on 2nd October 2015.

This evening we dined at the Royal China restaurant in Lymington. Taking the advice of our friendly waitress we halved our order from last time, and just about managed to finish everything. We both drank Tsingtao beer.