coreopsis – derrickjknight

Clamouring For His Close-up

When I began my perambulation round the garden this morning Jackie observed that I was photographing similar subjects to her. She had taken her walk even earlier.

We therefore each produced a gallery in changing light.

This is Jackie’s set. The galleried images each bear identifying titles, some with further descriptions. Click on any image to access them. Each may be viewed full size by clicking on the boxes beneath them. Further enlargement may then be achieved.

Here are my offerings. Please don’t miss what I think is a meadow brown butterfly – see Tootlepedal’s comment below – it’s a Small Heath.

Our HSL chairs were delivered today. We are both more comfortable and, for the first time in my life I have a high enough seat, enabling me once more, post surgery, to rise without the use of my arms.

Afterwards, Jackie carried out more weeding and planting; I cleared refuse to the compost,

and Nugget clamoured for his close-up.

This evening we dined on Tesco finest Pesto & Parmigiano reggiano breaded chicken perfectly heated by the Culinary Queen who served it with buttered Jersey Royal potatoes; roasted chestnut mushrooms; firm flavoursome carrots; and tender runner beans, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Cotes du Rhone.

Lacework

Early this morning Jackie ventured into the garden with her camera to

sweep some cobwebs. Lingering raindrops reveal the arachnid lacework and the length of their funambulist ropes.

The Assistant Photographer also photographed colourful coreopsis in Margery’s Bed;

vibrant Virginia creeper draping the Westbrook Arbour;

and the moisture-laden Rose Garden with its backcloth of mist.

Later in the morning we drove to Milford on Sea pharmacy for a repeat prescription, then to Wessex Photographic in Lymington for a spare ink cartridge.

Shortly before noon we continued to Beaulieu Heath, atop a small hillock on which stood three walkers.

It must have been a relative of Nugget’s perched on a prickly spire because we had left him at home.

There was sprinkling of assorted mushrooms among the browned heather, the spiky gorse, the rough grass and the trailing brambles.

Jackie also photographed a model plane enthusiast with his aircraft.

A pair of ponies, one chestnut and one grey, blended and contrasted with the russet bracken.

As they each ambled across the road, passing the 40 m.p.h. sign painted on the tarmac, I reflected as so often that impact from a vehicle travelling at this speed would surely result in fatal injury.

Some quite large foals, like this one at East End, are still being suckled by their mothers.

Early morning mist usually results in sunny afternoons. So it was today when Nugget supervised Jackie’s planting of tulips.

“Where’s Nugget?” (36).

This evening we dined on Jackie’s succulent sausages in red wine; creamy mashed potatoes; crunchy carrots and cauliflower, with which she drank Blue Moon and I drank more of the Fleurie.

A Nation Uncomfortable With Being Ahead

Today, just as humid, was slightly cooler and breezier, which was just as well, because we made a start on clearing the Head Gardener’s work area to make room for the shed to be delivered in two days time.

First, Jackie needed to plant the rest of her prolific purchases, so I took a walk along to the paddock in Hordle Lane and back.

The deep ditches were now bone dry.

The horses in the paddock, protected by their fly masks, had, early in the morning, no need to shelter under the oak. Watch the one on the left,

now again summoning the customary energy to investigate my presence,

then to be first in the queue for the water trough.

Clematis Mrs N Thompson (not to confused with my daughter, Mrs E Thompson), now mingles with pink roses on the front garden trellis.

Jackie has added this strident perennial coreopsis to the rose garden.

A far more subdued aruncus bows respectfully

alongside the weeping birch,

from where I was able to snap a crow on the far side of Christchurch Road.

These views, one from Fiveways, and two of patio corners, display less recent planting.

This afternoon, on TV, I watched another Brit narrowly miss going through to the fourth round at Wimbledon. This time James Ward lost a five set match to Vasek Pospisil. You have to understand we are a nation not comfortable with being ahead in sport – unless it is cricket against the Australians.

This evening we dined at Lal Quilla. My choice of meal was chicken Jaljala with a plain naan; Jackie’s was prawn Sally with the perfect accompaniment of a delicate lemon rice. We shared an onion bhaji, and both drank Kingfisher. Everything was as good as usual.