Path Clearance

I spent much of the morning recovering the pictures to

This really was a difficult task. None of the pictures was visible – although they were all in my systems I needed Wayback Machine to help me identify them and insert them in the right places. It looks to me as if this is the same for my whole Knight’s Tale series.

Last week, Martin, among other things, cleared weeds from the gravel

of the Oval Path.

Today he worked his way from the entrance to the Rose Garden,

past Florence sculpture at Fiveways,

and along the Gazebo Path. The gravel was raked at the end.

Our prolific rose, Ernest Morse, has been risking his life playing chicken across the Back Drive. Before getting out his kneeler our gardening friend began by tying back this rose which Jackie had bought along with his companion Doris Tysterman as weedy twigs about 6 years ago at Poundstretchers for the price of 49p each. At the end of the season, once these repeating blooms are over, the intention is to build a proper support for them.

Later, in order to submit a post for a request, I converted this post from Classic to Block edit:

This evening we dined on oven fish, chips, and onion rings, pickled gherkins and onions, with which Jackie drank Diet Coke and I drank more of the Bordeaux.

Elizabeth Meets Ellie

This afternoon, while Jackie drove Flo, Dillon. and Ellie out shopping, I watched a BBC recording of yesterday’s delayed start of the final cricket Test Match between England and South Africa.

I then took a walk round the garden with my camera.

We had given up these gladioli in the heatwave. They have revived nicely as have the nasturtiums in the background.

Begonias are all doing well;

as are Japanese anemones.

A fly had visited Winchester Cathedral,

and a bee, verbena bonariensis.

Roses Crown Princess Margareta,

Doris Tysterman,

and Super Elfin, continue to thrive.

Elizabeth visited this afternoon to meet Ellie.

My sister stayed for dinner which consisted of oven fish and chips (haddock and cod); mushy peas, pickled onions and gherkins, with which Elizabeth and I drank more of the Côtes du Rhône; Jackie drank Hoegaarden; and Flo and Dillon drank fruit cordial.

Afterwards I watched the recorded highlights from today at the test match.

Summer Wine For My Birthday

The weather remained cool and breezy today with barely a glimmer of sunshine. We received welcome visits from Shelly this morning, and from Elizabeth this afternoon, each bringing birthday presents.

One of my sister-in-law’s gifts was a little pocket dead header which I employed on my photographic afternoon ramble round the garden.

It enabled me to produce a presentable picture of Doris Tysterman.

The rest of these photographs can be identified by clicking on any one to access the gallery. Don’t miss the bee and the hoverflies.

This evening we dined at Lal Quilla where we both started with Prawn purees; Jackie’s main course was chicken sag, and mine King Prawn naga; we shared a plain paratha and special fried rice, and both drank J. Tourville Rosé d’ Anjou 2018. The food and service was as good as always.

Now I am going to watch the Euro 20 football semi-final between England and Denmark.

Hunting In Pairs

“The Bishop” was the penultimate story that Anton Chekhov wrote while seriously ill with tuberculosis from which he died at the age of 44. This is a deeply emotional tale of the main character’s life and death, and his effect on family, prelates, and congregations alike. I finished reading it last night, and with it my Folio Society 1974 edition of translator Elisaveta Fen’s selection from the author’s prolific output of short stories.

Fen’s introduction to the book is informative and insightful. She includes a specific section for each story and it was interesting, after almost half a century in which to forget my first reading, to study these pieces after I had revisited their relevant story and to compare my thoughts with hers.

Nigel Lambourne’s occasional full page aquatints are well drawn, but on the heavy side for some of the characters.

It is perhaps appropriate that ‘ ‘Don’t disturb His Eminence,’ Sisoy told Maria’ should be the last of these illustrations.

Much of this warm day was spent on continuing garden maintenance consisting of weeding, pruning, dead heading; and bagging up for removal or adding to the compost bin all the resultant refuse.

Towards the end of the afternoon, while Jackie, sharing views with Florence sculpture, surveyed the fruits of our labour, I wandered round with my camera.

Hanging baskets and other containers now bear, for example, various petunias, geraniums, cineraria, calendulas, hot lips, Erigeron and their shadows.

As can also be seen in the foreground of the Florence picture above, geranium palmatum is prolific throughout the garden. One of our Rosa Glauca bushes blends nicely with the geranium in the first of this pair of photographs.

Here are a few more of our various day lilies, the first bearing a hoverfly.

I traverse paths like the one named Gazebo quite regularly. Today I also ambled along the Back Drive and selected for attention

roses white Félicité Perpétue; a yellow climber; pink Doris Tysterman; paler pink rose from Ringwood’s Pound Shop; and rich red Ernest Morse.

Wedding Day is now coming into flower on the Agriframes Arch which it shares with a deep mauve clematis.

Magpies hunt in pairs in our garden. This evening, as we took our drinks on the patio, the enjoyable, sweet, birdsong was interrupted by

the raucous rasp of these predators communicating their casing of the joint from the branches of the copper beech. All of a sudden they took wing and sped off in another direction. Soon our own avian friends came back to life.

Our dinner consisted of chicken marinaded in a tangy mango and chilli sauce topped with yellow and green peppers and onions; new potatoes; firm cauliflower, and tender green beans, with which Jackie drank more of the New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc and I chose more of the Australian Cabernet Sauvignon.

For The Bees

Between stints in the garden today, which varied from overcast-gloom to sun-bright, I finished reading Chekhov’s engaging story entitled ‘Teacher of Literature” (1894).

Essentially tracing the journey from childhood hardship to the consequences of unearned comfort the tale is told with human insight and with delightful bucolic descriptions. I will not reveal the changes in the main protagonist’s thoughts, but I accept the judgement of translator Elisaveta Fen that ‘The theme is among Chekhov’s favourite ones – the emptiness of mere material prosperity with no prospect of change, [and] the tedium of provincial life….’

There is no drawing to this story in my Folio Society edition.

My first spell in the garden, before lunch, involved clearing, bagging up, and transporting to the compost bin the refuse from the Head Gardener’s weeding and clippings.

The air was brighter after lunch when I weeded

another of the narrow brick footpaths between the Rose Garden beds. Silent woodlice slipped away from my scraping tools, and the water feature bubbled whenever the sun peeped out. Once again the path was too wet to sweep clean.

Even after another night of rain, many floppy blooms are beginning to raise their heads. Here we have the prolific peach-coloured Doris Tysterman; Festive Jewel, Aloha, and For Your Eyes Only in various shades of pink; the white Créme de la créme; the blushing Shropshire Lad; the prolific Gloriana; a rambling Ballerina; the aptly named Peach Abundance; a spreading Perennial Blush; and rich red Ernest Morse.

The elder shrub Sambucus nigra now rivals Altissimo in height.

While I wandered around with my camera Jackie, from her perch in the Weeping Birch Bed, pointed out the buds on the sculptural New Zealand flax.

Some three or four years ago our friend Giles, who has his own welcoming wildlife garden, gave us a twiggy stem of Vipers Bugloss with which to attract bees.

This boon for bees now dominates the far end of the Back Drive and lives up to its magnetic billing.

This evening we dined on tender baked gammon; new potatoes, carrots, cabbage, and piquant cauliflower cheese with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Cabernet Sauvignon.