As a break from working on the garden album, I took a wander around.
In the front, the tiny clematis Campaniflora quivers in the breeze, festooning the shrubs outside the window. The sepals of this plant just about span my thumbnail.
In the bed opposite lies perhaps autumn’s biggest surprise. Foxgloves, we understand, flower once, drop their seeds, then die. This one’s giant spiralling stem bloomed all summer, rebuffing the gale force winds we experienced. All these new flowers are gathered on spurs from the original. What could be going on?
Mimuluses still abound. These are just outside the kitchen door.
Today’s offerings from the rose garden are:
Festive Jewel,
and, could this be the last of the Summer Wine?
This afternoon an engineer from Premier Electrics called to fix the washing machine. Given that I only phoned them at 11.30 a.m. and the job was done by 4.00 p.m. we were rather impressed with the service. Their number had been gleaned from Village Voice, the Milford on Sea community magazine.This was a good result because Jackie had been wondering whether we would be able to get the sheets washed, and I was concerned lest I run out of underpants.
This evening we dined on a massive mushroom omelette, chips, and baked beans. We both drank sparkling water.
I began the day by watching a recording of the England v. Australia match in the Rugby World Cup. In case there is any rugby fan in either hemisphere who is yet to watch it, I will say no more.
Encouraged by yet another warm, sunny, day, Jackie began work on clearing, and settling down for winter, the bed between the Heligan and Phantom Paths. We will call it The Unidentified Fir Bed, in honour of the large evergreen that enhances it. My contribution was to gather up and shift the debris to the respective compost and combustible heaps; to dig out a tree peony that encroached upon the Heligan Path; and to rake up fallen leaves from the gravel.
In addition to releasing a number of choked plants that had not seen the light of day for a year or two, Jackie discovered another row of large rocks, and a length of perished buried hose from an ancient irrigation system.
This afternoon, deciding to dig over the exposed ground, she found much rubble therein. I, oblivious of this added difficulty, watched TV rugby matches between Argentina and Tonga, and between Ireland and Italy.
Elsewhere in the garden this morning I had discovered yet another owl perched on a stump,
and the aerator acquired from the dump yesterday piercing the grass patch. The pheasant and kiwi didn’t look impressed.
One of Margery’s hollyhocks still stands sentinel to the left of this scene.
Today’s bouquet of roses includes
Laura Ford,
Festive Jewel,
and Absolutely Fabulous.
Butterflies like this well camouflaged Speckled Wood (thanks to Paul Clarke for pointing out that this is not a Wall Brown) have not yet given up,
neither have the slurping bees.
This evening we dined on cod in mornay sauce with broccoli florets; and crisp carrots, cauliflower and cabbage. We both drank Cimarosa Pedro Jimenez 2014.
This morning, I received a tag from my friend June Brokas, prompted by yesterday’s post, to this news item from ITV:
‘A place for reflection: ‘invisible’ shed wins top prize
“Invisibility Tardis Shed of Navel Contemplation. Credit: Manchester School of Art
An ‘invisible shed’ has scooped the top prize in the ‘Shed of the Year’ competitiion at RHS Tatton.
Manchester School of Art were joint winners of the ‘Shed of the Year’ prize with their ‘Invisibility Tardis Shed of Navel Contemplation.’
Clare Knox Bentham and Adrian Digaudio Manchester School of Art Credit: Manchester School of Art
As well as a mirrored exterior, the shed has mirrored walls on the inside reflecting any visitor back on themselves infinitely.
As a finishing touch, the artists added a mirror ball, turning the humble garden shed into a miniature disco.’
We think that is going a bit too far.
After yesterday’s searing heat, much of the morning was spent watering the hundreds (I do not exaggerate) of containers and the recently planted flowers.
Those readers who have read earlier posts about the work done inside the house will know that our predecessors appeared to be DIY enthusiasts. If there were enough ill-fitting materials to make something work, aesthetics did not come into the equation. If it were at all possible to position objects unaligned, crooked, or not matching, there would be no problem in finding a way.
So it was with the industrial strength hinge plate screwed halfway up the wooden arch into the rose garden. Set somewhat askew, and too wide for its post, with one empty eye socket,and a sagging cheek, it pleaded with us each time we entered that area. The Head Gardener decided it had to go. I knew at the outset that this would be a hack-saw job, but in order to avoid that, I initially, rather less than hopefully, tried screwdrivers, and even a bolt cutter.
Whilst labouring with the saw, I glanced down and spotted another plate at the foot of the post, thus confirming my suspicions that there would once have been a gate attached. Though why the structure had to be so strong was a mystery. The Head Gardener, of course, knew that the lower plate was there. She had hoped I would take that one off as well. My initial reaction was that no way was that going to happen. I couldn’t get down there for a start. But, on reflection that seemed rather churlish. So, using Jackie’s kneeler as a seat, I did the job.
Roses
Love Knot
and Festive Jewel
are both comparatively short climbers we have placed within small obelisks.
A clematis Warsaw Nike has taken to the Ace Reclaim Arch,
and fuchsia Frosted Flame, suspended from the dead Snake Bark maple overlooks the Brick Path.
I took a short walk into Downton Lane, sat on a wall, and waited for a shot. Two children entering a ‘tree tunnel’, obliged.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s luscious liver and bacon casserole (recipe) served with creamy mashed swede and potato, and crisp carrots and cauliflower, followed by apple and cherry pie and cream. The Cook supped Hoegaarden whilst I quaffed Teroldego Rotaliano superiore 2011.
