Humming Bees

We were very fortunate to escape one of today’s heavy showers when we transported another car load of garden refuse to the Efford Recycling Centre. Rain hammered on the car as we drove home’

I use the cut glass pattern on a small wine container to measure my intake at each evening meal in order not to overdo the consumption and regret it. If she can help it the next morning, Jackie never leaves the renamed local council dump without making a purchase from the Reuse Shop. Today she bought a larger glass

which she placed on the kitchen table between yesterday’s bottle of Malbec and the measuring glass so that I could use the smaller glass as such to gauge a point on the larger for a change. I sampled it while drafting this post. Definitely more pleasing.

Although the sun produced warmth between fierce showers, Martin had to move on from weeding paths which became too wet, and carry

out more general tidying.

I took advantage of the sunny periods to photograph

bees entering a white foxglove, alighting on a geranium palmatum,

and those whose massed hum emanated from the Chilean Lantern tree to which they are inevitably drawn. Accessing the gallery should help spot one in each of these pictures.

This pink budding rose in the Patio Bed will be the colour of Peach Abundance in the Oval Bed when it fills out.

Other roses include the white rambler Félicité Perpétue; pale pink New Dawn; white climbing The Generous Gardener; pink Festive Jewel; white Winchester Cathedral: and a red climber.

The first of these clematises is on the front garden trellis; the next two pictures on the patio fence include Doctor Ruppel, another example of which decorates the Brick Path.

Fuchsia Delta’s Sarah, of which we have a number, is hardy enough to survive our winters; this allium is now in full bloom, as are the heucheras.

Here are two more shots of the Rose Garden.

and one from alongside the Cryptomeria Bed.

This evening we dined on spicy marinaded chicken; boiled baby new potatoes; and al dente carrots, cauliflower, and broccoli stems, with which I drank more of the Malbec.

“I Suppose You Want Me To Go Outside…”

I invariably begin the day a couple of hours or so before anyone else emerges from bed. This time is devoted to reading and commenting on other people’s posts, and responding to visitors comments on mine.

Sometimes I am distracted by views through the window. Unfortunately the design of the double glazing system does not allow the casements to open properly, if at all. This makes photography difficult. So it was this morning. I was bemoaning the fact that I could only reproduce the image I was seeing through the glass. “I suppose you want me to go outside and clean that window,” stated our Maintenance Department.

That seemed a good idea, so Jackie stepped outside to do the honours,

enabling me to produce the pictures I wanted.

Later, hair and arms decorated willingly by petal confetti, and less welcome by thorn-pricked tattoos, I completed yesterday’s work on Félicité Perpétue.

This afternoon I posted https://derrickjknight.com/2022/07/04/a-knights-tale-143-the-holiday-venue/

It was a favourite treat for Flo as a child to eat at a Harvester pub. This therefore is what we did this evening – in the Cat and Fiddle at Hinton Admiral. All was as good as we remembered it. After plentiful fresh salad from the bar Flo enjoyed rump steak, chips, peas, and onion rings; Jackie enjoyed katsu curry; I rather rashly chose the ultimate mixed grill consisting of an 8 oz rump steak, gammon steak, 1/4 chicken, a meaty rack of ribs, two large sausages, two slices of black pudding, 2 mushrooms, 1/2 tomato, a very large thimble of peas, a bucket of chips, and two fried eggs, sunny side up. While the others watched I managed to eat everything except half the chips, the tail end of a sausage, and one pea. Flo’s dessert was a Belgian waffle with toffee sauce, and Jackie’s was ice cream with toffee sauce. I just begged for mercy. I drank Marston’s ale, Flo drank water, and Jackie drank Diet Coke.

No Longer In The Shade

Once again we struggled in unaccustomed heat to thin out the rampant wisteria, and compost and bag up the clippings.

Jackie did most of the pruning and photographed the process before

and after her efforts.

As she said, she was no longer working in the shade.

Although the bulk of the composting and bagging fell to me,

the Head Gardener put in a chopping stint after lunch, when

we made more progress.

Fortunately we have secured a cancellation spot at the dump on 22nd.

The evening light as, in T-shirt temperature, we took our pre-dinner drinks on the patio, fell on

two socially distanced wood pigeons perched on the lopped cypress on the far side of the garden.

One flew of; the other remained unperturbed.

It was good to see that potted petunias and pelargoniums and fuchsia Delta’s Sarah.had perked up after recent watering.

We dined on Hordle Chinese Take Away second sitting with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank Alma Da Vinha Douro Doc 2018.

A Sensitive Repair

Jackie and her sisters enjoyed a coven meeting at The Bat & Ball on Salisbury Road, Braemore. As an unfortunate update to this history that still adorns the pub wall Jackie tells me that new owners have replaced the historic sign mentioned in this text with simply the title in a fairly plain font. I transported some of the Head Gardener’s clippings to the compost bin, cut back a bramble on the back drive, and pruned a poplar that had suffered severe wind damage.

I chopped up the tree branches with which I filled two more bags and added them to the pile.

Mum in a Million and other roses continue to bloom in the Rose Garden.

Various paths are looking a little tidier.

The Patio Bed remains cheerful;

fuchsia Delta’s Sarah in the Pond Bed, having spent the heatwave shrivelling, has revived well from the following rains;

kniphofias in the Cryptomeria Bed continue to multiply;

and potted plants line up outside the Head Gardener’s shed.

In honour of Sir Alastair Cook, former England captain and one of our greatest batsmen, Jackie photographed this cartoon displayed in the sisters’ lunch venue.

Across the road a house, featured in https://derrickjknight.com/2018/12/12/thats-what-i-call-home-delivery/ had been severely damaged by a lorry that had wound up in its walls. Jackie was able to photograph the

very sensitive repair. The green tarpaulin covers the site of a bus shelter that has not yet been replaced.

A next door neighbour has also benefited from a beautiful crown.

This evening we dined on a second sitting of Hordle Chinese Take Away’s fine fare, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Malbec.

More Rain

Today was dank, gloomy, and oppressed by leaden skies so lethargic as to lack energy for anything more than a slow, steady, seeping of limpid liquid.

Indeed the drizzle was so thin that it was only by observing the bejewelled plants that, from indoors, at times we could not be sure that it was still raining. I became quite damp photographing liquid pearls on gladiolus, hibiscus, Japanese anemone, clematis, fuchsia Delta’s Sarah, roses, spider’s webs, begonia, Angel’s wings, and pelargonium, each of which is separately identified in the gallery.

Indoors I also began work on the draft of a special future post.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s flavoursome sausages in red wine; tasty boiled new potatoes; toothsome kale; and crunchy carrots, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Montepulciano.

Love In The Time Of Cholera

During a heavily overcast yet warm morning I took a walk around the garden with my camera.

At the front of the house I photographed just one example of our fuchsia Delta’s Sarah and pink pelargoniums; a severally-hued hydrangea alongside white marguerites with yellow buttery centres; and the first of three rich red lily plants to bloom.

Another Delta’s Sarah is found among pink sweet peas and verbena bonariensis in the Weeping Birch Bed

which can be approached via stepping stones across the Cryptomeria Bed which is named from

the tree seen behind the standing lamp to the right of top centre in this picture of the Gazebo Path.

The white rose, Winchester Cathedral, and the peachy Lady Emma Hamilton are enjoying further flushes in the Rose Garden.

The blue and white petunias in the Ali Baba planter are beginning their descent which will have them cascading like those in this container accompanied by sweet peas, hot lips, and lobelias.

Just before mid-day we drove through a busy Highcliffe intending to brunch at The Beach House café on Friars Cliff. Both the car park and the beach were so crowded that we turned back and lunched at home.

I spent the afternoon finishing reading ‘Love in the time of Cholera’ by Colombian Nobel prizewinner Gabriel Garcia Marquez. This is the entry from brittania.com written by Roberto Gonzalez Echevarria:

Gabriel García Márquez, (born March 6, 1927, Aracataca, Colombia—died April 17, 2014, Mexico City, Mexico), Colombian novelist and one of the greatest writers of the 20th century, who was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1982, mostly for his masterpiece Cien años de soledad (1967; One Hundred Years of Solitude). He was the fourth Latin American to be so honoured, having been preceded by Chilean poets Gabriela Mistral in 1945 and Pablo Neruda in 1971 and by Guatemalan novelist Miguel Ángel Asturias in 1967. With Jorge Luis Borges, García Márquez is the best-known Latin American writer in history. In addition to his masterly approach to the novel, he was a superb crafter of short stories and an accomplished journalist. In both his shorter and longer fictions, García Márquez achieved the rare feat of being accessible to the common reader while satisfying the most demanding of sophisticated critics.

It must be 30 years since I first read this marvellous novel, and now, I hope, have done so with far greater understanding.

I do not know Spanish, but I am quite certain that Edith Grossman’s translation has contributed greatly to the fluidity of Jonathan Cape’s 1988 edition. The author is clearly a master of the long, eloquent, sentence and it must have taken great skill to convey this.

The book is filled with wisdom, insight, and humour, penned in flowing, natural language. Its theme is a lifetime of loves described in emotional and physical detail with all the accompanying passion, anxiety, intrigue, anguish, guilt, jealousies – you name the feelings – they are there.

What, wondered this reader in the midst of the 2020 pandemic, has cholera to do with the story, which is well told? After all the disease barely merits a mention until the penny drops; I will refrain from telling you when.

This evening we dined on oven fish and chips, peas, gherkins, and pickled onions, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Fleurie.

Emerging From The Gloom

This morning the temperature plummeted, as did rain until after lunch, when the overcast skies brightened and the wind speed escalated, for the rest of the day, to 40+ m.p.h.

We drove early to Ferndene Farm Shop to buy three bags of compost, a splendid, tall, lingularia; lettuce and other salad ingredients, before a short trip into the forest.

Beside Church Lane a pair of field horses sheltered under a tree.

The lane, like many others, had recently been resurfaced; hence the skid warning and speed limit. Often such signs stay in situ for months. Jackie had found a section of verge on which to park, otherwise no-one would have been able to pass while I photographed.

Further along the road we spotted a herd of deer which, as soon as they got wind of us, turned tail and huddled together further away. This did not put some of the young stags off their stroke.

As usual, galleries can be accessed by clicking on any image each of which can be viewed full size by clicking the boxes beneath them, and further enlarged if required.

Church Lane is steeply undulating. As this equestrienne reached the top of one slope and emerged from the gloom, even though Jackie was driving very slowly, her horse fell into a panic. My chauffeuse stopped the car and turned the engine off, thus enabling the young woman to settle her steed and sidle past the Modus while preventing the driver’s side from being kicked in.

The far end of the lane emerges in Pilley where further coronavirus messages include the bus shelter with its Union flag and Stay Home messages; and the HOPE bench.

Back at home raindrops glistened on hemerocallis, nasturtium, honeysuckle, fuchsia Delta’s Sarah, and rose Hot Chocolate, to name a few.

I spent the rest of the day reading a book I will feature tomorrow.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s spicy lamb jalfrezi, flavoursome mushroom rice, and plain parathas, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the delicious Douro

Wedding Day Bouquet

The wind picked up speed today; the rain kept away; sometimes the clouds allowed the sun to put in an appearance.

While Jackie continued planting I carried out a token tidy and dead-heading diurnal poppies.

Here the Head Gardener carries her camera because Nugget had dived into the hole she was digging so she left the arbour to pick up her device and when she returned her perverse little robin had disappeared, but she lived in hope that he might return before she put it down.

This windblown pink climber attempting to enter through the window beside my desk encouraged me to wander around with my camera photographing

a range of flowers, details of which can be found in the gallery, accessed by clicking on any image.

Jackie may not have managed to photograph Nugget, but she did produce the above trio which again are explained in the gallery.

Unbeknown to either of us we collaborated on the production of the Wedding Day bouquet by each taking a range of shots of this rose which will soon be fully veiling the Agriframes Arch. Individual authorship will be revealed by accessing the gallery in the normal way.

Concerned readers may have noticed a little dead heading of roses was overdue. Have no fear, this was rectified later this afternoon.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s succulent sausages in red wine; creamy mashed potatoes; and firm carrots, cauliflower, and broccoli, with which I drank more of the Carles. Jackie had drunk her Becks on the patio beforehand.

An Appeal For Help

This morning was wet and dull.

Light rain glistened on the dimly lit garden foliage seen from the bedroom windows.

After lunch the sun smiled down and spread a little joy.

It was warm enough for Aaron to mow Mistletoe Cottage’s lawn wearing a T-shirt.

I wandered around at ground level noting roses including

Peach Abundance,

Margaret Merrill,

and Festive Jewel:

 

fuchsias such as Delta’s Sarah:

and the flowering pieris piercing the lawn.

Iris Reticulatas have penetrated the Weeping Birch Bed at the point where the honesty blooms are giving way to the soon to be transparent seed medallions.

Brightly burnished blowflies’ metallic blue bodies mutated into rusty red.

In the meantime Nugget continues his parental duties. So diligently is he zooming backwards and forwards to his nest which may well be in the garden of North Breeze, that he has lost interest in hiding. If his family is domiciled on our neighbour’s property, we will not consider him disloyal because we know that avian boundaries are not the same as ours.

“Where’s Nugget?” (76)

This afternoon, in order to prevent bigger birds from snaffling our robin’s food, Jackie had wired up the outside of their feeder, leaving a robin sized access hole.

While I watched the news this evening, Jackie sat with a glass of Heineken on the patio.

Suddenly Nugget perched, chirping, on the back of the chair next to her. She turned. They made eye contact. Her familiar cocked his to one side and continued tweeting.

“What is it?”, Jackie asked.

A pause. She then said “I know. I’ll come and sort it out.”

He flew ahead of her, stopped in the centre of the path outside the kitchen window, and continued to call until she got up and followed him.

Still flying ahead of Jackie, he perched in the wisteria, waiting while she removed the chicken wire from his larder.

He flew past her head, chirruped his thanks, entered the container, and sped off to feed his brood.

After this we dined on roast pork, chipolata sausages, piquant cauliflower cheese, carrots, broccoli and cabbage with which Jackie continued her Hoegaarden and I finished the Fleurie.

 

 

 

Lathyrus Latifolius Jewels

Such minimal bright light as we enjoyed today graced us early this morning. Thereafter our vision became more and more dingy.

In order to provide me with as clear a view of the bird feeders as possible our friend from AP Maintenance cleaned our sand blasted windows. This is not the usual use of the phrase sand blasted. It is what happens when the gravel pit vehicles make their daily trips past the front of our house.

 

I did manage shots of a great tit partaking of peanuts

and suet balls a little earlier. Such is their timidity that these birds swivel around clinging to their perch after each peck in order to ensure their security.

Before the heavier rain descended Jackie alerted me to the bejewelled nature of our garden plants, such as

the outstretched Japanese maple

and drooping Weeping Birch branches;

the fuchsias like Delta’s Sarah;

the spiky New Zealand phormium;

rose bush petals;

fallen leaves;

and the calligraphic curlicues of the lathyrus latifolius (everlasting sweet pea).

When not eyeing his own robin feeder, Nugget, “Where’s Nugget?” (48),

foraged on a bed of crocosmia stubble cleared earlier by Aaron.

For this evening’s dinner, which I relished, Jackie produced succulent roast pork; crisp Yorkshire pudding; piquant cauliflower cheese; creamy mashed potato; crunchy carrots; and tender cabbage, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank Mendoza Parra Alta Malbec 2017.