Tag: garden views

In The Rain

Heavy, steady, rain fell throughout most of the day.

I photographed the scenes from indoors. The pendant in the rain spattered window was made for me by the daughter of a client some thirty years ago. The fallen pot was blown down. If there are any more we don’t want to know about it.

I looked down on the garden from upstairs.

Seen from our bedroom window, the puddle in the gutter outside our front drive is a good rain gauge.

At mid morning we left in the rain for a damp forest drive. I had expected simply to make photographs from the car. In the event I couldn’t help myself, so Jackie parked on the verge of Braggers Lane where I found raindrops spiralling in puddles; damp trees; and

damper field horses, some in rugs rooting around, I think for acorns – poisonous to them – in puddles behind barbed wire.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s cracking chicken stoup and crusty bread, followed by ample apple pie and custard, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Shiraz.

Starring Seed Pods

Today, by our standards, unseasonably hot for September, was definitely one for sprinkling the garden.

Even the wicker owl appreciated its shower.

By late morning we had become too heated to complete our work on pruning, cutting up, and composting the wisteria, seen here from above and below.

While taking the overhead wisteria pictures I added some more general aerial shots;

back at ground level the Brick Path and its arches; and the Gazebo Path, returning to my puzzle theme with “Where’s Jackie?” (5);

and the Triangular Bed beside the iron urn.

Today’s starring seed pods are on an ornamental allium.

The temperature rose as the day progressed; the sun became veiled by voluminous hazy clouds; the atmosphere increasingly oppressive. Late in the afternoon, in order to shake us from somnolent stupor we drove to Ferndene Farm Shop to buy some vegetables and eggs. There were no eggs.

For the last week or so, this outlet has been selling live chickens from its stock in the next door field. This has been because the older poultry do not lay in the quantity needed for a commercial enterprise. They are replaced by younger models and offered for reduced domestic production. Apparently the new birds haven’t yet got into the swing of things.

Afterwards we took a drive into the forest.

Along Holmsley Passage, tails constantly whisking, ponies dotted the landscape.

So it was for the rest of our journey, for example along Bisterne Close where we encountered

a mare and foal. Like all the youngsters, the stubby little tail didn’t seem adequate for seeing off the flies

and this infant had me backing off at a rate of knots in order to maintain focus as it attempted to brush off its flies with my beard.

On our return via Holmsley Passage ponies slaked their thirst in the rapidly diminishing wayside pool.

This evening we dined on Mr Chan’s Hordle Chinese Take Away’s excellent fare with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Bordeaux.

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.

The Race Was On

On this further dully overcast and windy morning we virtually finished the front garden pruning.

I photographed a few hanging baskets in the rest of this area, involving bacopas, lobelias, diascia, begonias, petunias, pelargoniums, and gladiolus. These have all regenerated well after the recent heavy winds.

Here are the bags of woody clippings which we will need to take to the recycling centre. Unfortunately we now have to register our vehicle and make an appointment to dump this material.

On my way through the garden I photographed more views which are each identified in the gallery. The second-flush kniphofia in the last picture is proliferating.

The first apples Jackie picked polished up nicely.

This afternoon we visited Mudeford harbour where, now the area has been left to the locals, I was able to wander across the green and photograph a sailboarder whizzing among moored boats;

gulls, including a preener;

and a low-flying murmuration of starlings for whom the race was on for dropped morsels of food.

As is her wont, Jackie photographed the photographer against the backdrop of his subject.

This evening we dined on lamb chops in mint and rosemary gravy; boiled new potatoes; crunchy carrots and broccoli; and swede and carrot mash, with which Jackie drank Beck’s and I drank more of the Malbec.

Like Joyce’s Wet Bed

Early this sultry morning, before setting off to meet her sisters for lunch, Jackie carried out necessary garden irrigation which I continued after enjoying the lunch she had left prepared for me. After giving pots a fresh-water- and myself a sudorific-drenching I proceeded to a little dead heading that I had failed to ignore.

Aaron, working at Mistletoe Cottage, dropped in for a chat.

Later, my clammy shirt now cold, like James Joyce’s wet bed sheet (“When you wet the bed first it is warm then it gets cold.” – ‘A Portrait of The Artist as a Young Man” ),

I wandered around with my camera.

The random photographic results are all labelled in the gallery that can be accessed by clicking on any image each of which may be enlarged in the usual manner.

This evening we completed the watering and I cut off a few more heads before dining on spicy pepperoni pizza and plentiful fresh salad with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Carles.

A Splendid Oak

On this hot, humid, and overcast morning our friend Giles visited for a tour of the garden he had not been able to enter since before the lockdown.

We enjoyed a pleasant catching up, continued over coffee inside.

This afternoon, after filling up with petrol, Jackie drove me to the north of the forest.

The ponies again gathered on Ringwood Road outside Burley, but largely stuck to the verges where they nibbled hedges and left deposits in driveways.

I disembarked at the Smugglers Road car park and climbed a well-trodden pony trail

so dry that it had partially turned to sand.

Various similar tracks wound across the arid moorland hillsides among the banks of purpling heather.

We drove along the lanes around Linwood where woodsmoke filled the air;

and along the cup de sac to Highwood where I aroused the curiosity of a pair of heavy field horses.

Just outside Ibsley a splendid oak stretched wide its arms.

This evening we dined on lean, slow roasted, brisket of beef; roast garlic potatoes; crisp Yorkshire pudding; crunchy carrots; and tender sweetheart cabbage, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Carles.

A Damselfly In The Kitchen Sink

Today the temperature was warm with intermittent sunshine.

Up early soon after dawn this morning, Jackie discovered an azure damselfly, no longer than one inch, in the kitchen sink. Delicately, she transported the creature to the frog pond which she felt may be more its natural element. Having produced this moving photograph, she proceeded to walk around the garden creating a few more.

Here is her collection. As usual, each garden view is labelled in the gallery which may be accessed by clicking on any image, each of which may be viewed full size by clicking the box beneath it, and further enlarged with another click.

Nugget Junior 2nd was in attendance the whole morning while Jackie worked on Elizabeth’s Bed.

When I joined her for clearing up duties the robin provided me with opportunities for

“Where’s Nugget Junior 2nd?” (2) which may need bigification,

and “Where’s Nugget Junior 2nd?” (3) from which he almost disappeared. Nugget senior was still absent.

Late this afternoon Elizabeth, Danni, Andy, and Ella joined us in the garden where eventually the weather dulled and a cool breeze blew, suggesting it might be a good idea to take our Forest Tandoori Take Away meal indoors to eat from bowls on our knees.

Ella, like the rest of us, studied the menu before putting in an order to Jackie who rang it through. Andy collected it a short while afterwards.

Apart From Bombs And Stuff

With the aid of a printout of “Don’t Panic!”, SueW, Weekly Prompts superb First Guide to the Blocks Editor printed two days ago, I spent some time this morning trying to understand rather than stumble through WP’s new scourge. Sue likens it to a modern washing machine which has loads of options that most of us will never use – rather like a mobile phone really.

I then took a few garden views from upstairs. In this one “Where’s Jackie?” (2)

The rest of these are further explained by accessing the gallery with a click on any one. Two portray Jackie drying her hair. To save anyone asking, it is all natural. Paul’s Scarlet is the red climbing rose.

susurrus has also been providing useful help on the particular theme I have managed to activate. Between these two blogging friends I hope to recover displaying my About page. I continued the struggle this afternoon.

Eventually I contacted WordPress Support. Their response was immediate and a chat was opened. I was pursuing this when I received a call from our heating engineer to say he was on his way. Consequently I had to close the chat intending to pick it up again tomorrow.

I haven’t mentioned it before, but we ran out of fuel oil last week, so we haven’t had any heating for a week. Oil was delivered yesterday but the boiler refused to reset, so Ronan from Tom Sutton Heating visited to do it for us.

Life was so much simpler in the 1940s – apart from bombs and stuff.

Before dinner we sat for a while on the Westbrook Arbour bench watching

the sprinkler spray clematis Dr Ruppel, and

light leave Florence sculpture.

Our meal consisted chicken biriani created from fried chicken breasts added to leftover chicken and rice from last night; mine enhanced by the hotter jalfrezi sauce. Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Shiraz.

Working On The Rose Garden

Today, the hottest day of the year, was fine and sunny.

While Jackie swept, weeded, pruned, and watered the Rose Garden. (This picture is not an official “Where’s Nugget?”, but on reading the blog and doubly enlarging it The Head Gardener identified our familiar robin clearly silhouetted above the central bloom of clematis Warsaw Nike in the right foreground.)

I pruned roses and photographed various scenes there and elsewhere.

The Mum in a Million rose chaperoned by gladioli and foxgloves to the left of the third picture above is now in her prime.

In the first scene Jackie attends the gazebo which hosts Crown Princess Margareta and Zephirine Drouhin each exuding strong sweet scents.

This pink climber scales an obelisk

beside Margaret Merrill.

Ballerina dances elegantly

and another nameless climber, a deeper pink, soars above the arbour.

The views from the Cryptomeria Bed and the Concrete Patio lead on to the Rose Garden. The above picture contains one of the

plethora of poppies we now enjoy.

These stand against a red rhododendron.

 

As these bushes are nearing the end of their flowering, a different colour combination comes into its own.

This can be seen above the bench beside the Heligan Path

Back in the Rose Garden our little goldcrest continued its reflected courtship. He wasn’t fazed by us, but Jackie has now covered the mirror to reduce tantalisation.

Nugget kept us intermittent company. “Where’s Nugget?” (79).

Another view from the Cryptomeria Bed takes us towards the house, passing an unseen

arch sporting this purple clematis.

This stunning non-hardy pelargonium has survived the entire winter in a pot beside the kitchen window.

More small alliums live in the Pond Bed opposite.

The Chilean lantern tree is now quite loaded.

From the patio we have a view along the Dead End Path.

This view looks south from the Gazebo Path.

Looking in the same direction along the Brick Path we see that Wedding Day is burgeoning on the Agriframes Arch.

The roses along the Back Drive borders will also soon cover the stumps.

Irises Reticulata are cropping up everywhere.

A few days ago we visited South Sway Lane

to check on Gimlet, our carrot-loving equine friend. His field was empty, as it remained today when we came back to collect more horse manure from the house opposite. It was all gone, although it had been there on our previous trip.

Undaunted, Jackie continued to Ferndene Farm shop where there was no queue and she was able to buy several items. Still on Sway Lane,

I disembarked to photograph some backlit grey horses. The immediately trotted over to their gate so I had to be satisfied with this shot, which biggifies quite well.

This evening we repeated yesterday’s meal, except that the potatoes were old and sprouting a few roots. Our alcoholic accompaniments were the same.