geraniums – Page 7 – derrickjknight

One For Mary Tang

AS ALWAYS, CLICKING ON AN IMAGE, REPEATED IF NECESSARY, WILL ENLARGE IT

The kitchen door was open this morning as I wandered into it. Such was the heady blend of sweet scents that pervaded the room, that I looked around for the bouquets of blooms I felt sure The Head Gardener must have gathered. There were none. The aroma emanated from the garden itself on this much warmer day. This became apparent as I investigated.

Testament to Jackie’s occasional breaks, gardening magazines like this one on the Heligan Path bench, are likely to be found in sunshine or shade, depending on her needs at the time. In the right foreground of this picture, on a dry brick plinth stands one of the recently purchased half-dozen stone urns, planted with geraniums, petunias, and, yet to burst forth, begonias. Heucheras, hellebores honesty and hebes fill the near beds, whilst in the background the palm which gives its name to the recently refurbished plot, is budding, which it didn’t do last year. An ornamental grass bends at the feet of the weeping birch, now sporting catkins. There will probably be no more long shots of the garden that do not contain an owl.

Later, with the bench in shade, I shifted my viewpoint in order to show the scene through what will soon be a cascade of clematis Montana seen, already covering the other side of the dead tree at top right, that will cover the plank of wood used to form the arch. Jackie enjoys a rest.

This evening we attended a quiz night at Helen and Bill’s church hall in aid of CAFOD. Everyone had brought contribution of finger food and there was a bar where beer, wines, and soft drinks were available, and variously consumed by the assembled company.

Peter Thomas, a very skilled magician, offering his services free of charge, stepped in at the last minute to manage the quiz, and to entertain us with some marvellous tricks.

Our family members made up two tables; one team consisting of Bill, David and Jen, John, and Rachel; the other of Becky and Ian, Shelly and Ron, and Jackie and me. The first of these groups came second overall, and we won. The winners were each given a certificate to prove it.

This post is for Mary Tang, who likes the panoramic views.

Knighton Park

On a continuing balmy morning I picked a December bouquet from the garden – photographically speaking, of course. We have:

Festive jewels,

violas,

petunias,

geraniums,

snapdragons,

and solanums.

Jackie went on a massive ‘operation fill the freezer up’ shop; Aaron finished off the bathroom; and I completed our last batch of cards that we posted on the way to lunch at Helen and Bill’s.

Helen produced an excellent roast venison meal for us; for Shelly and Ron; for herself and Bill; and for their delightful son, David and his lovely wife, Jen. The starter was tasty pate with redcurrant jelly and salad. The meat was served with plentiful carrots, Brussels sprouts, green beens, and roast potatoes and parsnips. Chocolate roulade with strawberries, melon and cream was for dessert. Cheese and biscuits was to follow. Afterwards we just about managed coffee and mint chocolates. Various red and white wines were the accompaniment.

Convivial conversation with a sprinkling of reminiscence kept us going well into the evening. Ron told us about a terrace of houses in Knighton Park in Barton which sported splendid Christmas decorations, so we decided to visit it on our way home.

We were treated to a staggering display, complete with a singing reindeer strapped to a post.

Other people, such as the little family in this shot, had come out to see the show. I was asked to photograph them on the mother’s phone.

The whole of this terrace was festooned with coloured lights representing numerous motifs, and the tiny front gardens were crammed with glowing figures, including a few cribs, snowmen, and Santas.

None of the facades or sides of the dwellings was neglected.

The street was lined with parked cars on which the scenes were reflected.

No further sustenance was required after we returned home.

The Monet Arch

Oscar, that fine blogging poet of In So Many Words, recently expressed wonderment that I got any work done with all the photography I did in the garden. I wonder, did he know that the camera is a preferred delaying tactic; and that a new rose arch has stood in the hall porch for the last three days, awaiting assembly?

The arch leading into the front garden was such a ramshackle structure that it was being held together by the roses, honeysuckle, and clematis it was meant to support. I therefore ordered a replacement from Agriframes. Today we decided to substitute the new metal Monet Arch for the existing rickety woodwork.

Anyone who remembers our last struggle with an Agriframes Arch may well understand our reluctance to begin this project, and Oscar, in particular, will understand my need ramble round the garden first.

The overnight rain had once again left sparkling gems on the flowers:

on geraniums;

on begonias;

on trailing antirrhinums, less their tails battered by the winds;

on Margery’s long- lived hollyhocks;

on a giant fuchsia Pink Marshmallow;

and on the rose Mamma Mia, to name a few.

The ripening apples on the tree also benefited from a wash.

The two beds Jackie has planted up in the last week welcomed the nurturing rainfall. These are

the former site of the ficus,

and the triangular bed linking the Pergola and Brick Paths.

Having removed some overgrown shrubs from the latter opens up the view through to the Agriframes Gothic Arch.

At every corner the sun lit hosts of grateful blooms like these Japanese anemones.

That little wander was just one of the ways we managed to defer tackling the arch until after lunch. Spelling mistakes in the instructions didn’t inspire me with confidence; neither did the fact that the suppliers had equated 1.2 meters with 4 feet.

This was the paperwork.

Before anything else, we decided to take step 2. It seemed rather important to make sure we could fit the four posts into gravelly soil with concrete and stone embellishments. This meant heavily pruning the plants in situ, then piercing four holes in the right places. Every time I extracted the hole maker, bits of gravel fell back into it. That was rather frustrating. Next came step 1. We then applied the top section to the four posts of step 2, to check we had them properly aligned. After a bit of tweaking we found we had.

Step 1 was then removed so we could build step 3, and apply it as in step 4. Eventually, that worked. This meant we were ready to put step 1 in place.

I trust that is all very clear. The next time we need an arch it will come ready-assembled from an architectural salvage outlet such as Ace Reclaim.

Did I mention that it rained during this procedure? No? Well, it did.

This evening we dined with Giles and Jean at her home in Barton on Sea. Jean produced an excellent meal of Sea Bass, new potatoes, broccoli, and mushrooms; followed by a succulent autumn pudding, being a seasonal variant on my favourite summer pudding. I drank a rather good mourvedre, while Jackie drank Peroni. Naturally we had our usual stimulating conversation.

Officially Autumn

Although she does tidy up much of her refuse, when the Head Gardener has been about with the loppers and secateurs, it falls upon me, the Under Under Gardener, to clear the heaps of clippings; to transfer them to the compost and wood-burning piles; to sort them; and to cut them into manageable sections. This I did this morning after Jackie had driven off for one of her sorority lunches with Helen and Shelly.

Judging by the scent pervading this pile, the marauding cat that we hope keeps the rodents down, had liberally sprayed it with a peculiar pungency.

The rambling rose, Wedding Day, having outgrown the Agriframes arch and dared to festoon the two Japanese maples and frolic over a hebe, was given a particularly severe haircut. I console myself in the knowledge that, like mine, it will grow again.

This is all part of the autumn clear-up. It is, after all, the first official day of autumn. We are, nevertheless, still treated to the sights of summer, like

bees burrowing into crinkly poppies;

Small White butterflies fluttering everywhere and perching on verbena bonarensis;

petunias, pink striped dahlias, and geraniums;

and raindrops on sweet peas.

The rose garden is flourishing. We have left two peep-holes in the fence so our neighbours can enjoy it too.

Carpet roses, like the white Kent, are spreading nicely.

We have red hot pokers everywhere. Either they are proliferating at will, or there was too much undergrowth last year for us to notice. These are surveyed by the owl at home in the dead Snake Bark maple.

We moved the furniture and potted plants from the decking for Aaron to refurbish it. This colourful table top had held a floral display.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s lively chilli con carne and tasty mixed vegetable rice. I finished the malbec, and The Cook drank Hoegaarden.

After The Rain 1

SPOILER ALERT! Don’t read to the end if you are watching the rugby recorded.

This morning Jackie weeded and planted chrysanthemums in the front garden, whilst I dug out the remaining roots of the ficus in preparation for planting the pansies.

In the event, a heavy thunderstorm ruled out putting the pansies to bed. They were therefore plonked in their trays. Even though the rain ceased, enabling us to finalise the preparation and wander round the garden, the soil was far too muddy.

The sun emerged for a while. The rain ceased, but continued to drip from the trees and the shrubbery. Battered blooms bore watery blisters.

These included geraniums;

Ginger lilies;

roses unknown,

Altissimo,

and the leaves of Deep Secret;

dahlia Bishop of Llandaff;

sweet peas;

and verbena to name a few.

Echinaceas and chrysanthemums, and others in Elizabeth’s Bed have been well watered.

Here are views down the Dead End Path;

across the New Bed to the Brick Path;

and across the Heligan Path.

Our dinner this evening, consisting of Jackie’s superb chicken jalfrezi and pilau rice, was taken on trays on our knees, as we watched the opening match in the rugby World Cup, in which England beat Fiji by 35 points to 11. I drank more of the malbec while Jackie drank Hoegaarden. I didn’t spill too much curry down my sweatshirt.

Furnishing The Shed

Becky put this on my Facebook page early this morning:

Clever, isn’t she?

We began with a trip to the municipal dump, now upgraded to Efford Recycling Centre. Included in the rubbish we took there was a green plastic table we had bought from there in the first place. The Head Gardener, now she has a shed, has no further use for it. I got quite excited when I thought this might be the first time we would leave the tip without making a purchase. This was not to be, for Jackie spotted a hanging window box and just had to buy it.

Off we then drove to Highcliffe, and our old favourite, Fergusson’s, in search of a suitable chest of drawers to double as a work surface and storage for packets of seeds, tools, ties, plant labels, and almost anything else you can think of. Elsa and Boyce produced the very thing, that would probably have got the Bargain Hunt experts very excited. This addictive televised antiques programme involves two pairs of punters shopping in normal retail outlets in the hope of making a profit at auction. We have learned that G-plan, the iconic furniture of the ’50s and ’60s, is in at the moment. The Ercol piece that we found would definitely have been in the money. But we weren’t going to auction, and Dad, Dave Fergusson, accompanied by Elsa, delivered it for us and helped me place it in the shed.

This friendly family firm is to be recommended.

Jackie had already begun to make herself at home.

Dave had first delivered furniture to us last May, when the garden was still a jungle. He and Elsa went on an amazed and delighted tour. He asked for a notification when we open to the public. Here is a selection from what he saw today:

From the bed by the wisteria, this small pink rose has a good view of the new acquisition.

This is the view along the outside of the kitchen window. The rose above lies in the bed at the end.

Obscured by the planting in the centre background, the dragon stands on a concrete plinth. This is his view through to the urn and beyond.

Near the start of the brick path, geraniums and Japanese maple form a pleasing swirl;

and a different variety of geranium hangs at one end of the Phantom Path.

A concrete building block lifts a pot of pink petunias taking us across another section of the Brick Path.

We also walked along the Pergola Path. Like any of the others, this view changes daily.

In the new rose garden, Kent is now in bloom.

At the far south end of the garden, passion flowers cling to the support arches we erected last year, and clematis Margaret Hunt ascends those Jackie fixed in her new boxes at the start of the back drive.

This evening we dined at Lal Quilla, where we enjoyed the usual ambiance, service, food, and Kingfisher. I chose Purple Tiger and Jackie chose Navrattan Korma. We shared lemon rice and a naan, and both drank Kingfisher.

Painted Into A Corner

While we have been working on the main garden, the back drive has taken advantage of our negligence, and become rather out of hand. Jackie has decided that, far preferable to getting down on her hands and knees to weed it, she will apply a weedkiller. Since this area is the size of a large town back garden, the task will require goodness knows how many trips from the house to the undergrowth with a small can of diluted poison.

In the photograph she is seen making her way to the far end. At least a start was made.
The front garden has also rather burgeoned. After transporting a few more sets to finish yesterday’s border, I made a start on that.
After leaving off the poisoning, Jackie set those last few blocks of granite, and continued planting and watering.When she called me for lunch,

I had not even finished clearing the brambles breaking through the trellis by the entrance, and clambering over any plants in their path. As the second picture shows, it became apparent that I had painted myself into a corner. I found another way out.
This afternoon I managed to clear the trellis area, and heavily to prune a sloe tree that was encroaching onto the footpath outside our property, and putting unnecessary pressure on the latticework of the trellis. I had to sacrifice nascent fruit of both the brambles and the tree, but I can live with that.
Before I could put my feet up at the end of the day I needed to clear the severed branches and uprooted blackberry bushes from the garden and the street outside. It was then my turn to make long treks down the garden path. The vast pile of cuttings that all the clearances are accumulating, lies at the far end of the main path, near the gate in today’s first photograph. Backwards and forwards, knackered, I tramped. Adding material to the heap is rather like tossing the caber.
Afterwards, I had a wander around with my camera.

A new variety of poppy has revealed itself in the bed I weeded yesterday, and a pink climbing rose has taken off since we gave it more space and light.

We have a number of varieties of verbena which are seemingly happy with life. The tall stemmed bonariensis blends beautifully with the clematises on the new arch, and the surrounding geraniums. Its shorter, scented, cousin, aptly named strawberries and cream, makes a welcome companion for diascia and pelargoniums, especially the nutmeg flavoured one. That is why Jackie has placed their pot alongside the bench.

Petunias, such as these in a hanging basket, come in a variety of colours, as does the mimulus, nestling on the margin of the tiny pond.
For dinner, Jackie produced gammon baked in a nest of whole mushrooms; swede, carrot and potato mash; cauliflower; and a positively piquant melange of onions and tomatoes for a sauce to provide juiciness. I didn’t drink any of her Hoegaarden, or anything else for that matter.
For the onion and tomato sauce:
Take four medium onions, finely chopped. Fry them with one clove of garlic in butter with a little oil to stop the butter burning.
When they are well done, add a can of chopped Italian tomatoes and gently fry until blended in well.
Try it. It’s delicious.

A Result

Today being Jackie’s birthday, her choice of activity was to work in the garden. Oh joy.
We managed to postpone finishing off yesterday’s task by going on an arch hunt. Otter Nurseries in Everton didn’t have metal ones; Everton Nurseries had some but they were too small; so we went off in the opposite direction to Stewart’s in Christchurch where we had seen the very thing when we bought the tower/obelisk. Albeit more expensive than the Gardman product, this was much more robust and exactly the right size.
They only had the model on display. We could have it with a 25% discount because it was the last one, and a bit dusty. The very helpful young man dismantled it for us and helped us into the car with it. I commented that it was a pity we didn’t have a bigger car then he wouldn’t have had to dismantle it and we wouldn’t have to reassemble it. Jackie commented that her drive was much easier than had been the one with Elizabeth’s rose arch occupying all three passenger seats and part of hers. We had bought that at the Bishop’s Waltham Garden Fair in May 2012. It did not come flat-packed, as it had been handmade by a local craftsman. There was no room for passengers in the car, so Jackie had to drive alone with the lanky rustic creation attempting to cuddle her all the way to The Firs.
The trip to Otter Nurseries wasn’t exactly wasted because they had a special offer on four bags of gravel, so we bought some.
Straight after lunch I attacked the lonicera, brambles, and ivy once more. Yesterday I showed you what the view over the fence looks like.

This is what the lonicera looks like through the remnants of fence after I have hacked it back:
Again, a sister and brother in law provided an opportunity to take a break, by making a visit. This was Shelly and Ron who also brought more of the plants they have been fostering.

All the flowers, including these geraniums, have thrived through a comparatively mild winter under Shelly’s attention.
Ron, having broken his heel, was somewhat restricted, but I was able to take Shelly round the garden. Among all the other interesting

specimens we have, the Chinese lantern tree is now in full bloom, and a red climbing rose enhances the back of the house.. While Jackie joined Shelly on her tour, I sat and chatted to Ron.

The bird feeders have now been erected and he and I watched a young robin trying them out.
Before and after enjoying our visitors’ company I tackled the undergrowth behind the broken arch,and Jackie cleared the front, and fully exposed the edge of the path. The Virginia creeper and all the brambles mentioned yesterday had choked and obscured a very leggy climbing rose which possesses one red bud.
Before attempting to reassemble the new gothic arch, we needed to untangle, and free from the surrounding vegetation, the creeper and the rose. We decided to give the Virginia climber a most severe skinhead haircut in order to allow the rose to toss out its tresses. Jackie climbed the stepladder to tie up the limbs. The arch was fairly straightforward to put together, a little less so to set astride the path. But we managed it and are very pleased with the result. In fact, in football parlance, to obtain the last one the store was ever going to stock, at such a discount, was in itself a result.

This photograph was taken from the Heligan Path, which would not have been possible much more than a week ago. Yesterday, the large tree to the left of and behind the climbers on the arch, was obscured by undergrowth, as was the metal rail and knotted jumble behind that, which is the subject of the first picture above. Incidentally, this clearance seems to be adding about four feet to the width of our shrubbery.
Dinner this evening was delicious chicken jalfrezi (recipe) with mushroom rice and vegetable samosas accompanied by Cobra beer.

Over The Fence

Knackered at the end of the day yesterday, I chose to ignore one encroachment of foliage onto the path. This hinged upon a Virginia creeper no longer adequately supported by a partially collapsed wooden arch. It was beset by one of our own expansive trees and rambling bramble. I knew, however, if I ventured into the undergrowth, I would find that what was pushing everything forward would be the invasive jungle from next door. I wasn’t up for that. Until I got up this morning.
First of all I had a wander round the garden trying to put off the beckoning task.

The philadelphus is doing well, and a thalictrum aquilegifoleum now blooms alongside a pampas grass that echoes the unidentified evergreen I photographed yesterday.
Until they are given a permanent location, the plants recovered from Shelly and Ron’s are deposited in various spots in the garden. These geraniums and diasca flank the bench:

That’s enough prevarication.
Holly, brambles, ivy and Lonicera were all seeking new accommodation on the other side of their ramshackle fence. One ivy entwined around our unidentified tree had a stem a good inch and more in diameter. Everything in our shrubbery fled in the path of the invading army.
I set to with the loppers, and when I eventually reached what was left of the fence and trimmed enough to look over it, this is what confronted me:

I had no choice but to pursue the lonicera along the boundary until I met the rest of it by the reclaimed patio shrubbery. No doubt had I continued in the other direction there would have been more.
All this makes me rather relieved that the garden on the other side is all laid to gravel.
This afternoon Helen came for a visit. This meant I had the perfect excuse to come inside and chat, and to leave the task unfinished.

Before that, I had reached a section of wire netting that our home’s previous owner had attached to the iron posts that seemingly were once supporting a fence. This had been shoved forward by the neighbour’s lonicera. I have begun to fix it back, although must remove more of the invader before I can make it taut. The cleared space shown is part of what I have hacked out.
Jackie produced a chicken jalfrezi (recipe) as marvellous as ever for our dinner this evening. We enjoyed it with boiled rice, vegetable samosas, and Cobra beer.

A Friend Of Sir Edwin

A clear nattier blue sky beamed down on us this morning. Dew on our lawn glittered, and, as Jackie drove us to Pennington, the sun’s shafts radiated on the road ahead. It was a marvellous day on which to explore yet another beautiful corner of our chosen area, and the outside of a house situated there.

Middle Common Lane belongs in a picture book, and King’s Huts in an architectural history.

The so-called huts are a horseshoe-shaped group of three pairs of semi-detatched Edwardian Estate cottages set in mature gardens with plenty of space between them. The original gate leading to a brick path taking you to the individual houses has recently been renewed.

It is number 1 that is for sale. Just outside is a makeshift notice pleading for careful driving because a deaf cat crosses the road. The house itself is so well secluded, that it is impossible to see it all from the roadside. Peering through the hedgerow or over the back gate shows you nothing. The estate agent produced a clear enough set of photographs from inside, and one of the other houses was more clearly visible from inside the general gate. Much of the garden has been given over to a garage and workshop, and an attractive summer house, thus increasing the amount of accommodation provided. There is, however, plenty more to cultivate and enjoy, as can be glimpsed over the side gate.

The houses were built in 1908 for Mrs Powell King of Wainsford. They were clearly influenced by her friend Sir Edwin Landseer Lutyens, arguably the greatest ever British architect, who left his mark all over the world, and particularly in New Delhi. His essential contribution was the imaginative adaptation of traditional styles to the requirements of his era. It looks to me as if King’s Huts owed something to his earlier, Arts and Crafts, period.

Our return to Minstead was greeted by grunting Gloucester Old Spots outside the Hall. The most vociferous was doing its best to dislodge parasites from its coat. Maybe this is why wooden posts protecting vulnerably placed buildings from intrusive motor cars are occasionally in need of replacement.

The midday sun enhanced the glorious geraniums Jackie potted up in the spring, placed in the communal hall, and has nurtured ever since. She also wishes Helen to know that the chillies she grew from seed given her by her sister have borne fruit.

The weather was unchanged when, this afternoon, I walked to the Lyndhurst surgery for a check on the last wart procedure. This meant retracing the morning’s drive as far as Swan Green where I turned left.

As I kept a close eye on the pony chomping on the left of the narrow lane leading to ‘The Splash’, I narrowly avoided ruffling the rump of another directly in front of me. If ponies made half enough noise at the trough as the pigs, this would not have happened.

The lesion hasn’t quite disappeared from my left shoulder, so another bout of freezing was required. Prof Lyon-Maris had a student with him. She was permitted to administer the flu jab which was inflicted on me whilst they were at it.

Jackie met me outside the practice, and drove me to Elizabeth’s, from where Danni ferried us all to Eastern Nights and we enjoyed the usual excellent meal with Bangla, Cobra, and white wine.

We diverted to Sainsbury’s Homebase in Hedge End to buy an oil-filled radiator, since one of the electric heaters installed in our vast sitting room is not working, and we are tired of holding our breath waiting for Tracy, the estate agent’s representative, to get anything done about it.

From The Firs Jackie drove me back home.