Lurking In The Shade

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Today Aaron and Robin levelled out the soil flanking the new fence and cleared away our last items of debris in preparation for building a log store.

Bath and other debris

The rubbish included the buried bath, now in its last resting place on the Back Drive, before removal to the dump.

Walking in The Sea Back 002

I finished reading Barrie Haynes novelette ‘Walking in the Sea’ this morning. The illustrator is Barrie’s young granddaughter whose cover appeared on https://derrickjknight.com/2016/08/05/deadheading/

The blurb accurately describes the essence of this scurrilous romp which would probably, perhaps slightly Bowdlerised, provide the basis of a good TV detective series plot. Written almost entirely in the present tense, with direct, uncomplicated, and amusing prose, the book carries the reader along, keeping its essential secrets to the end. It was certainly easier reading than Jane Austen, its humour requiring rather less work.

Brambles 1

I have occasionally mentioned our ongoing battle against invading brambles. This is what happens if we relax for  week.

Brambles 2

This time I reached over the fence with the long loppers in order to stem the flow at the lowest possible level.

Dragon's Bed 1Dragon's Bed 2

On my way back down the garden I spied The Head Gardener lurking in the shade beside the Dragon’s Bed.

Crocosmias

There are two types of crocosmia in this bed. The yellow one did not flower at all last year.

Cosmoses with bees

Drowsy bees clambered in and out of the cosmoses.

Florences's view

Here is Florence’s view past the hanging geraniums to Compassion rose climbing across the Dead End Path;

Hollyhocks

whilst beside the Phantom Path to the left, Margery’s hollyhocks soar aloft.

Rudbeckia

There are several clumps of Rudbeckia. This one is in the Palm Bed.

Ornamental grass, petunias, lobelias, nicotiana sylvestris

At the corner of the Cryptomeria Bed, ornamental grass; petunias, lobelia, and geraniums in hanging baskets; nicotiana; and buddleia stand in line.

Sprinkler

We enjoyed a drink in the Rose Garden where Jackie operated the sprinkler, and

Fuchsia and beyond

a fuchsia leads us past phlox and through the arch beside the hollyhocks featured above.

Jackie’s dinner this evening consisted of pork medallions baked in mustard and brown sugar topped with almond flakes; courgette, tomato and onion gratin; crisp carrots and green beans; boiled new potatoes; and tasty gravy. The Culinary Queen drank Becks and I drank sparkling water.

The Death Of The Heart

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Today, I have been mostly watering plants.

Nicotiana

Nicotiana now soars aloft.

Clematis Diversifolia Hendersonii

Several of our clematises, such as Diversifolia Hendersonii

Clematis Queen Mother

and Queen Mother in the front garden,

Clematis

and Duchess of Albany on the Rose Garden pergola bear hats of invisible pixies frolicking and turning somersaults in the sunshine.

Lily 1

This lily has taken two years to bloom.

Lily 2

Many, like this one, live just one day.

Bee on nasturtium

Bees are drawn to our nasturtiums.

Kniphofia

The kniphofias have poked their way up through the soil,

DDahlias

as have the red hot dahlias in the New Bed. The first is Bishop of Llandaff. I’m not sure about the others.

View from Shady Path

This view from the Shady Path encompasses

Hollyhocks

Margery’s hollyhocks.

While I was watering, Ronan was fixing our boiler, not that we will need heating any time soon.

The Death Of The Heart001

This is the blurb on the back cover of

The Death Of The Heart002

which I finished reading this evening.

When my blogging friend, Lisa learned that I was embarking on this novel she remembered that when she had read it, a long time ago, she had found it sad. I would trust Lisa’s judgement ahead of the book’s publicists.

If this is a story of adolescent love in the thirties, I am glad my teenage years were in the fifties. In my view it was more a tale of isolation and loneliness. I agree with the ‘Passion, misunderstanding…..’ paragraph above, but if this an example of ‘sublime sense of comedy’ it is so black as to be invisible to me. Remind me not to try The Orchid Trilogy.

Having said all this, I must concede that Bowen ‘is a major writer’. The book is well constructed; the prose is elegant; she has a keen eye for detail; and she develops character well. But does she like any of her creations?

Finally, Augustus John’s model has far more spirit about her than the unfortunate Portia.

This evening Jackie enjoyed a meal out with her friend, Pauline (not our NZ one); and I dined sumptuously on scrambled egg on toast and Doom Bar.

Tom Daley

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Jackie continued her creative miracles on the various beds. I rendered sporadic assistance in dead-heading, weeding, clearing up, and humping bags of compost.

Head Gardener's Walk

Here are current views of The Head Gardener’s Walk

Shady Path

and The Gazebo Path, looking across Margery’s bed in which her hollyhocks are now in bloom.

Petunias in hanging basket

Petunias in hanging baskets are ubiquitous,

Lilies 1Lilies 2New Bed

as are lilies of many different kinds in various beds. Currently they share The New Bed with dahlias and clematises.

Rose Garden

In the Rose Garden, before I’d finished dead-heading, the pink carpet rose was laid out before Love Knot, poppies, and petunias;

For Your Eyes Only

and For Your Eyes Only caught the sun.

Particularly in the morning, falling petals are suspended from spidery filaments. Spinning in the breeze some,

Fuchsia on web-string

like this fuchsia, have the appearance of Tom Daley taking off,

Honeysuckle (rocket)

or, such as this honeysuckle, shuttles aiming for space stations.

In case anyone needs to know this is what Wikipedia has to say about Tom Daley:

‘Thomas Robert “Tom” Daley (born 21 May 1994)[2] is a British diver and television personality. Daley specialises in the 10 metre platform event and was the 2009 FINA World Champion in the individual event at the age of 15. He started diving at the age of seven and is a member of Plymouth Diving Club. He has made an impact in national and international competitions from age 9. He represented Great Britain at the 2008 Summer Olympics where he was Britain’s youngest competitor, the youngest competitor of any nationality outside the sport of swimming, and the youngest to participate in a final.[5] In 2009, Daley reached a career best ranking of number one in the FINA World Diving Rankings for the ten-metre platform.[6]

He won two gold medals for England at the 2010 Commonwealth Games, in the 10 metre synchro diving (with Max Brick) and the 10 m Individual Platform competition,[7] and won the bronze medal for Great Britain in the individual competition at the 2012 Summer Olympic Games.[8]

After his success at the 2012 Olympic Games and a summer of great sporting interest amongst the public in the UK, television network ITV approached Daley to have a role in their new celebrity diving reality TV show Splash!. Daley made his debut in the show’s premiere on 5 January 2013 as a mentor to the celebrity competitors taking part.[9]

With the increasing warmth, the butterflies are back.

Peacock butterfly on hebe

Here a Peacock performs its trapeze routine on a hebe.

Ronan, from Tom Sutton, came to fix our boiler which has stopped working. Unfortunately there were several issues, one being a faulty control box which he will have to obtain tomorrow. We won’t stink, because we have an immersion heater in the shower.

Tonight we dined on Jackie’s wholesome heart casserole, creamy mashed potato, and crunchy carrots. The Culinary Queen drank Hoegaarden, and I made a start on the excellent Brancott Estate merlot/cabernet sauvignon 2014 given to me for my birthday by Shelly and Ron.

Bunting

This morning’s garden maintenance including more pruning, weeding, and digging up of brambles. Coma butterfly on verbena bonarensis

Comma butterflies are still transfixed by the verbena bonarensis.

Here are two views of the work in progress in the rose garden:

Rose garden work in progress 1Rose garden work in progress 2

  The reason for the hose is that each new plant requires four gallons of water daily, and we are not getting any rain. Jackie’s stepping stones can be seen; and also, in the second picture, the first of her brick pillars on which stands a pot including white cosmos under the apple tree.The two bricks in the foreground are the start of another. Four further views are from corners of the Phantom Path. Hollyhocks

The first, through Margery’s hollyhocks takes us across the grass patch to the Brick Path;

View from corner of Phantom Path 1

shifting slightly to the right at this western end gives a different perspective;

View from corner of Phantom Path 2

from the other end, we have two different views looking north, towards the house,

View from corner of Phantom Path 3

then the shed, over the door of which Jackie has hung cloth bunting.

As I set out for another session this afternoon, I was reprieved by a long and enjoyable phone call from Sam, who did his best to maintain a poker voice, as he was also watching the cricket in Perth, Australia, and knew I didn’t want to know what happened until I watched the highlights this evening. My second respite came when Shelly popped in for a visit. Early this evening I attempted an aerial photograph of the garden. We have Everest windows throughout the house. They are not meant to be fully opened, so it is impossible from upstairs to take in the whole picture. This is the best I could manage from our dressing room:Garden aerial view As always, clicking on this image, once, then a second time will enlarge the picture to reveal much more detail. For example the little chair in the rose garden will locate that feature. Stone edging

After this Jackie and I relaid stone edging in a small bed leading to the rose garden.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s tasty cottage pie, carrots, peas, and cabbage. Dessert was apple pie and cream brought to us by Shelly. Jackie drank sparkling water whilst I finished the malbec.

The Great Diver

As is now customary, I began the day with a meander round the garden. Decking

This is how Jackie has refurbished the knackered decking;

Elizabeth's bed sign

and here is her sign for Elizabeth’s bed.

Phlox and stepping stones

She has positioned stepping stones between Aaron’s paving, and added phlox to the rose garden.

Dahlia Bishop of Llandaff, poppies, foxgloves, and hollyhockDahlia Bishop of Llandaff

In the former compost bed the dahlia Bishop of Llandaff and a yellow hollyhock now rise among foxgloves and poppies, now adopting their sculptural quality as they begin to seed.

Hollyhock

Red hollyhocks bloom elsewhere in the garden. The seeds of this one were a gift from Margery.

HebeBee on hebe

Bees were busy on the Phantom Path hebe. You may need to search for this one.

Since it was men’s semi-final day at Wimbledon, I spent the afternoon on the sofa watching tennis balls travel back and forth across the TV screen. Two splendid matches were in progress. In each, one player who performed extremely well was beaten in straight sets by another who played even better. Djokovic was probably expected to beat Gasquet, but the Frenchman put up a great fight, probably playing his best tennis.

Tension was the norm in the match between Murray and the phenomenal Federer. More or less from the start, Andy Murray had his work cut out, but fought back time and again to make us think that perhaps he had a chance. Roger Federer had other ideas.

We learned that Novak Djokovic, a great slider on the tennis court, has engaged Boris Becker as his coach. Between the two matches, we were treated to highlights of the seventeen year old Becker’s first Wimbledon competition, in which he dived and slid all over the place, to become the first unseeded winner of the tournament. I can believe it was thirty years ago I watched that amazing final.boris-becker-wimbledon

I am not sure who took this amazing photograph, but it appears on Turnstile and Fashion website, advertising the player’s shoes.

After the second match, I helped Jackie plant yesterday’s purchases. This morning she bought a white lace-cap hydrangea for the shady corner by the orange shed. When I hit more concrete and rubble whilst digging the whole, I put the job off for another day, and Jackie stood the plant in a bucket of water.

This evening we dined on succulent roast pork with crisp crackling, boiled potatoes, and cabbage, carrots, and runner beans, followed by profiteroles. Jackie drank Hoegaarden, and I opened a bottle of Louis de Camponac cabernet sauvignon 2014.

Holly’s Beauty

ConvulvulusLight rain began to fall just as I left home to repeat the walk I had taken with Matthew and Oddie on 7th.  This precipitation was to take the form of intermittent showers for the first three quarters of an hour or so.  During the few periods when the sun pierced the grey cloud cover, the hedgerows, now counting convulvulus among their constituents, glistened with the raindrops.  Not having the excuse of Mat’s ageing little terrier to call Jackie to collect me from the bottle bank, I had to walk the final stretch up Running Hill as well.

Little Chef

Pavement relicOnce I had emerged from the forest at Little Chef I was alongside the A31 for a short time.  I passed that building, the Travelodge, the Esso garage and various houses which are found roughly at the area where the signs to Stoney Cross bring the hopeful traveller.

What is now a major East/West dual carriageway has very little in the way of pedestrian thoroughfares.  The derelict footpath from just past the Esso garage to Forest Road betrays the fact that ordinary people without cars once trod this way.  Now it is only people like me who venture along it.  HollyhocksA row of hardy hollyhocks, having escaped to the central reservation, clung to the thin soil as passing vehicles did their best to create enough turbulence to tear them up.Thurston

I exchanged waves with a woman working in a garden not far from a tall, isolated, house called Rufuston that seems to have its own Royal Mail collection box.  The name must come from the nearby Rufus Stone (see post of 19th November last year). As I reached this house I paused to photograph it.  The woman tentatively, with a quizzical look, approached me from my left.  She wondered why I was taking photographs.  It seemed a reasonable question really, especially as  it was her house whose image I had just pocketed.  My explanation of what I was up to must have reassured her, for we parted pleasantly and she expressed the wish that the weather would stay fine for the rest of my walk.

At the bottom of the hill that leads from The Splash to the Furzey Gardens junction, Tim was digging mud out of the ditch that leads to his farm.  This trench joins a pipe that runs under the road.  Like the ditch, the pipe was full of soggy earth.  Tim was working to clear as much as he could from the ditch and the underground pipe. Tim I have before wondered whether there was a machine to carry out this task.  If there is, Tim wasn’t aware of it as he plied his garden fork.  Although the farm is his, he said the land on which the road lies belongs to the manor, the owners of which, in his view are responsible for the clearance.  Apparently in the old days there was a villager with a technical title Tim couldn’t remember, whose job it was to keep the ditches clear.  Tim also told me that the two goats and few sheep on his little farm are what might be called rescue animals. The goats were found abandoned as kids some fourteen years ago near Godshill; the sheep were ailing as lambs and bottle-fed in the same haven.  I joked that if I found any stray creature in the forest I would know where to bring it.

This afternoon was spent once again grappling with security problems with BT e-mail accounts.  Firstly I received one of those hijacking missives purporting to come from someone in urgent need of money.  Because the whole e-mail address of the sender is taken over by these evil scammers, any reply never reaches the alleged originator.  It goes to the crooks.  This happened to Louisa a year or so ago.  Chris and Frances were said to have been mugged in Rome where the Embassy was unhelpful.  Chris was visiting our mother in West End at the time.  These messages are instantly recognisable firstly because anyone in such dire need would use the telephone, and secondly because the English is so appalling.  Neither Louisa nor Chris would write so badly.  The whole business is a dreadful headache for the true account holder, because it affects everyone in their address book.  All contacts are lost.

As I was contemplating the plight of my brother and sister-in-law I received an e-mail allegedly from Yahoo! Customer Care which seemed to me to be equally spurious and contained the usual booby-trapped ‘Click here’ message.  It had not even been put into the Spam folder by BTYahoo! mail.  I smelt a rat and phoned BT.  When I finally got to an agent he said he didn’t deal with such technical matters and consequently put me in a queue for technical help.  It took some time before I got a person, who didn’t know whether this latest message was Spam or not.  After I read it out two or three times, pointing out the errors and where it didn’t seem to make sense, she decided it was more likely than not to be a scam.  She advised me to put it into the Spam folder and send it to abuseadbt.  I asked if that was all one word and we managed between us to establish that it wasn’t.  The ad bit was the symbol @.  When I asked how I was now to have any faith in BT security she told me that she herself had been unable to receive messages for six months because she had been hacked and her password rejected, until suddenly it was accepted again.  This failed to reassure me.

I had opted to take part in a telephone survey after the call.  It consisted of a triple choice questionnaire, 1 for good, 2 for bad, 3 for unsure; followed by an opportunity to make recorded comments about why I had scored it as I did.  I took the opportunity.  In the midst of this, despite the repetition of how important and helpful my views would be, I must have run out of time, for I was cut off in full flow.  It was a machine that conducted the survey. I don’t think it was programmed to register when it has interrupted the customer and call them back to offer more time.  Either that or I upset it when I mentioned that a difference in accents of spoken English makes for a certain difficulty in communication.

I am not convinced of the security of my e-mail account.  I cannot understand how the survey as performed can be of benefit to anyone.  BT, if you read this, I am open to all attempts at reassurance on either matter.

Fuchsia Holly's beautyOf all the different varieties of fuchsia Jackie has been growing in her pots, the one the blooms of which she has most eagerly awaited is named ‘Holly’s beauty’ (otherwise known to her as Orlaith).  This has come into its own today.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s chilli con carne and pilau rice.  My drink was Chilano cabernet sauvignon 2011 and Jackie’s was Hoegaarden.