30.8.14
This morning, I continued the task of cleaning and tidying the house, and separating the intruders’ belongings from mine.
My friends in Le Code Bar where I went to post ‘On The Road’, were very supportive. Laurence, even though we had not met for a year, was most warm in hers.
This afternoon I finished reading Ivan Turgenev’s masterpiece, ‘On The Eve’. In the 1850s, when he worked on the novel, the world was about to change through Russia’s devastating war with the English and European alliance. This is a tragic love story, beautifully, sensitively, and insightfully written. The characters are well drawn, and the prose flows pleasingly. The last chapters in which the ill-fated couple Elena and Insarov spend an evening watching ‘La Traviata’ brilliantly ties up the story, for, like Verdi’s heroine, Insarov is dying of consumption.
My Folio Society edition is elegantly illustrated by Lauren Nassef.
The lowering sun cast a splendid light across the forecourt of Le Code Bar this evening,
as 
I dined on magret of duck, chips, and salad, with sparkling Pellegrino to drink.
Before that, I had struggled to unblock the wash basin in the bathroom. This involved undoing the pipes underneath, draining off the water, and peering down the plughole which contained a perfectly fitting little round scent bottle. From beneath, I pushed it up and out with the handle of a wooden spoon.
The key to the letterbox on the wall outside has gone missing.
Tag: Ivan Turgenev
The Fender
The garden looked glorious in the morning light. In fact the morning glories lived up to their name. 
It was difficult to remember that the newly created bed through which runs the head gardener’s path was a jungle of bramble and overgrown shrubs completely obscuring the fence behind, on which were trained unseen clematises and camellias.
A clerodendrum Trichotomum is coming into flower. These delicate blooms have various transformations to go through before they are done with delighting us.
A very leggy hardy fuchsia, rescued from the jungle at the far end of the garden now clings to the netting fixed to a tall dead tree stump.
Most of our Japanese anemones are white, but there are some strategically placed pink versions, like this one growing through the red leaved maple.
The lace cap hydrangea attracts insects like the hoverfly in this picture.
I have mentioned before that the small white butterflies flit about barely settling for a second. They are partial to the plants in the iron urn. 
If you have managed to find the hoverfly above, you may care to try your luck with this well-camouflaged butterfly on the lobelia.
This afternoon I read Hisham Matar’s introduction to Ivan Turgenev’s ‘On The Eve’, then started on the novel itself. I also did a little watering of plants, and staked up a gladiolus.
Early this evening, Becky, Ian, Flo, and Scooby, came to stay for a few days. With them, they brought birthday presents for Jackie and me jointly from them and Mat and Tess. 
The major shared present was a beautiful copper Art Nouveau fender 
which fits quite well in front of our wood burning stove. On each side of the stove itself tands one of a pair of bookends that Becky had given me about five years ago.
We all dined this evening on a splendidly authentic Jackie curry meal, consisting of lamb jalfrezi (recipe), chicken and egg korma, vegetable samosas, and pilau rice (recipe). Hoegaarden and fruit juice was consumed by the others whilst I drank Castillo de Alcoy 2010.
After this Ian and I walked with Scooby around the maize field.