Ramblings
Hanging its head, the garden wept early this morning;
to brighten later;
albeit with less than entirely dry cheeks. Bees basked on sunlit blooms;
as did butterflies like this Red Admiral on the lobelia.
Jackie’s planting
of phlox in the West Bed
brought her little robin, Nugget, out in search of goodies. “Where’s Nugget?” (6)
Here we lost internet connection, so I am sending this from The Royal Oak.
This was a day of wind, rain, colder temperatures, coats, and central heating. A bit like Dunedin’s winter.
During a brief period of lessening rain Jackie continued her work on securing sweet peas and other climbing plants; rehanging baskets; and setting other planters back on their perches.
Here are some of the finished projects. The begonias in the penultimate image lost a few broken stems from which Jackie is attempting to produce roots. She is doing the same with a proliferation of pelargoniums.
These ginger lilies happily survived.
Most flowers were bejewelled with raindrops.
This was not a day for little birds to come out and play.
We dined this evening on a second sitting of Hordle Chinese Take Away’ excellent fare with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Shiraz.
Last night I watched a recording of Saturday’s breathtaking rugby match between Wales and South Africa; after lunch today the soporific contest between Scotland and Argentina.
Bright sunshine had taken me into the rather cold garden this morning.
Winter pansies and trailing ivy adorn hanging baskets on the sitting room walls.
Geraniums
and Japanese maples brighten several vistas.
Surprises include lingering snapdragons
and nascent honeysuckle.
Ubiquitous flamboyant fuchsias continue to flounce among the beds.
Clematises needing warmer weather have died back from the gazebo, but the Cirrhosa Freckles will enliven their support right through until spring.
Carpet roses, like this one in the Weeping Birch Bed, pile on the blooms.
Serpentine stemmed bobbles of Japanese anemones cavort before a spider web in the Rose Garden.
A few crinkly leaves are still to fall from the copper beach;
the Weeping Birch has shed all hers.
Being possessed of our one joint good knee, it fell upon Jackie to fit a new toilet seat in the print room.
This evening we dined on Jackies’s splendid lamb jalfrezi with savoury rice followed by profiteroles. My wife drank Hoegaarden; sister Elizabeth drank Hop House lager; and I drank Tesco’s finest Médoc 2016.
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This year we have enjoyed a bumper crop on the apple tree we inherited. Previously it has produced just a handful of weedy fruit which never came to anything. I picked a few after lunch.
On this gloriously warm and sunny day, Jackie continued with the refurbishment of the Weeping Birch Bed on which she has spent many hours over the last few days. Like many of the beds in the garden, this one has been laid over solid concrete, the soil gradually seeping through the dry brick and stone retaining wall onto the gravel which we laid down a couple of years ago. Most plants were now rooted in very few inches of earth. The Head Gardener has rebuilt the wall; sifted much soil and gravel; cleared an access footpath; replenished the soil with compost; weeded and replanted, along the way digging out stray rocks, including tufa.
Experts are now dictating that asters should now be called something long and forgettable, yet the Autumn Jewel variety now settled in its new home does not bear the new nomenclature. We will therefore continue to term the plants beside the rose that has no name, facing self-seeded bidens across the brick path, as we have done all our lives.
We are enjoying a variety of the once unfashionable dahlias,
some of which,
like these euphorbia and kniphofia, still attract bees and wasps,
as, especially, do sedums, now rivalling geranium in richness of red.
This Small White butterfly rented the verbena bonariensis on a short term lease from the bees.
Geraniums, lobelia, and Japanese anemones continue to thrive;
while, in the Rose Garden, Mama Mia and Absolutely Fabulous are among those furnishing further flushes.
This evening we finished Jackie’s splendid pasta arrabbiata with which she drank Hoegaarden while Elizabeth and I drank Patrick Chodot’s Brouilly 2016.
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Late yesterday afternoon, Jackie created a new bed alongside the Head Gardener’s Walk on a piece of barren ground around the bases of holly and bay trees.
She earned her period in the Gardener’s Rest where she slaked her thirst with sparkling water
Having been held in a snarl up on the M27 for over an hour, Elizabeth’s friends Pauline and Jo were forced to abandon their visit to the garden. I therefore stepped out on their behalf.
I wandered along the Gazebo Path,
glancing to the left across to the Dragon Bed and the new wooden arch.
These, of course, are dahlia days. A white break has appeared among the petals of the single red one, and a hoverfly homes in on Puerto Rico.
Fuchsias like Mrs Popple continue to thrive.
These potted pansies have bloomed continuously since early spring.
Polish Spirit is just one example of the clematises that continue flowering.
Sculpture Florence stands proud on Fiveways.
Japanese anemones proliferate.
While I was at it, I picked some runner beans for tonight’s dinner.
A number of gladioli are pleased to be alive;
as are numerous petunias gracing hanging baskets.
Bees, like these milking bright blue heliotrope and blushing sedum, toil away, taking advantage of our Indian summer.
Love Knot and Margaret Merrill are just two of the roses basking in
the Rose Garden, where Absolutely Fabulous and Lady Emma Hamilton, in their maturity, are plumply alluring.
As I came to the end of my tour, Jackie arrived home with a garden centre trophy in the form of an ailing hydrangea. We have often seen how these bargains respond to her nurturing.
Jo sent Elizabeth a text showing her mother bearing the flowers that had been meant for us.
The timing was perfect, because we were sitting in the patio while we ate their cake.
This evening the three of us dined on Jackie’s delicious sausage casserole; swede mash, crunchy carrots, and the tender aforementioned runner beans. The Culinary Queen drank Hoegaarden while Elizabeth and I finished the Malbec.
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Friends Rob and Helen visited for lunch today. They arrived late in the morning and remained until early evening. We spent a very enjoyable afternoon catching up with each other.
For lunch Jackie had made a superb leek and potato soup followed by plentiful cold meats and salads. Rob and I shared a bottle of Languedoc red wine of 2016 vintage.
Helen and I began early on a photographic tour of the garden.
She used a very impressive Fuji bridge camera,
and actually focussed on some of my own favourite subjects, such as begonias
and the rose For Your Eyes Only.
Alongside the latter, Lady Emma Hamilton is rejuvenated,
continuing to bloom in The Rose Garden where red antirrhinums still thrive.
Autumn leaves are beginning to fall. Some, suspended in spiders’ webs, wait to reach this glass table on the decking.
Among the clematises enjoying another flowering are these in the Back Drive Barrier boxes, leading the eye from the purple petunias to the now reddening leaves of Virginia creeper on the back fence;
and this one sharing Margery’s Bed with Japanese anemones.
Petunias continue to cascade from the iron urn,
and from the hanging basket over the Shady Path. Begonias are planted in the bed below and New Guinea impatiens shares the basket.
Here is today’s example of a fuchsia. Helen created many good images of these and others.
We walked up and down paths like the one termed Gazebo
sharing the corner of Margery’s Bed with the Phantom Path.
Just before lunch Jackie and Rob joined us.
Rob was intrigued by the regeneration of the apparently dead yellow leaved tree that has live stems on either side of the wasted trunk.
Given that rain set in early this afternoon, we had chosen the best part of the day to concentrate on the garden.
Jackie and I just grazed on small plates of salad this evening.
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This morning Jackie continued her autumn clearing and planting in the garden. This afternoon I tidied up a bit then wandered around with my camera.
Petunias and geraniums continue to glow, with bright little erigerons still standing proud;
and diascias and begonias adding to the music.
The lead hat on the patio wall would grace an Ascot attender,
although she might not be happy about the resident bee.
Other insects enjoying the warm weather include this fly on a New Guinea impatiens.
Fuchsias are among the delights of the Dragon Bed,
of the Kitchen Bed,
and of Elizabeth’s Bed.
That second example, via dahlia Coup de Soleil, continues the chrysanthemums’ colour in the top left hand corner of this Oval Bed view. The yellow nasturtium peeping into the bottom right hand corner is just one of
many rambling around the garden.
Rhododendron leaves in the Palm Bed form a sinuous shape with the rudbeckias,
seen in the same bed dancing with Japanese anemones;
or taking the eye through the regenerating eucalyptus to the yellowing leaves of the weeping birch.
A similar yellow palette is taken up through the Kitchen Bed by way of the eucomises, the potted ginkgo, and the bronze fennel;
whereas the pale pink diascias in the iron urn lead us to the hot geraniums and dahlias beyond.
A dragon stands proud, protecting plants in its eponymous bed.
Still the Chilean tree produces lanterns,
while gentler hued colchicums sprawl across the soil opposite.
Begonias still glow in their hanging basket alongside the Heligan Path over the Cryptomeria Bed,
and sunlight has a similar effect on this penstemon.
An array of supporting plants accompany the roses in their Garden,
where such as Festive Jewel display several generations at once.
Even the patch of grass delights in the day.
Perhaps this is what John meant when he came to paint the garden and observed “so much colour”.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s luscious lemon chicken with her especially savoury vegetable rice – itself a veritable complete meal. She drank Hoegaarden and I finished the sangiovese.
P.S. See my response to Luanne below as a recipe for the vegetable rice.
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This morning I became a veritable barber in a dead-heading spree.
I began with the prolific Japanese anemones in the front garden.
As I look out of my sitting room window each morning, I think of that excellent blogging poet Pleasant Street, who commented recently that she preferred to see older blooms alongside the fresh ones, “like life”. Although our reason for dead-heading is not vicariously to deny the effects of ageing, but rather to promote new growth, Pleasant certainly has a point. In deference to that I have left the blooms immediately in view to nature.
I also gathered up some of the branches broken by the winds. As the day continued the winds gradually returned to approach the 60 m.p.h. expected this evening.
Remarkably little damage has so far been incurred. Here are the Palm Bed;
the corners at the house end of the Brick Path;
the Gazebo Path;
Elizabeth’s Bed;
the solanum and clematis draped on the dead tree;
perked-up dahlias;
petunias and begonias in large pots;
chrysanthemums;
and rose Gloriana.
The Small White butterflies flitted around everywhere.
This afternoon Elizabeth visited and we took a trip to Molly’s Den, where I photographed a few random displays.
Not quite so random was this scene, taking me back to one Christmas in the 1980s.
Louisa would have been about six or seven when Jessica and I bought her an ironing board. “Just like Daddy’s”, was her delighted cry.
This evening, before Elizabeth returned home, we dined on Jackie’s perfect pork paprika and wild rice. Jackie drank Hoegaarden and my sister and I drank more of the Fleurie.
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Although, like this on these marigolds, a certain amount of ash remains from the North Breeze bonfire,
the prevailing wind has changed and the fire much less prevalent. The mechanical digger glimpsed over the fence is levelling the now plantless next door garden.
This afternoon we both took up deadheading again. When I became bored with snipping, I wandered around with the camera for a while.
This is a view from Margery’s Bed looking towards the Rose Garden
where Rosa Gaujard is among the flourishing roses
and Clematis Duchess of Albany festoons the arbour.
Alongside the Brick Path
lies the Palm Bed with its resplendent rudbeckia and Japanese anemones.
From the Shady Path we are led towards the house.
Just visible among the wisteria leaves these rich red dahlias stand proud,
while a striated variety remains out of range to the left of the picture.
This similar view from further along the path
contains the hanging basket featuring bell-like begonias.
Delicate pink Crinum Powellii swamp lilies float over
the Cryptomeria Bed.
All the hanging baskets demonstrate their gratitude that their thirst has been regularly slaked.
Clematises like Star of India continue to shine,
and New Guinea impatiens brightens several beds.
I didn’t get around to deadheading these cosmoses, because
Jackie brought me the telephone which emitted the voice of our mortgage advisor. I needed to return inside, turn on the computer, download some documents, and endeavour, with his assistance to understand their contents. This took some time, and I wasn’t up to returning to the gardening afterwards. Instead, I drafted this description of the condition of our garden as September approaches.
This evening we dined at Lymington’s Lal Quilla where, despite the fact that they were very busy, we received our usual warm welcome and friendly service with excellent food. My choice was lamb naga. We shared special fried rice, a plain naan and an onion bhaji; and both drank Kingfisher.
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As shown from the solanum and honeysuckle on the trellis, our front garden remained free of ash from next door’s bonfire,
and, although some the precipitation, such as this on the pulmonaria
and Japanese anemones, remains,
the fire has died down and we are able to see the garden views again, and beds like that of the Dragon are able once more to savour the sunlight.
This decorative dahlia
sharing the Oval Bed with orange hawkweed,
bidens, phlox, and rampant rudbeckia, basks in a more pleasant source of warmth.
Gladioli and sweet peas retain their pristine whiteness;
contents of the iron urn cascade over the Brick Path;
and these potted chrysanthemums enjoy the increase of light provided by the removal of the North Breeze jungle.
Splendid stinging nettles, like this one in Elizabeth’s Bed, are making their presence felt. They will have to go.
Little cherry tomatoes are ripening;
the grass looks lush;
and the Weeping Birch Bed,
Kitchen Bed,
and Rose Garden, fresh again.
Now, what do we have here? “Ladybird, ladybird, fly away home; your house is on fire and your children are gone.”
This afternoon we are on our way to Emsworth for a family celebration of Becky’s birthday. We will stay overnight and I will report on that tomorrow. It will be an Italian meal at Nicolino’s.