Love Knot – Page 2 – derrickjknight

Particularly Partial To A Love Knot

Today will apparently be the last warm and sunny day for a week, so, naturally it was spent pottering in the garden.

At the front two crab apple trees are blossoming,

and the saxifrages and other plants are beginning to decorate the stone edging which we hope they will soon festoon. Between the daffodils and the red tulips can be seen interesting ones that have yet to reveal their hues. We thinned out, and separated the libertia, one of which can be seen beside the drainpipe. Another cherry is blooming at top right.

Raised pots are employed to give height (and enable us to see the flowers, such as these violas filling a hanging basket, from our sitting room whilst still seated).

The back path between the Brick Path and North Breeze affords an interesting perspective on the Castle Bench. In the distance at top left can be seen the new leaves on the beech tree. There is always a possibility that a colourful bin for collecting up weeds will find its way into the picture. I prefer to leave them as found. It is, of course, a working garden.

Tulips are still emerging on the back drive.

One busy Small White butterfly dashed from honesty to honesty. It was difficult to keep tabs on it. Can you?

Here are three more angles on the clematis Montana arch employed yesterday.

These statuesque euphorbias were widespread throughout the garden. We have thinned them out a bit.

While we sat in the rose garden, I noticed that we were already suffering an invasion of greenfly. They are particularly partial to a Love Knot bud. We set about them with a spray.

This evening we dined at Lymington’s Lal Quilla. We both drank Kingfisher and shared egg fried rice, egg paratha, and onion bhaji. My main meal was king prawn Ceylon; Jackie’s was chicken Haryali. We enjoyed the usual excellent quality food and warm and friendly service.

‘That’s A Fork’

Today I joined The Head Gardener in the continuation of the clearance of the Unidentified Fir Bed. This meant tackling it from the Phantom Path side. Once freed from the rampant, choking, vinca, shrubs such as hebes had to be cut down to compensate for the legginess that had developed. The unnamed tree itself now revealed the base of its trunk for the first time.

In order to promote healthier growth, Jackie cut back a splendid ornamental grass, some of which has been placed in the vase which is an old chimney pot.

Opening out a bed to this extent is quite scary. It is our intention to retain a sense of surprise each time one turns a corner in our garden. This means it would be best not to be able to see right through certain beds to whatever lies beyond. It is an act of faith that, after regrowth and new planting, The Unidentified Fir Bed will regain its height.

The recent rains have given some of the rose blooms such as

this Love Knot,

or Mamma Mia, a motley appearance.

Schoolgirl, however, retains the bejewelled freshness of youth.

This afternoon we left the garden to its own devices and drove to the bank in New Milton and thence to Ray and Daphne’s to deliver prints of the photographs I had been unable to e-mail. At least one reason for this failure was that I had the wrong e-mail address.

Jackie produced an excellent meal of chicken in black bean sauce and egg fried rice of which the chef at Royal China would no doubt be proud. She drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the cabernet sauvignon.

There is, perhaps, nothing more chastening than when you insist on using chopsticks and your dining companion asks: ‘Wouldn’t it be easier to use a spoon?’, and you know that it would be. On this occasion I eventually succumbed and used my spoon. We then decided to have a Post House Pud, which long-term readers will understand consists of meringue nests topped with whatever is available. This time it was rhubarb crumble flavoured yoghurt. I had used the spoon pictured above, but still had my fork, which I considered adequate for extracting the yoghurt from its pot. ‘Now you haven’t got a spoon’, said Jackie, getting up and placing one beside me. Somewhat absent-mindedly I continued to start my dessert with the fork. ‘That’s a fork’, she said.

More Than It Could Chew?

It was yet another unseasonably hot day.

I cleared up after last night’s fire. It had become dark before I was able to finish the exercise. I gathered up the unburnt branches, chopped them up small, and piled them beside the incinerator which has taken the place of the two old wheelbarrows. The rusty metal one suffered enormously from being the pyre container until recently. The green one had been a pond in the Weeping Birch Bed, to which Jackie applied the finishing touches this morning.

She also completed her work on training the Wedding Day rose on the Agriframes Gothic Arch.

The rose garden, where most roses, like Love Knot, are blooming,

encourages a reflective mood.

We continue to enjoy an entomologist’s delight. Actually, I could do with a student of insects to identify what I think might be a baby spider contemplating wrapping up a bumble bee which might be a bit more than it could chew.

The cosmos gives an idea of scale.

This evening we drove over to Emsworth to visit Becky and Ian. Becky had some items for sale in the monthly Emsworth auction, which was very crowded. Our daughter sold an old wind-up gramophone and some Beatles records, among other things, but the prices were disappointing. Afterwards we dined on excellent fish, chips, and gherkins from a shop across the road, with Tesco’s mushy peas. Becky drank chianti and the rest of us enjoyed the Italian Birra Moretti.

Aesthetics Did Not Come Into The Equation

An ‘invisible shed’ has scooped the top prize in the ‘Shed of the Year’ competitiion at RHS Tatton.

Manchester School of Art were joint winners of the ‘Shed of the Year’ prize with their ‘Invisibility Tardis Shed of Navel Contemplation.’

As well as a mirrored exterior, the shed has mirrored walls on the inside reflecting any visitor back on themselves infinitely.

As a finishing touch, the artists added a mirror ball, turning the humble garden shed into a miniature disco.’

We think that is going a bit too far.

After yesterday’s searing heat, much of the morning was spent watering the hundreds (I do not exaggerate) of containers and the recently planted flowers.

Those readers who have read earlier posts about the work done inside the house will know that our predecessors appeared to be DIY enthusiasts. If there were enough ill-fitting materials to make something work, aesthetics did not come into the equation. If it were at all possible to position objects unaligned, crooked, or not matching, there would be no problem in finding a way.

So it was with the industrial strength hinge plate screwed halfway up the wooden arch into the rose garden. Set somewhat askew, and too wide for its post, with one empty eye socket,and a sagging cheek, it pleaded with us each time we entered that area. The Head Gardener decided it had to go. I knew at the outset that this would be a hack-saw job, but in order to avoid that, I initially, rather less than hopefully, tried screwdrivers, and even a bolt cutter.

Whilst labouring with the saw, I glanced down and spotted another plate at the foot of the post, thus confirming my suspicions that there would once have been a gate attached. Though why the structure had to be so strong was a mystery. The Head Gardener, of course, knew that the lower plate was there. She had hoped I would take that one off as well. My initial reaction was that no way was that going to happen. I couldn’t get down there for a start. But, on reflection that seemed rather churlish. So, using Jackie’s kneeler as a seat, I did the job.

Roses

Love Knot

and Festive Jewel

are both comparatively short climbers we have placed within small obelisks.

A clematis Warsaw Nike has taken to the Ace Reclaim Arch,

and fuchsia Frosted Flame, suspended from the dead Snake Bark maple overlooks the Brick Path.

I took a short walk into Downton Lane, sat on a wall, and waited for a shot. Two children entering a ‘tree tunnel’, obliged.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s luscious liver and bacon casserole (recipe) served with creamy mashed swede and potato, and crisp carrots and cauliflower, followed by apple and cherry pie and cream. The Cook supped Hoegaarden whilst I quaffed Teroldego Rotaliano superiore 2011.

The Name Of The Rose

Substituting scissors for secateurs, the Head Gardener began the day by cutting my hair. We settled the dispute about how long ago she last performed this pruning, by referring to our customary aide-memoire – this blog. It was 14th March. There were no pestiferous flies to eradicate.

It seemed only fair for me to cut the grass.

Before that, in the dim light penetrating the complete cloud cover, I photographed three of yesterday’s rose purchases.

Mum in a Million, yet to be planted, is positioned in front of Love Knot, already ascending its obelisk, as does Laura Ford, named after the contemporary sculptor, seen here on Wikipedia which tells us that the artist ‘[grew] up in a travelling fairground family to the age of sixteen and attended Stonar School in Wiltshire. [She studied] at Bath Academy of Art (1978–82), whilst spending a term at the Cooper Union School of Art in New York City. She was invited to take part in the annual New Contemporaries at Institute of Contemporary Arts(1982). Ford has lived and worked in London since 1982 since studying at Chelsea School of Art (1982–83).’ She is photographed working on China Cats, commissioned by Shanghai Sculpture Park in 2012.

On the former compost bed

the gladioli have opened out; the echinaceas have taken on their natural pink hue; and pollinating bees vie for position, plundering the remaining poppies.

By this afternoon blooms had appeared on the roses

Summer Wine, already slaking the thirst of a hoverfly,and Jacqueline du Pré, named after the great cellist.

Wikipedia, featuring this photograph of du Pre with her Davidov Stradivarius of 1712, and her husband Daniel Barenboim, has this to say about her:

‘Jacqueline Mary du Pré, OBE (26 January 1945 – 19 October 1987) was an English cellist. At a young age, she achieved enduring mainstream popularity unusual for a classical performer. Despite her short career, she is regarded as one of the more uniquely talented cellists of the second half of the twentieth century.

Du Pré is most famous for her iconic recording of Elgar‘s Cello Concerto in E Minor, her interpretation of which has been described as “definitive” and “legendary”.^[1]

Her career was cut short by multiple sclerosis, which forced her to stop performing at the age of 28. She battled the illness for many years, which ultimately resulted in an untimely death.’

Everyone of my generation will remember her well.

We completed more planting.

Jackie moved the Mum in a Million, and, in honour of her late, beloved mother, flanked it by two Veronicas. Then came the turn of Hot Chocolate, and Rose Gaujard, known until yesterday as lost label. This bears the name of its mid-twentieth century breeder, Jean Gaujard. It was slightly disappointing to learn that there was no-one called Rose for whom the plant was named.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s sublime cottage pie, enhanced by the inclusion of ground cumin and coriander leaves; peas, cabbage, and carrots; followed by profiteroles. My accompaniment was more of the merlot. Jackie had already finished her Hoegaarden.

Afterwards, I made the mistake of watching the highlights of the first day of the Lords Ashes Test Match in which Australia scored 337 runs for 1 wicket. That’s good news if you are an Aussie.

Tag: Love Knot

Particularly Partial To A Love Knot

‘That’s A Fork’

More Than It Could Chew?

Aesthetics Did Not Come Into The Equation

‘A place for reflection: ‘invisible’ shed wins top prize

The Name Of The Rose