pansies – Page 7 – derrickjknight

2Cellos

If we ever get a winter this year, I wonder how our

iris Unguicularis,

daffodils and pansies,

hellebores,

and camellias will fare.

On an afternoon of steady rain, the mood was lifted by two elements.

First, the sky cleared enough to give us a reasonable sunset.

Then………..

Becky tuned in to YouTube and blew our minds.

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CGU2BBeKaXM?list=PLrRtwIUSeaCH1dVJLFBE48KKShv-VIWI0&w=560&h=315]

Follow the link.

Even if you have only ten minutes to spare. Follow. The link.

If it does not blow yours, you have no soul.

Wikipedia begins its pages on the duo with: ‘2Cellos (stylized 2CELLOS) is a Croatian^[2]^[3] cello duo, consisting of classically trained Luka Šulić and Stjepan Hauser. Signed to Sony Masterworks since 2011, they released three albums and play mainly instrumental arrangements of well-known pop and rock songs.^[4] The duo perform internationally and have been featured on several US TV shows including Glee and The Bachelor (Season 18/Sean and Catherine’s Wedding) [1]‘

This evening we dined on Jackie’s classic sausage casserole, crisp carrots and Brussels sprouts, and mashed potatoes, followed by spicy apple crumble and cream. My beverage was more of the Sotillo, Jackie’s Hoegaarden. Ian’s San Miguel, and Becky’s rose wine.

Before And After: The Patio

Once more, wet and warm described the day’s weather.

Although we have created a gravelled patio at the south end of the garden, there always was a designed one alongside the back of the house. This, in April 2014 was full of weeds and the surrounding areas were overgrown. Our project is a continuing one, so will no doubt evolve still further, but The Patio is the final section, prepared today, for the garden album.

On 7th May 2014 the area was dominated by next door’s photinia and lonicera hedge; and our own ficus and poplar.

By 13th, we had weeded the cracks between the paving stones, but not yet disguised the blue painted Butler sink;

by 27th, our trees were trimmed;

and by 28th the sink was surrounded by rocks on shingle, and we had refurbished the boundary with our neighbours, using a length of ornamental wrought iron and a useless door from inside the house.

This corner was festooned with flowers on 14th August when Scooby had a look round, then went on the prowl.

After an unusually cold August, it wasn’t until September 14th that we enjoyed afternoon tea there with Mum and Elizabeth. Note that the side gate is still fixed and covered with trellis.

The rocks around the sink, on 1st January 2015, provided useful cover for a rat attracted by the bird food.

We tried to maintain the ficus with heavy pruning, but eventually decided it had to go. I finally removed its roots on 18th September.

The next day Jackie planted up the vacant space in which pansies were blooming on 12th October.

This afternoon I printed and pasted the Gazebo Path section into the album.

Chicken thighs baked in West Indian chili sauce; special fried rice; and mange touts, cob corn, and carrots were produced by Jackie for our dinner this evening. A selection of Tesco’s cream cakes was to follow. Jackie drank Hoegaarden, and I drank Reserve des Tugets Madiran 2012.

Before And After: The Brick Path

This morning Jackie continued her winter planting, such as this hanging basket and I pruned roses.

Here are today’s offerings from the rose garden:

Laura Ford,

and the climber, Golden Showers.

Following yesterday’s post, Jackie has given the Gazebo Path its correct sign.

This afternoon Jackie drove us to New Milton for me to visit the bank and to buy a return ticket to Nottingham in readiness for my trip to Louisa and Errol and the girls on Sunday.

I then prepared the next section of the saga of the garden, namely the Brick Path.

On 15th April 2014, the cracks were full of weeds, and the urn had yet to be planted up.

By 21st, Jackie had made considerable progress in eradicating weeds on the urn circle;

and by 30th, made her way along the composite brick section.

We tackled the older, original length from opposite ends. It was then that Jackie uttered the phrase: ‘Last one to the chimney pot’s a sissy’.

Some of our visitors, such as my Mum, need sticks for walking. These original bricks had become rather uneven over the years, so we asked Aaron to reset them. On 9th August 2015, his friend Lee, the carpenter who had fitted our stair rails, made a start with him. The following week Aaron finished the task alone.

By this time, the overgrown foliage that had bordered the path on 31st May 2014 had been thinned somewhat.

Two roses and a Virginia creeper were meant to be supported by a rickety wooden structure, most of which had fallen into the undergrowth. By 14th June that year we had bought and installed a new Gothic Arch, retrained the existing climbers, and added a couple of clematises.

This was the south easterly view from this point by 28th September 2015,

by which time the path had mellowed, and an owl had taken up residence in the dead snake bark maple.

Beyond the Gothic Arch and nearer the house, Wedding Day, a huge rambling rose, romped confetti-like across the red-leaved Japanese maple and a mature hebe. It needed some special support. We provided this in the form of an Agriframes Gothic Arch, installed on 30th October 2014.

Even this is insufficient for the prolific climber. It received further heavy pruning on 2nd October 2015.

This evening we dined at the Royal China restaurant in Lymington. Taking the advice of our friendly waitress we halved our order from last time, and just about managed to finish everything. We both drank Tsingtao beer.

A Virtual Photoshoot

During a morning interlude between the rains, Jackie continued her work on the Unidentified Fir bed. Plants, including more than fifty spring bulbs were put in place; more broken tiles were dug out; and choked shrubs were freed from a rampant vinca. I did some clearing up.

I then made a virtual trip to Fremantle in Western Australia where I photographed my grandchildren. This is how it came about. At first I had been on the phone to Sam on his hands-free while he drove home. When he arrived there Malachi and Orlaith launched themselves into the car and both began shrieking at a million decibels.

Once in the house Orlaith entertained me for a while and mentioned that if we were on Skype she could show me her owl. This prompted Sam to introduce me to the joys of Facebook VideoCall. He talked me through the process, and I conversed with both children before Malachi read us all a bedtime story.

Mal was keen to show me the pictures in his book. Orlaith hampered this somewhat by thrusting the owl into the foreground.

I have been having trouble e-mailing Ray Salinger some of the photographs taken on 19th September. They have been timed out in transmission. I therefore printed some for him this afternoon.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s delicious sausage casserole, creamy mashed potatoes, and crisp carrots and cabbage. I drank Louis de Camponac cabernet sauvignon 2014, and Jackie drank Hoegaarden.

Colemanballs

Seeking to provide The Head Gardener with a pleasant surprise when she returned from an early morning trip to Ferndene Farm shop, allegedly to buy more compost, I decided to take down more of the tree which, in our gusting winds, is wrecking the red rose on the pergola outside the stable door. Jackie has been mentioning the need for this for a while now. Evidence of how windy it was today is provided by these two photographs of the same basket of petunias, taken from the same spot in rapid succession.

When we arrived in Downton last April the main trunk of the offending tree had been so torn and twisted that I had been obliged to cut off the dangling remainder. After a further year of frequent whirling winds we have noticed that this particular corner always bears the brunt, with stricken branches bending and crashing against the wisteria pergola. That is why further pruning was necessary. Still in my dressing gown, I proudly displayed my work. The Head Gardener observed that I had ‘made a start’. Unless dealing with BT, I’m not normally one for invective. I must admit to having muttered one at that. The question is often asked, ‘is there any pleasing a woman?’ It is actually very easy to please Jackie, but The Head Gardener, bless her, tends towards the exacting. She is never demanding, but, if you volunteer, you have to reckon with her desire for perfection. Two more branches had to come off.

Trudging back and forth to the pile awaiting combustion, I was able to view the rest of the garden, where

pretty pink fuchsia, Paula Jane, atop the urn, is flanked by calibrachoas and petunias;

Apple Blossom diascas, magenta geraniums, and clematis Margaret Hunt embellish the entrance to the back drive;

and, turning from that point, looking towards the rose garden, a yellow theme is provided by pansies, succulents; and the flowers of lanky cineraria, otherwise known as Dusty Miller.

Hoverflies, like this one casting its shadow on an unidentified clematis, give the photographer a fighting chance to catch them in flight;

Not so bees, which make you really work for it.

The generous Dave Fergusson, yesterday, gave Jackie a cut glass whisky barrel for just £5. It hasn’t taken her long to position it.

Wimbledon’s weather smiled on me today. Accompanying Jackie on a three hour trip to Nuffield Hospital and back, including her physiotherapy, could have meant that I didn’t see much of Andy Murray’s three set victory over Vasek Pospisil. However. Rain had disrupted the first set; I watched the rest of that and the second in the reception area; and rain caused further stoppage just as we left for home. I, therefore, was able to see the end of the match, and, far more importantly, witness a wonderful example of Colemanballs.

Derived from the surname of BBC sports presenter David Coleman, Colemanballs is a term coined by the satirical magazine, Private Eye, to describe verbal gaffes by sports commentators. Today’s was an ace, admirably returned by the tennis player.

‘Is there any more pressure because of Royal spectators? David Beckham was here today,’ without the slightest pause, asked Garry Richardson, who must have forgotten the names of the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge. ‘He isn’t a royal, is he?’ replied Murray, with a twinkle in his eye and a wide smile. Richardson responded with: ‘I’ll let you decide.’ ‘It’s great that they came along to support,’ observed Murray with immaculate diplomacy.

The next Centre Court match was between Novak Djokovic and Marin Cilic. The former won in straight sets.

For some reason best known to herself and Bruce Goodman, Jackie wishes it to go on record that some of the flowers she bought this morning, including the lavenders that she planted in the rose garden, were blue.

It will be no surprise to anyone that Jackie has also somewhat embellished the outside of her shed.

This evening we dined on flavoursome mushroom and onion omelette, and bubble and squeak topped with fried bacon. This was followed by profiteroles. Jackie drank Hoegaarden, and I finished the Teroldego Rotaliano.

Blending

Our daughter Becky is convinced that I bear a resemblance to Worzel Gummidge. As I scanned yesterday’s photograph of four year old Louisa I wondered what the wit would have to say about it. This was her Facebook observation: ‘How clever of you to include a portrait of yourself in the photo of Louisa!’

Managing a slightly brisker pace than my slow trudging of late, I walked up Hordle Lane and back, to the paddock, where a weak sun dappled horse and oak alike.

Honeysuckle blended beautifully with lichen in the hedgerows,

where pink dog roses bloomed,

and hoverflies on cow parsley masqueraded as the bees filling their thighs with the tinge of buttercups.

Through a gap in a hedge, on the far side of the barley field, a lorry, its rear resembling the buttercup, the honeysuckle, the lichen, and the bee’s thighs; its sides reflecting the blue of the sky, sped along Christchurch Road. White petals in the hedgerow carried the colour of the cotton clouds.

This afternoon, using the brick pile as a saw horse, I filled a wheelbarrow with logs cut from the last heavy branches of the sycamore tree. Then, with a break provided by a welcome visit from Shelly, I continued in the role of under-gardener. This involved the usual collecting up of the head gardener’s pruning and weeding; digging out some invasive geranium palmatums for her to transplant onto the northern verge of the back drive; and excavating two homes in the rose garden, one for Rosa Gallica, and another for Deep Secret. Rosa had shared her nursery pot with some yellow pansies. It seemed a bit churlish to make them part company, so we didn’t.

This evening Jackie’s superb egg fried rice and green beans accompanied Mr. Lidl’s plentiful spicy pork rib rack on our dinner plates. Victoria sponge was to follow. Jackie drank Hoegaarden, and I quaffed Torre de Ferro Dao 2013.

Inquisitive Chicks

Rabbits are like birds. At least in our garden they are. Jackie can watch them through the windows for ages. The minute I pick up a camera they flit or scuttle off, as did our early little bunny visitor.

As will be seen from today’s photographs, the sun popped in and out of the clouds. The morning was spent driving to and from Nuffield Hospital at Chandlers Ford, for Jackie’s pre-op tests on her left knee.

This afternoon I sprayed weed-killer on various paths and the head gardener carried out much pruning. My contribution to the latter was to gather up the cuttings and place them on burning or compost heaps.

I took a short walk to the postbox alongside the disused Telephone Box that can be seen reflected among the trees on the cars that are now regularly parked in front of it.

As our earlier poppies die down, small dahlias,

and several larger, later, varieties of poppy spring up.

Day lilies have been around for a while now.

The clematis Marie Boisselet resists being trained to climb an obelisk, and trails beneath it.

The starling parents still squawk off when we approach the kitchen corner, but their offspring do not yet appear to have learned fear.

They have become quite inquisitive. Their Mum and Dad have made rather a mess of the woodwork which reveals earlier paintwork. We do know a certain amount of refurbishment is required.

A bag of still crisp prawn crackers formed the starters for what, this evening, was a genuine fusion dinner. These were left over from the Chinese takeaway set meal for two that we had enjoyed two days ago. They always give you far more than is necessary. They also give you larger quantities of the varied dishes than you can eat. Sweet and sour chicken, crispy beef, chicken and black bean sauce, beef with ginger and spring onion, and savoury rice, therefore, filled one third of our plates; left-over mashed potato, green beans, and cauliflower from last might, occupied another; and succulent fillet steaks the third. I employed the microwave and Jackie applied the frying pan. I really should have photographed this delicious melange. Jackie drank Hoegaarden, whilst I imbibed.Casillero del Diablo cabernet sauvignon reserva 2013.

School Photos

The potentilla in the front garden is fully in bloom, as are the pansies in Jackie’s window boxes on the wall.

This morning a woodpecker took advantage of its long, sharp, beak to penetrate the suet balls suspended from the crab apple tree.

I took a walk as far as Roger’s field footpath and photographed oak apples nestling in the hedgerow. I had noticed these on a day too dull to produce a picture. It took me some time to find them again.

A.P. Maintenance completed their work on the back drive when Aaron and Robin concreted the entrance.

Today I began replacing the photographic prints Elizabeth had returned to me yesterday. The first album starts in about 1923 and runs to 1978. Before I set them back in their vacant pages I scanned them and put them into iPhoto. One theme running through was that of school photographs. The style and quality of these has changed over the years, but all bear one general characteristic. That is that if they reach home uncreased they are bound to eventually become rather gunged, and many are so badly treated that they never reach adulthood.

My paternal grandparents’ ‘Norwood School for the Sons of Gentlemen’ was small enough not to suffer the fate of other, earlier panned shots of the entire staff and pupils, where some clown would always start out on one edge of the group, and dash round the back to plant him or her self on the other side before the lens reached them, thus appearing twice for posterity.

When I was at school, the photos we proudly carried home were still group images, but now in individual classes or forms as we called them. They were still in black and white.

The form master in the first of these, taken, I think, in 1956, was Richard Milward, who features in ‘No-one Forgets A Good Teacher’; the second, in 1957, Fr Hamer S.J., on whom I focus in ‘Look At That Book’.

That 1957 class can’t be the only bunch of boys who thought it would be cool (‘though we didn’t have that use of the word then) to sign the back of the photo.

These pics, despite having spent most of their life in an album, are somewhat wrinkled.

By 1974, school photograph production was rather more sophisticated. They were now portraits in colour and came in a variety of sizes according to the parental purse. Those of Matthew and Becky have clearly been cut from sheets, probably of four copies which would be distributed among Mums and Dads and grandparents. These bear the stains of an early life partly spent clutched by sticky fingers; partly subjected to spillages one can only speculate at; and possibly twelve months beneath a fridge magnet. I took out as much muck as I could in iPhoto, but cropping was all I could do to rescue this one of Matthew, taken at Holly Mount school in Raynes Park:

Attending that same school was Becky, photographed in 1974 and 1976, when she, too, signed the back of the copy she brought to me.

Michael is also pictured in 1974, wearing the uniform of his Raynes Park school of The Sacred Heart,

and in 1977 at Islington Green school, where uniform was not required.

This evening Jackie drove us to Lymington, where we dined at Lal Quilla. We both drank Kingfisher, and shared an egg paratha. My main course was King prawn Ceylon with special fried rice. Jackie’s was an interesting new chicken dish with pilau rice.

P.S. Here is a Facebook observation from Jackie:

‘What do you mean the school pictures stay under magnets on the fridge for 12 months ?! I still have my school photo’s of Mat and Becky on the fridge here! They have travelled with me for over 30 years! Love ’em.’

and a very acute one from Becky: ‘Interesting that Paul George John Murphy has signed his name in a ring(o).’

Kind Of Blue

Aaron brought a friend to help today so he could finish by lunchtime. They sawed up the wood pile, then replanted a clump of grass roots which had been removed from the back drive some weeks ago, and, despite attempts to burn it, had refused to die. I understand that the Australian eucalyptus needs the heat of a forest fire to germinate its seeds. Maybe our grass is related to that tree.

I managed to clear a space by the side of the house for the logs to be stacked before wandering around the garden with my camera.

Focussing on our profusion of blue-hued flowers, and thinking of Giles who enjoys them, I photographed:

forget-me-nots,

periwinkles,

grape hyacinths,

violets,

celandines,

and pansies.

Whilst preparing this post I listened to what is probably the finest recording of spontaneous jazz improvisation ever made. During two sessions in 1959 Miles Davis, the legendary trumpeter, led a group including Julian ‘Cannonball’ Adderly, Paul Chambers, James Cobb, John Coltrane, Bill Evans, and Wynton Kelly, in the production of the album ‘Kind of Blue’.

Evans, in his original programme notes, writes: ‘Miles conceived these settings only hours before the recording dates and arrived with sketches which indicated to the group what was to be played. Therefore you will hear something close to pure spontaneity in these performances. The group had never played these pieces prior to the recordings and I think without exception the first complete performance of each was a “take”.’

I you don’t have access to a copy, try it on YouTube.

This afternoon Flo continued her wildlife garden photography.

Unaware of my blue theme, she featured a bee on pulmonaria.

She also captured a white butterfly on the wing,

a tightrope-walking long-tailed tit,

a greenfinch on a feeding tray,

and a resting hoverfly.

She even threw in a shot of Norman’s parrot, which now hangs in our kitchen.

Finally, she persuaded Eric to pose for his portrait.

This evening we dined out on Ian.

Not literally. He just paid for it. He took us on a visit to La Viña in Lymington. It was a most enjoyable tapas bar. The food was excellent and the service extremely friendly if a little tardy. I can’t really detail the dishes because they were in Spanish, but they included a mixed paella, calamari, sardines, chorizo, asparagus, fried potatoes, meat balls and tortilla. Jackie and Ian drank Estrella beer; Becky and I shared a bottle of tempranillo; and Flo drank apple juice.

A Time Check

We all like a camomile lawn. In the right place. What is not so attractive is an onion lawn in the wrong place. Jackie has been working her way along our paths eradicating smelly alliums self-seeded and creating such a carpet. With their heady aroma permeating my nostrils, I took a hoe to a section this morning, without the aid of my stick. The bulbs didn’t all emerge, but I wasn’t about to get down on my knees to dig them out. I took a short break to photograph the delicate pastel shades of the peeling eucalyptus bark. The wheels were generously left behind by the previous owners.

Peering through the shrubbery, I admired Becky and Ian’s Christmas clock on the wall of the house.

Unaware that a blue tit behind it was making a beeline for the feeder, a robin popped down to check the time.

On the side wall outside the kitchen the leaden Lucille Scott hat bought at The First Gallery now sprouts pansies.

Slight constipation is one of the side effects of Co-codamol. When she returned from shopping Jackie brought back something she thought might relieve it. My friend John should approve of the brand.

Answering an advertisement in Streetlife, Jackie drove us to the donor of 725 small paving blocks which should be just the job for our rose garden. Most of the concrete and bricks dug out of the former kitchen garden have been used elsewhere. I then confirmed with Aaron that he could transport them in his van tomorrow.

This evening Jackie fed us on roast gammon, piquant cauliflower cheese (recipe), and crisp carrots and green beans followed by Aunt Bessie’s rhubarb crumble and custard. She (Jackie, not Aunt Bessie) drank sparkling water, and I finished the Chateauneuf-du-Pape.