pansies – Page 9 – derrickjknight

Further Fox Activity?

Not having quite enough time this morning to reach the Lyndhurst surgery on foot, I set off three quarters of an hour ahead of Jackie, who followed and collected me as I walked past Sinefield on Forest Road. She delivered me to the doc’s in good time.

My appointment with Professor Lyon-Maris was to check on the success or otherwise of his freezing the wart off my face. This man is not my own GP, whose name I can’t remember anyway, but when keeping an appointment with him I have to be careful not to ask for the popular variety of potato, good for mashing, I believe, Maris Piper. He is, however, the wart expert. Well, I suppose someone has to be. What happened today was I was first of all seen by a medical student who confirmed that there was no sign of the former offending parasite. I asked him to have a look at what I think is something similar on the back of my left shoulder. He wondered whether it appeared the same as the other one. A reasonable thought, but I had to say I couldn’t see behind my left shoulder and I hadn’t thought of using a mirror. In truth I was unaware of it unless my hand happened to stray in its direction; and it was completely painless except when I tried to pick it off and it tended to bleed a little and feel a bit like a pinprick. It is easier to dig out a dandelion.

Michael, my friendly student, then had to report to the Prof and present his findings. The poor chap had to do this in front of me. He stood up quite well to the third degree. My blind diagnosis was the correct one, and an appointment was made for the freezer.

We went on to The Firs where we continued the gardening tasks begun two days ago. I emptied the oldest compost bin and spread the contents over beds weeded by Jackie and Elizabeth. Buried deep in the last of the rich earthy material produced in the last two years was a cooked, boneless, joint of pork, as fresh and odourless as if it had been kept in cold storage for the winter. Speculating about the likelihood of a nocturnal raid on a farmhouse kitchen; a journey to The Firs similar to the one taken with golf balls; the soft mouth of a cat carrying a kitten; and a digging party clambering over the walls of the bin, we came to the conclusion that this was evidence of further fox activity.

The newest bin was rather overflowing after the addition of Sunday’s grass cuttings. I therefore siphoned off some of them to begin this year’s heap. Already there was considerable heat emanating from them.

We worked in comparative silence after the buzz of the first Saturday afternoon conducive to tipping out the populace from the warmth of their homes. Today it was just us and the birds. There must have been some other small creatures about, for a buzzard circled overhead, occasionally gliding on the thermals. There is always a biplane threading its way across the sky. Blackbirds were gathering nest building materials. A wood pigeon blended in well with an old wooden beehive. Others gathered pickings from the recently spread compost. The difference in flight of these two avian species I find fascinating. The pigeon lumbers off with ungainly flapping, often looking as if it won’t make it to its perch. The blackbird swoops with curving elegance and much more economy of movement, venturing no higher than its chosen target, and giving the appearance of hedge-hopping.

My final task today was trimming the edges of the remaining flower beds and further embedding edging tiles laid in place by Jackie last autumn.

Tonight’s meal, back at home, was Jackie’s delicious roast pork looking so like the contents of the foxes’ winter larder that I was tempted to ring Elizabeth and ask her to check the compost heap. I thought, however, that probably wouldn’t demonstrate much appreciation of the chef’s efforts. The second course was an excellent Aldi plum pie. With this, I finished the Carta Roja and Jackie drank Hoegaarden.

Back To Work Tomorrow

Jackie’s bedroom seedlings of nasturtiums and marigolds have woken up to the season and are springing forth.

We drove to The Firs, calling in first at the Village Shop to deposit dry cleaning; the bottle bank near Minstead Hall; then on to Lyndhurst to post a couple of parcels and visit the NatWest Bank to transfer some money to the Barclays account in France. It is a reality of village life that no longer can we pop across the road, as in London, to satisfy our every whim. But who cares?

Even the trip to Elizabeth’s was dual purpose. The Firs has been my business address for some years now, so I needed to collect my post. The main reason, however, was to survey the garden and make a start on this year’s work therein. We were delighted to see how much the plants have benefitted from the composting of the last two years, and in particular how the new beds now look established.

The winter has been so wet, so cold, and so long, that Elizabeth was only able to begin weeding last Sunday. That is therefore a priority, after the cutting of the grass, composting, and a bit of refurbishment to one of the bins I made last summer. When contemplating setting out on a long and daunting task it is always a satisfactory delaying tactic to make a list and start mañana. So we had lunch with my sister, made lists in our heads, and arranged to return tomorrow. Well, at least a commitment has been made.

Fritillaria meleagris is one of the many bulbs planted in the autumn, hoping they would come up in the spring. They have, as have tete-a-tete and other daffodils, such as white narcissi; muscari; numerous hellebores; self-seeded primulas; and a variety of pansies, notably those surrounding the bird bath. Many other flowers, in the beds and in various containers, have survived, and we are able to imagine how everything will look when it is all tidied up. But before that we must get back to work tomorrow.

A further very good reason, I convinced myself, for not making a start today, was that I needed to complete the paperwork for my accountant, and get a cheque off to EDF in France to cover the estimated electricity bill for rue Saint Jacques, since it has been sitting in The Firs whilst I was in France, and gone past the settle before date. We therefore had to go back home so that I could do that. And I did.

Further wildlife, in the form of two boys playing football on the lawn; and a young girl building a den in the far corner behind the rhododendrons, has emerged to enjoy the better weather.

This evening we enjoyed a meal of Aldi oven fish and chips, mushy peas, and gherkins.

A Fernery

First thing this morning I watched savage nature in action. The early sun glinted on a side-lit spider’s web, displaying the splendid shape of this wonderfully crafted construction. A child’s chalk drawing of an airplane streaked across the clear sky above. A bright blue fly darted straight into the unwound skein. In a fraction of a second, a spider emerged from a corner and was on the fly. Quick as a flash, I was upstairs in search of my camera. Quick as I was, on my return the spider had already wrapped up its prey which now looked like a ball of grey wool almost as large as itself. My attempt at securing a photograph was rushed, and consequently out of focus. During the brief moment it had taken me to ascertain this, arachnid and prey had disappeared. I could not locate them in the foliage. After a great deal of persistence I spied the predator so well camouflaged against a dying leaf as to be well-nigh invisible.

I found another golf ball on the lawn. This set me wondering whether to emulate Winchester City Mill. They have a web-cam carrying out an otter watch. Otters can then be filmed whenever they investigate the millstream. If we set up a web-cam we could satisfy ourselves as to the identity of the phantom supplier (see 8th. September post).

After lunch the three of us visited Arturi’s garden centre to buy some ferns for a new bed Jackie has created. She and I drove Elizabeth back to The Firs and shopped at Hillier’s for snowdrops, narcissi, and grape hyacinth bulbs; pansies; and all-purpose compost. I then finished mowing the lawns I had begun this morning, and Jackie planted up her fernery. This fills a very shady corner bearing compacted soil covering massed tree roots. Our head gardener has created a decorative container for shade-loving plants by encircling a nutritious mix with the sawn up sections of the acacia which fell down during the May storms (see 26th. May). The mix consists of a layer of pond weed extracted a year ago which has produced wonderful compost; then seaweed enhanced plant growth stimulant; next a layer of bracken, and finally multi-purpose, composts. The centrepiece is a garden ornament known by us as ‘The Three Graces’, which had previously stood at the edge of the front lawn.

For our evening meal Jackie produced fillet steak with which she drank Hoegaarden and Elizabeth and I Roc des Chevaliers Brodeaux 2010.

A Long Drop

Raindrops on blade of grass 8.12

This was a dreary day, covered in cloud and drizzling. ¬†However, we were able to continue in the garden; Jackie with her general maintenance, and I making further inroads into the ivy-clad corner. ¬†A framed nursery bed is to be returned to grass. ¬†I had removed the frame in readiness for creating the scented bed. ¬†Jackie dug and sifted the soil so it is ready for seeding. ¬†She also weeded and potted up some plants which require a certain amount of thought for their final resting place to be determined. ¬†The head gardener, Jackie, and the lady of the manor, Elizabeth had both bought carloads of plants this week. ¬†I had never thought we could run out of available space. ¬†Until now.

Over lunch we discussed, among other subjects, plant varieties and boundaries between properties. ¬†The subject of plant names came up because I had misinformed Michael Watts as to the identity of the Leycesteria photographed for yesterday’s post. ¬†I confused it with Abutilon, which we don’t have. ¬†Michael, the qualities I described do apply to the Leycesteria, but the Abutilon is not hardy. ¬†Hopefully this will demonstrate that I am definitely the under-gardener in this partnership. ¬†It was natural, given that we were eating an unusual variety of cucumber, that our expert was able to tell us that there is one called ‘Burpless’. ¬†I thought that did bear repeating.

In retrospect, the boundary issue was a little more alarming. ¬†Potentially. ¬†Apparently Richard Barbe-Baker (see 26th. May), when splitting up his land for sale, ensured that the neighbours on all sides would be responsible for fences, wall, hedges, and the like. ¬†This caused a minor dispute when one set of neighbours wanted to replace the laurel hedge which I had been attacking all morning. ¬†Whoever is responsible for the fixture dividing properties, the people on the other side must agree to the nature and materials of what is proposed. ¬†Elizabeth and Rob did not want their wonderful, well-established, hedge replaced by a fence. ¬†Perhaps having been unaware that I had been tugging away at thick stems of ivy entwined around that very laurel, Elizabeth casually remarked, in passing, that there was a sheer drop the other side. ¬†I was a little less vigorous in the afternoon. ¬†The neighbouring houses, you see, were built in a disused gravel pit.

Something similar pertained at Lindum House in Newark. ¬†Our garden ran along the side of the back gardens of Wellington Road. ¬†Ours was on a higher level than the others. ¬†There was therefore a similar drop on the other side. ¬†Against the wall between us and No. 10 Wellington Road, on their side, was a small ladder. ¬†This had been placed to enable the small boy who lived there to hop over and play with our previous owners’ dog. ¬†When we took up residence we left the ladder so the lad could nip across and play with Sam and Louisa. ¬†Paddy, our dog, when she arrived into our household, and when the little boy had made way for two other canines, took to leaping from our side into the new neighbour’s garden, relishing the opportunity to frolic with her own kind. ¬†Being, until she ruptured her stifle chasing a hare, a nimble creature,¬†she would scale the ladder back to us when she’d had enough. ¬†Unfortunately the ladder eventually disintegrated. ¬†This meant the owner of her playmates had to lift her up to the level of our wall. ¬†This was all right when he was at home. ¬†When he wasn’t she would have to call for assistance from our side. ¬†Which might take some time.

Danni and Andy joined us this afternoon and stayed on for Jackie’s evening meal. ¬†This was a very tasty Shepherd’s Pie, which, among other ingredients, contained mushrooms. Jackie drank her usual Hoegaarden, Andy orange juice,and the rest of us, assorted red wines. ¬†As usual at The Firs, this was followed by the eponymous mess. ¬†This consists of applying whatever is available to the bed of a merangue, and crunching it all up.