path – Page 3 – derrickjknight

The Wedding Factory

Although the temperature has, consequently, dropped a few degrees we are in the midst of a few days of cloudless blue skies, even at midday sending long shadows across the garden, for example the brick path, sporting a fresh set of weeds.

Camellias,

hebes.

and pansies do not flinch at the lower temperature.

This afternoon Jackie and I drove to The Firs in West End to join Danni, Andy, and Elizabeth in making adornments for the young people’s wedding in May.

160 strips of hessian have to be cut, sealed, and prepared for tying.

Jackie’s task was to cut ribbons and wrap them around serviettes containing cutlery.

The rest of us prepared the fabric strips.

Danni had an aide-memoire of the room size on the back of her hand;

Elizabeth demonstrated a certain amount of gentility with her little finger;

Jackie’s digits gave out a somewhat different message.

When we ran out of ribbon, Jackie and I went off to Hobbycraft to buy some more. As we disembarked back at The Firs, I asked my lady if she had the purchase. She replied that I had it……………….

We did an about turn and returned to the store where I recovered our little bag of goodies from the counter.

After this we all dined at Eastern Nights in Thornhill where we had a thoroughly enjoyable evening.

Before And After: The Heligan Path

On our third morning in Downton, as, in order to pick spring flowers, Jackie walked through the undergrowth onto what is now the Weeping Birch Bed, little did we know that a few inches to her right we would find the remnants of a very old path. In the distance, above her head, can be seen the collapsed wooden arch that we replaced with a metal one.

This is the subject of today’s before and after section, which I began after pasting a few more prints into the album.

Can you see the path? On 21st May 2014, the tree peony was growing on the edge of it.

By the end of the day the serpentine track was beginning to emerge.

Further progress was made on 22nd. Note the mosquito-breeding sunken wheelbarrow pond that has been removed by 20th October 2015.

At one time this path contained gravel. By 25th, Jackie was painstakingly riddling a little out of the soil, and we bought bags more to top it up.

It was in a fit condition for Sheila to be guided along it on 9th August,

and quite established by 20th October 2015.

This afternoon I watched the televised semi-final of the Rugby World Cup between New Zealand and South Africa.

This evening we dined on smoked haddock, with Jackie’s superb piquant cauliflower cheese (recipe), carrots, cabbage, mange touts, and mashed potato and swede; followed by deep apple pie with just the right amount of cinnamon and cloves, and custard. I drank Doom Bar and The Cook drank Hoegaarden.

Before And After: The Gazebo Path

One of the more urgent tasks when we first arrived at Old Post House was cutting the grass. This was carried out on 16th May 2014.

Beyond the eucalyptus runs the main central gravel path from the urn circle to five ways. We have created some confusion in the title applied to this thoroughfare. In my posts and on Jackie’s label we call it the Pergola Path. On the Head Gardener’s map it is termed the Gazebo Path. This is the more accurate name, since it is spanned by a gazebo, not a pergola.

In today’s section of the before and after story, we will revert to Gazebo.

We needed to weed and rake the gravel and reset some of the edging. This is how far we had come by 2nd June. The Chilean Lantern Plant to the left needed considerable pruning to enable safe passage along the path.

On 3rd June Jackie reset the iron wheels bordering the grass patch.

By 22nd June the task was complete.

Jessica and Imogen explored the path on 1st November.

Later, they set off down it in search of pumpkins which they carried back to the house.

Here is the view on 7th September 2015.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s glorious lamb jalfrezi and perfect pilau rice, followed by lemon mousse. We both drank Kingfisher.

Before And After: The Weeping Birch Bed

Aaron came to work this morning. He took out the last remaining tree stump from the lawn; cleaned the pipes and windows at the front of the house; and reset the post at the side gate which had come adrift.

The Virginia Creeper mingling with rose hips on the Gothic Arch, with the yellowing birch leaves in the background, are still about the only climatic signs of autumn.

I did further work on the album of progress in the garden, making the following prints:

On 12th June 2014 the Weeping Birch Bed was somewhat overgrown. Note the bramble.

The next day, I began assembling the golden arches in an attempt to support passion flower and honeysuckle.

By September 2015 it was clear something had to be done about it, so Jackie set to.

This is what it looks like today. Note the three separate supports which have replaced the golden arches. This is because the two rambling plants mentioned above actually originated further into the bed. As now expected, there was much rock and concrete buried therein, and Jackie discovered that a good half of the bed was very shallow, having been laid on the concrete that covered the far south of the garden. As usual this has been recycled as stepping stones and edging.

This up to date view takes us across the Heligan Path and through the Cryptomeria Bed towards the house.

As the light faded whilst we sat in the rose garden with our pre-dinner drinks, the mosquitos probably attracted the bats flitting across our vision. This was an opportunity for me to tell Jackie the story of the pipistrelles.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s delicious chicken jalfrezi, special fried rice, and naan from the Co-op, followed by egg custard. Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank Parra Alta malbec 2015.

Hues Of Blue

On this day, with temperatures around 30 degrees, according to the meteorologists, because of a shift in the jet stream, we are enjoying ‘Spanish weather’.

In case any of my commenters have missed Becky’s observation on yesterday’s post, this is what she added to it this morning: ‘Wow. What lovely followers you have, Dad. x’

A small red rose standing in a tub by our front door, and requiring more space, will eventually be transplanted to the rose garden. Taking her first outing since her knee operation, Jackie drove me to the surgery at Milford on Sea, for me to hand in a repeat prescription request. We met Giles in the car park, and had a short conversation. Feeling confident enough to return home without an escort, my chauffeuse, dropped me near the Beach House hotel, and I walked back by the cliff top/Shorefield route. Whilst I was enjoying myself, Jackie continued to Tesco’s for a shop, and watered the hanging baskets on her return, thus saving me that latter task.

Thistles and convolvulus twinkled in the hedgerows.

Sunlight glistened on The Solent’s various hues of blue,

its passing vessels, and their wake.

You would need to wander down this cliff path to encounter the dog this woman was walking by the breakwater.

I am not really up to descending to the water’s edge, so was unable to warn the fairly numerous swimmers risking a skewering by the WW2 hazards.

Elsewhere sun-tans were sought.

By late afternoon, many of the baskets needed a further soaking. I rendered minimal assistance with this.

A hoverfly, sheltered by a higher bloom in full sun, flanked by budding guards, investigated the flower of clematis Comtesse de Bouchard.

This evening we dined on fillet steak on a bed of onions, garlic, peppers, and mushrooms; chips; and runner beans; followed by mixed fruit crumble and custard. Jackie drank Hoegaarden, whilst I imbibed Louis de Camponac cabernet sauvignon 2014.

An Opened Garden

Yesterday Jackie carried out some further heavy pruning and clearance in the shrubbery at the front of the house. This meant that before I could continue with the path, I needed to cart several barrow loads of branches and dead plants to the far end of the garden. Well, she is the head gardener, and I did have the dubious bonus of returning each trip with a quantity of stone for the edging recycled from the soon-to-be rose garden.

After this, admittedly rather painfully, given that the knee didn’t really appreciate what it had been expected to do, I wandered around the garden listening to the music of the birds. The tits enjoyed the feeder, and the pheasant, until sent off squawking by my presence, strutted around, returning to be photographed later through the kitchen window. You may need to zoom on the second image here in order to spot this visitor..

Comfrey, leucojum, and elephants’ ears are now vying for space with all the other spring flowers.

I felt very satisfied that the garden we had spent all last summer opening up is really coming into its own.

The bench on the shady path, so called because at first it admitted no sunlight, was suitably inviting.

Plants, like these pansies and daffodils, in the chimney pots are blooming.

This particular pot is situated at five ways, which takes its name from the number of paths that radiate from it. The prunus in the foreground has recovered from severe pruning. We don’t know what the magnificent evergreen is.

The Heligan path, named after The Lost Gardens of Heligan, because we didn’t know it was there, runs alongside the weeping beech. The log pile continues to grow, and the IKEA wardrobe sections keep triffids from next door at bay.

The bed we cleared on the other side of the tree is burgeoning.

The bed head behind the chair in this picture was screwed to the tree, and can be seen from the side in the Heligan path shot.

We have cut down much of the euphorbia which covered the garden but left some, such as that which shrouds this camellia, to bloom later..

The camellia flowers themselves, as they fall, adorn the paths and the soil where they lie.

Almost all the cyclamens have survived the gentle winter.

Later this afternoon I had a bonfire.

I am happy to report that we still had plenty of Jackie’s delicious chicken jalfrezi and fresh savoury rice for our dinner this evening. They were accompanied by paratas and Hoegaarden for Jackie, and the last of the claret for me.

Hoisted By My Own Petard

This morning, whilst Jackie continued with her planting, tidying, and extensive garden maintenance, I carried out some more work on refining the gravel path in the front garden. This involved marking out a line, digging up and either moving or rejecting stray plants, and replacing some rocks and concrete that line the side nearest the house. Some of the hellebores were so interested in my activities that their normally shy flowers actually raised their heads. These can be seen my clicking on the image above.

‘A Suitable Boy’, Vikram Seth’s novel, a magnificent saga of an Indian family, came up in conversation recently. Although not normally a name-dropper, I just had to mention that I had received a very complimentary letter from the author a dozen years ago. In ‘The Listener Setters’ Dinner’ I describe how this came about.

The Times Listener Crosswords were ones that I enjoyed setting during a period of about twenty years. They are termed ‘advanced cryptics’ as they are very difficult both to create and to solve. The clue solving was often the easy part, as there is always a final twist that requires further thought and activity. One of my devices was to involve solvers in producing a drawing at the end. Four-Letter Word was one of these that earned the praise of Mr Seth.

Thinking it might be fun to present this to my WordPress readers, I consulted my albums of published puzzles. Because of the nature of this work, I was required to solve the entry method. I couldn’t do it without a struggle that took me quite a long time. Well, it was as long ago as 12th October 2002 that it appeared in the newspaper. The solution, published on 2nd November, for reasons that will become apparent, didn’t have much printed in the grid. Thus, I was hoisted by my own petard.

I am fully aware that most of my readers will not be familiar with cryptic crosswords, so I will not bother you with the clues. It is the theme I would like to offer.

The drawing I wanted to create needed flowing curves. How on earth was I to manage this on a typical square grid? It was after six months thought that I hit upon the idea of using hexagons in a honeycomb. That particular device was not original, but I like to think the use to which I put it was.

Focussing on the preamble and the grid, and ignoring the clue column, this is what solvers were presented with:

The preamble is the paragraph on the left beneath the title. It explains what is required in addition to solving the clues. The grid is where the answers are written.

Examples of entries given in the above illustration are 30 REGRET, 31 RIPPLE, and 32 PENNON.

Once the whole grid has been completed and the correct sequence of letters blocked in, an outline that could be a cat is produced. I have used a highlighter to make it stand out. The initial letters of the 8 letter answers, in clue order, spell out CHESHIRE, helping to identify Lewis Carroll’s character. For clarity I have not confused the issue with a fully completed grid.

With a little artist’s licence, solvers will have reproduced a suggestion of Sir John Tenniel’s famous illustration to Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.

In that story, the creature disappears leaving its GRIN. Thus, according to the preamble’s instructions, solvers, having used a pencil, are to rub out everything but the four-letter word appearing above hexagon 38. This location is shown in the entry examples given above.

This evening, for our dinner, Jackie’s delicious chicken jalfrezi and egg fried rice was supplemented by the contents of a doggy bag provided by Lal Quilla last night. We were grateful that Elizabeth hadn’t been able to finish the chef’s special that she had enjoyed. So did we.

The Secret Garden Gate

The clerodendrum trichotomum now wears its autumn colours.

Encouraged by our weekend’s progress on the back drive we decided to clear the other side today. Since most of this runs alongside the back of the unoccupied garden, it is a different prospect – more a question of determining which shrubs are ours and which our neighbours’. We are intent on clipping back rather than taking out. Except for where we started. This was the area behind our compost heap. It is a small inset corner that was completely overgrown, largely with brambles, to the height of the ornamental grass which is all that we have retained. That is as far as we got this morning. Once we had taken out the greenery, we had to remove possibly decades of rubbish that lay beneath the foliage.

The major discovery was a secret garden gate leading into the jungle plot. A thick electric cable still adheres to the post. Beyond the fence stand rows of bins and buckets full of rancid water that Jackie is convinced is the source of the mosquitos which plague us. We have both been covered in bites since I returned from France. Having cut her way through the foliage she entered the other garden and skilfully tipped out the foul-smelling liquid without bespattering herself. That should get rid of some of the larvae, although the adults are still plentiful. We also know there is a stagnant pond that Jackie has already done her best to clear. There may, of course, be far more incubators hidden away.

It was when I found evidence of at least a path leading to the gate that I decided to take a break. After all, as you may have suspected, I only took on this task to avoid digging up more slabs in the former kitchen garden.

After lunch Jackie drove me to the bank at New Milton and back. I then walked down to Shorefield post box. With his usual avian entourage Roger Cobb was ploughing his upper field.

When I returned home we continued our work in the garden. Further clearance of the area around the garden gate involved transporting wonderful compost to other parts of the garden. Much of this matter had been stored in plastic bags which were piled up and had, themselves, reached such a level of decomposition to have become virtually shredded. Separating these from the soil was a painstaking task. By the time this was mostly removed, I hope I had unearthed the path to the little gate. But I have learned the hard way that you never know what you might find down there. Even though they would obviously be easier than the kitchen garden concrete, no way am I digging this lot up. Maybe we will one day learn the history of this erstwhile point of access.

For dinner this evening we enjoyed smoked gammon, cauliflower cheese, chips, and baked beans, followed by egg custard. Jackie drank Hoegaarden, and I opened a bottle of Castillo San Lorenzo rioja reserva 2009, and drank some of it.

A Deterrent

6.9.14

This morning, taking a diversion along the footpath through the maize fields to check out yesterday’s erroneous interpretation of the demise of the crow, I walked down to the spa shop and back. A family, having emerged from the shop, traversed the zebra crossing and continued down the steep footpath through the rookery to the holiday homes beyond.

The crow had not, as I naively thought, ensnared itself. I now decided it had probably been shot and strung up as a deterrent to others who were probably sampling the maize crop.

In the garden, Jackie continued her autumn clear up, being scarily severe in her pruning. She also found time to realign some of the stone and brick borders to footpaths, whilst I made quite a bit of progress in digging up concrete and brick paving in the former kitchen garden, and adding to its growing pile.

Is this a variant of the red hot poker that we now see blooming?

This evening’s dinner consisted of plump, lean, Ferndene Farm pork sausages, boiled potatoes, carrots, cauliflower, and baked beans. I finished the Reserve des Tuguets, and Jackie abstained.

After this, I began reading ‘The Bhagavad Gita’.

A Rose For Retirement

Early this morning Jackie resumed a task she had first undertaken more than forty years ago. She cut my hair, thus putting Donna-Marie out of business. Its colour was rather different first time round. The dark bit must be a trick of the light.
After this I placed the beach stones between the slabs in yesterday’s path. There were still not quite enough, and they put those found in the garden somewhat into the shade, so we will probably need a few more, even after I picked up some interesting pieces of flint on my later walk, and inserted them in place on my return.
During a break, Jackie has managed to identify two of the plants that had us beaten. The first is the white flower, libertia, depicted on 28th April; the second had been identified by Tess, but we couldn’t remember the name of the hebe salicifolia koromiko. Like our daughter in law, and so many of our garden treasures, these are both natives of New Zealand.
The day’s major joint task was to start on clearing the kitchen garden in preparation for its transformation into a rose bower. Largely hidden beneath the greenery lie treacherously uneven criss-crossing paths in all sorts of material, mostly brick, stone, and concrete, covering ancient layers of gravel. Any speculation about the evolution of this ankle-twisting surface would be fruitless. This, we have decided, will be the one area where we abandon what we find previously laid down, level it all off, and start from scratch with a sheet of squared paper.
I have begun piling up the paving, apart from the concrete slabs Jackie has snaffled to build a wall with which to restrain the compost.
Jackie has planted up what was the rather barren shady bed opposite the pale blue Ace Reclaim bench. The red rose in the container beneath the Gardman arch was given to her by her work colleagues when she retired from Merton Social Services Department two years ago. It has survived several moves, including overwintering at Shelly and Ron’s.
Later this afternoon, I walked down to Shorefield stream and back. The field opposite the entrance to the Country Park has a fine crop of mare’s tails. The New Forest Tour bus stops at the zebra crossing leading down to the chalets beyond the stream.
I had been hoping to photograph some coots today, but there were none in evidence. I did, however, watch a pigeon doing a high-wire act, and a male small tortoiseshell butterfly sunning itself on a buddleia. Our butterflies, like this male Red Admiral prefer basking on our paving stones to perching on our version of that plant.
We dined on refreshing salad again this evening, followed by strawberries and evap (for the uninitiated this is a family term for evaporated milk) on a bed of Tesco’s raspberry twirl cheesecake. The cheesecake was reduced in price because it was pushing its sell-by date; the evap was reduced in fat content, because it is less likely to fatten the consumer. I drank more of the French cotes du Rhone and Jackie her Belgian beer (Hoegaarden in case you’ve forgotten).