paths – Page 14 – derrickjknight

The Dump Can Wait

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Much of today was spent planting roses, tidying beds, and pruning and lopping trees and overgrown shrubs.

I cleared up Jackie’s maple cuttings from yesterday, then concentrated on the myrtle behind the Compassion rose. Both these trees were depriving the rose of light and air, and the variegated myrtle was full of sports anyway.

Garden view from Fiveways to Compassion rose arch

The arch, as seen from the bench on the Dead End Path and from the distance of Fiveways, now awaits the retrained rose. The young leaves of the copper beech, the last to arrive, can be seen to the top left of the first picture.

Looking through the Agriframes Arch from the Dead End Path, one can see that the yellow bottle brush plant and

the Chilean lantern tree are both coming into bloom.

Elsewhere, Sweet Williams and Cerinthes romp ahead of the fuchsia beneath them.

Bright marigolds attract flies like the one in this image.

The viburnum Rhytidophyllum, with its delicate scent, creamy white clustered flowers, and crinkly leaves, is enjoying its best year since the surrounding jungle was opened up.

Gloriana, Crown Princess Margarete, and Jacqueline du Pré have all put in an appearance in the Rose Garden.

I chopped up all the tree branches and filled two orange bags with them. We had intended taking them to Efford Recycling Centre, but we ran out of steam and decided that the dump could wait.

This evening we dined on meals from New Forest Tandoori takeaway in Pennington. We both enjoyed prawn puri starters. My main course was king prawn naga with special fried rice; Jackie’s was chicken buna with fragrant pilau rice. Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank Patrick Chodot Fleurie 2014.

Message In A Bottle?

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This morning I tidied up the Head Gardener’s Walk. It was becoming a little overgrown.

This was the result.

Apart from a brief spell of sunshine when I was carrying out this task, today was very dull and overcast. It was not the afternoon to go in search of a field of bluebells – especially as we didn’t find it.

We understood that it was part of Ballard Water Meadow and Woodland.

So dry has been our month of April, that the streams that cross the area are all but dried up.

Conservation has been in progress for some years. A footpath, logging, and cutting back of undergrowth beside the main ditch provide evidence of industry.

A handful of small black cattle sat around chewing the cud as I left Jackie sitting on a bench and went off on a bluebell hunt. The beasts contributed plentiful pats as their contribution to the ecology.

The cows quietly tolerated the flies crawling around their eyes.

Many dog walkers availed themselves of the pet-emptying facility.

I continued in search of the elusive bluebell field, and settled for the odd clump of the English variety – not the Spanish Armada.

I reached a man-made lake with its share of water fowl and reflections of nearby buildings.

Unfortunately there was a smattering of litter in the surrounding woodland,

and in the lake itself.

The Maltesers container lay at the edge. A couple of bottles stood up in the water. Was there a message in this?

On my return the cattle had risen to their feet and started foraging.

This evening we dined at The Crown Inn at Everton. I chose well-filled steak and kidney pudding with carrots and swede wrapped in a cabbage leaf, chips and gravy. Jackie chose duck with noodles, stir-fry vegetables and hoisin sauce. Desserts were respectively bread and butter pudding with pomegranate seeds floating in creme Anglaise, and sticky toffee pudding with vanilla ice cream. Jackie drank draught Becks, and I began with a glass of Brown Brothers Everton Red, which was accurately described as having the flavours of the hedgerow. My second glass was the well-tried Mendoza Argentinian Malbec.

April In May

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Today our April showers began. This morning Jackie continued her planting, weeding, and tidying; while I dug out a bank of sycamore seedlings dropped onto the Back Drive borders by a tree in the garden of the vacant North Breeze next door, and a large bramble from the Rose Garden.

In the variable light numerous plants like

tiny saxifrages,

various tulips,

honesty petals and seed cases,

rhododendrons,

lilies,

and little lamiums sparkled with raindrops.

Others, including libertias,

geranium Phaeums,

clematis Montanas,

another rhododendron,

and the wisteria, were too sheltered to catch the rain.

Jackie with wisteria through kitchen window

The wisteria brightens Jackie’s view from the kitchen window,

in front of which hangs Pauline’s beautifully faceted light catcher.

Garden view with rear of Florence sculpture

The sun came and went above the garden paths, three views of which include the Florence sculpture;

and a fourth, the Brick Path.

This afternoon we drove around the forest.

Up on the moors we could watch the rainclouds sending down shafts of their precipitation, in darker indigo slashes, whilst the sun picked out the glowing gorse.

I waited a while for the sun to pierce the cloud cover and play with this scene of stepped tree roots ascending a gravelly slope.

Brooding clouds, sunlight, gorse, and thatched roofs provided a dramatic entrance to Frogham,

beyond which we spotted our first pony foal of the season, its mother providing instruction in planting yourself firmly on the road. Notice its nice new shoes.

Between Godshill and Cadnam, alongside Roger Penny Way, another, adventurous, new baby kicked up its heels and rushed back to its mother on my approach, then continued to explore the terrain at a safe distance.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s luscious liver, bacon, and sausage casserole, new potatoes, carrots, and cauliflower, followed by custard tart. She drank Peroni and I drank more of the Madiran.

Canine Paralympics

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Today’s most recently bloomed clematis climbs over the arch spanning the Shady Path.

This afternoon Jackie drove me out to the forest.

Strong sunlight cast long or dappled shadows across the freshly resurfaced Holmsley Passage,

and warmed the wayside woodland.

A disabled dog eagerly propelled its tailored cart, clearly training for the canine Paralympics.

Bees had taken up residence in the modern house, alongside its dead wisteria, beside the

footpath that was once a railway line, now a route for walkers and cyclists.

It being the start of the grockle season, many others kept to the roads.

On Charles Lane outside Burley, Jackie needed to stop the car beside a passing area, so three riders could squeeze their horses past us. The last one waved their thanks and they cantered on their way.

This house, in an imposing position on a bend, looked pretty in pink.

The story of MacPenny’s garden nursery is told in my post ‘Cock Of The Walk’, of 3rd June 2013. This was our next destination.

Masses of rows of flowers, shrubs, and trees are for sale in the huge nursery area,

where pots, compost, and other materials are also available in profusion.

But it was the mature, stunning, NGS Garden, with its wonderful display of rhododendrons and azaleas that we came for today.

We also liked the candelabra primulas.

This evening the four of us dined on Jackie’s sublime sausage casserole, caramelised sweet potato, creamy mashed potato, crunchy carrots, and spring greens. Ian drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Bordeaux.

Morning Light

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On Sunday mornings when Aaron is due to come, I nip down to the five-barred gate at the end of the back drive to open it so he can drive his vehicle in.

This morning there was no nipping, because I was bewitched by the light.

Our treasured help performed a variety of tasks today. He painted metal chairs, mended a wooden one that had been smashed by the autumn winds, and weeded more paths.

This afternoon we are visiting The First Gallery, visiting my mother, and going out for a meal with Elizabeth in the evening. It may be that we take Mum with us for the meal. The reason for this is that her domiciliary care has, like everyone else’s, been privatised. This means that it is undertaken by contracted firms whose main object is to make money. The result is rushed and unreliable schedules subject to inconvenient alterations, with or without a warning telephone call.

Mum needs help to get up and shower and to settle herself down for bed. Elizabeth does most other things for her. Today she was informed that the morning visit would be late and the evening early. This could mean starting well after 10 a.m. and finishing well before 6 p.m. In the circumstances Mum cancelled the evening call, so we will come into play. I will report on this tomorrow.

Those who are unaware of the welfare systems here may not know that we have no choice but to have National Insurance contributions deducted from our earnings, and that Local Authorities can keep none of the promises about receiving care free of charge ‘at the point of service’ ‘from the cradle to the grave’. Jackie’s Social Work colleagues from abroad had to have her explain to them why it was that elderly people wondered why they had to pay for these inadequate services. There is much current debate about injecting more money. That will make not the slightest difference because, like so many of our services, the destruction, in the name of Mammon, has already happened.

Behind A Vinca

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Jackie spent the morning working on the garden beds. I finished aerating the scrawny grass patch and did a little clearing up.

Gazebo Path with Jackie working on Trangular Bed

At the house end of the Gazebo Path weeded by Aaron last week, Jackie worked on tidying the Triangular Bed;

Garden across grass patch with Jackie working on West Bed

Dead End Path with Jackie working on West Bed

and, alongside the Dead End Path, the West Bed.

Viewed from our back drive, the splendid magnolia still soars above the vacant North Breeze jungle.

Runaway pansies from last year’s hanging baskets have seeded at will.

The Head Gardener’s Walk, laid down two years ago, threads through the then non-existent Dragon Bed.

Almost by the hour, tulips are opening out everywhere.

This shield bug vainly hoped to hide behind a vinca.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s succulent sausage casserole, creamy mashed potato and swede, fresh spring greens and runner beans. Neither of us imbibed.

Evil Little Weevils

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Yesterday afternoon our peace was disturbed by a clattering and scratching emanating from the wall behind a radiator in the TV half of the sitting room. We used to hear that in the open fireplace. Until we lit a fire. Clearly the jackdaws were back, building their nest in a now boarded up chimney. Sure enough, one was perching sentinel on a chimney pot this morning.

Much of the day was spent attending to the garden, throughout which violets are popping up.

My contribution was generally tidying up and cutting the grass.

The Rose Garden is coming along quite well,

as is the Front Garden.

I was close enough to this wasp in the orange shed to be sure that we do have them.

Jackie’s efforts included relining the Waterboy’s pond which had sprung a leak;

replenishing the soil in pots and hanging baskets, during which she discovered her first clutch of evil little vine weevils;

and poking holes with an aerator into the less healthy looking grass patches.

While we took drinks in the Rose Garden before dinner, Jackie spotted that the Big Beast has shown us what it thinks of my pathetic round peg in the square hole. It has simply moved along a touch and ripped off a lot more fencing. We really do hope it is not a rat.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s delicious lamb jalfrezi, savoury rice, and vegetable samosas. Jackie, having drunk Hoegaarden earlier, did not join me in my Bergerac 2015. Not that she would have done anyway. It is not her tipple.

Stalked By A Dalmatian?

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This morning I continued work on the rose garden, Jackie cut back plants in other beds, and

Aaron made considerable headway on weeding the gravel paths.

After lunch, Jackie and I drove into the forest. The terrain around Fritham seems to be the home of miniature ponies. I tend to call them all Shetlands, because I don’t know any better. As we drove past a car park we noticed one vehicle surrounded by these little creatures. Naturally we turned round to investigate.

Brian, who is concerned that I don’t feed carrots to the ponies, should be very pleased that a little girl was doing just that.

Child saying goodbye to Shetland ponies 1

When the time came for our little friend to wave goodbye

the fickle animals moved on to see what they could scrounge from the next vehicle.

A few larger ponies did mingle with the smaller ones,

one of which had me wondering whether there was such a thing as a Dalmatian pony. Later research revealed that it is probably a miniature British spotted pony,

Shetland pony and woman changing shoes 2

Shetland pony and woman changing shoes 1

which, when a young woman on the other side of the car park opened her car boot to change her footwear, trotted over and stood patiently, silently, behind her.

Shetland pony and woman changing shoes 3

Perhaps she felt its breath, for, with a joyful exclamation, she turned and patted it, just as she was in the process of prising off a footwear boot.

Our return home was via Bramshaw, where black-faced sheep spilled into the road.

Upon investigation I discovered that the Newbridge Telephone Kiosk is now a repository for local social history. Among the photographs inside is one of the phone box when it was in use as such, with information about the iconic design and its creator;

Images of St Mary’s Church and an early wedding can be seen through a broken window;

two more weddings, seen here through murky glass, are also remembered.

This evening we dined on tasty pork chops with apple sauce, flavoursome sage and onion stuffing; creamy swede and potato mash; crisp carrots, broccoli and green beans; and piquant cauliflower cheese. I finished the merlot, and Jackie abstained.

Current State Of Play

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It is perhaps no bad thing that the sun went AWOL today. This is because we spent the morning on spring clearance, and in the afternoon there wasn’t much light shone on what still needs to be done. Nevertheless I wandered around to capture images of the current state of play.

Here we have the result of Aaron’s work on the back drive. In the second picture daffodils and vincas are thriving.

Daffodils and camellias appear in most of the views, like this one that sculptured Florence looks upon,

and these from different sides of the Palm Bed.

Hellebores, such as these in the Kitchen Bed are also ubiquitous.

The Head Gardener’s Walk adds cyclamens to the mix.

We’ll get around to the Cryptomeria

and Weeping Birch Beds soon.

Jackie has spent some time clearing out the hanging baskets and pots

and tidying the patio.

The previously scarcely-existent front garden has bedded in well, euphorbias standing sentinel,

and daffodils, primulas, and hellebores adding colour.

The Monday Pie of our childhoods followed the Sunday roast meal. This was the left-over beef or lamb minced up in a Spong and turned into cottage or shepherd’s pie. Jackie has her own version. I know it isn’t Monday, but then her roast dinners are not confined to Sundays, and we enjoyed roast lamb yesterday. Her pie, on which we dined this evening, consists of the meat coated in gravy, wrapped in tin foil, and heated through very slowly in the oven. This renders it superbly succulent. The dish is topped with roast potatoes and mushrooms. Today it was served with sage and onion stuffing, carrots, cabbage, and green beans. With this, Jackie drank Hoegaarden. My choice was Patrick Chodot Fleurie 2014.

Half Term

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Storm Doris had blown about the bag of twigs gathered up a couple of days ago, and dumped more on the beds and paths in the garden.

The Shady Path, with its Camellia shrubs didn’t look too bad, except for the chair blown over on the decking.

We picked up a few more bits of tree and went for a drive in the forest.

Beautifully situated among daffodils on the village green at Portmore is another Telephone Box book exchange.

I exchanged greetings with a friendly jogger running along the verge of the road between Beaulieu and Dibden Purlieu,

as I was walking back a short way into the forest, to the opposite side of the road, where numerous temporary pools reflected the trees they surrounded.

Friars Cliff Café was full to bursting as children, taking advantage of half-term in Hampshire’s schools, had fun on the beach before taking refreshments. We enjoyed a brunch there.

This evening I made prints of Sam and Louisa in the skip from Ratty, the post of two days ago; and two little girls doing handstands and running on the sand. Louisa’s picture was by request. The others were for the mother of the other children who preferred not to have the pictures posted here.

Later we dined on pizza and salad with which I finished the merlot opened three days ago.