Tag: Penny Lane

An Arboreal Ossuary

This morning Jackie continued with her general maintenance work, including

autumn cleaning the greenhouse, and clearing and resetting paths such as the Head Gardener’s Walk.

My minimal intervention was the removal of brambles invading from No. 5 Downton Lane. This, and the amount of weeds piercing the gravel is somewhat reminiscent of our arrival here 1n 2014.

I then wandered around with my camera.

Each of these images bears a title in the gallery,

as do these in the front garden one. Please ignore the rose stems that need sorting out.

This afternoon we drove into the forest.

If these ponies had come for a drink beside Bisterne Close they would have been disappointed because the pool has virtually dried up.

I stopped along Burley Road to investigate the tree work on the fallen giant that has recently added its bulk to the

arboreal ossuary that this area has become.

Early this evening, having been encouraged by my very good blogging friend, Uma Shankar, One Grain Amongst the Storm, and endorsed by another, Laurie Graves, to break up the sequence of material on my three great aunts, I made headway in preparing the next episodes of A Knight’s Tale.

Later, we dined on a repeat of yesterday’s menu, with which Jackie drank the same white wine and I quaffed Colin-Bourisset Fleurie 2019.

Early Morning Light

We began work in the garden early, because we knew it would be a hot day. In addition to all her general labours, Jackie spent much time scrubbing surfaces, such as the slippery decking, and pigeon poo on chairs and benches. My task was a certain amount of dead heading and feeding of the compost bin, but mostly, taking advantage of the diffused light before the sun had risen too high.

This deep red climbing rose was inherited from our predecessors in a sorry, straggly, state, yet now thrives under the Head Gardener’s loving care.

This New Dawn, a present from Poppy and Tess, is now beginning to scale the gazebo.

This recent purchase is a climber called Brownie, which was bred by Nola M. Simpson in New Zealand before 2009.

The first of these clematises is accompanied by a bottle brush plant and a Chilean lantern tree; the second by a Rosa Glauca.

The bottle brush plant glimpsed above is the red one now coming into bloom; the climber Wedding Day spans the Brick Path.

Most hanging baskets have now been planted up.

Several hebes are flourishing. Jackie is very pleased with this sculptural eryngium.

A variety of day lilies abound.

Readers will be aware that we have one honey-scented cordyline Australis. We didn’t know ourselves that we have three more on the west side of the garden which we have not noticed flowering before.

Pale pink Penny Lane and bright red Super Elfin have happily settled on the Gothic Arch.

Peach Abundance flowers in the Oval Bed just outside the Rose Garden, among whose residents are

an unknown deep pink climber; red Roserie de l’Hay; red and white striped Rosa Gallica and yellow Laura Ford; poppies and foxgloves; pink and yellow Summer Wine; bright red Gloriana; and golden Crown Princess Margareta.

This afternoon we spent an hour with Mum, who was in good spirits, in the garden of Woodpeckers.

Afterwards I watched a memorable Wimbledon tennis match between Angelique Kerber and Sara Sorribes Tomo.

This evening we dined on more of Jackie’s delicious beef and onion pie with flavoursome Jersey Royal potatoes; crunchy carrots; tender runner beans, and meaty gravy, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Cotes du Rhone.

A Negative Tattoo

The day dawned dull yet dry; the air cool and cheerless. Nevertheless

Compassion rose, its neighbouring geranium palmatum; rose Penny Lane and her accompanying clematis Dr Ruppel flourished well enough as I made my way into the garden to gather up clippings from the Head Gardener’s morning graft.

After lunch I carried out an extensive but by no means exhaustive dead-heading exercise in the Rose Garden.

Absolutely Fabulous, For Your Eyes Only, Créme de la créme, Laura Ford, Festive Jewel, a pink rambler, and Aloha are among those that received attention.

A little later we visited Otter Nurseries where we bought another wooden bench. This was the last one in the store. It was the display item. As it was already at a reduced price there was no discount, but there was a bonus. Because it was on display we did not have to assemble it ourselves and it will be delivered tomorrow because we couldn’t fit it this form into the Modus. In football parlance this was a result.

Afterwards we continued into the forest where

beside the tidal lake at Beaulieu, a swan family were taking their cygnets for an outing, and

a human family were feeding the ducks.

Outside the Abbey two pregnant donkeys dozed and one dined on hedgerow while her son grazed for his own dinner.

Outside The Oak Inn at Bank ponies gathered on the green

and wandered in the woodland.

One in particular bore a negative tattoo of an intriguing mud pattern.

This evening we very much enjoyed an Indian Takeaway meal from Red Chilli, a new outlet in Old Milton. My main course was probably the best King Prawn Naga I have ever tasted; Jackie’s chicken biriani was equally good. My special rice was very good, and we also liked the sag poneer. There was so much that we have enough left over for tomorrow, including the plain paratha which we didn’t even unwrap. The whole meal passed what we call the poppadom test – if they are good, the rest will be. Mrs Knight drank Hoegaarden while I drank more of the CEO.

Sunny Periods

As the early morning sunshine made way for the later gloom I assisted the Head Gardener in some tidying of the garden whilst also

recording the current state of affairs. Along with various views I photographed dahlias, fuchsias, clematises, roses, nicotiana, leaves of Weeping Birch and Virginia creeper, asters, a bee, and begonias. Clicking on any image will access the gallery which provides individual titles and aids enlargement.

Later this afternoon because we were promised sunny periods we went in search of some, finding one bestowing its charms on Ibsley where

an assortment of pigs frenziedly competing for mast rocketed along the leaf-dappled verges and to and fro across the roads grunting, snuffling, occasionally squealing in isolated panic and frantically dashing about, perplexing the be-rugged field horses and amusing visiting drivers.

The forded stream is now reasonably full,

and the surrounding landscapes rich in autumn colour.

A solitary pony at Appleslade sported.a caramel coat.

This evening we dined on succulent roast chicken; crisp Yorkshire pudding and roast potatoes, the sweeter variety being softer centred; herby sage and onion stuffing; tender cabbage and firm Brussels sprouts, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Médoc.

Still Going Strong

This morning I cut the grass and produced a few photographs.

Individual titles appear on the galleries.

This afternoon I almost finished reading Point Counter Point by Aldous Huxley which I will feature tomorrow.

Tonight’s dinner consisted of sag bhaji and mild prawn curry starter from Forest Tandoori followed by the main event in the form of Jackie’s spicy lamb jalfrezi and aromatic pilau rice, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Shiraz.

Risk To Their Undercarriage

Last night I finished reading ‘One Hundred Years of Solitude’ by Colombian Nobel prizewinner Gabriel Garcia Marquez. First published in Argentina in 1967 this book was in the forefront of magical realism, and, as such, made the author anxious about its reception. Although there were some detractors the work has remained popular for more than the following half century.

Magic there is in abundance in the flowing, descriptive, language, the characterisation and the fantastic tales therein. The reality comes in the breadth of the inventive development of the 20th century. As usual I will not even attempt to tell the story, but can, without revealing too much, say that by tracing the imaginative history of a nation-founding dynasty, the writer symbolises the making of South America and of the world.

My 1991 edition, part of Jonathan Cape’s collected set, contains a family tree which goes some way to unravelling who’s who in this saga of longevity of a family whose members often share similar names.

Gregory Rabassa has produced the translation from the Spanish, which I can only assume is true to the original.

Late this morning Jackie drove me to Milford on Sea for Peter to cut my hair at Sears Barbers.

This afternoon I bagged up another heap of the Head Gardener’s rose clippings, then tied up some stems of red

Super Elfin and pink Penny Lane accompanying clematis Dr Ruppel on the Gothic arch.

Later we drove into the overcast forest which seemed overpopulated with lethargic ponies and cattle. I chose to focus on just two of the equines who occupied the usual central spot on Forest Road.

Tails twitching, they rapidly departed the safety of the oak tree, and adopted the customary head to tail stance enabling each to whisk away at flies irritating their partner’s muzzle. No way were they going to budge for any vehicles which could only pass the stubborn barrier by lurching off the eroded edge of tarmac at risk to their undercarriage.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s succulent ‘sunflower’ beef pie; swede mash; boiled new potatoes; crunchy carrots and cauliflower; with meaty gravy. The Culinary Queen drank Beck’s and I finished the Malbec.

Ella And The Ladybirds

Strong winds howled throughout the night, and did not abate until midday – then only temporarily. A warm sun put in intermittent appearances.

Among Aaron’s tasks was weeding the Back Drive.

“Where’s Aaron?” (10). Bigification might help with this one.

Here are the results of my garden photoshoot. “Where’s Jackie?” (4) is the picture containing the greenhouse. As usual individual photographs are titled in the galleries. Each image may be viewed full size by clicking the box beneath it, after which further enlargement is possible.

During a break I joined the real gardeners who were discussing developments.

Danni, Andy, and Ella paid us a welcome visit this afternoon.

Our great-niece, when noticing that she was being photographed in the act of demonstrating her prowess with a knife and fork, swiftly adopted her scrunched up poser’s smile. Soon afterwards, well nappy-bolstered, she sat comfortably on a bed of gravel and played passing the ornamental crystal with her Dad. When she decided it was time to step down she clung to Andy for balance. Having sought out the ladybird she had discovered on her last visit, she retrieved both it and its companion and, one in each hand, carried them around. She is seen here kissing one before climbing onto a bench, without releasing either, and conversing with them – possibly inviting them for a ride on the buggy improvised from a garden hose.

This evening we dined on oven fish and chips, purchased before we knew Mrs Pink’s was open again, spicy prawns, pickled onions and gherkins, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Colle Marrone.

Ali Baba

When I walked down the garden to open the back gate for Aaron this morning the early sun peeped over the eastern fence, its light licking

the jeweling of last night’s rain still glittering on the plants. The bees were working away. Wedding Day festooning the Agriframes Arch approved of the Penny Lane bouquet adorning another. As usual galleries can be accessed by clicking on any image each of which may be viewed full size with a click in its box at bottom right; further enlargement will then also be possible.

Readers may remember that the territorial arrangement arrived at last year between Nugget and his rival, Muggle, was that the mutual boundary was the first hawthorn tree along the back drive. I therefore think that it was

Muggle I met along the back drive, providing me with “Where’s Muggle?” (1) and (2).

Among his other tasks this morning Aaron added more paving to his path linking Dead End to the patio.

One of the presents we had given Danni for her birthday was a large Ali Baba planter. These were being sold at Redcliffe Garden Centre. They were half price with a further reduction if you bought two. This had the Head Gardener thinking that she also needed one. We bought two.

This afternoon she potted up hers. Rocks and bricks covered in fleece provided the necessary drainage; the contents of two grow bags came next, and were followed by those of two and a half 50 litre compost bags. Then came the main permanent feature of the gaura with its small delicate pink and white blooms surrounded by pelargoniums, petunias, and other trailing plants which will extend to where the Head Gardener is indicating. Finally watering was required. The final picture gives the view of the pot enjoyed by anyone sitting on the white seat cleared yesterday in the Weeping Birch Bed.

Later, taking a bundle of black refuse bags and a letter delivered to our house, we visited Elizabeth and enjoyed a pleasant hour or so of socially distanced conversation in her garden.

On Bull Hill, donkeys and ponies favoured differing fodder. The smaller animals, of course, prefer prickly provender.

Our dining fare this evening consisted of piquant two varieties of pasta cheese; crispy bacon; roast potatoes, and mixed vegetables, with which the Culinary Queen drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Malbec.

In A Flap

As I walked down to the Back gate to open it for Aaron early this morning I passed

the delicate pastel shades of Penny Lane which will have a powerful fragrance later in the day;

oriental poppies which have stubbornly clung to some petals despite the recent gales;

abundant Félicité Perpétue draped over a dead stump;

and rich red Ernest Morse.

A myriad of bees were already engaged in packing their pollen sacs.

Two masquerading as others were a striped hoverfly and a green shield bug.

A somewhat tattered Red Admiral fluttered by, occasionally pausing to rest.

The roses on the front trellis have been so weighty of late as to pull down their support. It was one of Aaron’s A.P. Maintenance tasks today to strengthen this section.

This afternoon we took a drive into the forest. First stop was Setley Ridge Garden Centre where Jackie bought some more trays of plants and I photographed

a bee on an ageratum.

We then took the Sandy Down route to the east.

There was a little delay on the road to Beaulieu as a foal was shepherded across the road.

At East Boldre several somnolent ponies occupied the road. Others, including a foal, snoozed on the grass. Unmoved, those on the road played havoc with the traffic of which they were oblivious for some time. One dappled grey seemed to have dislodged its reflective collar.

Suddenly, silently, the entire group took off for Masseys Road. The previously recumbent foal soon caught up.

Dangerously foraging on the verge of South Baddesley Road three ducks diced with death. The white one was sent out scouting. Eventually it got in a flap trying to convince its leading companion that crossing the road was not a good idea.

This evening we dined on a rack of pork spare ribs marinaded in sweet barbecue sauce and Jackie’s vegetable rice, with which she drank Blue Moon Belgian style wheat ale, and I drank more of the Ringbolt Cabernet Sauvignon.

Fireworks

The sun today made fleeting, peeping, appearances in the garden.

These elegant, slender, gladioli are proliferating outside the kitchen door;

as does clematis Marie Boisselot in-urned in the Kitchen Bed alongside a deep red peony,

single petalled examples of which stand in the Dragon Bed.

Other clematises include Niobe on the corner of the kitchen wall, and on the wisteria arbour,

also home to Paul’s Scarlet;

and flamboyant Doctor Ruppel climbing the arch spanning the Brick Path beside the West Bed.

Delicate pink rose Penny Lane shares the arch.

One view from the Kitchen Bed leads to the distant entrance to

the Rose Garden, where

Festive Jewel, For Your Eyes Only, Love Knot, and Gloriana are among the parade.

Splendid Fireworks alliums burst forth in the Weeping Birch Bed,

while gentler pink stars mingle with Erigeron and euphorbia in the Kitchen Bed.

From the Weeping Birch Bed we are led through the Cryptomeria Bed to the eastern fence.

Pink campion and a bright red rhododendron stand sentinel on the south west and south eastern corners of the grass patch.

The red rhododendron emblazons these views down the Gazebo Path.

Elizabeth popped in this afternoon for a cup of tea.

This evening Jackie and I dined on pork spare rib chops on a bed of her mushroom rice fried in sesame oil. Mrs Knight drank Hoegaarden and I drank The Long Way Round Reserve Carmenere 2018.