petunias – Page 10 – derrickjknight

“Just Like Daddy’s”

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This morning I became a veritable barber in a dead-heading spree.

I began with the prolific Japanese anemones in the front garden.

As I look out of my sitting room window each morning, I think of that excellent blogging poet Pleasant Street, who commented recently that she preferred to see older blooms alongside the fresh ones, “like life”. Although our reason for dead-heading is not vicariously to deny the effects of ageing, but rather to promote new growth, Pleasant certainly has a point. In deference to that I have left the blooms immediately in view to nature.

I also gathered up some of the branches broken by the winds. As the day continued the winds gradually returned to approach the 60 m.p.h. expected this evening.

Remarkably little damage has so far been incurred. Here are the Palm Bed;

the corners at the house end of the Brick Path;

the Gazebo Path;

Elizabeth’s Bed;

the solanum and clematis draped on the dead tree;

perked-up dahlias;

petunias and begonias in large pots;

chrysanthemums;

and rose Gloriana.

The Small White butterflies flitted around everywhere.

This afternoon Elizabeth visited and we took a trip to Molly’s Den, where I photographed a few random displays.

Not quite so random was this scene, taking me back to one Christmas in the 1980s.

Louisa would have been about six or seven when Jessica and I bought her an ironing board. “Just like Daddy’s”, was her delighted cry.

This evening, before Elizabeth returned home, we dined on Jackie’s perfect pork paprika and wild rice. Jackie drank Hoegaarden and my sister and I drank more of the Fleurie.

Careless Mother

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A rare glimpse of the sun this morning reminded me that I had neglected to offer any photographs of the front garden in yesterday’s post.

These are the flowers fronting the garage doors. I am sure that the Head Gardener would wish to have it pointed out that she swept this area later.

Two general shots display Japanese anemones and a couple of clematises;

and petunias, hydrangea, and erigeron. The tree is a winter flowering cherry.

On the trellis honeysuckle and solanum are prominent,

while petunias in hanging baskets and orange nasturtiums add vibrant colour.

Although patches of blue sky would peek between occasional gaps in the threatening clouds, we didn’t see much more of the sun.

I spent much of the day on form-filling and other administrative tasks. This afternoon Jackie drove me to the soon to be closed down Hordle Post Office to avail myself of a box that would take larger envelopes. We then drove into the forest.

At East Boldre it seemed sensible to stop as a donkey foal wandered in front of the car.

Not worried in the slightest, the mother lived up to the reputation of her kind, and tore at thistles

and brambles in contented oblivion,

whilst her offspring, after a little thought, ventured back into the road,

causing an Openreach van to give the creature a wide berth when it stopped to enjoy a leisurely scratch. Either the adult was extremely negligent or she considered that the youngster had learned that it had the right of way on New Forest roads. This is almost certainly the same mother and child I photographed in April soon after the baby’s birth, when it was sprawled out across the verge.

Further on, beneath a heather covered hillock at Crockers Clump,

on the edge of a Stygian pool,

a long tree had fallen across the sward, coming to rest against one still upright. In compliance with regulations in the interests of ecology this tree will remain where it lies until it rots away.

This evening we dined on succulent chicken Kiev served with new potatoes, crunchy carrots, and toothsome green sprouting broccoli. Jackie drank Hoegaarden annoying 1445, and I drank Parra Alta malbec 2016.

Late Summer Blooms

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While Jackie, weeded, watered, and planted, my main gardening task today was extensive dead-heading. If anyone spots any heads I’ve missed in the following photographs, I’ll thank you for not mentioning it.

We have many petunias. These, with geraniums and erigeron, grace the sitting room wall.

These, in a basket hanging over the shady path, blend well with a dangling fuchsia and lobelia above;

accompany begonias,

like these above the Dragon Bed,

or are planted in beds.

Dahlias, such as Bishop of Lllandaff,

and some I can’t identify are cropping up everywhere.

This last trio grace the West Bed alongside the Dead End Path.

A furry bee is cleverly camouflaged by the red and yellow one.

Other bees explore a carpet rose

and a salvia,

two varieties of which are potted at the corner of the Kitchen Bed.

These chrysanthemums speak to the phlox behind.

I have no idea how many geraniums fill this stone urn nearby. Last autumn they were all little broken stems that the Head Gardener stuck in soil and nurtured through the winter.

Hibiscuses and Japanese anemones such as these on opposite sides of the Brick Path are typical of late summer blooms.

Another happy juxtaposition is that of the penstemons and Festive Jewel in the Rose Garden.

The climbing fuchsia Lady in Black, against the pink hydrangea backdrop, has begun its ascent up the new arch beside the greenhouse;

while the White clematis climbing the obelisk in the Kitchen Bed still flowers.

Jackie has produced her own individual signage for our paths,

and such as the Cryptomeria.

Finally, here is a view across the Palm Bed.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s lemon chicken, breaded mushrooms, boiled potatoes, crunchy carrots, and crisp spring greens. One of the advantages of being a wine drinker is that, after a tipple on the patio, I have some left for my dinner. It doesn’t seem to work like that with Hoegaarden. I drank Cimarosa, reserva privada cabernet sauvignon 2012.

Seeking Camouflage

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The sun has returned after several days’ absence. I wandered around the garden with a camera. These photographs reflect the current conditions in our plot.

Hibiscuses are now in full bloom. This one is at the front;

as is this yellow climbing nasturtium sharing the garage frontage with

hanging baskets such as this container of geraniums an lobelia blending with the clematis Star of India behind them.

There are quite a few dahlias reaching up to meet the Chequerboard fuchsia sharing the basket suspended from the wisteria arbour with the paler blue lobelias.

A buddleia peeps through the Gazebo arch festooned with clematis Polish Spirit;

nearby petunias hang from the eucalyptus.

Leicesteria drop earrings dangle in the West Bed

which also contains white Japanese anemones Jackie planted a couple of years ago to contrast with the ubiquitous pink ones.

Begonias swing from the dead snake bark maple.

Priscilla gladioli have survived the rains in the

New Bed.

These petunias and geraniums stand on a brick plinth in the Weeping Birch Bed;

opposite them a pot on the corner of the Raised Bed contains more of each with many blooms behind them.

The crocosmia in this shot greets you as you leave the Rose Garden,

this view of which is focussed on Just Joey.

Altissimo, in the centre of this shot looking into Elizabeth’s Bed, has sent out a lower than normal stem.

Yellow rudbeckia takes centre stage in this section of the Palm Bed.

This bronzed Comma butterfly appears to be seeking camouflage from the dead little fir tree

in a pot on the right hand side of the Gazebo Path.

Perhaps last night’s power cut improved tonight’s evening meal. A consequence was that the lemon chicken Jackie was marinading remained in the lemon juice overnight. We enjoyed this with her special fried rice and runner beans. I finished the pinot noir. Jackie had drunk her Hoegaarden on the patio as an aperitif.

Destruction

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Yesterday afternoon, Jackie had been in the garden for some considerable time. This in itself was not exactly unusual, but I did think I should go out and ask whether she knew that it was raining. “Not in my greenhouse, it isn’t”.

Entering the construction myself, I saw her point, or rather her viewpoints.

When the sun emerged this morning from the previously leaden skies, I sat in the greenhouse with my camera.

A number of the photographs contain confusing reflections. Although I will allow viewers to work out most of these for themselves, I think it only fair that I should point out that the house in the first shot is not really on the other side of the

Dragon Bed,

from another corner of which the view leads across the garden past the gazebo and the bottle brush plant.

Crocosmias,

nicotiana,

day lilies and buddleia, among others, are all in view.

These two baskets hang over the Head Gardener’s Walk.

Jackie is particularly pleased that her orange cone is visible from her hide,

while, turning just a few yards to her right her eyes wander across the Kitchen Bed to the patio;

or the clematis festooning the Agriframes Arch.

After lunch we dumped the contents of two more orange bags of clippings into the container bins at Efford Recycling Centre, then went on a drive around the forest.

At Thorney Hill we encountered a string of ponies seeking shade under trees on the edge of their field.

Only one wore a fly protection mask, although

others could have done with something similar, and

an apparent biter had earned a muzzle.

By the roadside at Avon a burnt-out car, having charred the nearby fencing,

bore a Council Refuse Disposal notice.

It seemed to us that the vehicle had already suffered destruction.

This evening Jackie produced, pork slices cooked in piri-piri sauce; marvellous mushroom, onion, and egg rice; and tender runner beans. She drank Blue Moon, and I drank a 2015 Bordeaux.

One Happy Lady

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For most of the day the house resounded with delighted squeaks

as Jackie photographed the various stages of the expert greenhouse assembly by Rob and Ollie from Broomhill Garden Buildings. The Victorian style is in keeping with the conservatory of Mistletoe Cottage next door.

Almost immediately she was inside the structure furnished with a folding chair and the table recently purchased for the purpose from Efford Recycling Centre.

It wasn’t long before the sun emerged for the first time today, and the greenhouse had its own doorstep adornments,

its internal hanging basket of petunias,

and some of the pots for which it was purchased.

I had prepared a set of Streets of London colour slides for scanning, but decided that anything else on this post would be sacrilegious. There is always tomorrow.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s superb sausage casserole, creamy mashed potato, and perfect carrots, cauliflower and runner beans. Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Fleurie.

The Lady Of Shalott

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This morning I made this crop of a photograph taken at Burley in May, and Jackie turned it into a birthday card for Bill, whose party we were to attend later.

Among the various tasks carried out by Aaron was heavily pruning a spent philadelphus.

Bending the branches took a bit of effort.

This fuchsia Delta’s Sarah is spreading along the west side of the patio.

A stand of petunias,

and these rather splendid potted lilies prepare for the arrival of the base for the greenhouse to be delivered during the week.

Dahlias continue to enliven the borders,

and the first Japanese anemones are springing up.

The agapanthuses are coming along nicely,

while the New Zealand hebe now attracts the bees, eager to fill their pollen sacs.

Priscilla, the frilly gladiolus is coming through in the New Bed;

roses like Peach Abundance are having another flush;

and paler pink echinaceas have risen to join the darker red ones.

This afternoon we travelled by car to Poulner where we enjoyed Bill’s birthday party. We sat and conversed in the pleasant company of Helen and Bill’s children David, Rachel, and John; Rachel’s fiancé Gareth and John’s wife Stephanie and their children, Billy and Max; Gareth’s mother, Mo, and stepfather Fred; Shelly and Ron; and. of course the birthday boy and Jackie’s sister, Helen.

Gareth got the barbecue going, taking us through the smoky stage.

John took over to give him a chance to clear the vapours from his eyes.

Between them they produced a variety of roasted meats to go with the salads prepared by the ladies.

Here is a group of the male guests reflected in a window.

Great aunts eagerly took it in turns to cuddle two and a half month old Max.

Jackie handed him to her younger sister

who eventually handed him back to his mother whose hands he explored.

Bill was his usual engaging self,

and, in a tub filled with plastic balls, his young namesake did a passable impression of Tennyson’s Lady of Shalott as painted by many Victorian artists.

I mostly drank a fine Argentine malbec, and sampled a splendid strawberry trifle and cream tea scone for dessert.

Do You Like Butter?

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This morning, while Jackie weeded and I cleared up, Aaron smoothed concrete edging around the greenhouse base and realigned a section of The Head Gardener’s Walk.

At the other end of the garden the recent plantings in the Oval Bed have matured;

honeysuckle swings among the day lilies and petunias in the Weeping Birch Bed;

Violas grimace appealingly in the barrier tubs;

in the Rose Garden lilies still sway beside the Potting Shed,

while potted petunias and bedded penstemons offer accompaniment to the roses.

The view across the centre of the garden from the Shady Path has been opened up.

Out of sight on the far side pink and white sweet peas climb for Bruce.

Similarly hued fuchsias dangle from a pot beside the Gazebo Path.

I’m sure we were not the only children who held buttercups to friends’ chins, asking “Do you like butter?”. If your chin glowed yellow, you did. If not, you didn’t. Noticing this bee’s pollen coated butt, I asked the question.

“I’m not listening to this”, cried the bee, buzzing off with alacrity

This evening we enjoyed a second sitting of Mr Chan’s fare, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank a delicious gold medal winning Saint Emilion grand cru, a birthday present from Danni and Andy.

After this, prompted by Becky, I watched the highlights of the fourth day of the Test Match between England and South Africa. This turned out to be a good call.

I Must Not Assume There Will Be No More Surprises

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It was very rash of me to assume that I would know the entirety of the group at our meal at Lal Quilla last night, and to predict what I would eat and drink.

On our entrance the staff, with their usual warm and friendly greeting, said that someone had telephoned the night before to add two people. We didn’t know anything about that, and in any case, Ian had made the booking. He had a quiet word with Raj and we were whisked to a larger pair of tables, according to the manager so we could spread ourselves out a bit. He presented us with a bottle of Beaujolais, so I did not drink Kingfisher. After a while I received a kiss on the cheek. Elizabeth had joined us. Soon afterwards, Danni and Andy came through the door. We were nine plus Poppy after all.

Finally, as we gathered ourselves to depart, a small cake with two lighted candles advanced towards our table followed by the entire staff group who led the family in singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to me.

I’ve no idea why I felt rather muzzy all day. I dozed through a bit of Wimbledon tennis on TV, and managed a little weeding, watering, eradicating a few brambles, and tidying up after Jackie’s work on the rose garden. We took a rest with water on the patio from which I enjoyed

This view across the Kitchen Bed with its day lilies in the foreground and verbenas in a hanging basket beyond;

pot planted petunias and geraniums over an erigeron carpet;

and self seeded mimuluses and feverfew.

A dahlia nods to the clematis on the wisteria arbour;

pink discias, red geraniums, and yellow bidens flow over the iron urn at the entrance to the Gazebo Path;

while blazing crocosmia Lucifer leads us into the Palm Bed.

As can be seen from this Special Anniversary rose, I haven’t dead-headed the Rose Garden today.

White solanum and a bright blue clematis stream down from the dead tree at the end of the Brick Path.

This evening we dined on Mr Chan’s Hordle Chinese Take Away with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank tap water.

The moral of this post is that when I say I will report on an outing the next day, I must not assume there will be no more surprises.

Is This The Beast?

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Yesterday evening, whilst having drinks on the patio, a steady chugging overhead made me feel rather queasy. It took me back to Cumbria in the 1990s.

As we were promised several hours of rain this afternoon, Jackie spent the morning watering the garden, and I took some photographs. The rain arrived just as Jackie had finished.

I’ll write that again. Because she is going away for three days with her sisters The Head Gardener spent the morning watering the garden. Although rain was expected it does not penetrate the soil in pots and hanging baskets.

My day was largely administrative, involving contacting Environmental Health about next door, visiting the Care Home on the other side of North Breeze to discuss this; arranging for delivery of the greenhouse; and having a meeting at the bank.

I rarely focus on the happy proximity of planting that we enjoy in the garden. Today I will begin with a view that meets us as we open the kitchen door. The erigeron in the foreground has, with Jackie’s midwifery, spawned offspring all over the garden. The petunias and geraniums in the various pots sit pleasingly together, and the tall verbena bonarensis, as it does everywhere, towers aloft.

Across the other side of the patio, petunias, cosmoses, and geranium palmatums blend well with the distant spirea, The contrasting bidens, like every other one in the garden, is self seeded from last year.

We are led back along the Kitchen Bed to this corner from verbenas, geraniums, cosmoses and bidens, through day lilies and more.

Various day lilies lurk behind more suspended blue and white petunias in the Dragon Bed,

pink and white varieties of which share their berth in the herbaceous border with blue and white lobelias,

and purple ones swing on the breeze in the company of bright marigolds and geraniums at the western end of the Phantom Path.

Others produce a white theme with marguerites, with dappled blue and white examples beneath.

A pink display is provided by more petunias, geraniums, and lobelia, more of the first two in the background with the red Japanese maple, rosa glauca against the fence and palmatums in the foreground.

Here, pink diascas are backed by the strident red bottle brush plant.

When the next two poppies open they will have something to say to these phlox.

Verbena bonarensis sentinels surround this Star of India clematis,

whereas Madame Julia Correvon cartwheels across the dead prunus pissardi towards phlox and penstemon.

Petunias hanging near the Brick Path repeat the purple of another Star of India.

This vibrant potted hydrangea reflects geranium palmatums in Elizabeth’s bed containing equally powerful day lilies.

A similar hydrangea takes the eye through red geraniums to a fuchsia Magellanica, with ferns, lobelias, and verbena bonarensis joining the party.

Further along the bed a cooler note is stuck by a paler hydrangea and geranium palmatums.

Two different begonia and lobelia combinations hang over the Brick

and Heligan Paths.

Jackie is particularly pleased with these California poppies grown from seed spilling over the rocks among the grasses on the Cryptomeria Bed.

The red and white of Super Elfin rambler and neighbouring snapdragons contrast like the emblems of Lancaster and York in England’s fifteenth century Wars of the Roses.

Further along the herbaceous border one can rest among poppies, petunias, lobelias, and verbenas.

Clematis Margaret Hunt frolics among verbena bonarensis in the Back Drive barrier.

As I reached the conclusion of this tour I came upon a surprise scampering among the shrubs, pattering across the patio, and hopping under a hole scooped out of the soil under the North Breeze fence. Was this The Beast that burrows into our garded? If so it will not be alone. This prompted my call to Environmental Health. They have already been alerted to the vermin. They are interested in rats. They are only interested in mice if they are indoors. They do not do rabbits.

This evening we dined on Mr Pink’s fish and chips with our own pickled onions and gherkins Jackie drank Hoegaarden.