With the overnight gale force winds of Storm Pia still raging around the garden
this fallen planted pot was the least of the damage inflicted.
I have previously featured a pittosporum allowed by our predecessors to grow into a tree. This has now come crashing down
crushing an arch spanning the Dead End Path, and no doubt destroying hanging baskets which we can no longer see,
because the upper branches and their foliage now block the path.
This brings me to the Weeping Birch which lost all its leaves in the very hot summer spell, and looked vulnerable as its now naked limbs groped quivering in the gusts.
This evening we all dined on Jackie’s classic cottage pie with a sautéed potato topping; crunchy carrots, and firm Brussels sprouts, with which she drank Peroni and I drank Chilean Valle Central Cabernet Sauvignon 2022
Although the skies became overcast by mid morning, the day remained largely dry.
Martin began on today’s visit by tackling the overgrown and leaning pittosporum. The first two of these pictures show the tree tilted by the recent storms; the last, Martin’s trimmed result.
Leaving him in peace for a while, I wandered around and photographed tête-a-têtes; snowdrops and mahonia; and ipheions.
In the process I walked into another lurching overgrown shrub dislodged by the gales.
This euonymous would have to go, so
Martin set about it.
Leaving the leafy branches for us to burn, he took away the heavier pieces.
Afterwards he continued his work along the back drive. This involved straightening the edges, weeding the beds, and pruning roses supported by the dead stumps.
Although I was tempted by the aromas of chicken curry cooking all day, this was not for me. Jackie has prepared it for Sunday’s friends and relatives blitz on Elizabeth’s garden, postponed from last week’s which was rained off.
We therefore dined on Mr Chan’s excellent Hordle Chinese Take Away fare with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Douro.
Racing against the promised rain on this warm but gloomy morning we worked on providing freedom of expression for Compassion. Jackie assembled another Gardman arch for this rose that we have been trying fully to release from the clutches of myrtle and pittosporum. The heaviest pruning the plant has undergone for many years ensued. We then fixed the support in place and tied the remaining stems to them. A number of healthy buds remain.
That is not a weak sun peering through the pittosporum, but one of the drops of rain that sent us inside. Not before I had recorded the moment.
Neither of us can remember from where in the garden we had liberated the wrought iron structure that we had been using until now to support the rose. We had upended it and tied it to a beam suspended between the two trees, but we are becoming attached to arches, so it had to go. But where? Well, it might serve better to define the front boundary between us and North Breeze. So we transported it to the side of the house and laid it down.
In the drizzle of the day, I settled down into my chair. Not so the Head Gardener who didn’t seem to realise it was wet. I left her to potter, or so I thought. Until I heard the unmistakeable clang of hammer on metal, that could only mean one thing. She was banging in posts. I couldn’t let her do that alone, so I turned off my laptop and joined in the fray. The wrought iron was to be suspended from assorted metal posts taken from the growing collection of those found in the garden. I interred the posts, to which Jackie fastened the iron ornament. It is now intended to carry a clematis.
The reason, incidentally, that our neighbouring front garden is more visible than the back is that it was cleared a year ago.
A quick trip to Otter Nurseries, and the bed was soon planted up with ferns, pansies, and anemones. A clematis, Queen Mother, is going in on the opposite side of yesterday’s new arch to the Campaniflora.
Yet another owl sneaked a lift back with Jackie, and, through the kitchen window, ogled our dinner which consisted of succulent fillet steak, crisp cauliflower, and potatoes sauteed with peppers and onions. The Cook drank her customary Hoegaarden, and I drank La Ninadiere Beaujolais Villages 2014.
I have no idea how many owls The Head Gardener has thought it a hoot to introduce into our plot, but we certainly hear real ones away in the forest at night.
James Bird, who lived next door at Newark, once counted 25 birds’ nests in Lindum House Garden. Maybe he could come and hunt down the owls.
Jackie may have defeated the crow, but my suggestion that the squirrel baffle could be surplus to requirements was premature. This morning one of these bushy-tailed rodents climbed the central pole of the bird feeder, failed to circumvent the large concave upturned bowl designed to prevent it from nicking the avian fodder, sat on the grass, scratched its head, and pondered the problem. Although fat enough to suggest it’s a pretty smart cookie, when it devised its solution it demonstrated considerable agility by scaling the chimney pot and leaping onto the top of the plastic would-be deterrent from where it could stretch out a long limb and help itself. Jackie has now moved the feeding station further from the chimney pot. There ensued a persistent effort by the squirrel, seeking to rival Greg Rutherford. So far the creature has failed. Jackie photographed it on the petunias now doubling as a sand take-off pit; and, having conceded defeat on the jump, having a last attempt at driving itself up the pole. The sticks poked among the chimney pot flowers had deterred the crow. They didn’t trouble the furry invader who just elbowed them aside. No doubt this most intelligent animal will devise another method soon. Perhaps it will try the eucalyptus as a launchpad.
In the centre left of the wide angle shot of the garden containing the view of the intruder climbing the pole, can be seen an interesting new day lily that contrasts rather well with the geraniums beneath it.
As I walked down to the post box, steady motor traffic plied to and from the Shorefield Country Park. Cyclists freewheeling down the slope whirred past me. Others on the return trip announced their presence with the clicking of gears.
This morning I laid and raked the Dorset stone we bought yesterday, whilst Jackie sieved earth from the gravel, and raised a rows of bricks from sections of the old path to prevent overspill.
A foxglove appears on the left of the centre vertical picture above.
In the heat of this day glorying in a cloudless blue sky, the tinkling of the water feature installed yesterday was most tantalising.
A Pittosporum is a small shrub with attractive curly leaves. Except when it is allowed to grow into a tree. Our head gardener states that ours would have taken about five years to reach its current height. This is why those shrubs around it have been deprived of air, space, and light. My task this afternoon was to reduce its impact on its neighbours and, accepting that it is now a tree, to give it shape. This was done with the aid of a sharp saw and long loppers; and Jackie to poke levelling stones under the legs of the stepladder and hold it steady as I ventured aloft. The sun, screened behind the high branches, streamed through those that were left at the end of the effort. Hopefully, the myrtle, and the pink rose, will reap the benefit.
There hasn’t been much time for a while for a journey over to Poulner to visit the delightful Donna-Marie’s hair salon, so, before dinner, Jackie took up her scissors where she had left them off more than forty years ago, and cut my hair. They weren’t actually the same scissors. Dressmaking ones had to suffice.
Dinner was a gorgeously coloured and tasting beef casserole with mashed potato, carrots, and parsnip, followed by Post House Pud. Jackie drank Tsing Tao, whilst I opened a bottle of Las Primas Gran Familia tempranillo 2013 and consumed some of its contents.
The method for cooking the casserole is as follows:
Take about 1 lb. of frying beef in assorted Supermarket packs picked up on special offer; 5 medium onions; 3 peppers (in this case red); lots of mushrooms, and garlic cloves to taste.
Cook the beef in a pressure cooker (15 minutes in our new induction hob friendly one) with a Knorr beef stock cube.
Meanwhile stir-fry the onions, garlic, peppers, and mushrooms.
Then put all the ingredients together in a saucepan or casserole dish with about half a pint of red wine and simmer on a low heat for about half an hour.
