planting – derrickjknight

Water Fountains

I have never before experienced a sauna, but when I stepped out into our steamy garden to carry out my first dead heading of roses for the last three weeks at 11 a.m. I was greeted with a good idea of what to expect if I ever do. I had returned indoors by midday, and did not emerge again until late afternoon when I wandered around with a camera.

Jackie had achieved her gardening tasks before I came out for the first time.

She had further reduced the pile of pots on the patio awaiting planting out.

Hanging baskets and the iron urn, which she has spent 2 days clearing of a writhing ants’ nest all benefited.

While I was working in the Rose Garden a sharp droning noise alerted me to the fact that its solar powered water fountain was bone dry and screaming out for water.

The Head Gardener fixed that before serving lunch.

Waterboy tips his water into the container on the Pond Bed, where the Wonderful Grandparents rose blooms again.

Red sweet peas appear in the third picture in the Rose Garden gallery,

whereas white ones grace the arch at the corner of the Oval Path and

the Weeping Birch Bed.

Blue agapanthus stretches over the Gazebo Path from the Palm Bed,

seen here from the lawn,

while solanum hangs over the Brick Path.

This evening we watched the Olympic men’s doubles tennis matches between Rafael Nadal partnering Carlos Alcaraz and Tallon Griekspoor with Wesley Koolhof; then Andy Murray and Dan Evans against Sander Gille with Joran Vliegen; the first while dining from tables in front of the TV on roast pork, apple sauce, boiled new potatoes, Yorkshire Pudding, fried onions and mushrooms, cabbage, carrots, cauliflower, and broccoli stems; the second after our meal was over. I drank more of the Tempranillo.

Rusting Refuse

Although today’s temperature remained warm, the sun had conceded precedence to gloomy cloud cover.

On her return from a photographic expedition in the garden Flo

grabbed a rather joyful photograph of Ellie.

Among his tasks today were the planting in the Palm Bed which he had further prepared to take them;

pruning of the Rose Garden apple tree, and other areas, such as

the wooden arch above the shady path;

and gathering metal refuse, such as this rusting tabletop, for eventual removal to the dump.

Jackie spent much of the day producing tonight’s dinner of chicken jalfrezi; the smaller, milder, panful of butter chicken, also containing two boiled eggs, Ellie was to share with her mother, and gave her father some. The rice was Jackie’s vegetable version. My accompanying beverage was Gran Selone Italian red wine, while Jackie finished the rosé.

Around The Patio Table

This afternoon, in order to help me respond to a questionnaire, I recovered missing pictures to the following post:

A Postillion Struck By Lightning

Wayback Machine was invaluable in this because there was not even an indication of missing pictures on the post.

After this I joined the others around the patio table where we enjoyed cold drinks and happy conversation.

I admired Jackie’s recent planting on the kitchen wall and along the path.

Ellie made the acquaintance of the garden pig which she refrained from putting into her mouth.

Following the kitchen path I also photographed the planting outside the stable door, and continued

past Sweet William in the Oval Bed

to the Rose Garden, focussing on yellow Absolutely Fabulous, and red Aloha.

It was now time for Ellie to be fed crême caramel by Flo

and scone with clotted cream by Becky.

Jackie produced chicken korma and chicken makhani with pilau rice for dinner this evening. She drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Fleurie.

A Sample Double Spread

Flo and Dillon spent most of the afternoon planting and watering garden containers.

Those on the trellis and the wall at the front had all succumbed to the heat and required clearing, composting and irrigation.

Jackie and I fixed three quarters of the photographs into the first album. There are 50 pages each 14″ square, consequently 100 usable in each book, separated by acid-free glassine sheets.

Here is a sample double spread.

This evening we dined on spicy Jerk pork chops cooked with peppers; roast potatoes, some of the sweet variety; firm broccoli and cauliflower, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden, Dillon drank Ribena, and I drank Valle del Tapes Syrah 2019.

Reaching Above The Potting Shed

Flo, yesterday evening, and Jackie this morning spent a good deal of time continuing the tidying of the Rose Garden.

This morning I posted https://derrickjknight.com/2022/07/24/a-knights-tale-146-big-clean-days/

After lunch I bagged up the last of the debris from the Rose Garden and watered the raised bed at at the end of the Back Drive. Flo had watered the containers last night.

As can be seen from these photographs I produced later this afternoon the container watering has kept the garden glowing.

Super Elfin rose stretches from the Gothic arch which spans the Brick Path.

The Rose Garden had been opened up again.

Jackie was working in there for a while longer.

The lilies to the top left of this garden view reach above the potting shed.

This evening we dined on more of the Papa John’s pizzas with which Jackie and I repeated our beverages while Flo drank Mango J20

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.

A Glorious Summer’s Day

Jackie spent most of her birthday of gloriously sunny weather continuing her

replenishing and refurbishment of her vast number of plant containers.

In particular she concentrated on the stone urns, pots, and hanging baskets in the

Rose Garden,

into which a small dragonfly glided, coming to rest on the warm paving bricks.

Bees were busy everywhere. Here one loves and leaves a Welsh poppy;

another dives into an Oriental variety;

one more caresses an Erigeron.

The most recently blooming rhododendron also proved attractive.

We have quite a few of those Oriental poppies.

Jackie has also planted up the iron urn in front of the Bottle Brush plant.

These gladioli appearing in the Weeping Birch Bed must have grown from bulbs secreted in the compost from the group outside the kitchen door.

We have more clematises coming into bloom on a daily basis. Clicking on any to access the galleries will reveal the names of those we know.

This afternoon first Shelley and Ron, then Elizabeth, came bearing birthday gifts.

This evening we dined at The Royal Oak with Becky and Ian. This was a lovely occasion on which Jackie was given more presents, including a musical beer mug that had belonged to her father, and a glass cat from her friend Barbara in Amity Grove. Tears ensued. We then got down to the business of eating. My choice of main meal was perfect lean belly of pork; Jackie and Ian enjoyed burgers in brioches; Becky chose junior fish and chips which would have been adult portions in most places. Ian and I chose Eton mess for desert; Jackie chose créme brulée; and Becky, ice cream. The ladies both drank Diet Coke; Ian drank Birra Moretti; and I drank Malbec.

Fruits Of Labour

I am close to deciding on my final cut for the Everton Festival Photographic Competition. Many painful decisions are being made now, concerning which shots to leave out.

In order seriously to consider the deer having her nose scratched I have converted this image to Black and White, thus giving a sharper silhouette. This is, incidentally, quite a small crop from the original picture. Does anyone have an opinion?

Jackie has been working very hard all this week on planting and replenishment of soil.

Here she tidies what she has achieved against the kitchen wall;

this side of the patio, all of which has been repotted, leads through the Dead End Path,

Earlier plantings include this allium in the Palm Bed and clematis climbing the Wedding Day (formerly Agriframes) arch.

While I think of it, I have been calling the clematis wandering up the wisteria arbour Niobe; we now think it should be named Star of India.

It faces the bright red Chiliean Lantern tree.

Rose Altissimo stands sentinel between Elizabeth’s Bed and the

Rose Garden where Laura Ford’s yellow pigment splashes onto the heuchera border, and

Special Anniversary

nods to the numerous gloves the foxes have scattered therein.

Creamy yellow Summer Time makes its bid to support the peeling old shed;

Jacqueline du Pré plays on;

and the deep pink climber Elizabeth rediscovered races Roserie de la Haie to the skies.

The Weeping Birch Bed bursts with burgeoning blooms.

This evening we dined on chicken breasts roasted in sweet chilli sauce; creamy mashed potatoes; and ratatouille with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Garnacha Syrah.

Soil Transfusion

An early bird atop the oak across Christchurch Road admired this morning’s dawn sky which presaged a fine day.

And so it was. Warm enough to put the washing out.

My meagre task of the day was to begin the ongoing battle with the triffid invasion from our neighbour, North Breeze.

It is important to tackle the aliens early enough to prevent them from rooting on our side of the ramshackle border, as had this bramble.

When they burst through the greenhouse glass, as they did in the film (see the above link), then we will surely need to watch out.

It is a sad aspect of this jungle that it was once a wonderful garden, where the ghosts of such as

this rose,

this fruit tree,

this camellia,

and this magnolia, battle through to the light.

North Breeze neighbours the whole of the West side of our property, and turns the corner along the North side of the Back Drive,

where, watched by a sparrow,

Jackie was putting the finishing touches (just for the moment) to her creative planting.

Another regular operation she performs, on which she was engaged later, is soil transfusion. Much of the soil in the garden is rather anaemic and needs replenishing. Here, the surgeon has cut out a poorly section, removed the spent matter, and inserted a healthy supply.

She will then sift through the choked plants she has carefully preserved, extracting the smelly allium bulbs, and replant what she wishes to keep.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s luscious lamb jalrezi with savoury rice and parathas. She drank Hoegaarden whilst I drank Kingfisher.

Recycled Wrought Iron

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.