raindrops – Page 9 – derrickjknight

The Stable Door

CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE. THOSE IN GALLERIES CAN BE VIEWED FULL SIZE BY SCROLLING DOWN THE PAGE AND CLICKING ON THE RELEVANT BOX.

The much needed rain fell overnight and persisted as drizzle this morning. This afternoon we could continue in the garden. My contribution was weeding and making photographs. Jackie did the more creative tidying and planting.

Raindrops were left on poppies, heucheras, foxgloves, blue clematis, spider’s web complete with trapped insect, geraniums, rose For Your Eyes Only, rhododendrons, and libertia.

Clematis Marie Boisselot, and lilies benefited from their wash.

Jackie, leaning on the stable door, was amused at my wandering around with the camera. I have often mentioned the stable door, so , just in case anyone is wondering, I feel bound to mention that we do not keep horses. There is no point when we can trot off in search of some any time we like. What we call the stable door is

this. And yes, we do know that, like much of the house, it needs some attention.

This evening we dined on fish, chips, pickled onions, and gherkins. Jackie drank Peroni and I drank more of the cabernet sauvignon.

An Enforced Eviction

CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE. REPEAT IF REQUIRED.

Early this morning the sun shone on the wall-bound wisteria aiming for the en suite bathroom.

Lingering early raindrops rolled around the Diamond Jubilee tulips

Raindrops and fly on tulip Diamond Jubilee

onto which a thirsty fly dropped for a drink.

Another rhododendron, leading the eye to the pieris on the grass, is beginning to bloom.

The day dulled over as it progressed. We spent the morning working on the garden. Jackie did some general planting and weeding, and sprinkled chicken pellets over the newly composted beds. Before you imagine otherwise, we do not keep chickens. The pellets come in a large bucket and are marketed as manure.

Vinca makes an attractive ground cover, but it does have a tendency to sprawl, take root, and make life very uncomfortable for bed-mates. So it has been for the Weeping Birch Bed. I therefore concentrated my efforts on that. Fast approaching is the warmer weather when a thinner duvet will be in order.

A black-spotted ladybird and a tiny striped snail suffered an enforced eviction as I ejected their shelter.

Our stone urns and other containers are mounted on dry brick pillars. The ground under one of these subsided a bit last autumn and it fell over. We spent the last few minutes before lunch levelling a space and beginning to rebuild the column.

This evening we dined on succulent roast pork and apple sauce, roast sweet and savoury potatoes, with al dente carrots, cauliflower, and runner beans; followed by rice pudding and blackberry jam. I drank Reserve des Tuguets madiran 2012, and Jackie drank Hoegaarden.

Henry Croft

EXCEPT FOR HENRY CROFT WHO WILL NOT ENLARGE, CLICK ON IMAGES TO ACCESS GALLERIES THAT CAN BE VIEWED FULL SIZE.

A day’s unending dreary drizzle dripping from damp, dingy, clouds over Downton provided ample material for Pearly Kings and Queens to refresh their outfits.

Wikipedia tells us:

“The practice of wearing clothes decorated with so-called pearl, actually mother-of-pearl buttons, originated in the 19th century.^[1] It is first associated with Henry Croft, an orphan street sweeper who collected money for charity. At the time, London costermongers (street traders) were in the habit of wearing trousers decorated at the seams with pearl buttons that had been found by market traders. Croft adapted this to create a pearly suit to draw attention to himself and aid his fund-raising activities.^[2]^[3] In 1911 an organised pearly society was formed in Finchley, north London.^[1]

Croft died in January 1930, and his funeral was attended by 400 followers from all over London,^[1] receiving national media coverage.^[4] In 1934 a memorial to him was unveiled in St Pancras Cemetery, and in a speech to mark the occasion he was said to have raised £5,000 for those suffering in London’s hospitals.^[5] The statue was later moved to the crypt of St Martin-in-the-Fields, Westminster. The inscription reads:

In memory of Henry Croft who died January 1st 1930 aged 68 years. The original Pearly King

The pearlies are now divided into several active groups. Croft’s founding organisation is called the Original London Pearly Kings and Queens Association. It was reformed in 1975^[1]^[2] and holds the majority of the original pearly titles which are City of London, Westminster, Victoria, Hackney, Tower Hamlets, Shoreditch, Islington, Dalston and Hoxton. Other groups have also been established over the years. The oldest is the Pearly Guild, which began in 1902.^[1]^[6] Modern additions include the London Pearly Kings and Queens Society, which started in 2001 following a disagreement,^[1]^[3] and the Pearly Kings and Queens Guild.^[7] Despite the rivalries, each group is associated with a church in central London and is committed to raising money for London-based charities.^[1] A parade of real-life Pearly Kings and Queens was featured at the 2012 Summer Olympics Opening Ceremony.

This evening we dined on succulent slow-roasted duck breasts in plum sauce on Jackie’s splendid savoury rice. I drank Cimarosa Reserva Privada cabernet sauvignon 2015.

Making It Through The Winter

CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE. THOSE IN GROUPS ACCESS GALLERIES THAT CAN BE VIEWED FULL SIZE.

Once the heavy overnight frost fringing these heuchera leaves had thawed, the garden was warmed by the sun

which was low enough to light lily leaves and grasses,

while pearly jewels dripped from naked and semi-clad twigs,

and lingering rose leaves.

Autumn-hued hydrangeas hang on to life.

The first clusters of precocious onion-smelly alliums have pierced the soil,

and a pendulous leycesteria has already produced its kindergarten mobiles.

Shadows slanted across the Shady and

the Brick Paths.

Three winter flowering pink Viburnum Bodnantense Dawn,shrubs are doing what is expected of them.

One camellia has begun to flower and has even provided evidence that some flies are capable of making it through the winter.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s brilliant beef in red wine, boiled new potatoes, and piquant cauliflower cheese. I finished the merlot.

Christmas Fairies

CLICK ON ANY IMAGE TO ACCESS GALLERIES WHICH CAN BE VIEWED FULL SIZE.

This morning we awoke to a garden dripping with decorations supplied by the Christmas fairies, some of whom still flitted among the trees:

This afternoon we are off to Lyndhurst for the last of the Christmas shopping, then on to West End to visit Mum then share a meal with Elizabeth at Jewels Indian restaurant. I don’t expect to have enough oomph left on our return to post any more to day, so will report on anything of moment tomorrow.

It’s Beginning To Look A Little Like Winter

CLICK ON ANY IMAGE TO ACCESS GALLERY THAT CAN BE VIEWED FULL SIZE.

Today’s weather was in complete contrast to yesterday’s. Although it was even warmer, rain persisted throughout the day. For as long as I felt I could risk soaking the camera I crept around the garden with it.

The deciduous trees have now lost most of their leaves; the cryptomeria japonica is sprouting new growth; bright yellow bidens continue to bloom; camellias are beginning to bud; even the blackbirds have kept away from the glistening crab apples. Crazy, I know, but it is beginning to look just a little like winter.

At lunchtime Ian came to collect us and take us, via Emsworth, to Tess’s Christmas event at the Village Shop. Whatever time we get home, I don’t expect to be in a fit state for posting any more, so I’ll do a bit more tomorrow.

The End Of The Roll

CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE THEM. REPEAT IF REQUIRED.

We were promised sunshine and showers today. In the end the rain dominated. Consequently I was unable to cut the grass. There was nothing for it but, with the sun on my back when it did put in an appearance, while being dripped on by the trees, to take advantage of the light to photograph raindrops; then hit the massive ironing pile.

The Chilean lantern bush is on the left of the Gazebo Path, and the yellow bottle brush one to the right. The eucalyptus is in flower.

The bottle brushes were well washed;

as was the rhododendron that has bloomed in the Phantom Bed since these views from the Heligan Path and the Brick Path were last featured.

These sweet peas are now adorning the arch to our right.

Peonies heads are too heavy to be raised

in the Palm Bed, so named for the cordyline Australis.

From the Oval Path to the right can be seen Elizabeth’s bed with its bright pink hydrangea;

and straight ahead through to the Rose Garden, where

Mum in a Million

and Margaret Merrill have both washed their faces.

This day lily in Margery’s Bed has just had a shower.

Between shirts I nipped out to photograph this view across the Kitchen Bed from the Patio.

This afternoon I scanned the last few frames on the Devon September 1983 holiday roll of colour negative film featured yesterday, when Mary observed that an image of Jessica and Louisa warranted a close up. This is the next shot in which I have

first cropped the background,

then brought the subjects into close-up.

Once released, Louisa was quite clear where she wanted to go,

but not quite so confident when negotiating the terrain,

which hadn’t fazed Sam at all.

Here is Jessica shortly before we left.

Back home, our daughter adopted the usual exhausted mode.

Jackie having returned from her three days away, we dined on Mr Pink’s fish and chips, pickled onions and gherkins, followed by Dorset Apple Cake brought back from Tolpuddle. Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank Reserve des Tuguets Madiran 2012.

Tears And Laughter

Today was mostly dull and wet, although fleeting sunlight did appear occasionally, for instance to brighten limp, tearful, irises on our back drive,

or to reveal this insect I assumed to be a hoverfly drying off in a hedge in the Lyndhurst car park. The yellow/orange may help entomologists to be certain of the identity.

Through the rain, we had made an abortive visit to buy a birthday present to supplement jewellery bought at Christmas, when the shop had been making a big display of the range we sought. They don’t do them any more. We returned home and were cheered up by a welcome visit from Shelly and Ron who, since they were about to go away, brought early birthday presents for Jackie.

In the meantime I scanned another batch of colour slides from the summer of 1980.

In July Jessica still needed to prop Sam’s head up, either with her hand,

or by the more usual across the shoulder method.

A number of portraits were made on 2nd August.

Here is Becky, probably gazing upon her new brother.

Jessica certainly was.

I’m not sure what had grabbed Michael’s attention;

or, indeed, Sam’s –

whatever that was, it was worth a laugh.

This evening’s chicken was marinaded in honey and mustard, and delightful it was too; served with mashed potato, carrots, runner beans and ratatouille. Lemon tart and cream was to follow. Jackie drank Hoegaarden, and I drank more of the Fleurie.

Precipitation

AS ALWAYS, CLICK ON ANY IMAGE YOU WISH TO ENLARGE. REPEAT IF REQUIRED

Keeping out of the kitchen this morning was just not an option. The enticing aromas of tonight’s dinner would not permit it. Preparation of Jackie’s delicious chicken jalfrezi was under way. The spicy fragrance and enticing colours of food from the Indian sub-continent would, if necessary, compensate for lack of taste. They don’t even have to think about that, for their flavours are second to none.

Initially I resisted, until the bubbling sauce got the better of me;

and the tomato puree added rich colour.

Jackie normally likes to fry the chopped chicken pieces separately, but they had not been defrosted in time, so

in they slid,

and the tempting mixture continued cooking, until,

with the addition of ample chicken stock, the pan simmered away the early part of the afternoon,

until the lid was removed to release the condensed liquid and allow the meal to thicken up.

Heavy overnight rain and a thick cloud layer rendered the garden an inverted version of the pan lid. When the precipitation ceased

a bedraggled fly still sought shelter among the liquid drops on the crab apple blossom;

our first large blue clematis bloom had taken a battering;

and the first offerings of an early rhododendron,

rose Shropshire Lad,

and tree peony, were all somewhat soggy.

Early this evening the weather was dry enough for us to sit in the rose garden for pre-dinner drinks. The higher and brighter notes of the small birds combined with the deeper ones of the wood pigeons, against the repeated refrain of The Needles lighthouse fog warning.

A weeping Madame Alfred Carriere had popped out during the day,

in time to catch the mist rolling in from the sea.

Meat samosas, egg fried rice, and paneer in a curry sauce, were served with the aforementioned stependous jalfrezi. Sticky toffee pudding and cream was to follow. Jackie drank Hoegaarden, and I started another bottle of the Cotes du Rhone.

‘What Else Can you Do On A Rainy Day?’

CLICKING ON IMAGES, TWICE IF NECESSARY, WILL ENLARGE THEM.

It rained steadily all day, so we decided to take another large bag of garden waste to Efford Recycling Centre.

Almost immediately we were held in a long tailback trailing down Christchurch Road. Clearly there were roadworks ahead. Eventually the sight of a yellow cherry picker on the other side of the road, its operator vanishing into foliage on high, confirmed what we had begun to suspect. Yes, it was our old friends BT/Open Reach engineers fixing an outage. Even worse, there was another further along the thoroughfare. (As I typed this, we lost our connection. Sod’s law.)

I had suggested the trip because I thought there wouldn’t be many people patronising the dump on such a day. I was wrong.

We sat in possibly the longest queue for a dump we have experienced. It offered no convenience.

I ventured to suggest this had not been such a good idea after all. My lady kindly replied with ‘What else can you do on a rainy day?’.

Eventually we unloaded our clippings. I attempted to get straight back into the car. But. Jackie didn’t. She was off to the Sales Area where she bought a stack of plain white plates and two white metal lanterns. Whilst she was in the undercover section,

I thought it would be a hoot to sneak off and buy the smaller of these, which I did. The Head Gardener then spotted the second, which it would have been unkind to have left on its own. Both were beautifully weathered. So it had been worth the trip after all.

Not wishing to join the traffic queue back home, we took a diversion around Sway and Tiptoe. As usual in such weather, ponies were largely absent, presumably sheltering deep within the forest.

A string of cattle, however, stubbornly cropped the heathland. Presumably in an attempt to keep reasonably dry they walked along at an unusually steady pace as they chomped.

A few loners, not minding soggy hooves, paddled in the ditches.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s succulent beef and onion pie, crunchy carrots, Brussels sprouts, runner beans, and new potatoes. She drank Hoegaarden and I partook of Bodega Toneles 22 malbec 2012.