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I spent a considerable number of frustrating hours attempting to secure internet access today. I will not bore anyone with the details. Looking on the bright side, I decided to tackle the paperwork for my annual tax return. This went quite well until I tackled my bank statements, which I receive on a quarterly basis. The most recent batch has not arrived. “No problem.” I thought. “Now I bank on line I can take the necessary details from there”. …………… “Ah……..”.
There was now nothing for it but to wander round the garden with my camera in hand and a mobile phone in my pocket. There are, of course, less pleasant ways of spending my time.
The clematis Montana now drapes the front wall upon which a trough of blue pansies smile; the potentilla now dances with the vinca.
The sweet scent of the wisteria pervades the area beneath its arbour.
Buds of blue irises and red poppies are simply biding their time.
While I wandered and emptied a trug or two into the compost, Jackie continued replenishing soil and planting in beds and containers.
These verbascum look down on similarly hued Erigeron,
just as the cow parsley soars above everything else in the Dragon Bed.
In the Kitchen Bed’s stone urn white pansies bridge the season of faded white daffodils and that of clematis Marie Boisselot, whose buds can be observed in the obelisk behind.
The first of the geranium Palmatums, which will soon arrive in abundance, has lined up along the Shady Path in line with heucheras,
on the leaves of which a hebe casts its shadow.
Erigeron, aquilegias, vinca, alliums, and silenes crowd each other in the Weeping Birch Bed,
as do aubretia and wild strawberries in the Oval Bed opposite.
Small White butterflies flitted about.
Rosariae de L’Hay enlivens its corner of the Rose Garden.
This afternoon, until I was back on line, I continued reading John Le Carré’s The Night Manager.
Dinner this evening consisted of Jackie’s excellent pasta arrabbiata with which she drank Hoegaarden and I consumed A Dark Apothic 2015 Californian red.
