rudbeckias – derrickjknight

Still Taking It Easy

Last night before going to bed I watched the highlights of the second day of the second test match between England and Sri Lanka.

On this warm, gloomy-overcast day, to the accompaniment of a few neighbouring tweeting birds, largely silent bees, and an occasional distant barking dog, I toted my camera on two very short trips around the garden.

Along with her general pot refurbishment and general tidying

Jackie has planted up the bulbs bought yesterday;

her equipment bearing evidence of her labours. She suggests that the pig has moved itself towards the gate in readiness for the coming pannage season.

Beyond the recently planted iron urn extends the Gazebo and Brick Paths from Jackie’s weeded old well surround.

She has recently tracked down a replacement Summer Wine to replace one that died in the Rose Garden.

On Wednesday Martin worked hard clearing a space for it and planted it away from the original site because it is inadvisable to reposition one in the same spot.

Pink chrysanthemums; blue convolvuluses; white begonias, cyclamen, and antirrhinums are rivalled by the Nottingham Castle bench lichen.

We have all colours of Japanese anemone;

and dahlias;

other roses include Absolutely Fabulous and Lady Emma Hamilton.

The Rose Garden continues to flourish.

The rudbeckias sit well behind the pinkish peeling eucalyptus bark.

The Weeping Birch Bed leads through the cryptomeria to Florence sculpture on Fiveways.

More Japanese anemones photobomb the Brick Path and blend well with the iron urn’s pink petunias.

This evening we dined on succulent chicken Kiev; boiled new potatoes; firm carrots, cauliflower, and broccoli; and tender chopped cauliflower leaves with which I drank riserva privada Chilean Malbec 2022.

A Change Of Diet

The morning was dry with bouts of sunshine when

Jackie wandered around the garden with her camera. She went out to photograph the Amistad salvia but got carried away and also pictured agapanthus seeds, dahlias, rudbeckias, roses, clerodendrum trichotomum, begonias, fuchsias, sedum, phlox; and a fly, wasps, and a shield bug perched on ivy flowers. As usual individual titles appear in the gallery which can be enlarged by clicking on any image.

On our afternoon drive we witnessed dramatic skies releasing a number of heavy showers as seen descending from the louring clouds in two of these images and producing at least one rainbow. The last three of these pictures were taken from Beaulieu Road on our way home. The first two from Coombe Lane, Sway where

sunlight picked out the autumn colours in the trees as a lone horse walked down its sloping field.

The first shower sent a group of ponies alongside the Brockenhurst road to shelter as close to the trees as possible.

Pannage pigs munching on sweet chestnuts brought a number of visitors’ cars to a halt in order to disgorge their drivers and passengers to watch and photograph the animals delighting in their change of diet from the more available acorns.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s delicious sausage, liver, and bacon casserole; creamy mashed potato; firm and flavoursome Brussels sprouts; crunchy carrots; and tender runner beans, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Cotes du Rhone.

“Turncoat”

The air this morning when we set about further post-storm garden recovery work hung humid and eerily still.

Concentrating on the patio area and the sweet peas corner of the kitchen wall, Jackie trimmed the Lathyrus odoratus and extricated the strangled tomato plant. From less than polite expressions of intense disappointment yesterday when discovering broken geranium stems, her exclamations have been the more optimistic “ah, another cutting”. The greenhouse is going to be pretty full this winter.

Naturally Nugget kept her company.

Where’s Nugget? An easier puzzle today.

Elsewhere pelargoniums, petunias, rudbeckias, and hoverflies sharing a poppy enjoyed the early sunshine.

My task was dead-heading roses in the Rose Garden where

heavy bees clambered over the tiny blooms of the verbena bonarensis;

Lady Emma Hamilton laid her head on the block;

Jacqueline du Pré played on;

a hoverfly flew to the Blue Moon;

Crown Princess Margareta bustled voluminously;

Summer Wine was drunk with joy;

and Absolutely Fabulous certainly was.

Eventually leaden skies and heavy rain brought us inside. When Jackie heard that Nugget, whom she had missed, had come to join me, she uttered “turncoat”.

By mid-afternoon the skies had cleared and the weather brightened. We drove to Ringwood for Jackie to buy some new garments from M & Co. and returned home via the forest.

At first we progressed north along Avon Way and turned right into sun-dappled Sky Lane.

A severed string of ponies spanning the road at Ibsley left space for one passing vehicle or a young neophyte equestrian to thread a way through.

Several donkey families were stationed outside Hyde School. One couple seemed to be waiting to register their foal in advance of its reaching the age of admission;

another little one enjoyed a scratch on the road junction. An alarming driver turning the corner blasted his horn at the unperturbed animal which took no notice. I might have heard it borrowing Catherine Tate’s line: “Do I look bothered?” as, peeking over its flanks, it nonchalantly nibbled its hide.

The loud blast of a foghorn behind me alerted me to an agitated mother ushering her infant across the road at quite a rate.

As we returned through Ibsley the ponies, now on the move, tails twitching, like sensible walkers faced the oncoming traffic.

This evening Elizabeth visited because her phones weren’t working and she needed to phone Mum, which she did from my mobile which was coincidentally being charged up. Naturally, beginning with drinks on the patio, she stayed for dinner which consisted of Jackie’s tasty tender beef and mushroom pie; crunchy cauliflower, carrots, and cabbage; and new potatoes. The Culinary Queen drank Hoegaarden while my sister and I drank Casillero del Diablo reserva Shiraz 2017.

Aaron Knows The Score

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We have experienced an intermittently leaky kitchen extension roof since we arrived here. The amount of infiltration has depended upon the wind direction rather than the quantity of precipitation. One person has already allegedly repaired it – not very effectively.

Sid, a very personable extra pair of hands, has joined Aaron in AP Maintenance. Today he mixed up cement and mended the roof properly.

Aaron pruned a straggly climbing rose, and cleared more of the West Bed including stripping dead and intrusive growth from another palm, and sawing off an exposed tree stump we hadn’t known was there. When I told him that Sid had spotted a cracked tile and asked if we had any more, and I had replied that we had, but I would need to ask Jackie where they were, Aaron gave her yet another title. “The Maintenance Department”, said our friend, who knows the score.

Just to show willing, I assisted The Head Gardener in her general maintenance tasks this afternoon by occupying myself dead-heading.

This is, of course, the season for showy dahlias

bright, bushy, chrysanthemums,

and snaking nasturtiums;

but I am surprised to see honeysuckle rising again in both back and front gardens.

Geraniums

and begonias cling on to life;

and fuchsias like Mrs Popple dangle away.

We have some multicoloured Rudbeckia;

the aptly named salvia Hot Lips;

and long-lived cosmoses.

The apparently everlasting For Your Eyes Only keeps company in the Rose Garden with

fresh flushes of Love Knot,

Laura Ford,

and Mamma Mia.

The Small White butterflies are still enjoying the verbena bonarensis,

and bees still gather pollen provided by such as this clematis.

This evening we returned to the Turfcutter’s Arms

for a roast pork dinner. Jackie drank Peroni and enjoyed a chocolate sponge dessert with ice cream; my choices were Ringwood’s Best and fruit crumble with custard.

“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.

Fading Beauty

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This was a glorious sunny day with the warmth of mid-summer. Bees and butterflies abounded in the garden. It was a good day for wandering around, but that is all we felt inclined to do. We can defer the winter preparation until it feels more like autumn.

This was either a midget bee, or a baby hoverfly flitting among the Japanese anemones.

Here are two views of the Dragon Bed showing bidens, petunia, hydrangea,

and more Japanese anemones.

For Your Eyes Only continues to bloom.

The Oval Path lies alongside the rose garden, leading to Elizabeth’s Bed. Here we have dahlias, hydrangeas, and one of the many fuchsias;

another of which hangs beneath the wisteria.

Here is the Gazebo Path from the south. The new rudbeckias are still waiting for the demise of the nicotiana.

The Weeping Birch Bed looks towards the back drive,

alongside the entrance to which is the New Bed, still full of colour. Sweet peas flower to the left of the arch.

Prompted by https://rakmilphotography.wordpress.com/ I used my 50mm lens for most of these shots.

We are in the presence of fading beauty.

For dinner this evening, Jackie produced smoked haddock, piquant cauliflower cheese, and carrots and runner beans al dente. We finished the Gros Manseng.

A Cock-Fight

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On another hot day with a glorious cloudless blue sky, Jackie and I spent the morning shopping for birthday presents for Shelly and for Poppy.

First stop was Otter Nurseries where we bought a couple of skimmias for Jackie’s sister,

and two interesting new bronzed rudbeckias for ourselves. There are plenty of buds on these latter plants for the Head Gardener to bring to perfection in a very short time.

We felt rather sad at the emptiness of such a large, splendidly stocked, outlet on such a day. This was a clear indication that the seasons are changing.

Sammy Miller’s Motorcycle Museum in Bashley Common Road was the next venue. This, we thought, was a suitable establishment at which to find girlie items for Shelly and for our granddaughter.

You may well be surprised at this, if you don’t know that the outbuildings of the museum contain a number of shops attractive to tourists. Whilst I wandered around outside, Jackie bought a pastel blue quartz necklace for her sister, and another item suitable for a one-year old.

There were many motorcycles parked in their dedicated area. This one is alongside one of the antique petrol pumps that line the walls.

Snacks and drinks were being enjoyed in the shopping precinct which was generously supplied with garden ornaments including this milk cart;

a farm cart;

and various items of farm machinery;

more of which was distributed among the animals on the borders of the site.

A paddle of ducks welcomes cool shade and a running stream

There are basking goats, two of which really stink like their cheese.

Chickens seem oblivious to this.

A vociferous rooster crows continuously.

Leaving his lady-love in the shade of his shed,

a plumage plumped turkey

made his sedate and purposeful way along the front of the pen.

Coming to a halt at a wire window he silently confronted the occupant.

‘Fight. Fight. Fight’, cried the rooster, summoning the chicken audience

as the confrontation continued.

A farmhand explained the situation. Earlier this morning, there had, indeed, been a cock-fight over the hen. That is why the unfortunate challenger was penned up. These creatures are capable of inflicting serious damage in their duels.

This evening we dined at The Raj in Old Milton. My main course was Chingri Bullet with giant prawns that must surely have been indulged with Jackie’s plant food. Jackie’s was chicken sag. We shared special fried rice, a paratha, and an onion bahji; and both drank Kingfisher.