Late this morning a took a walk around the garden with my camera.
We have a number of daffodils and primulas that have survived the ravages of the squirrel in search of tulip bulbs, because Jackie has continually kept putting back disturbed soil.
There is hardly a bed without a cluster of our peripatetic spreading snowdrops sometimes sharing space with
prolific self seeding hellebores,
or a planted pot containing neither violas nor pansies.
Camellias are not the only currently flowering shrubs; we also have a
couple of Daphne Odora Aureomarginata aptly named for their very sweet fragrance.
Bergenias have bloomed throughout the winter.
This afternoon I watched the rugby Six Nations championship match between Italy and France.
Our dinner this evening consisted of baked gammon; boiled new potatoes; crunchy carrots; tender runner beans; moist ratatouille; and piquant cauliflower cheese topped with sliced tomato, with which Jackie drank Diet Coke and I drank more of the Côtes du Rhône Villages.
This afternoon I accompanied Jackie on a visit to Ferndene Farm Shop to buy mushrooms for tonight’s dinner, and we continued on a forest drive.
The view of snowdrops along Beckley Road was blemished by the presence of crushed drink cans, so I looked skywards to bare
branches brightened by the emerging sun.
A pair of mallards now rivalled ponies for occupation of the winterbourne pool at the high point of Pound Lane. While the horses slurped their soup the ducks dived in search of sustenance.
Further down the road we glimpsed a pair of greys foraging in the darkened woodland.
On the road into Burley, her own pony tail swaying with that of her steed, and sporting a jacket bearing the legend TEAM HONG KONG CHINA, we fell in behind a young rider who let us know she was turning off and thanked us for our patience.
Controlled burning of gorse was under way on the moorland alongside Holmsley Passage.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s spicy merguez sausage casserole; boiled potatoes; crunchy carrots; firm cauliflower and its chopped up leaves, with which I drank more of the Shiraz.
photographing a few snowdrops on the circuit round the garden, I practiced with my Nordic walking poles through icy drizzle, taking the same route as yesterday, this time turning back at No. 19 Downton Lane during a total of 14 minutes.
Later I carried out a little iPhotos culling, retaining just three from
For my very first time I have simply copied these extracts from their own website. I could not have expressed them better:
About The Establishment
“Welcome to the Potting Shed! We are so glad that you are considering stopping by, we strive to make each visit truly enjoyable, from the moment you walk through the door to the time you leave.
“Everything we do is for the community we know and love. Whether it is serving the friendly faces we have grown to recognise or using the produce around us. Ultimately, we believe that local is best. Fewer air miles, more heart and 100% satisfaction guarantee.
Homemade
There’s no place like home and, here at The Potting Shed, we firmly believe that a meal out should be a home from home for you. However, we want to do it better. We pride ourselves on being feeders and feeding people on only the best produce, cooked with love, by us, fresh for you.”
The warmth and pleasure expressed above are well matched by the attentive and careful service, as is the quality of the food.
I thoroughly enjoyed my The Full Works breakfast, while Jackie did the same with her Mini version.
Once I had cleared a little space on mine, revealing items at first
covered by the bacon, I photographed it again so further ingredients could be seen – note the tasty pork and leek sausage, black pudding, and hash brown. I had eaten the other half of tomato.
Whilst there is a cattle grid outside preventing direct access from the
donkeys that can usually be encountered around the corner, drivers do sometimes meet them on the way in.
Now for the drive:
The verges and fields were dotted with numerous catkins and
snowdrops, while ponies similarly stippled Blissford Hill.
As I disembarked to photograph alpacas in the Godshill farm they trooped off to collect their dinner.
Ponies, ignoring the fact that the bright sunshine belied the cold weather, soaked up what warmth they could on the Woodgreen common.
From Woodgreen through Hale Purlieu stretches a long straight road with ancient hedgerows. The mossy tree-roots must have witnessed generations of the joggers we often see on their runs, like the two we met today.
Ponies basked in the open woodland opposite the high banks.
The residents of Lover have cooperated with enthusiasm to celebrate the upcoming Valentine’s Day. This small gallery is mine,
supplementing Jackie’s longer one.
The thatcher of this cottage roof has, with the addition of colour, taken the traditional straw animals to a completely new level.
This evening we dined on Ferndene pork and apple sausages, boiled potatoes, parsnips, cauliflower, carrots, broccoli, spinach and gravy, with which I drank more of the Douro
Despite the dreary drizzle-day and thanks to Martin’s weeks of clearance work in the beds there is now no corner of the garden not
brightened by snowdrops and more.
As usual clicking on any image will access the gallery, each item of which can be enlarged and bears a title; some also bearing bumble bees which yesterday had sped freely around the garden. Today, motionless, they cling to a number of plants from which they had sought sustenance then. When I mentioned this to Becky she explained that these insects, not having skeletons, contain fluid beneath their flesh which in cold weather coagulates causing a state of somnolence until liquifying once more on warming up.
Ian returned from Southbourne last night, in time to shop with Becky today for our dinner this this evening. They returned with 6 rib eye steaks; chips, and peas, which Becky cooked to perfection, according to individual choices; with M & S rice and bread and butter puddings to follow. I drank more of the Côtes du Rhône Villages
Bright sunshine casting shadows beneath a clear blue sky shortly before midday when I took a chilly walk around the garden belied the temperatures skirting freezing which, during a current further cold spell below 0 centigrade sending rivulets of condensation from our bedtime breath dripping down walls and misting tightly closed windows until we were able to fling them open and dash shivering downstairs to our electric portable radiators timed to ignite at their lowest heat level an hour before Jackie but perhaps a couple after I expected to emerge.
Snowdrops and hellebores share the limelight with, at a higher level, a
variety of camellias;
daffodils are following up fast;
fern filigrees and honesty seed bud traceries are picked out by the clear light, as are
new shoots from our recently pruned roses.
When we first arrived here the garden of the then abandoned next door house, North Breeze, rampaged through our land, as demonstrated by
Now we have the benefit of attractive, sweet scented, acacia,
currently in bloom, hanging over the Back Drive fence.
This afternoon I watched the Six Nations rugby match between Scotland and France – probably the most impressive contest I have ever seen.
For dinner this evening Jackie produced her omelette-topped egg fried rice on which to bed hot and spicy, and tempura prawn preparations, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Malbec.
The neat stack of bricks beside the Florence sculpture yesterday doesn’t look like two full wheelbarrow loads, but, having wheeled them from behind the old oil tank last week, and having wheeled them back again today, I can assure you it was.
Afterwards, I photographed a few garden views, demonstrating the proliferating snowdrops.
There was still clutter behind Florence.
Afterwards, Dillon and Flo finished the job.
Later, I continued my reminiscences through my older posts and found a photograph I could usefully add to the text of
This evening we dined on Jackie’s tasty beef pie in shortcrust pastry with roast potatoes, crunchy carrots and tender runner beans, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I finished The Guv’nor.
Norman’s Heating men installed our new oil tank today, left it half full with clean fuel, and attempted to fire up the boiler which they found needed a new fuel pump.
I left a message for Elaine at Tom Sutton Heating asking her to ask Stuart to bring a new pump when he comes to service our system in a week’s time.
In the dying light of a dull day I photographed clematis Cirrhosa, snowdrops, camellia buds, verbena, and Daphne Odorata.
We are somewhat confined to barracks at the moment because an unpleasant acrid smell has indicated that the Modus brakes are binding and can’t be fixed until 1st March.
In keeping with the nature of the rest of this post, I published https://derrickjknight.com/2023/02/20/droll-tales-8/
This evening we all dined on oven fish, chips, and onion rings; pickled onions and cornichons; and mushy peas, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Cabernet Zinfandel.
Yesterday Martin made further progress on the completed patio.
His paving pattern is laid ready for grouting; sleepers are in place;
the step up to the Dead End Path is progressing;
and the steps into the house are ready to be boxed in.
Today I cleared the area between the oil tank and the garden shed in readiness for the new container due to be installed on Monday. The black bags in the foreground are two of three more destined for recycling at Otter Nurseries.
I am temporarily storing further materials on the Shady Path. In the bottom right hand corner of this picture can be seen a small crocus closed up because this was late in the day, and a few of the swathes
of snowdrops now blooming.
Camellias continue to do so,
as do hellebores and irises..
Later, I recovered images and set header pictures for the following two posts:
