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“The only time I can hear birdsong is when I’m sitting on the loo”.
When Jackie, delivering this sentence yesterday to her sisters in Milford’s Polly’s Pantry, became aware that she had raised her voice – as she told me this morning – she had hoped other customers had not heard this taken out of context. Having been beset by building works on one side of our garden and hedge-cutting on the other, that, opening statement was indeed true. This is because baby sparrows in the nest in our extractor fan are currently clamouring for the food parents are bringing home. Even while the fan is operating, a clunk, as the meals on wings arrive, is followed by intense tweets that would put Mr Trump to shame. Two adults proceed in non-stop convoy throughout the day.
When we first arrived here four years ago the front garden trellis bore quite weedy specimens of pink and red rambling roses, clematises and honeysuckle. Heavy pruning and nurturing has resulted in a splendid floral wall. The roses, in particular, shelter the entrance to the nest from view.
As always, the birds do not fly straight to the nest, but perch somewhere nearby to recce the surroundings before diving in. Our foraging parents choose first to alight on the trellis foliage. This morning, Jackie watched the proceedings through the hall window and photographed the birds transporting wriggling beakfuls of juicy breakfast.
Now, I may have put all this together and added my twopenn’orth, but this is quite clearly Jackie’s post.
This evening we dined on beef burgers, onions, carrots, cabbage, and mashed potato with tasty gravy.
The wind kept up this morning, but the rain did not return until this afternoon. The light changed by the minute.
As the sunshine came and went, I had to be patient to take this photograph of the front garden trellis which held solanum, roses, rose hips, petunias, lobelia, nasturtiums, and cotoneaster. Only the clematis and honeysuckle have faded from sight.
We took a trip to Highcliffe beach. A pair of dogs romped along the clifftop,
where the sign warning of crumbling cliffs will probably need to be moved further inland.
When checking on the parking fees, Jackie was greeted by a fairly faint rainbow.
A building worker shared his breakfast with the grateful gulls, and
the rainbow shifted in his direction.
Pools rippled in the car park, against which
the Isle of Wight and The Needles were virtually misted from sight.
One young man stood and watched the
choppy seas
and cloudy skies.
I only needed to turn my head inland to look down on walkers bathed in woodland sunshine;
and twist again for a view of the light on the coastline to my left
and the sight of a dog that probably didn’t belong to the surfboard carrier.
Leaving the scrub behind me,
Down steps
and slopes I descended
to the shore.
On the way down I watched a jogger and dog-walker pass each other.
The woman with the dog went on to cross paths with a couple on a lower level,
and a young lady gradually overhauled another pair, as they passed the Lifeguards’ hut.
Waves sprayed the breakwaters, and, unhindered,
rolled onto the shingle, now at my feet.
Across to my right was a clear view of Mudeford Spit and Sandbank leading to Hengistbury Head. The beach huts visible in this photograph cost as much as £275,000. That’s right. £275,000.
According to metro.co.uk this one went on the market in July this year for £280,000. The article informs us that:
‘For £280,000 you could buy a four-bedroom detached house in Huddersfield or two three-bed cottages with an acre of land in the village of Maerdy, South Wales.
The sandbank can only be accessed by a 20 minute walk, a ride on a novelty land train or by ferry but its isolated position is what gives it its exclusivity and value.
Beach hut owners have to share communal bathroom facilities and can only sleep in the huts between March and October, but can visit any time of year.
Worth a quarter of a million? BNPS
Hut 78 is in a handy location close to the ferry jetty and the communal facilities.
It looks out Christchurch Harbour where the new owners will be able to enjoy stunning sunsets.
The timber home measures 16ft 7in by 10ft 2in and comfortably sleeps four, with a double bed in a mezzanine level.
Solar panels on the roof power the fridge and lights, the cooker runs on bottled gas and there is a water tank that feeds into the kitchen sink.’
As I climbed back up to the car park, another couple of walkers greeted me and continued along their path.
I rejoined Jackie who drove us on to Barton on Sea. From there we were called back home in a hurry. We had been told by our mortgage lender to expect a call this morning from a surveyor coming to value the house. His call would be to arrange a viewing. He did call me. He was outside our house. He had been given a time to be there. We hadn’t.
I guided the gentleman round the house and garden. We then returned to New Milton for some shopping and banking, and brunched at Wendy’s excellent café. Then the rain came.
For dinner this evening Jackie produced a tasty fish pie, mashed potato, carrot and swede mash, and sautéed leeks, peppers, and green beans. She drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Fleurie.
I watered the pots in the front garden this morning.
More pink roses bloom on the trellis each day;
and clematis Piilu
and a tiny solanum are now making their way across the garage door frontage.
New arrivals in the Rose Garden include Mamma Mia,
Rosa Mundi,
and Deep Secret;
and my favourite rhododendron is coming to fruition.
The peach rose is reaching its peak,
and attracting bees.
This afternoon we took Sheila on a forest driveabout to the North of the forest.
A group of ponies on the far side of Burley ignored a Give Way sign as they held up the traffic.
While we were watching another group, including a couple of foals, drinking in the stream at Ibsley,
an alarming neighing was set up by two other adults of these normally silent animals. There was a clattering of hooves on the tarmac to our right, and a thudding on the sward on the other side of the water, as the spooked ponies scattered. The foals clambered up the bank at the calls of their dams. This one nuzzled its relieved parent.
These creatures reconvened on the road.
Meanwhile others tore frantically around the field until a loose collie dog ran off and joined its owners out of sight. The horses then quietly regrouped under the trees.
Some homeowners leave carrots out for ponies. This mother crunched on one, whilst her foal satisfied itself with grass to the right of the cattle grid protecting the house entrance.
As I disembarked from the car, the youngster made its way back to its Mum,
and had a scratch under the protection of her flanks.
We stopped off for a drink at The Royal Oak in North Gorley, then Sheila treated us to a meal at The Plough in Tiptoe. We all chose gammon steak, eggs, chips, and peas. My drink was Ringwoods Best Bitter. Probably because I had also had a pint at The Royal Oak, I wasn’t able to fit in a dessert.
Today continued wet and warm, but not so windy, so Jackie was able to reorganise her plants fronting the garage.
This prompted me to produce a variation on the before and after theme. We were never going to use the garage for its original purpose. Soon after our arrival overnight on 31st March/1st April 2014 we began to clear and clean the area, full of rickety metal shelving, containing, among other things, pots of paint, oils, and other unpleasant materials leaking all over the floor on which some of it had coagulated.
I dumped all the shelving in the garden, as one wall at a time was made ready for our IKEA bookshelves.
The first were in place by 7th April.
Michael had given us a carpet that we thought would fit the room, but on 17th April it still lay alongside boxes of books that I found far too daunting to lift.
When Matthew visited on 26th, shifted all the cartons, and laid the carpet, it was a huge relief.
Most of the shelves were in situ four days later. Jackie did most of the assembling. We positioned a sheath of disused IKEA wardrobe sections between the back three and the garage doors.
I just had to sort out the books.
This was the progress by 1st May,
Six days later, the job was done.
Jackie’s sister Shelly, had fostered the potted garden Jackie had created around our Minstead flat. We reclaimed this on 7th June, and positioned the plants in front of the garage.
By 11th July that same year, it was established in its new home.
As it is now the time to tidy up for the winter, Jackie bought some wooden trellis to replace the lower, wrought iron structure. She fixed this up today;
and recycled the iron to extend the piece by the side of the house at the front.
Jackie produced tender roast lamb, crunchy roast potatoes, and crisp carrots and green beans for this evening’s dinner. Dessert was perfect apple crumble with evap.
As I wandered around the garden this morning, a Speckled Wood butterfly flitted across my path and settled, to cast its shadow, on the outside of the sitting room wall.
Like the roses
Absolutely Fabulous, still living up to its name,
and Chris Beardshaw, just needing a bit of a trim,
it still enjoys the sunshine.
Here is the next section of the series charting the progress in the garden.
The Head Gardener’s Walk links into the Shady Path, seen here first on 7th, then 19th May 2014. This path, although now opened up to the light is so named because it was then mostly in deep shade.
This was one of the first paths we had begun to clear. By 27th July, we had reset the extant Victorian edge tiles, and thinned out invasive euphorbias, some of the roots of which were quite stubborn.
The following day Jackie was able to relax on the Ace Reclaim bench that we had bought from that architectural salvage outlet.
Here, on 5th September, Jackie is working on clearing the bed on the opposite side.
This is what the Shady Path looked like on 20th October 2015. The trellis in the background now borders the refurbished decking.
In preparation for the winter which is bound to come, and in particular for the twice-yearly tampering with the clocks which results in earlier darkness, The Head Gardener needed lighting in her shed. Off we went to ScrewFix in Lymington and bought a battery operated lamp.
On our return Ron and Shelly arrived to help sort out the problem I am still having sending the party photographs to Ray Salinger. His son transferred them to a memory stick. Our visitors stayed for dinner.
As attractive as the taste of Indian food is its colour and its aromas. The fragrance of Jackie’s superb simmering lamb jalfrezi alongside the fresh scents of the chopped peppers were extremely appetising, so who could resist an invitation to share it.
Jackie drank Kingfisher and the rest of us shared a bottle of Mu red wine 2013 that Ron had brought back from Spain.
As the morning sunlight gradually scaled the beech tree to the left, it exposed the changing nature of the weeping birch, the leaves of which are beginning to blend with the gravel of the Heligan Path.
Aaron and Robin completed work on the decking, which included Aaron’s own idea of the steps, made from offcuts of the planks. The intention is to train plants around the trellis.
It was a day for recycling. Jackie and I built a temporary cold frame for the winter, from offcuts of Elizabeth’s conservatory roofing, concrete slabs, and old bricks.
Automata are mechanical figures designed to move in certain ways when set off at the turn of a handle. As an art form these date from very early times, and are, at least in The First Gallery at Bitterne, near Southampton, enjoying a resurgence of interest. Our friends Margery and Paul Clarke, the proprietors, have long featured such works in their exhibitions, and have just finished one devoted entirely to these intriguing and entertaining constructions. At the close of this event they gave a party to celebrate this and their 40th year of exhibiting. Naturally we attended.
The gallery in their home was filled with fascinating pieces, all hand-made with marvellous moving parts. Examples are:
Horse Box with Bird,
A Friendly Gesture,
Love Boat,
these three as labelled,
A Cheap Automata Shop,
A Wave Machine,
this group of four,
Three Fishes and Bird,
this one the name of which escapes me,
another being tried out,
these tiny miniatures in their glass case,
and Helluva Guy,
whose creator also made the hanging wooden puppet.
Margery had made a few figures of her own, notably:
Clown,
and Aggie, the very very wicked witch.
Other works included:
Cat and Dog,
Cat by Moonlight,
and Seal Box with Fish.
It was a warm enough day for a number of guests to sit outside,
until all were called in to drink a toast, listen to Margery’s short welcome speech,
and see her cake candle lit.
She then cut the cake which was distributed to follow the excellent soup, numerous canapés and other treats, and various desserts.
After this we visited Mum shortly before her temporary carer arrived to help her cook her dinner. Mum is having a difficult time with her arthritis at the moment and, for the time being, has a carer visiting at mealtimes.
We then went on to Elizabeth’s and spent some time with her before returning home where the contents of the doggie bag given to us last night by the waitress at The Royal China were just the job for our evening meal. I had consumed a glass or two of wine earlier, so was in no need of accompaniment. Jackie drank a Hoegaarden.
Today was a real scorcher. I set off for the rose garden rather early, intending simply to dig a few holes for the plants plonked yesterday. No such luck. The head gardener had already been out there for an hour. On the south side of the entrance arch had straggled two rather unattractive shrubs. Jackie had decided they had to go, and consequently cut them right back. All that was left were one thick trunk and masses of quite mature suckers. After carting her clippings to the burning pile, I set to with fork, axe, and saw, to remove them. This took quite some time, not helped by the pottery shards, CDs, plant labels, and bits of plastic and polystyrene, typical of our predecessors’ composting, that were tangled among the roots. We then boasted a clear trellis on which to plant the next climbing rose.
That was enough for the morning. After a short break Jackie continued watering, and I ambled down to the corner of Roger’s field and back.
Neither of us had known bidens other than the normal yellow,
so we are quite pleased with this unusual variety obtained from Ferndene Farm Shop.
A wayward woodlouse, suspended from a cobweb on a back drive stump, cast a static shadow.
Strong sunlight dappled the tarmac on Downton Lane.
A congealed fried egg on nettle toast in the hedgerow revealed itself to be an over-adventurous snail.
This afternoon we planted yesterday’s floral purchases.
It is hard to credit that the two salvias, and what we hope is a pot-bound dwarf conifer, are occupying the place by the southern fence where a hidden bath stood a year ago.
This climbing hydrangea can tolerate the shade it will receive in the corner by the orange shed. Like our other additions it will grow bigger. The logs in the foreground are part of our insect hotel, which has been temporarily moved by Aaron, pending his last section of paving.
I watched two Wimbledon tennis matches on television. In the first, Novak Djokovic beat Bernard Tomic in straight sets. The second took much longer than anticipated, so we consumed our pasta and meatballs in a tomato based sauce, and salad, from trays on our knees, as we watched a thrilling match in which Serena Williams beat Heather Watson by taking the third set 7 – 5. A red Cotes de Bordeaux 2012 helped to mitigate my excitement. Miraculously, my shirt was unscathed.
