Tag: tulips

A Fast Learner

This afternoon, along with Danni, Ella, and Jack, we all visited Elizabeth for another Easter Egg Hunt. With a few contributions from Jackie, my sister had excelled herself in the plentiful sandwiches, snacks, fresh salad, gingerbread men, cakes, biscuits, and soft drinks with red and white wines which we consumed before letting the children loose to seek out what the Easter Bunny had hidden round the garden.

Ella, now 5, was really the expert finder, yet was very generous in distributing her trophies among the younger children. Mind you, as can be seen from this gallery, Ellie was no slouch in finding her own. In the few days since Easter Sunday she has twigged what to do with her finds. Never mind the bag, rip the paper off, stick that into a waiting adult’s hand, cram the egg into her mouth, and eye up the next one.

It is clear she is a fast learner.

Jackie says she might want a snack later, but I will need nothing more this evening.

Shirt Sleeves Sunshine

This morning, accompanied by returning birdsong, I took a trip round the garden, occupied by numerous flying insects like these

bees drawn to euphorbia.

Martin’s tireless efforts of cutting back shrubbery, trimming and training roses throughout the winter have opened up

views throughout the garden.

Quite apart from their having no right to be in bloom this early these on the patio have survived all that the elements have thrown at them during the last few days;

these Lilac Wonders in the Palm Bed are better protected.

Numerous daffodils flourish,

as do forget-me-nots, wallflowers, and our first bluebells.

A range of camellias continue to carpet the ground beneath them.

It was definitely warm enough for shirt sleeves – and for me.

This afternoon, while Dillon was passing his driving test, I watched the Women’s Six Nations rugby matches between Scotland and France and between England and Wales.

Becky came home with Dillon and we all dined on another of Jackie’s cottage pies, carrots, runner beans, and broccoli stems, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Sangiovese & Syrah Toscana.

This evening we all dined on (another of Jackie’s cottage pies, carrots, cauliflower, and broccoli stems, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Sangovese/Syrah red wine) Merril’s comment exposes why the section in brackets was added.

Seasonal Juxtaposition

Ellie loves pens, pencils, and drawing. She also has her favourite pictures and likes to combine the two.

She crams as many as she can into each hand and wanders around with them, occasionally sitting with them into her “hidey” place behind the velvet sitting room curtains, where she enjoys adding her own embellishments to adults’ drawings and photographs.

Close scrutiny of her copy of her favourite photograph will reveal Ellie’s fine lines on “Granny”Jackie’s knitted jerkin and on “GramGram” Becky’s neck.

Our front garden currently accommodates both the early blooms of Amanogawa cherry and the lingering prunus Subhirtella “Autumnalis”;

the continuing prolific camellias are seen alongside the magnolia “Vulcan” and the white viburnum, one of several in flower since Christmas;

Pale pink tulips, a bright pink hyacinth, and “Jetfire” daffodils jointly brighten the beds. Such are some of our unusual seasonal floral juxtapositions.

This afternoon I watched the Six Nations rugby matches between Ireland and Scotland and between Wales and Italy.

Becky is visiting Scotland with the Grandfamily for the weekend, but had left good portions of her tasty spaghetti Bolognese meal for Jackie and me to finish for tonight’s dinner with which I drank more of the Shiraz.

Equine Stand Off

This morning I upgraded the following two posts from Classic to Block edit, changing the category of the first to Garden:

Destruction Of Tulips
‘Get Two’

On a breezy, largely overcast, afternoon with glimpses of peeking sun, I wandered around the garden with a camera, pulling up the occasional weed. Each image, including daffodils, tulips, wallflowers, primroses, cowslips, and fritillaries, bears a title in the gallery.

Late this afternoon we were able to collect the repaired Modus and celebrate with a short forest drive in light rain.

At the top of Holmsley Passage a bunch of ponies appeared to be settling down for the night.

One persistent mare had made it rather difficult for me to disembark as she persisted in trying to replace me in the passenger seat. She then stalked me closely, until I managed to escape,

when she turned her attention to scratching on the wing mirror,

and expressing her feelings about being photographed at this activity.

Still stubborn, she planted herself in front of our car until Jackie managed to get round her and drive off up the road, returning for me when the coast was clear.

This evening we all dined on a KFC Bargain Bucket, sweetcorn, coleslaw, and baked beans, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Fleurie.

A Close Look

This morning, I converted the following posts from Classic to Block edits:

A Fascinating Collage
Nearly There
Twelfth Impression
Not Lost After All

For those who are wondering, the reason I have to do this is that anyone now clicking on the Classic edit pictures, perhaps to enlarge them, will access a message claiming that there is Nothing There.

On a bright, sunny, yet cool afternoon shared with various flying insects, I took a close look at the flowers in the garden.

Each image, including cherry blossom, bees on euphorbia, a damselfly on a leaf, camellias, magnolia Vulcan, primulas, honesty, daffodils, tulips, muscari, epimedium, wallflowers, cowslips, spirea, Japanese maple, and weeping birch catkins, is labelled in the gallery.

One tree that we inherited from our predecessors has never before produced more than one blossom in the ten years we have been here. Today it has a fine display. We think it is a plum.

This evening we all dined on succulent roast gammon; crisp roast potatoes; piquant cauliflower cheese; crunchy carrots; tender cabbage and cauliflower leaves, with which I drank The Second Fleet Coonawarra Cabernet Merlot Petit Verdot 2021, Jackie abstained, and the young family all drank fruit juice.

Trees Toppled

It was all go at Old Post House this morning. At 7 a.m. Ian and a companion from CSG cleaning services pumped out our septic tank; between 9 and 10 Ronan of Tom Sutton Heating had another attempt to stir our last radiator on the system into life; at 9.30 Martin arrived for whole day’s shift in the garden.

Despite, or maybe because of the bright sunshine, finger-tingling-chill crisped the air.

More tulips are blooming.

Varieties of daffodil keep on coming. The up-market cat, perhaps Persian of some sort, from No. 5 Downton Lane remains persistent in dislodging the fence planks along the Back Drive intended to deter marauders. We hope it reduces rodent infiltrators.

Mahonia thrives on the more sunlit side of our rear entrance. Hellebores are ubiquitous.

Wandering along the paths I noticed several of Camellia’s pink carpets, and that the Weeping Birch will soon be in leaf.

Soon after we arrived here some of our small trees gave up the ghost and we shrouded them with climbing plants, such as clematis and roses.

Recent storms have finally toppled two of them.

Here, Martin concentrates on a prunus pissardii, first clearing it, then strengthening supports for the plants that had festooned it. The last picture in this gallery is “Where’s Martin? (4)”.

This evening we dined on another of Jackie’s wholesome cottage pie; crunchy carrots, and firm cauliflower and broccoli, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank Puglia Nero di Troia 2020.

Clean Air Blooms

This morning, after mending the wooden side gate,

Martin continued working his way along the West Bed. He cut back dead plant stems, weeded, and dug up brambles and other such invaders, bagging them for burning when the weather is dry enough.

I wandered around photographing garden views and flowers, each of which is entitled in the tiled gallery.

Perhaps the most pleasing flowers are those fashioned by the lichen clinging to the Nottingham Castle bench. This replica has travelled with me for three decades in various residences from Newark to Downton via London. As a tribute to the clean air of the forest this is the first home in which it has scattered its blooms.

I spent the afternoon on picture recovery of:

Islington
Durmast House Gardens
A Knight’s Tale (52: My Secondment)

I recategorised the second as Garden.

This evening we all dined on Jackie’s wholesome chicken and vegetable stewp and fresh baguettes, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Shiraz

To Feather The Nest

Jackie and I drove to Abbotsfield Garden in Bennett’s Lane, Burley, which was open under the National Gardens Scheme, where private gardens are open to the public.

Each of these pictures is titled in the gallery.

Jackie photographed me while I was going around with my camera and she

was seated with cake at a table beneath a fine red Japanese maple.

She also pictured her lemon drizzle cake and the NGS programme; potted succulents, bedded ferns and

another garden scene with an emphasis on the camouflaged shed housing the pump

serving the carp pool

which reflected

a splendid clump of Arum lilies, while photographing which, I also pictured

the camouflaged pump shed.

Looking up I watched a small bird bearing a large item of plumage

until making off to feather the nest.

This evening we dined on two prawn preparations, namely hot and spicy and tempura; spring rolls; beef in black bean sauce; served with Jackie’s tasty savoury rice topped with a thick omelette, with which the Culinary Queen drank Hoegaarden, I drank more of the Bordeaux, and Becky drank Diet Coke.

Swarms Of Moths

This morning I stepped out in the very warm sunshine with my camera. In the front garden the crab apple blossoms and the first of the libertia are blooming; the Amanogawa cherry reaches above the eaves; and some of our cyclamen still flower.

The yellow and red tulips in the patio bed which have taken some time to open fully have stretched for the kiss of the sun; Erigeron clambers beside the kitchen door. The red Japanese maple shows its colour; all our camellias remain laden with blooms. Shadows fall across the paths; a glass robin’s breast glints in the light; the chair in the Weeping Birch bed awaits a visitor; all but the broken stem of the last year’s New Zealand flax stand proud against the blue sky; Florence sculpture looks back towards the house; aubretia spills over the rocks bordering the Gazebo Path.

Tulipa Lilac Wonder has yet to welcome the sun’s rays. Bumble bees lumber among the yellow lamium. The Waterboy offers liquid refreshment.

This afternoon could even be described as hot. The Lilac Wonders now opened wide, as did more varieties; bluebells proliferate; Autumn sculpture enjoys a little shade. The carved owl we bought on our recent visit to Hockey’s now stands at the feet of Florence sculpture.

We were treated to swarms of hummingbird moths, hardly bigger than the forget-me-not blooms that they favoured.

This evening we dined on Mr Pink’s fish and chips, mushy peas, and pickled onions, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Shiraz.

Plants Carry On Regardless

Ian from Cleansing Services Group emptied our septic tank this morning. As always, he got on with it without our interference.

This afternoon I ventured into the garden to discover what had been occurring whilst I have been holed up indoors.

Very brisk north east winds sped fluffy clouds along helping the sun to put in periodic appearances; and hurried me around my colder than expected trip.

Japanese maples and shrubs like spirea bent this way and that.

Although tulips and violas in the iron urn, and some of those potted in the Rose Garden stood firm, others remain windblown, like the covers ripped from wooden benches they were protecting.

Martin progressed with his work on the Back Drive yesterday, and

Flo has continued chopping back dead stems, opening views of such as the Pond Bed.

At the front the spring flowering cherry shares honours with its winter relative.

Cyclamens, fritillaries, bluebells, and honesty have burgeoned everywhere.

Despite the cold there is much promise of next week’s warmer weather.

A New Zealand flax has suffered a broken stem, but other beds look comfortable enough.

This evening the three of us dined on more of Jackie’s tasty cottage pie with fresh vegetables, including the fried potato topping; followed by the last of the rice pudding.