5th April 2014
After overnight rain the garden plants and spiders’ webs this morning were bejewelled. It wasn’t long before the leaden skies began a day-long disgorging of their contents.
We didn’t go anywhere. As she continued her mega kitchen clean, Jackie discovered that black cupboard handles were in fact brass. She made them glow again.
Martin Taylor, the artisan Pippa had recommended, responded to my voicemail message. We had a most frustrating almost one-way conversation on mobile phones because he couldn’t hear me as my signal kept breaking up. He tried his landline. That was no better. It was then that I realised our landline was dead. How could we have broadband, but no landline?
The answer to this may lie in the instruction booklet that came with the phones bought two or three years ago. Where was it? I remembered having scooped up various such technical documents and slipped them into one of the boxes. Which one? That was the question. A rather protracted search began. Eventually Jackie found them.
It took about three seconds study for me to realise that a lead was missing from the phone. But it was protruding from the socket. All the wires from phones, hub, computer, etc. are extended, and tangled around each other, so it was a bit difficult to find the line I was looking for. Eventually I tracked it to the home hub. With much trepidation I pulled it out and pushed it into the phone. Eureka! The phone worked, and the broadband still did. I called Martin from the landline and we communicated without interruption. He is coming on Monday 7th.
Thereafter, my major task was further clearance of the garage, fortuitously interrupted by a pleasant visit from Shelly who loved the house.
I removed numerous ancient paint tins, brackets, car bits, oily stuff, wood, metal, wires, and rubber from the rickety metal and cobbled wooden shelves; stripped out the shelves themselves; prised nails and screws from the wall; carted everything to the increasingly expanding skip heap; and swept up. In the process, I found some useful garden tools which I transported down the garden to the orange stained shed. Jackie then helped me to place three of the IKEA Billy bookshelves in the now vacant space.
This evening we dined on Tesco’s excellent beef lasagne followed by caramel-filled chocolate sponge. I finished the Isla Negra.
Tonight I managed to stay up until 9.30 p.m. before hauling myself upstairs to bed.
Tag: tulips
Tending Livestock And Crops
Writing three-quarters of a millennium ago, Geoffrey Chaucer, our earliest great poet, in his classic ‘Canterbury Tales’ displayed a talent for capturing characterisation with simple descriptions of clothing and habits. Whether or not she was inspired by this writer, the modern P.D. James has this facility in abundance, as demonstrated by ‘A Certain Justice’ which I finished reading this morning. Her descriptions of place are equally poetic and add enormously to our understanding of the natures of her subjects. Within this elegant writing she weaves an intriguing and credible murder mystery.
In a not wholly successful attempt to dislodge yesterday’s stubborn mud, I grated my shoes along the gravel footpaths leading out of Sigoules as I set off on this much brighter but still chilly morning to walk the La Briaude loop. Apart from the rather raucus distant cawing of rooks, the birdsong was glorious, and the day fresh.
Unlike the New Forest ponies, who refuse to be distracted from their grazing, the more inquisitive Dordogne cattle would often lift their heads and stare.
Tempted by a stony uphill track, I took a diversion, and was rewarded by a sight of burgeoning barley. Through trees, this led to a road on which I turned left. Miraculously enough, this led me to La Briaude. I had discovered a wider loop that I will use in future.
Walking on towards Sigoules, I heard a tender male voice. Peering through the trees I saw the gentleman was addressing sweet nothings to his obviously well groomed donkey. We exchanged greetings. The man and I, not the ass. Further on, another man was tending his garden. Beyond a crop of bright yellow tulips, stretched rows of vegetables, at the end of which he tilled the stony soil.
The sometimes low and relaxed, sometimes more shrill and desperate cries of the as yet unmated woodpigeons drowned the cheerful chirruping of smaller birds as I set about sorting the sitting room.
Jackie will be pleased to learn that today’s Code Bar soup was yesterday’s veg one amplified by noodles. There followed shredded pot-au-feu beef with a tangy tomato based sauce including little tomatoes and accompanied by half a hard-boiled egg on lettuce. Not necessarily my favourite food, the main course of lasagne could have me converted. Profiteroles completed the Italian theme. Fred paid me the compliment of asking me the English word (strawberries) for the French fraises. A group of English diners were having them, but I had them yesterday.
She Does Make Exceedingly Good Books
On another glorious day, I had a wander around the garden of the Lodge, the shrubberies of which are now blooming splendidly. Jackie had spent the morning attending to her little garden on our kitchen corner, after which we drove to The Firs to put in a stint there.
In less than a week the trees lining the M27 have burst into leaf.
Jackie and I and Danni worked on the beds. My task was to mix topsoil, all-purpose compost, and farm compost and apply this as top dressing to weeded beds. In preparation for this the grass edges were trimmed and weeding carried out.
We continue to be pleased with the fruits of last year’s work, if only because the really heavy work has all been done. 
There are examples of serendipity, usually created by self-seeded primroses, such as their coordination with epimedium, or their contrast with forget-me-nots. 
And there are happy results of planting, such as the numerous tulips planted everywhere.
I was particularly pleased with those I had bought at last year’s Bishop’s Waltham Garden Fair.
They have all come up again, in a bed which didn’t exist a month or so before they were planted.
Danni took the opportunity to photograph Jackie and me taking a break.
While the serfs slaved, the lady of the manor sat in the shade making beautiful little books for the planned summer exhibition. In fairness to Elizabeth, who normally gets stuck in with the rest of us, she is recovering from a general anaesthetic and minor ENT operation and, like Mr. Kipling and his cakes, she ‘does make exceedingly good’ books.
Danni made an excellent sausage casserole meal which we enjoyed with the assistance of red wines and, of course, for she who will be nameless, Hoegaarden. A delightful Berry Bliss from the Co-op was for afters.
The low sun was blinding along the motorway as we drove west to home. As is now quite common a handful of deer dashed across the road in front of us in the vicinity of Shave Wood.
When she had finished driving and we settled back home, I poured Jackie a complimentary. Others would call this a Bailey’s. We have renamed it in line with the custom of many local Indian restaurants who offer us a complimentary drink, usually a Bailey’s, after our meal.
It Has Come In Useful
White cloud with occasional sunshine was what the meteorologists had promised for today, and this is what we received. This was much to the delight of the organisers of the Bishop’s Waltham Garden Fair which we attended with Elizabeth.
We began the day by visiting The Firs to collect Elizabeth. This naturally involved further investigation of the fruits of last year’s work. The berberis was glowing orange; wallflowers, gigantic when compared to their pre-compost existence, displayed a range of colours;
tulips, pansies, and other spring flowers brightly raised their faces to the sun.
When, this time last year, we first attended the Bishop’s Waltham Garden Fair in the grounds of Wintershill Hall, Durley, the ground was so wet that we feared for the lawns over which we were tramping. Our car, like many others, had to be pulled out of the car park mud by tractor. Little had we realised that the rain we were experiencing would be more or less consistent over the whole country for the next twelve whole months. 
Today, however, the weather was warm with plenty of sunny spells, and visitors to the fair enjoyed the luxury of sitting on grassy banks eating roast pork baps, sandwiches, cakes and ice creams ; or just contemplating the scenery. Families with children, and enthusiasts of all ages milled about everywhere. Such fairs are a feature of English life, but I doubt that there are any settings more beautiful than the garden of this large stately home.
Plant stalls boasted excellent examples of the owners’ produce; garden ornaments, bric-a-brac, and hand-made gifts were also to be found. 
These latter were mostly situated inside the marquee where sandwiches, cakes, and hot drinks were also available. 
For those who had the patience to queue, a hog roast was in place outside. Many people, including me, soon became impatient, and went inside for a sandwich. I doubt that the organisers could possibly have estimated how many people would flock there today, and the two person staff offering the baps filled with pork and crackling, for which debit and credit card payments were accepted, were clearly overwhelmed. Their red faces were not simply due to their proximity to the spit. They were working flat out.
Entertainment was provided by the Cuff Billett New Europa Jazz Band whose original stage beneath the spreading branches of an ancient tree against the backdrop of a colourful Japanese maple, was an example of the magnificent setting. 
After a while they went walkabout and performed amongst the stalls, some of which also had backdrops of flowering trees and shrubs.
A question time service was relayed throughout the grounds. Gardeners presented the speaker with their questions and he gave very knowledgeable answers, on one occasion disagreeing with a very well-known but un-named expert who had provided a different solution.
On 13th September last year the post ‘Moving The Eucalyptus’ described just that. There were a number of reasons why Matthew, the tree surgeon who had felled the dying tree, had been asked, instead of sawing it up and taking it away, to leave it by the pond. Firstly it provided an interesting photographic project for my artistic sister; then it was to become the basis for a wildlife garden. The site of this section of the grounds took some time to establish before it was finally forgotten. This meant two more moves of the heavy corpse; the first by the tree men, the second by Jackie and me. The third reason was that it might come in useful sometime. When we returned her to her home this afternoon Elizabeth proudly showed us that, through the good services of her friend Geoff, it has indeed become useful. 
Geoff has made from it an excellent fence between The Firs and the chapel next door. It has a rustic appeal and reflects the pointed arches of the neighbouring building.
Danni and Andy are to attend a Charity Ball partly in aid of her Jubilee Sailing Trust. This meant a frock had to be bought. We were all asked to witness a two ball gown fashion parade in the kitchen during which we were to help Danni make a choice. Since she looked stunning in either, this was not easy. Nevertheless we all agreed on my niece’s own preference, which was also quite handy.
Back home we dined on Jackie’s sublime chicken curry and pilau rice such as any Bangladeshi chef would be proud of. I drank some more of the Carta Roja.