This afternoon, before another encouraging Chiropractic session with Eloise, I wandered around the garden in the sunshine.
This winter flowering cherry was to be expected, but the Welsh poppies were a surprise. I thought it best to leave a few seedheads.
Numerous bidens and Roxanne geraniums seem to be continuing for ever.
Light shone through leaves such as viburnum plicatum, Japanese maple,
and Cordyline Australis;
throwing shadows on the Brick Path, Florence sculpture, and the trunk of the copper beech tree.
Holly berries, hebes and viburnum shared the season.
Roses Festive Jewel, Kent, Doris Tysterman, and Super Elfin are hanging on for Christmas.
This evening we all dined on tasty baked gammon; piquant cauliflower and broccoli cheese, tender green beans and mangetouts; and what I grew up knowing as macaroni cheese which I gather is now Mac and cheese, with which I finished the Fitou and Jackie drank Diet Pepsi.
This warm and sunny afternoon I took a walk around the garden with my camera.
Two days ago Martin had returned to work in the garden after a three week Covid isolation period following a positive test. He began work on the west side of the Back Drive, then
cut the long overdue grass.
I also photographed the still blooming winter flowering cherry; a golden euphorbia; glowing hellebores and daffodils; an upright hyacinth and muscari; two of our many camellias; clumps of tulips and primroses, and
the Brick and Gazebo Paths.
This evening, after snacking on pasties, Becky, Ian, and I will set off to Christchurch’s Regent Theatre to watch https://www.themanfreds.com
Should anyone wish to follow this link, my old friend Tom is in the centre of the header picture.
At least our winter flowering cherry was happy with another dreary, yet wet, day.
Last night Louisa asked me to send pictures of her lifelong friend Gemma, who will be 40 tomorrow. I sent her three,
of which this is one from my daughter’s birthday party of May 1993.
Three days ago ‘we began with a trip to the Lymington Post Office collection office to claim a parcel undelivered because of a shortage of £2 in postage. The good news was that there was no queue. The bad news was that the office was closed. I took an alternative option which was to stick the extra postage on the back of their card and post it back to them.’
This is what we received in the post this afternoon:
The first of these images is of the front of the card addressed to the office with my 3 first class stamps attached. At the current rate of postage that is £2.45. The With postage section on the reverse side addressed to us is the direction I followed. Grammar enthusiasts might like to note the superfluous apostrophe in our name. A postman told me that ‘Today’s date’ is the date the post office received the parcel, not the date on which the card was delivered. That was in fact several days later.
I tried very hard to resolve this on line where I couldn’t even access the revised opening times. Of all the options from which to choose to request help there wasn’t one which would cover having received the returned card, clearly addressed to the Delivery Office itself, with no indication of the parcel. And, as usual, there was no way I could find a telephone number.
We decided to go in person. The office was closed. And only open from 8 to 10 a.m. in the morning.
This called for a rainy forest trip.
The anonymous decorator of the Pilley Hill Post Collection Box seems to be celebrating 2022. Maybe it will improve.
Behind Jordan’s Lane alongside which lies Pilley Lake, I enjoyed a friendly conversation with two master thatchers. This cheered me up.
On the lane itself one donkey was guarding her foal while another couple were silently arguing about the bay tree they were pruning. The larger animal kept butting the smaller out of the way.
The Culinary Queen produced another delicious beef pie for tonight’s dinner – and for a couple more besides. Firm boiled potatoes, Brussels sprouts and carrots were the tasty vegetables; onion gravy completed the platefuls which were accompanied by Hoegaarden in Jackie’s case, and Castillo Catadau Gran Reserva 2014 – a delightfully smooth rounded Spanish Tempranillo given by Ian for Christmas, in mine.
I then uploaded garden photographs I had made earlier.
Pansies and viburnum usually flower all year round, but to find sunny solanum and winter flowering cherry together is not normally expected.
We still have a number of fuchsias in bloom.
Not much damage was caused by storm Barra. One broken and a few redistributed pots and watering cans; fallen strings of solar lights, rose stems, twigs from birch and beech; owls, and a path sign, were all we really suffered. We will right a few pots and garden ornaments and gather up the arboreal offerings when we feel in the mood.
This evening we dined on second helpings of yesterday’s Red Chilli takeaway with the addition of vegetable samosas. Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank Collin Bourisset Macon 2019.
On an albeit cool day of sunny interludes on which
winter flowering and amanogawa cherry blossoms flourished alongside each other, I produced
a snapshot of the garden. As usual titles of the individual pictures will be found when accessing the gallery with a click on any one image.
This evening Elizabeth came to dinner which consisted of succulent roast pork, with cracking crackling; crisp Yorkshire puddings, roast potatoes and parsnips; crunchy carrots; firm broccoli and cauliflower; and meaty gravy. Dessert was cherry pie and custard. The Culinary Queen drank Hoegaarden while my sister and I drank Pinha Ribiero Santo Dao 2019.
The sun kept away today, and the cloud-wrapped air was mild.
To increase seasonal confusion the winter flowering cherry has bloomed early and nudges crab apples normally stripped by blackbirds by now.
This camellia is a very early spring bloomer, but never a November one.
Fuchsias like Delta’s Sarah and Mrs Popple just go on and on;
what is Margaret Merril doing distributing her summer scents over the latter?
This pink climber; the deep magenta Gloriana; gently blushing Crown Princess Margareta; never-ending For Your Eyes Only; dewy Mamma Mia; and ever-prolific Absolutely Fabulous still, beyond their normal spans, cling to life.
Even Winchester Cathedral has turned its back on Autumn.
Fatsia knows when to flower;
as for bidens, pelargoniums, and penstemon, they have no idea when to stop.
This afternoon the skies gently leaked and I scanned the last few black and white negatives produced from Kensal Green Cemetery in May 2008.
One of the most skilfully carved monuments in this, the earliest of “The Magnificent Seven” landscaped London cemeteries, stands in honour of Ninon Michaelis (c1864-1895) who ‘was the first wife of Maximilian (Max) Michaelis (1852-1932), a German-South African financier and diamond magnate. Max Michaelis was a partner in the mining company of Wernher, Beit & Co., and came to England in 1891 as the firm’s London director. An avid collector of paintings, he donated a magnificent collection of Dutch masters to the South African government, and endowed the Michaelis School of Fine Arts in the University of Cape Town. He was knighted in 1924. Ninon Michaelis was named as a popular figure in reviews of troops in South Africa. In May 1895, at the age of 31, she died of syncope (fainting), pneumonia and alcoholism. Also deposited in the vault beneath the monument are the remains of Max’s brother Gustav Michaelis (c1858-1901). Ownership of the vault passed to Maximilian’s second wife, Lillian Elizabeth Burton, whom he married in 1908, and who is recorded as the owner of the plot in 1932……..’
‘The monument is attributed to Henry Alfred Pegram (1862-1937). Pegram entered the Royal Academy Schools in 1881 and exhibited at the Royal Academy from 1884.’ (https://historicengland.org.uk/listing/the-list/list-entry/1246089).
A side view of this sculpture of artist Wiliam Mulready appears in the book so I will not reproduce it here.
Sorrowful angels populate these Victorian burial grounds.
Another sealed up mausoleum is this one erected for Sir Patrick O’Brien.
His obituary in the International Catholic News weekly reported ‘The death of SIR PATRICK O’BRIEN, BART., on April 25, is announced. The deceased Baronet was the eldest son of the late Sir Timothy O’Brien, Bart. When the Corporation of Dublin was reformed in 1840, Daniel O’Connell was elected the first Catholic Chief Magistrate of the City since the penal times. Sir Timothy O’Brien was the second, and he was again subsequently elected when it became known that the Queen was to pay her first visit to Ireland. It was on this occasion, 1849, that the honour of a Baronetcy was conferred. He had then been member for Cashel since 1845 and continued such till 1857.’ (http://ukcdngenealogy.blogspot.com/2016/08/a-london-cemetery-blumberg-obrien-and.html)
This evening we dined on Jackie’s well-matured spicy pasta arrabbiata and tender green beans with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank Valle Central Reserva Privado Merlot 2019.
We have now realised that the birds partaking of the front garden feeders are field residents from across the road.
Their numbers now include gymnastic blue tits
and patient sparrows here waiting their turn at the trough.
Our young visitors bear only so much rain before disappearing, following further leakage from the clouds, leaving the winter flowering cherry to carry the torch for signs of life
amid dripped drops clinging to glistening branches,
dotting netting; slicking crab apples; offering sparkle to the dank morning.
before a further temporary lull lured the great
and blue tits back for a brief breakfast refill.
The grey day gathered relentless gloom.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s spicy pork paprika, special savoury rice, and stringless runner beans, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Malbec.
Stormy weather and a heavy cold have kept me indoors for the last week. Today the wind has dropped to 20 m.p.h. and the sun has shone. I therefore took a walk in the garden. Jackie now has the cold and is currently housebound.
Our winter flowering cherry remains bright against the blue sky above.
The copper beech and the weeping birch still display their skeletal frames;
pruned roses are biding their time to burst forth in bloom.
Golden forsythia glows beside the patio.
Whichever way you look at them, the old cart wheels and the gazebo arches have designs on the gravel path,
visible beyond this end of the Phantom Path.
Camellias still bloom and bud throughout the shrubberies.
Daffodils still abound. Those in the patio are accompanied by tulips, pansies, and violas.
Primulas, bergenias, hellebores, cyclamens, comfrey, alliums, grape hyacinths, and pulmonaria all await discovery in the beds.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s piquant cauliflower cheese served with rashers of bacon, followed by lemon Bakewell tarts.
An unusual phenomenon is evident in our front garden this year. We have crab apples, normally stripped by blackbirds long before now – still suspended from their branches – standing alongside a winter flowering cherry.
When I endured my flexible cystoscopy on 13th December I was given a form to send back after a fortnight in order to report on whether or not I had an infection. Now I know why. Today Jackie drove me to the GP to obtain some antibiotics.
Before then we took a drive in the forest.
The two ponies always seen at the door of Greatham House near the junction of Sway Road in Brockenhurst, and various attendant donkeys
attracted quite a crowd of visitors, many with cameras. The grey pony, in particular, tended to poke her head through the open front doorway when the owner appeared with goodies.
Several donkeys on the opposite corner of the street attracted their own admirers.
Soon, occasionally coming to an abrupt halt, either to doze or to enjoy a scratch, crossed the road to join their relatives.
As most photographers will know, it is necessary to stand well back from your subject when using a long lens. This becomes rather difficult when your prey – in this case a small donkey in search of treats – is intent upon investigating your camera. One gentleman attempting to flee his moving subject was compelled to wait until the animal became distracted in order to take his opportunity for a shot. Otherwise, each time he turned round the creature continued to bear down upon him.
Jackie, who tried out her new camera today, reprimanded me for standing in the road “like a donkey”. These are two of her images. The woman I was conversing with was telling me that the local council were engaged in a long running feud with the owner of Greatham House who refused to stop feeding the ponies. She said that the two regular equine visitors were a mother and daughter, and that the younger, grey, animal was pregnant. As Jackie said, “she’ll be bringing her foal along soon”.
In the skies over Bransgore a mini murmuration wave swooped, turned, ebbed, and flowed low above the trees.
This evening we dined at Lal Quilla. My main course was lamb Ceylon; Jackie’s Lal Qilla Special; Ian’s chicken tikka masala; and Becky’s Murg something I can’t remember. We shared onion bhajis, various rices and a peshwari naan. Becky drank rosé wine while the rest of us enjoyed Kingfisher.
CLICK ON ANY IMAGE IN A GROUP TO ACCESS ITS GALLERY, INDIVIDUAL MEMBERS OF WHICH CAN BE VIEWED FULL SIZE BY SCROLLING DOWN AND CHECKING BOX AT BOTTOM RIGHT.
Today, shyly, a warm sun peeped periodically through the slow moving clouds, which released no rain. This gave an opportunity to wander around the garden to explore what has been happening whilst we have lurked inside.
The winter flowering cherry still has no idea that its season is over.
Views from the paths are enhanced by
continuing varieties of camellia,
daffodils,
hellebores,
and pansies.
Comparatively new arrivals are epimedium, honesty, comfrey, aubretia; and
wallflowers, blending with
euphorbia, that with its fly, like the alliums, attracts insects such as the bee and the tiny creature on the wing to the right of that.
This evening we enjoyed a second helping of Oliver’s Chinese takeaway, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank Ribera del Duero Camino Nuevo 2016
