Six on Saturday – The Prof

Tuesday was the funeral of my client, sparring partner, chief heckler and, most importantly, great friend, John Kingdon, AKA The Prof, AKA JK, AKA My Sponsor. I shall miss him terribly. Here is my feeble homage to him.

We disagreed about most things. In fact we could bicker about almost anything, which is generally the sign of a good relationship. In my world, anyway. I worked for John for less than four years, but we knew each other virtually for much longer. It was a good match.

Lunchtime was an important interlude to our day, which seems an appropriate place to begin. JK would make me a cheese sandwich with a bowl of salt and vinger crisps on the side, accompanied by an orange juice and tonic water. We would then watch an episode of one of his library of DVD’s. Over the weeks and years we covered Torchy the Battery Boy (an education for me), through Rhubarb and Custard (an education for him), Fireball XL5, concluding with The Vicar of Dibley.

This is a favourite of his many altroemeria, I’m afraid I can’t name it for you.

We always agreed on the more important things; plants, gardens, grass roots stuff. Nothing was more enjoyable than sitting down over another cup of coffee, studying catalogues, seed lists, planning and of course, squabbling over the minutiae. Trips to the local garden centre were always great fun, especially when accompanied by coffee and cake, or on one special day, half a Stella and cake. He teased me incessantly about my plant addiction, let me tell you fine folk, it was “pot calling the kettle black”. Here is an example of one of our very successful trips. We often bought in tandem, sharing postage and dividing the spoils. Lilium ‘Forever Susan’ was one such purchase. What great taste we had.

Other than his garden, John loved music, especially classical, even more especially church organ music, he played the organ himself. I find organ music abrasive and slightly disturbing. I love Jimmy Smith. Never the twain shall meet.

When John was ill in hospital, I would send him photos of his garden and when I visited we made plans for this growing season. He missed this wonderful winter flowering clematis in full bloom.

Bedding plants were a must, especially tuberous begonias, which filled wall planters and hanging baskets alike. John was quite the gadget man, which explains why his nom de plume was The Prof. He devised a wall of irrigated pots which were named, for no apparent reason, The Hanging Gardens of East Grinstead. They were quite splendid.

JK was a proud Welshman. He favoured independence but assured me that I would be allowed to remain as an immigrant. Periodically, I would enquire how the revolution was progressing. This usually resulted in a stern look and being assigned a rubbish job in the garden.

John loved his pets, in fact he adored them. This is Buster, who arrived shortly before I did, we were newbies at the same time. I do love a tabby and he was no exception to the rule. Buster was very helpful around the garden, in a feline kind of way, laying in and on things that you would like to be using. And here he proves that it is possible to look super cool whilst sitting in an Amazon box.

John will be staying in his beloved garden, with his lifetime of pets who are also interred in various place. In a week or two, myself, his sister and special neighbour will have our own private ceremony, scattering his ashes to enhance and feed the soil.

JK was a kind and generous man, inventive and horticulturally ambitious. We had many laughs together and should have had many more.

I shall miss him terribly.

Please check out our shepherd, Jim at Garden Ruminations, if you are SoS curious. You won’t regret it.