Moaning Minnie – Part Two

Today didn’t pan out quite how expected and I only have myself to blame.  Today I was due to travel to Marwood Hill Gardens to interview and photograph for an upcoming article in Devon Life magazine.  Today I was to have wandered the gardens, free from the detritus of the public, to savour the beauty of these wonderful gardens free and unfettered.   I told people where I was going; my neighbour, Hero, my mum, anyone who cared or dared to listen.  I may have been a little smug.  That was, I believe, my downfall.

As yet innocent of my impending doom, I got up early and combed my hair whilst looking in the mirror at the same time.  I wore clean clothes, including my lucky knickers, and put a watch on for the first time in many weeks.  Off I set on my big adventure.

Then my car broke.  It didn’t strictly break down, it just made an alarming “boing, boing, boing” noise as I drove the 1/4 mile necessary before the nice recovery men would agree to help me.   I don’t know an awful lot about cars but it sounded like trouble to me.  It was as if I had run over Zebedee and he was trapped beneath.  I did check, just in case.  Which is how I yet again came to be loitering in my rescue place of choice, Tesco’s car park, waiting for a recovery vehicle.   Instead of wandering, possibly skipping, around the majesty of Marwood, I was eating a sun-aged winter mixture and wishing I hadn’t had that last cup of coffee, waiting for a knight in shining boiler suit to tow my car away.  In between Rescue Me and Being Resuced I had time to cherish a different kind of planting.  Please see above.

After the prognosis I decided, rather than take my rescuer’s offer of a lift home, to do a bit of shopping, so it wasn’t a totally wasted trip.   Little did I know that my normal calm demeanour was to be tested to the limit by the woman in front of me at the till.  She packed her groceries with all the urgency of a sloth, and twice asked a staff member to get her something she had forgotten, once for “you know, those little things you sprinkle on top of cappuccinos”.  All the while she catapulted sickly smiles at me whilst mouthing “I’m sorry” with a little giggle.  She then had a spillage in one of her bags, unseen by me and quite possibly imaginary, which had to be wiped up with all the drama of a wannabe soap opera diva.  I stood quietly, some might say too quietly, and I watched as others sped through adjacent tills.  And I was close.  Very close.

Then home with a loaded rucksack and two full carrier bags, not a cappuccino sprinkle in sight, to tell OH the wonderful news and impending doom bill.

My lucky knickers have been sacked.

 

Moaning Minnie

I have been wittering on for years about the annoying aquilegia in our garden.  How they elbow-out and bully their way around the garden.  How they are sneaky, underhand and not to be trusted.

Today I sat on the bottom step, my delicate behind cushioned on my inflatable kneeler, potting on and pricking out.   Either side of the step, and indeed in much of the rest of the garden, swayed the aforementioned reprobates, resplendent in all their deceptive finery.  As I worked, the air hummed, as these wicked and selfish self-seeders fed a myriad pollinators, of all dimensions and persuasions.

I feel rather guilty now.  A bit of a Moaning Minnie.

Six on Saturday – Thankful

Another week of lockdown passed; another Six on Saturday completed.  A few months ago I would never have dreamt that I would type those words.  Still, I consider myself most fortunate, I have many reasons to be thankful.   One of which, and a blessing indeed, is being a member of the wonderful Six on Saturday community.  For those of you still ignorant about this Meme of Memes, pop on over to Meme Master and he will enlighten you.  Don’t stand too close though.  It is very infectious.  Shall we proceed?

First we have Libertia grandiflora.  Actually I am a little miffed with this plant.  Not only did I get all excited due to a label misfunction and thought it was going to be a dietes, then it spread its seedlings across most of Christendom and I have been pulling them out of pots since February.  But the flower is nice.  It might get a big split when it has done showing off.

You now that feeling when something doesn’t come up and you are beginning to wonder if you actually planted it, then a nose pokes up and you are jubilant?  Well here is a prime example, the emerging Dichelostema ida-maia.  I have grown these strange creatures before and am very fond of them.  Hopefully they will make it through to flowering and I will share with you all.

Onto the most serene and worshipful Pulmonaria ‘Opal’.  A yogic amongst the chaos.

Now we have Rhodotypos scandens, an old SoS favourite, and quite rightly so.  Buffeted and blown all winter long, and again these last few days, it has been a-buzzing for weeks.

The violas have right-on-cue redeemed themselves, springing into glorious action just when I was thinking about replacing them with summer bedding.  Except I have no summer bedding, which is just as well really.

Lastly the exotic and most previous Impatiens stenantha.  Now living in an enclave with its other impatiens mates.  It seems quite happy.

That is your lot my friends, see you next week, take care and be well.

Allelujah!

This morning I woke up with “one of my heads” and not the nice one.   Today, therefore, has been one less dynamic than the norm.   After the pain subsided I sat and read, something I have done little of recently.  Not enough anyway, especially as I have ample opportunity.

For Christmas I was given the script of Alan Bennett’s play Allelujah!  Up until this afternoon I have only given it a cursory glance, I like to keep a book’s innards secret until I come to explore them.   I am a massive Alan Bennett fan; his turn of phrase, his characters, his humour, his humanity.  He didn’t let me down with this one.

Serendipity is a wonderful word.  It transpires that this was the right time for me to read this play. First published in 2018, it is the story of a geriatric ward in a hospital threatened with closure.  This book snuggled within the nether reaches of The Pile for four months until its time was right.  Then it whispered “now, now, now”.  Or maybe I imagined that, I have had a bad head.  Whichever, I can highly recommend it and would love to see it one performed one day.

I was suppose to have a “computer off day” but as I finished it, I felt compelled to quote from this play.  These words are part of a short monologue very close to the end of the book.  It is spoken by a doctor who has failed his citizenship exam and is waiting to be deported.

“…. I must leave the burden of being English to others and become what I have always felt, a displaced person.

Why, I ask myself, should I still want to join?  What is there for me here, where education is a privilege and nationality a boast?  Starving the sick and neglecting the poor, what makes you special still?  There is no one to touch you, but who wants to anymore?  Open your arms before it’s too late. “

And I shouted, most probably internally, “don’t go we need you!”   Serendipity.

Crying Time

A client couple made me cry today.  It wasn’t “a lone, elegant tear slowly tracking down my downy cheek” à la Sinead O’Connor.  It was a full-on, scrunched-up, red-faced, ugly blub.

I won’t mention their names, although I really should.  As they deserve to be recognised.  For their kindness; kindness over and beyond.  It was much appreciated.  In a very small way of thanks, here is a string of hearts just for them.  They are shining stars.

Six on Saturday – Racing Time

I have begun to wonder how I got everything done when I was working.  The time seems to fly between Six on Saturdays and I am only getting done half of what I set out to achieve.  There is definitely no time dragging around here.  Busy but not frantic is the best way to be in these strange times.  If you want to see what the other SoSers are up to, pop over to our leader,  Dr Prop’s, blog and all will be revealed.  Shall we proceed?

First of all we have Osteospermum ‘JK’, which has just begun to flower.  It got me thinking.  Every so often I promise someone a piece of something from my garden.  This is not lightly offered.  But I forget.  Now I started have a list.  I remember that I offered someone a piece of this osteospermum, but I can’t remember who it was.  Would you please remind me and I will write it down and then it will become real.  The same goes for any other non-appearing promises.  And no, Mr P, I didn’t promise you a tenner.

Another new bloomer this week is the much-mentioned Pelargonium cordifolium var. rubrocinctum which has sailed through another winter with little protection.  Mind you it was an extremely mild winter, but all the same Pellies aren’t partial to rain and we certainly had plenty of that.  I love the orange pollen, the giant veined upper petals and diminutive lower ones, and of course the heart-shaped leaves.  It is also a great favourite of bees, although I think they would single out the delicious pollen.

Next we have Jovellana punctata.  This Jim’s fault.  No argument, the blame can be laid one hundred per cent at his feet.  Last week he wrote (and I paraphrase) “I bought a gorgeous plant from Treseders, a nursery packed full of temptation for even the most hard-hearted gardener, and don’t you know they have an on-line delivery service, please google them immediately and have a rummage”.  I mean seriously, I had no chance whatsoever!

The apple trees are in blossom, as I am sure they are across the northern hemisphere.  You just can’t beat it.  Simple.  And then a bee came along to complete the picture.  She may have previously visited the pelargonium.

Earlier this week I gave a big chop to the encroaching honeysuckle/exochorda melange. Underneath I found this white-with-a-hint-of-green aquilegia.  It is now possibly shielding its eyes crying “not the light”.  Sorry.

Crazy yellow fringed tulip.  There had to be one.  Out with a bang.

Until next week, stay safe and well my friends.  And keep on keeping on.

 

 

Paranoia

Today is shopping day, and for the past 4 weeks I have greeted it with trepidation.  Shopping is not my job usually.  As OH is on the endangered species list, now I do it.   Quite why I feel nervous is hard to say.  Generally it is had been a well-ordered affair.  Perhaps that is why.  I am not well ordered, it is not my natural state, but I realise that this is the way it has to be.  So when someone goes the wrong way on the one-way system, or encroaches into my space, or I see young fit people shopping in pairs, it makes me anxious.  Not because I am worried about my health, or indeed OH’s, but because these people are ignoring the rules.  Generally I am no fan of rules, but these particular ones are in place to protect us.  Does this flouting indicate arrogance, stupidity, ignorance or absentmindedness?  Or am I becoming intolerant?  Or perhaps a little paranoid?  Hard to say.

Thanks for the inspiration Kevin.

Daily Walk – Lilac Time

Today we took separate Daily Walks.  OH went one way this morning, I went the other way this afternoon.  We haven’t fallen out, it is just the way it happened.  There was an advantage to being on my own, I had more opportunity to be nosy.   I peered over walls and around fences, I crossed the road when something caught my eye.  I examined the ground, I looked into the sky, all the while retaining my best suspicion-free demeanour.  There were several rather pink people sunbathing in their front gardens, I kept my camera far away.  These were not my quarry, I was looking for flowers.  And I found them; back-lit tulips in a state of disrobing, forget-me-nots growing from cracks in the tarmc, marigolds perched on walls.  This was my favourite and, after first checking for bees in the buzzing bush, I buried my nose into the blossom to enjoy my first scent of lilac for the year.