Category Archives: Gardens

Carmen in the Garden

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Carmen, with an orchestra of 6 and a cast of 6 in a marquee in the grounds of a beautiful house (Thurston End Hall) in the wilds of Suffolk.

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A balmy summer evening, a garden smelling of roses, everyone picnicking happily on the grass, (very high quality Portaloos), and an entertaining, well sung interpretation of Carmen. This was in English (which I don’t usually like) but as they had set it in a New York bar with a boxing theme, it worked perfectly and I heard every word. Escamillo, the Toreador, was a boxer. Carmen, Frasquite and Remendado were immigrant siblings running a bar. And Jose was a new police recruit with a murky past, while his commander, Zuniga, ran a protection racket. This cast of six managed to be chorus and all parts, it was impressive, fun and wonderful to hear. The orchestra created amazing effects.

The evening buzz

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I was weeding as the light was fading and became aware of a continuous buzzing noise. The great lime tree next door, covered in blossom, was almost shivering with bees. You could hear the humming right across the garden.

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Swifts were screaming over and round the house and I could hear the nesting martins burbling away under the eaves. A second nest has been inhabited late in the season and is full of young. We are not the only ones enjoying the hot weather. Mind you, I had to rescue some very limp lettuce earlier today.

Bee bath and stupid garden bargains

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We moved a funny old home-made brick urn into a flower bed and filled it with water, to match a similar one that we use as a bird bath. We’ve not seen many birds, but it is in full use.

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In January 2009 I succumbed to an offer – a so-called Garden Bargain mini Orchard. I received three bare-rooted named fruit trees: a Moorpark apricot, a Victoria plum and a Sunburst cherry – all guaranteed to flower and fruit in the first year. I planted all three, but was concerned about the resin oozing from a wound on the apricot – I was told to report back again later in the year. Neither the cherry nor the apricot flowered in year one. The plum flowered; it looked remarkably like an apple, but as a late frost wiped out the blooms, I couldn’t prove it. The apricot continued to weep, but I had to agree that it was still alive.

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Year two, still no flowers on the cherry or the apricot. The plum was definitely an apple, but the fruit fell in a late frost before I had photographed it. The apricot was still alive and its wound beginning to heal. I stopped making any attempt to contact the vendors.

Year three – nothing. We moved the apple and bought a Victoria plum.

Year four – March 2012. The not-plum apple flowered well and set fruit, the new real plum flowered, but did not set fruit. The cherry had a couple of blooms, but no fruit. The apricot flowered, looked stunning, and set some fruit. Late frosts again wiped out all fruit.

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Year five – three blooms on the apricot and no fruit. The new plum, the not-plum apple, and the cherry flowered and have growing fruit. I can’t wait. I have no idea what kind of apple the ‘plum’ will turn out to be.

Lesson learned.

Spinach marathon

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There will be a few days quiet on the blog as we will be travelling. I find that I have a great inclination to tidy up if I am leaving the house so I finally decided to cut all the bolting spinach and found that there were masses of edible leaves. So hours later after washing, de-stalking and blanching half of them I have some for the freezer, some for the fridge and some for supper.

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The June illusion

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Every year there is a moment when I look at my (miniature) vegetable plot and think – I’ve got it right this year. Last year’s debris and weeds have been cleared, this year’s runner and french beans, courgettes and tomatoes are planted. There are lettuces in various stages and some wild rocket and although the spinach is bolting, there are plenty of edible leaves.

Every year I somehow manage to forget that the beans and tomatoes will topple over or fail to set fruit, or totally outgrow the small space they have been allocated. Every year I forget that there are one or two others waiting for the feast. The mice and pigeons, the slugs and caterpillars, an endless succession of small flies/hoppers and bugs are waiting for the darkness to get munching. My moment of smugness is likely to be short-lived, so I shall enjoy it.

Bug patrol and peony joy

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Going into the garden for some heavy pruning and edging, I found myself on non-stop bug patrol. The green/black fly have started on the roses, are continuing on all the soft fruit and still attacking the new growth on the maples. I prefer to share the job with ladybirds than to use to insecticide, and the ladybirds are in short supply, so to keep up with them I have to spend the time.

Then there are the lily beetles. If there is anything nastier than squashing a lily beetle, it is dealing with their larva. These are encased in revolting black smeary gunge and need a strong stomach, but as far as I know, there is still no known predator in the UK. I love the lilies so it’s worth it.

There are compensations, peonies don’t seem to be afflicted with bugs:

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jet-lagged from Chicago

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I am planning a blog reassessment, but first I will put up some posts of various things on my mind.

Chicago has totally charmed me. We stayed on the North Side and all the streets were full of an explosion of spring into summer; narcissi, tulips, maples in leaf, cherry blossom, hostas everywhere. The sidewalks often have cultivated strips beside them, all individually designed by the house owners.

The number of theatres is quite astonishing. We saw three excellent productions in three different theatres (two directed by Elly Green), we listened to a (free) string/clarinet lunchtime concert in the beautiful Culture Centre. We saw a superb exhibition in the Museum of Contemporary Art – Destroy the Picture – the anger and innovation made visible in post WWII ‘paintings’. The Smart Museum of Art had an astonishing collection (and a foyer with people of all ages having a go at producing a Rothko painting).

The highlight was being caught and soaked by the high canon of water from the Buckingham fountain in Grant Park and then drying off within about 15 minutes in the sunlight and warm wind.

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Our first and only baseball match (to date) saw The Cubs win. Altogether a visit of enormous entertainment and happiness.

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Talking to a worm

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I have a feeling that talking to a worm is a sign of serious derangement, but that’s what I found myself doing this afternoon. The garden is dust dry and the bugs have arrived. I have to go on daily lily beetle patrols and blackfly inspections. The maples, now in their glorious new growth are under constant attack. I love every leaf, though, so I willingly spend time squishing the wretched beasts.

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