We have been growing climbers in our yard for about ten months.
Last year we missed the most dynamic part of the growing season so none of the climbers bloomed with anything more than the short lived flowers they arrived with. This year, the first where they have had almost a full year in our care they are all slow to get going. But first a climbing rose and now the Wisteria are putting out flowers. Just as the first rose bloomed its stalk became too weak and it was rescued to live a brief life in a shot glass. Yesterday the first wisteria bloom snapped off the plant and has been rescued into the kitchen, this time in a milk bottle.
A good excuse for some still life photography but hardly the Yarden of Eden we had imagined. The pollinators are not queuing up to buzz and pollen-up their bottoms any time soon in our yard. In contrast to our blooms the wooden bug hotel is terrifically successful brown, scurrying non-photographic things live a busy metropolitan life under and around our water butts. Worms live a happy terracotta life in our improvised composters, enjoying coffee grounds from around the world, tea bags and the occasional dog poo. If yardening were a sporting event our Mid-May results would look something like this.
Brown Things 6- 2 Pretty Things
The pretty things scoring a two because the roses have learned how to both bloom and hold their heads up.
Claire Austin rose and the sharp shadows of night in a city yard.
When I moved to the Plymouth area for the first time from Brighton, in the late eighties, I was not so sure it had been a wise move. The cultural and societal differences between a liberal and multicultural seaside city and a post industrial port were vast and uncomfortable for a long while. I quickly found my tribe by joining an art class.
Plymouth artists liked to drink in out of the way places. One such place was the Victualing Office Tavern, a grubby pub in one of the roughest parts of Plymouth. We went there to enjoy live jazz , rock and folk. Just as the quote says, we were a very broad gathering of people from all works of life. People creating art in council flats and some in homes that were mentioned in the Doomsday Book. There is a theory that artists are the first sign of gentrification….
Now I live in the exact same area as my 1980’s art excursions, after a ten year return to London. The VOT has gone up in the world, as has the area. Queen Victoria should have swapped the word dangerous for interesting.
Visionary rather than vituperative is a better way forward even for a Queen
Just a blog to use one of my favourite words that rarely gets an outing.
For many, Easter is a four day weekend. Thursday evening seems just a little more relaxed than normal in anticipation. But two days of great weather have given way to a deluge. Luckily I caught sight of a group of paddleboarders at high tide and sunset. When the weather was being kinder
I took one of my ‘bad’ photographs and, inspired by my puddle photograph of yesterday. I created an image with similar bold colours but enhanced the softness of colour reflected in water.
I decided to slightly change the location and relative size of the paddleboarders. I will tinker with them some more over the next few days.
I suspect that this will be my image of Easter 2025 as I tweak it into submission, in both senses of the word, ready for an exhibition in May.
As an aside to all this, my workspace is finally finished. It has taken us 6 months to find exactly the second hand furniture we needed to store regular life and art materials. We never intended bright pink to be an accent colour but an old sari is the perfect cover up for works in progress on the table, and my lovely old typewriter is just the perfect shade of beige.
Even as I write the words ‘perfect shade of beige’ I realise that this tidy work space is another piece of great procrastination. I need to set to and get on with the work for the Turner Exhibition at the end of May. But while it was in a tidy pristine state yesterday I sat and filled in the application form on line. When I was done, not a thing was out of place.
A silky morning walk with some breaks in the cloud. The quiet chug as the river ferry collects passengers. Just a whole lot more charming now the Greige has lifted. I fear this is a temporary lull. Storm Éowyn has booked herself a place on our coast from tomorrow.
Having never read or watched Game of Thrones I don’t really have an expectation of the name Éowyn. My JR Tolkien reading days are long ago and I have no recollection of his character Éowyn. But it is a really beautiful name so I am hopeful of a storm that does no harm and creates beautiful sunrises and sunsets. Most importantly I would like the winter greige banished for more than a brief moment. For now I am more than happy to accept the silky calm that precedes her.
Pondering efficiency. Hmmm, Tuesday turned out to be rather efficient. Some Wednesday things were achieved a day early. Dawn today saw me with the realisation that I had some free time. The Bobbers had a morning swim planned which I realised I should no longer avoid.
My early morning consideration was to wear a wetsuit or not. A wetsuit is a tedious adjunct to a bob so the decision was made to go into the sea in skin. A great decision as it turns out. Chilly for certain but a real mental and physical boost. Bobbing friends are one of the great positives of the COVID years.
My efficiencies of yesterday were largely centred on the tennis club that I help to run. I was there very early and took the photo below.
The tennis club has two grass courts, a fabulous garden and a spectacular location. I found a lovely piece of prose about gardens last night. Written by Derek Jarman in 1990, a favourite Punk Polymath of mine. The two needed to be put together.
So D for 26 Days to Boxing Day has emerged. D for Dawn.
August 31st and it is still summer, only just, the summer tide is going out. But not before the bobbers managed a historic bob, with P.S Waverley the world’s last working Paddle Steamer coming into the background of their evening swim. A paddle steamer and three choices of cake. It really was an epic bob.
Our Cornish bobbers got to see the Waverley twice, catching her again on their return across the Tamar.
Still summer, a phrase that uses the word ‘still’ two ways.
It is still summer but summer has also slipped into its still phase. The last summer storm, Lilian, happened a week ago. She was a screamer for a few hours, rattling chimney pots and screeching up our cobbled back lanes before stirring the sea into a murky stew for a few days.
Since Lilian we have slipped into the still summer phase, no raging heat, gentle rains, crystal clear seas and some really lovely days. Not that I am looking at Summer 2024 with rose tinted glasses. She arrived shockingly late when June had already started and Spring hardly made an appearance. Tomorrow we hit the first day of Autumn/Fall, lets hope summer drags her heels a bit and leaves as late, if not later than she arrived.
This headline popped up on my newsfeed last night. For us, in the South-West of England we have one more week until we see our last 8pm sunset. Our house lies in a perfect East/West position so sunrises are observed from the main bedroom and sunsets from the kitchen and studio. Both are easily viewed by walking the dogs at the right time of day. The sun rises over the sea and sets as we look up the river.
Yesterday was International Day of the Dog, and it is the dogs that have made me much more aware of sunrises, sunsets and all the natural changes that occur in landscape. Hugo arrived 11 years ago and with his arrival came the daily habit of walking the dog. A three times a day, wander for about twenty minutes minimum, wherever we happen to be. If I had never owned a dog I would never have known the pleasure of small changes and repetition. Before Hugo I would have said I was a keen walker, someone who liked to go for walks when I had the time, was on holiday or some other delightful reason. Before Hugo I probably had specific clothes and shoes that I knew were comfortable/ appropriate for walks. Now I never mention walking as a quasi hobby, I do it in whatever I happen to be wearing and I do it whenever it is needed. In all weathers.
Walking is the beginning and the end of my day. I had no idea what I was missing before I owned a dog.
I realise that I could easily do frequent daily walks without a dog . Just as I could write daily without a blog. But I doubt I would do either without a reason.
Hugo is on limited walking for a few days. He got over excited at a friend’s house and has tweaked his back. Just like a human with a bad back he needs rest, pain relief and moderate exercise.
I know which walk takes half an hour and because this blog prides itself on the repetition of normal life, I took some sunny photos on my circuit yesterday.
It is bin day and this is a fine example of how camouflage works.
Our morning walk often has military men, carrying weapons doing training runs. This is so normal that the dogs pay no attention. We are fortunate that we live near the barracks and the men running past are fragrant adverts for mens grooming products. Not so much if I catch them on the way back.
Low tide at the beach is not the most scenic shot.
But the next shot also shows how well camouflage works.
With my back to the sea we head down Hutong Lane towards the Royal William Yard and a series of harbours.
Then a quick left onto some grass and to the first harbour.
Then we follow a boardwalk on the edge of a second harbour back towards the entrance of the Royal William Yard.
Maybe at this point I should do a little catch up on my pondering.
Ponder #1The efficacy of Camouflage.
#2 is more complex. Some babies are born with a rare condition where their heart is not fully enclosed by their ribs.
The Hutong Cafe is outside the Royal William Yard which is a thriving mixed use commercial hub with many cafes and restaurants.
The Hutong used to be closed on Tuesdays which is when this ponder first took hold. On Tuesdays this regular walk felt incomplete. The small cafe outside the yard sets the tone for the entrance and experience of the very grand, Royal William Yard, RWY. Recently the Hutong opened on Tuesdays, making everything feel right 7 days a week. Which gave me a spontaneous moment of clarity. The beating heart of the Royal William Yard is actually just outside. Aha, my useless information brain kicked out.
Ectopia Cordis!
Which is what I think every time the cafe has loads of customers. Many fresh from sea swimming, some mamils/mammals (Middle-aged men in Lycra). People who still go into the office within the RWY. People having work meetings in the sun.
Ponder #2. Ectopia Cordis.
Ponder #3 came from my earlier work on our little yard and the guns carried by the men in camouflage. Guns are a very rare sight in England.
I have been following yard or container growing pages on Instagram. A contributor yesterday suggested improving security when there is a rear access point. I read the article with interest as the rear doors on our yard are definitely a project for the future. The simple plan was to increase the length of the screws holding the hinges of the door to the frame. All well and good I thought until the final sentence.
” A longer screw will give you additional time to arm yourself if someone tries to break in”
The contributor was from the U.S and, if I am honest, provided me with the most unusual yard/yardening advice I have ever read.
Ponder #3 I will stick with the shorter screws and offer a cup of tea , or run away.
And that concludes our very regular half an hour dog walk.
Sun rising on a different political landscape in the United Kingdom. Yesterday no political broadcasting was allowed until 10pm. Obviously broadcasters had to find a way to swerve those regulations #dogsatpollingstations on X and Instagram featured pictures of dogs waiting patiently for their humans to make their votes . All news programmes featured images of pets patiently waiting. Hugo and Lola were happy to pose. Not least because under normal circumstances they are not permitted in this churchyard.
Hugo even kept me company in my overnight vigil to watch the rolling coverage of our election results.
We are both a little tattered round the edges this morning. I bet he wishes he loved coffee.
Serendipity struck yesterday in a moment of parking misery. The peninsular we live on was very busy yesterday. The sun was up the ferries were busy and it was school sports day. I had left my home parking spot early in the morning and struggled to find one to return to at 9:30 in the morning.
The night before I had discovered this old chain dumped by a high tide on a small beach. It was much to heavy to carry home.
In all the parking shenanigans and with some anxiety, for others trying to park to catch a ferry, I decided just to reverse a little way down a slipway at the same beach to just remove myself from the melee. A lightbulb moment. I couldn’t carry the chain but I could gently load it into the car. A few links at a time.
This morning I have repurposed it to train my Wisteria along so that ultimately the plant will wend its way around the outdoor cooking area and onto the garage roof.
One teeny tiny Wisteria shoot has been introduced to the old chain.
I hope they like each other .
The main plant is flourishing after a few weeks of yardening turmoil. Some things did not survive a weeks neglect. Anythng that will provide cool green shade is on my wish list. One of the beach bars in Greece really raised our yardening goals last week.
Carefully planted trees in a courtyard, their trained branches minimally supported by a pergola and grape vines growing along the edges.
Yardening perfection.
We are a long way off but a work in progress is progress.
Meanwhile the middle aisle of Aldi has provided us with Solar festoon lights. Nature is at long last providing enough sun to light up the yard at night. Small victories suggesting that summer has arrived.
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