little groups of silent people

Wednesday Feb 6, 1952

This morning our king passed away. When I heard the news I couldn’t believe it, although he had been ill, he was so much better. Also the manner in which I heard it was hardly convincing. One of our workmen put his head through the window [of the office] and said to Mr Eldridge who was with me “the old king’s dead”. He didn’t look put out in the least. Oh how horrible everyone is becoming or is it just provincial? As mummy said, 50 years ago a man in his position would have taken his hat off and said “His Majesty has died”, or words to that effect. Muriel said quite openly that it didn’t affect her personally in the least. Janet and I felt the same, though [deeply saddened], and when I listened over the wireless & heard what was going on in London – little groups of silent people at Buckingham Palace standing outside in the drizzle and shopkeepers taking all coloured things out of the window etc, I knew that we were not in the minority. It has been so sudden and such a shock and there is poor little Princess Elizabeth rushing back from her tour of Australia – only 25 years old – and Queen of England. I suppose she has never had much freedom but she will have precious little left now or for the rest of her life. I think the Royal Family are wonderful - so courageous and brave and always smiling whatever their private feelings. I have only seen the Queen (now queen mother) in the flesh and I thought she was perfectly lovely and such a sweet and serene expression on her face and now poor dear she must go on alone and in the background. What a blessing that Princess Elizabeth had her marriage and found someone so nice and to her liking while her father was alive and could give her away etc, and also that her first baby was a boy and so made the succession to the throne right. When I think she is only my age, even if she has been trained for the job, I think she is  wonderful – so poised and so pretty too. I suppose we shall have all new stamps and money now. She is so small and yet she is now first in the land. I think she will make a lovely Queen even as her father was such a good and kind King. It seems almost unnatural to think that this time yesterday the King was alive and the Princess and the Duke were in Kenya enjoying themselves on their little holiday at the start of their long tour & everyone about their normal business and in 24 hours the princess now Queen is rushing  back to England & the whole country is in mourning.

An extract from Mum's journal. It seemed fitting today, when London, despite the pouring rain, is pouring it's heart out to Queen and occasion. I had hoped that her account of the coronation would be there as well; she saw it on a black and white TV in Battle Memorial Hall and it was the first time she went out properly with my Dad. Sadly. later in 1952 Mum's dearly loved dog Randy died aged only seven. She had longed for a puppy for years, and was given Randy as a birthday gift when she was 18. Here she is walking Randy, five years before the above entry.

Mum and her beloved Randy in the park 1947

There are no further entries after that in her journal

Evening light

As I was taking in the washing, I heard excitable small fox noises from the bottom of the garden. I slipped down very quietly to see if I could see them but they were well hidden in the undergrowth, yapping and scrapping and scuffling about. The evening light was so lovely though, that I stayed there a while just to see what I could see,

Low sunlight on the bole of the birch tree

the astrantias glowing quietly to themselves

buttercups cupping the last drops of light in their bowls

Blue eyed Marys given an interesting twist by Picasa

the grass, capturing light in glowing stripes

 Queen Anne's Lace dappling the shade

and up by the house  a vivid burst of red to cheer on the way in for supper

Fly away home

One of the things I hate about being a cat owner is the fact that they are, by nature, predatory beasts. I love them dearly, they are companionate but spoilt creatures, who give less to their owners than dogs do, ... perhaps ... but also demand less and are usually peaceable creatures after the busyness of dogs. BUT they do kill. I'm not sure The Bravest Mouse in the World hasn't, since, met his end. But today I won ... Looking out of the bathroom window, I could see Rum, on the lawn, with something small, brown and feathered looking dead on the grass. I managed to chase him off, by shouting very loud NO! from the window, at which the poor bird also took fright, but fluttered to desperate cover under the chair, while Rum backed off. I hotfooted down stairs and into the garden, but as soon as the frightened creature saw me it moved again, there was a chase, a lot of flapping, rather a lot of firm shouting, and bird managed to dart under some spreading geranium as my yells distracted Rum. I stalked, trapped, subdued and manhandled Rum into the house - securing four doors with him hanging tense and ashamed in my arms. Raisin came up to see what all the fuss was about, so he was secured indoors as well. I went very cautiously back outside, to see if the bird was still there, took him, oh so gently from his hiding place, with a towel round his back to stop him panicking. Then released him into the air. He flew away to deep cover in trees, missing some tail feathers but with a second chance in life.

Hope he'd had enough time to recover.

Cats are grounded for an hour or so!

Good morning your Ladyship

After a wonderful sunset last night, today dawned hot and sticky once more.
As I was getting dressed, I glanced out of the window upstairs and caught site of something large, striped and buzzy fossicking about in the garden. "Hmm" I thought "that's a jolly big bumble bee - I must investigate", so scurried downstairs (yes, properly dressed) and grabbed my camera.
Not a bee at all, but this exotic looking visitor.

She is a Broad-Bodied Chaser, "Libellula depressa" according to the British Dragonfly Society, and what a lovely lady she is, perched, sunning herself, absorbing all that lovely energy atop our rhododendron

I do hope the cats leave her alone

Garden loveliness and a transformation

Poppy come and gone, poppy come again. I love the contrast between the vivid orange of this California poppy and the gentle fading blue of the Himalayan one - they seem to epitomise their home countries; California, hot and zingy, full of light and energy; the Himalayas cool, ethereal and rather spiritual

the wonderful rhododendron just keeps on flowering, great flouncy heads of sugar pink around which the bees buzz in drunken delight

it chimes well with a pale purple variety nearby - we are so familiar with these lovely plants it's easy to forget their charm. As a child I would pluck the flowerheads from the one in Ganna's garden to suck the sweetness from their base

 down in the dell, Queen Anne's lace is once more filling the space with foamy white nodding heads

irresistible 

While all this loveliness is happening in the garden, up at the house, there has been a total transformation, of a similar enormity to the one that conjured a conservatory from a tatty patio.
This, pictured below just before we moved in, has been acting as a utility room.

It is just off the kitchen, was once the outside with a small coal store at the far end, you can just see the wooden hatch where the coal was delivered, behind the boiler. Previous owners covered it in with the most astonishingly Heath Robinson affair of corrugated plastic, misaligned wooden beams and an asbestos "wall". It rattled and squeaked with the slightest movement of air, the floor was a patchwork of grotty concrete, cracked tiles and tatty lino, the glass in the side door was cracked and there was a rather smelly drain, impervious to bleach and source of nocturnal visits by a tribe of cat food eating slugs, who always melted away by daybreak and who couldn't be discouraged by the most inventive of means.

Now it is a lovely bright space with glass roof and proper vinyl flooring which feels soft and warm underfoot. The end window was moved to the side, there's a cupboard and new clean countertop, plenty of shelf space to put "stuff"

and the corner next to the kitchen door now has windows looking out on the side space, destined to be a courtyard herb garden (one day!) instead of the previous, very unpleasant asbestos construction

We are, as you might guess, delighted with it. It is full of light, warm but not too hot and, joy of joys, quiet!
Thank you Phil!

cherries, ripe cherries!

I've been experimenting again; wanted to see how the cherries on dissolvable fabric might work. I thought I might as well do several as there was room within the little hoop for more than one. I traced the design on with waterproof pen, then stitched the outlines and filled things in. I was so pleased with the result, and keen not to waste the rest of the fabric, so traced off a poppy from a book of Art Nouveau flower designs and had a go at that as well.I'm really pleased with them both; the camera has managed a reasonable job of picking out the different reds. I'm waiting for the Man to return from Cricket at Lords before putting it all in water to see if it all holds together; too much fun not to share.

Gosh! This is enjoyable ....

We've spent some good time in the garden this weekend, finalising the very fine compost bin, already being put to good use. We had been using one of those great big plastic mesh delivery sacks during the year, all the usual stuff chucked in and occasionally turned and tossed about. Now it is all ready to be transferred into the proper bin. A goodly portion of it had rotted down already and will help the rest to get going.

The blowsy pink rhododendron is really flowering its socks off this year. Last year a lot of the buds were frost damaged, this year it is awash with blooms,

so much so in fact, that we have a heart of flowers - can you see it?

It all works really well with the colour of the maple leaves

a beautiful tree, given to me at least 11 years ago by Mum, kept until I knew I was stopping. It really appreciates being in the ground now, having had a year of free root run, it is rewarding us now with these wonderful finely cut leaves.

The meconopsis has yet more delicious paper thin blue flowers. The colour and the fine hairs on the stems remind me of borage

and the tulips indoors, gifted  have reached the absolute end of their beauty, translucent, veins of purple and pink flowing across the surface like spider webs of colour

or dark and mysterious in the glimmering dusk, still holding a trace of memory of light in their petals