Autumn delights

I'm not normally a fan of red and yellow together, but these glorious dahlias and the vivid yellows and greens of the ginko behind them are giving us great pleasure at the moment

Today darling daughter and I are off to Knit and Stitch at Ally Pally, traveling up from the south coast to stay overnight so we are fresh for the fray tomorrow. We will be taking a class in something called "broomstick crochet" which I have been vaguely aware of in the past, though having no notion what it entails. 

We'll try not to spend too much ....

Biblioproblem?

We are having our sitting room redecorated in the coming week or so, new carpet, new colour on the walls, new hearth. This, of course, means emptying the room of all that is movable in preparation. In doing this I may have to acknowledge that I find it hard to say no to books!!

There are now numerous smaller piles in my study - these are gardening and art history

and two very large piles (almost teetering in fact) in my dear heart's study - the "oversize" collection of history and art history

This is the contents of just one room - it doesn't include: the two bookcases under the stairs (more art history, textiles, and design), three in my study (embroidery, textiles, mythology, philosophy, more history. poetry), four in his study (Africa, aircraft, general and history), one in the sewing room (embroidery, knitting and crochet), another in the upstairs "anything" room (more Africa, more history) and the small collection in the kitchen (cookery of course). A few have been put to one side for the charity shop box, but not very many. I may have acquired some of these since the last culling twelve years ago!

I wonder if one can take bibliophilia too far?

Quiet corner

I can see these flowers from my kitchen window as I potter about. I have been loving the little gathering of warm colours, part of the corner display my dear heart put together for our open gardens day back in July. Two delicious dahlias and, in between, cheerfully nodding cosmos. We have been dead heading and watering as much as energy will allow and they are rewarding us with this heartwarming display

Elsewhere the garden is sparse and brown, but some good heavy downpours are forecast, at long last, for the south east corner, so perhaps things will green up a little before we dive down into winter. 

Gardening is all about hope isn't it?

Being open

We opened our garden for the annual Hospice gardens scheme once again today. A beautifully sunny day, which has resulted in a white "halo" on my chest where my necklace sat, protecting me from the sun which was shining down with some enthusiasm!

Once again, our hearts were warmed by the positive comments from folk who visited. We had felt it wasn't "up to scratch" this year, what with the heat, no rain, and both of us feeling a bit overwhelmed by all that needed to be done beforehand; there were too many bare patches of earth, things planted have not thrived, and fewer things have been planted that we planned. One of my failings is being seduced by tempting pots in garden centres which then languish as I ponder where to put them! However, the day dawned, folk were kind, and we have reached the end of it having welcomed over 100 people and had some delightful conversations along the way. 

So, just a few pics for you to enjoy a little of what they saw, while we sit down and contemplate the pleasure of sharing this space

You can see why I got a little bit pink!

The good man does a very fine line in beautifully planted pots

we are very pleased with our new bespoke pond cover, no more fish lost to the heron we hope

one of the lovely dahlias darling daughter gave the man for Christmas last year

As I was crouching above the pond to look across the garden I sensed a delicate fluttering and heard a tiny high pitched peep. If you look very closely at centre left, below the peak of the pond cover, you'll see a little goldcrest just about to land on the top level of the waterfall to take a few sips of water

To paraphrase Christopher Lloyd, if you are out in the garden enough, the birds will take no more notice of you than if you were a sheep or a cow. 

Dixter delight

We are so lucky to live within easy driving distance of this lovely garden. This week we had a very pleasurable visit from some members of my dear heart's family, including the recipient of this quilt, who has now grown into the most delightful little person who kept us very busy on the afternoon she and her parents were with us. My darling girl came round as well, and definitely fell in love!

The following day, four of us drove through the winding Sussex countryside to visit Great Dixter. The weather was wonderfully bright and breezy, and despite a brief and very threatening looking selection of clouds, it stayed dry and warm and the garden was at its wild and wonderful best.

The planting there, in particular in the areas bordered by yew hedging, is both tall and dense, which means you wander through, perpetually surprised and inspired by a new and interesting combination of plants. The style could be called relaxed or chaotic depending on your taste. I find the sense of enclosure creates a wonderful aura of mystery and timelessness. You are in a jewel box of colour, scent, movement and sound with occasional glimpses of the red brick and tiles of the house itself. For a change of view you can find your way out to areas of meadow planting and the arresting topiary yews. It is a space I could cheerfully spend many hours in, just watching, listening and absorbing. 

I thought you might like to share some of the pleasures

saying goodbye

Regular readers will be familiar with our lovely Cat Chaps, Rum and Raisin. They came into our lives in late 2008, rescued from a very good RSPCA Center in Hastings. We had lost three cats in the previous couple of years and I had been sent out to find "just one female cat", but these brothers captured my heart and so became part of our family. They had been deserted when previous owners moved house and left them to fend for themselves. Raisin was quite extrovert, came out of their "pod" to see who I was and trotted about looking very cheerful; Rum was the shy one, refusing to come and perform, but when I put my hand carefully into the space where he was he let me stroke his head, very briefly, before ducking it away with a motion that became utterly familiar to me over time. It was his "not now, but maybe later" declaration of independence. I couldn't leave them there after that. 

Christmas in the menagerie window of daughter's old bedroom

Since they arrived we have moved house, coming to our current home after my Mum died in 2010, and they have appeared from time to time here as part of our happy lives. They found the advent of a much larger new garden rather overwhelming at first, especially as it was dusted over with frost and then snow in the first few weeks

Crikey, this needs a bit of a tidy up

But they soon settled in, and games of "cowboys and Indians" on the lawn, followed by exhausted luxuriating in the warm sun on the path, became a regular entertainment for us and them

a peaceful pause with paws

As all lovers of pets know, we only have them for a short time, and last week I had to take our beloved Rum to the vets for a final visit. He was very poorly and one always knows what the kindest course is when this happens, but the repetition of loss makes it no easier to bear. My daughter and I took him along, the Good Man being too upset to come this final time. All was done with great kindness and gentleness, and his leaving this earth was a quiet and peaceful passing. His death is a small and insignificant thing in the context of all the sadnesses that are happening in the world just now, but I found myself unable to come back to writing here without marking our loss. So this is to say "goodbye Rum", you were a very fine cat chap, warm and loving, always eager to be stroked and fussed and brushed, independent to the last and we miss you. We are so grateful for the joy and gentleness you brought to our lives. 

slumbering potted cat

Garden glow

Sometimes when you are delighted by something which is catching the sun in your front garden, and are hoping to capture that feeling

someone else comes along, who feels the same way, and just has to get involved

the primroses are still shining in amongst the forget me nots

our tulips, a wedding present from a friend, planted four years ago, are still bringing joy

there are hellebores, tucked away in spots behind other things, which tease with their shy beauty as they catch the evening sunlight

the rill, which runs down into the pond, tempts frequent visitors to adjust their feathers and primp and preen ready for spring courting

and the little water boy looks on serenely as the garden blooms behind him

I will be away for a couple of weeks as from next Tuesday. I am going here. I am very excited, and just a little terrified, but am expecting to see marvels and delights. There will be photographs, but perhaps not until I come home again