At the weekend

It was our turn to host the book club at the weekend and the request for supper was to have fish and chips from Chez Fred's. The weather was disgraceful, torrential downpours, sufficiently miserable for us to light the stove and set the table in the warmth of the kitchen. We were discussing, 'Snow Country' by Yasunari Kawabata and I didn't get on with it at all. (Review over on Miss Cellany.)

On Sunday the weather improved and we walked on the beach. The lifeguard station was manned and flags flying to mark where it was best to swim. (We weren't tempted.)

This year the art for charity is a fish/ mermaid? tail.

When we got back from the beach we polished off the pudding left over from the night before!

Mottisfont Rose Garden

Yesterday we had a family outing to Mottisfont, famous for it's collection of old roses. The National Trust had announced that due to the long spell of hot, dry weather the roses were in bloom earlier than usual and the message had certainly got about because many hundreds of people came, like us, to enjoy all the scent and colour within the walled garden. The Mottisfont estate is huge and happily absorbs great numbers, so, although our hearts sank when we saw the size of the over-spill carpark, it was no problem, plenty of space for all to sit, to run about, to picnic or walk beside the river. We had a wonderful day. I saw some very beautiful roses, peonies and iris (and made a hopeful note of some of the names!) I'm just going to blast you with my photos and hope you can imagine the wafts of perfume that come from these old varieties. Enjoy!

There were lovely colour and texture plantings, it really was a joy to see.

And a painting to make you smile of the one time owner in bed, reading her mail!

Summer colour

Hurrah, the water butts are full, the soil no longer resembles dust, June arrives at the weekend and the roses are starting to bloom. I took a few rose snippets when we left the gamekeeper's cottage and now, two and a half years later, those snippets are performing well. "Isaphan' from a neighbour's garden is forming a healthy bush.

'Constance Spry' and what I thought was a cutting from 'Charles de Mills' are now flowering in a very inhospitable strip of ground at the side of the drive.

The rain has caused all the growth to rampage and we've had to do a bit of cutting back to avoid getting a swat of wet leaves and branches whenever we walk outside. I like it but Himself gets a little grumpy about water going down the back of his neck or slapping against his legs.

Water, water everywhere.

At last we've had some rain, enough to wash much of the yellow pollen, dust and debris off the roof. But I'm hoping for more to come as after many weeks of drought the soil is still very dry.

In the afternoon we went to to see an exhibition and aural history in neigbouring Poole. The towns of Bournemouth and Poole are now merged into one large conurbation but were once separate and distinctly different places. Poole is surrounded by water, a fisherman's town, with lake and bays and harbour.We found a spot by the lake to leave the car and walked by the water to the exhibition venue.

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