Gardening and suchlike

We've taken advantage of some decent weather recently to get some order back into the garden, here and there.  The local nursery is doing a roaring trade at the moment: we've spent a week's pension so far on soil, grit, compost, bark and a few new perennials.  Martyn has laboured mightily on clearing beds of weeds, laying a plastic membrane to discourage regrowth and spreading bark on top.  I've cut grass a couple of times, attended to the potato crop, which has needed a lot of earthing up, made a start at tackling unruly shrubs and taken cuttings.  Once the bulbs have died down, we shall do a bit more bark spreading.  The neighbours are convinced, if convincing were necessary, that we're barking.

One ceanothus shrub has died, owing, I think, to competition from woodland geraniums and spiraea nearby.  At the opposite side of the garden, another ceanothus is flowering fit to bust and obliterating its neighbours.  Curious.  I shall give it some attention when it finishes flowering.  One of the white potentillas was looking rather sick and leggy, and I've taken huge amounts of dead wood out of it.  In that instance, the problem is pencil grass which has got in amongst the potentilla's roots.  So I think it's a case of bringing on some cuttings, and digging the bed out next year.

Cistus purpureus, and Mr Gardener Bishop

If the ceanothus is being exuberant this year, the cistus purpureus is going crazy.  We've never seen it looking so good before, so maybe it's as well we didn't get round to trimming it last year.  It will need it this year, but in the meantime we're enjoying a fantastic display.  Unlike its cousin, the pulverulens, the flowers last more than a single day, and  they are larger.

Surprises today from a couple of Boeing products.  Just before lunch time I could hear radial engines, and in due course two old 1930s or 40s Stearman biplanes lumbered across.  Both were in Breitling livery, and had wing walker frames on the top deck.  They're probably the same aircraft we saw a few years ago at Shoreham, then painted up to advertise a certain margarine product...  Not long after that, I noticed on Flightradar24.com that something known as a Dreamlifter was about  to fly over us.  It's a conversion of the 747 with a swollen fuselage, used for carrying bits of 787 to the asssembly lines from wherever said bits are built.  This one was coming from Taranto.  Fuselage sections from Alenia, presumably heading for Charleston, given the routing.

Talking of questionable journeys, we've just wasted an  aller-retour to the wheel fettlers in the next town.  It was agreed yesterday that, unless I'd heard from them, I'd go and collect the car today at 16:30.  We arrived at 16:25 to find the VW still up on axle stands.  The giant (he must be a good 2m tall) at the reception desk went to check and returned to say that there were another couple of hours' work to be done.  He is to call tomorrow when the car is ready for collection.  Snarl.  None of this would have happened had I been able to trade the brute in last September as I'd intended, since the corrosion on the wheels has only become really noticeable since then.  But with still no word from VW as to when they expect to sort the emission test 'defeat device', I'm sitting on my hands, and the car is heading for its sixth birthday and 60'000 miles.  Martyn's Altea, meanwhile, is approaching eight years old, but as it has very low mileage, we'll probably run it for a bit longer.  We toyed with trading it in for something smaller a while back, but the attractions of heated leather-upholstered seats, ample space and an excellent gearbox prevailed.  Not things you find on a Volkskodeat Upmigo.