Spring, ctd

Plenty of signs of spring in the garden: daffodils great and small blooming fit to bust, purple crocuses coming into flower and plenty of snowdrops dancing in the breeze.  The magnolia stellata is coming into flower, and the hitherto sulky red camellia is showing colour for the first time in years.  Our neighbour’s pink camellia is in fine flower, and is now a fair bit taller than the fence, so we get to enjoy it as well.  

As I mentioned last time Sheila, who came for a sandwich before Iain’s funeral, brought the beautiful pot of fritillaries in the picture.  We shall plant them out when they go over and, inshallah, continue to enjoy for years to come.  And Sandra brought the daffodils when she came to lunch last Sunday.  (Together with a rather good Côtes du Rhône Villages!)

Interesting afternoon yesterday: the local British Legion branch had organised a talk by one Mike Martin on the Russia-Ukraine war.  A former army officer, now an academic, he spoke very well and convincingly without notes.  He is also the Lib Dem candidate for our constituency, and would have got our (tactical) votes anyway, but it was good to see him in action.  

This past week we bit the bullet and ordered a new car, and it was reported to be on a ship last Monday.  We shall trade in Egg2, with some sadness, because it has served us well for almost sixteen years, and never let us down.  It has developed one or two little faults of late, and the roadside recovery people tend to decline support to cars over sixteen years old, so the time has come, (the walrus said).

And another funeral

Today’s was that of one Iain Hamilton, who used to organise our German conversation group.  A formidable intellect: he spoke more languages than you can shake a dictionary at: French, German, Dutch, Afrikaans, Czech, Danish, Italian, Spanish - and he was evidently studying Swahili and Scots Gaelic when he died, just days short of his 87th birthday.  Another ‘state funeral’, lasting an hour and a quarter or so, attended by I’d guess a good 150 at the surprisingly vast parish church down the road: Iain was a member both of the church choir and of the town’s Orpheus choir, so the congregation’s singing was well augmented.  Anthems, hymns, lengthy tributes, prayers and all the rest, and his best friend and companion Lesley read - in impeccable French - a lovely Jacques Prévert poem about two snails who went to a funeral.  

I suspended my attendance at the conversation group during last year’s health episode, but Iain kept me in the body of the kirk by asking me occasionally to find a text for the group to discuss: I usually found something Swiss, having typecast myself as a helvetophile - and got distinctly snotty when he turned his nose up at my offering!

Fellow German  conversationist Sheila came to us for a sandwich beforehand, since she was concerned about finding a parking place at the church.  I drove there, and luckily found a slot near the door.  She very kindly brought us a pot of fritillaria meleagris in flower, and they will improve our garden for years to come.

Frühlingsrauschen

 

Some welcome signs of life in the garden.  We’re beginning to see signs of the bulbs we planted last back end, and we’ve been busy with last week’s delivery from Parker’s: lilies of the valley, oriental poppies in colours we hadn’t already got.  The order came with a freebie bag of lilies which aren’t yet planted: we haven’t yet decided where to put them: decision criteria are:  close enough to see the colours, and far enough to avoid the strong scent.  I’ve dug out some perennial geraniums to make way for oriental poppies by the front door: said geraniums are good at covering a lot of ground in a hurry, but they are not among my favourites.

Good old Ernie came up trumps this month, yielding nearly enough to pay for my new specs.  I collected the same yesterday, and they seem broadly satisfactory: the distance correction area seems wider than in previous lots.  The reading correction is set a bit low, however, so I’ll need to see if the frame can be adjusted.  Given what they cost, I’m disinclined to put up with anything short of perfection.