Brought to mind . . .

I have just been reading Denise's post (An English Girl Rambles) about the first gift her husband, at that time her fairly recent boyfriend, gave her. It was so romantic and I sighed happily and smiled and thought, 'What was the first thing Barry ever gave me?'
I asked him a few moments ago if he remembered and he replied instantly and, what is more, correctly! I was most impressed. It was, after all, a very long time ago! He was then an officer cadet at RMA Sandhurst, frantically fit, a boxer (excellent), runner (life-long) and enthusiastic participant in many another sweat-inducing sport and pastime. He was straight-backed, square-shouldered, blue-eyed and blond. To be more precise his hair was sandy rather than golden. It was this that made me compare him to a child's toy, a bear, and to his credit he was touched rather than irritated! The next time he came to see me he gave me a cuddly, growly teddy bear, which kept me company all the times we were apart and who later growled for our small children to make them smile.

My bear still has his growl, but he lost his original ribbon many years ago – I think it was red. His fur is worn and thin in places and his stuffing is forcing its way out. He really should spend time in the dolls' hospital but I don't want to send him away so he lives quietly in a drawer now, only occasionally emerging for a quick cuddle or, as today, a photo call!

Thank you, Denise, for jogging my memory. My bear was the first of many thoughtful gifts from my husband. Barry's hair is still sandy, touched with grey, his eyes still blue, but the military bearing disappeared long ago, the result, he swears, of all the cross-country running he's done through the decades.

A growly bear and flowers whose heads fell off remain memories that always make me smile – and the fact that he used to shave in the train on his way to see me.

Today's Flowers #77

My flowers today are not real but representations. My mother was a skilled needlewoman and produced many lovely things in her lifetime.

The first photograph is of roses. There was quite a lot of gold thread in it; metallic threads are very difficult to work with - they twist and knot, or separate, and it is hard to create even stitches.

The second photo is a close-up of three of the roses.

The third embroidery is bright and cheerful. My parents loved gardening and their garden was always filled with colour and interest which attracted birds and insects.
Thank you to the Today's Flowers team who work so hard to organise this weekly meme.
To see more flowers please click here.

A bouquet of flowers

It is always delightful to receive flowers. When we were courting (I love the romanticism of that old expression!) Barry sometimes greeted me with a beautiful bouquet. Ours was a long-distance romance as he was in the army and I was at college so our times together were infrequent and marked by long separations. Though naturally I couldn't have foreseen it this pattern was a sound preparation for our marriage as Barry spent much time away from home, either because he was working long hours late into the night in various UK locations or was physically in another country – this continued and became more evident after he retired from the army at the grand old age of 32!
I know of husbands who give their wives flowers on a regular basis – Friday evenings, for example, as well as the more usual birthdays and wedding anniversaries. It's a charming idea but I wonder if it becomes a habit that is barely noticed and perhaps not fully appreciated. I love to receive flowers but for me they are all the more special when they are given spontaneously. Even so, the traditional floral gifts marking a baby's birth were wholly acceptable. I know of one husband (not mine) who realised that it was customary to give something to a newly-delivered mother. He decided he wanted to find something different to the usual posy, thought long and hard and proudly presented his wife, the exhausted mother of his first child, with a set of saucepans! If she had been less weary she might well have set about him with them.
Barry frequently came home from long days in London on the last train. (Occasionally, he fell asleep and missed his stop!) He would pass the flower sellers near the railway station and often bought flowers from them. One night he arrived home happily bearing a large bunch. It had been a miserably dark and rainy evening and he felt sorry for the flower seller who simply wanted to rid himself of his stock and go home. Barry gave him all his loose change. They were lovely flowers though I cannot now recall what they were. I unwrapped them to arrange them in a vase and as I did so all the heads fell off! However, it was the thought that counted and made me smile – and not the thought that I might be pleased but that the flower seller had had a happy ending to his day thanks to my husband's kind heart.

ABC Wednesday Round 5 - Q is for Quercus

A wise old owl lived in an oak

The more he saw the less he spoke

The less he spoke the more he heard.

Why can't we all be like that wise old bird?

The oak is traditionally considered to be the national tree of England, long associated with ship-building. Its acorns or 'mast' provided food for pigs and the tannin in its bark was used in the production of leather.

Britain has two native oaks, the English or Pedunculate (Quercus robur)and the Sessile or Durmast (Quercus petraea). The English oak is more rugged than the Sessile though there has been a certain amount of interbreeding between them. The English oak has short-stemmed leaves and long-stemmed acorn cups and the Sessile has long-stemmed leaves and stalkless acorn cups. The acorns of both trees are green like their cups but turn brown by autumn.

The Holm Oak (Quercus ilex)is Britain's only evergreen oak and was introduced from the Mediterranean in the 16th century. The leaves are long with no lobes and the acorns are short with at least half contained in a downy cup. The acorns are green at first and take two years to ripen.

The Turkey Oak (Quercus cerris) has deeply lobed leaves, mossy-cupped acorns and rough dark grey bark. It was introduced in 1753, probably from the Balkans.

The Red Oak (Quercus rubra) has light grey bark and sharply angled lobes to the leaves with the veins of the lobes extending like bristles beyond the point. The acorns are short and broad in shallow cups. They ripen in the second year. The Red Oak is one of several North American red oaks planted in Britain for the richness and beauty of their autumn colour.

Oak woods provide food and shelter for a great variety of wildlife and their leaves rot into a soft mulch to support trees and shrubs such as Ash, Hazel and Holly. Their open canopies allow much light to filter through so that flowers like primroses, bluebells and violets thrive in the rich soil.

An oak tree supports at least 350 insect species, more than any other tree in Britain. Great Spotted Woodpeckers, Nuthatches and Tree Creepers feed on the insects that live in the bark. Squirrels harvest the acorns and act as gardeners, burying their hoard in several different places. Wood pigeons, rooks and mice also feed on fallen acorns. Birds and small mammals in their turn attract Sparrowhawks, Buzzards and Owls.

I couldn't tell you which oaks are these in my photographs - I think they are English oaks though the first one looks more like a Sessile oak . . . too late and too dark now to go into the garden and carry out an identification!

Heart of Oak is the official march of the Royal Navy and the Royal Canadian Navy. In this clip it is played by the Band of the Royal Marines. In case you feel like singing along, the words (written by the acclaimed 18th century English actor David Garrick) of the first verse and chorus are below! The 'wonderful year' of the verse is 1759-1760 during which the British were victorious at the Battle of Lagos, the Battle of Quebec City,the Battle of Quiberon Bay and the Battle of Wandiwash in India.

Come, cheer up, my lads, 'tis to glory we steer,

To add something more to this wonderful year;

To honour we call you, as freemen not slaves,

For who are so free as the sons of the waves?

(Chorus)

Heart of oak are our ships, jolly tars are our men,

We always are ready; Steady, boys, steady!

We'll fight and we'll conquer again and again.

Thanks are due to Mrs Nesbitt for hosting this meme. To see other 'Qs' please click here.

Six Word Saturday

I can't believe it's Saturday again!

Where does the time go? I mean, it's not as if I go out to work any more! I know that seems to imply that I work at home but I don't. I do the bare minimum.
I'm not a slob - I'd be houseproud if I weren't so lazy - but there are more interesting things to do and ponder. For instance, I often ponder doing some gardening. In my imagination I have a gorgeous plot bursting with beautiful blooms and graceful trees, my fish swim around their pond with fishy smiles on their fishy lips, the frogs croak greetings to me, the birds thank me as they gratefully partake of the food I have so generously provided for them. Even the squirrels pause long enough in their tree planting to express gratitude for the food they share with the birds. The patio is clear of leaves, the path is swept, the tree trunks brushed and polished, the plants dead-head themselves and the spiders do their work outside and never dream of stepping foot (or feet) indoors. (I think I've seen too many cartoons!) Sigh . . . In reality, everything in the garden is fighting for supremacy, the flowers have run riot, the fish are invisible beneath the rampaging pond plants, the ground is so soggy it's like a giant mud sponge and I feel I am fighting a losing battle. Then, suddenly, everything will be barren again, sunk below the surface to plot fresh attacks in the Spring. of course, if I were a proper gardener, I would be working all year round, whatever the weather, to keep my little piece of England neat and tidy, productive and profitable - but when it's cold - or hot - or wet - or windy - I stay indoors and gaze out at the wilderness. Actually I love my garden - it's natural (well, that's one way of putting it) It attracts an abundance of wild life and the flowers and shrubs yield their beauty and scent freely to whoever passes.
Thank you to Cate from 'Show My Face' for hosting this meme.
To satisfy your curiosity why not visit other participants here?

Flower Power

Not only does Buddy Liver Spots enjoy brushing through and standing under shrubs and plants, he also likes smelling flowers. Lying on the sofa next to a table holding a vase of flowers he stretched his nose to sniff the Stargazer lily - beautiful strong scent . . . mmmmm . . .

Unfortunately, lily pollen stains so Buddy is temporarily a liver-spotted Dalmatian with a golden spot on the top of his head.

Flower Crampons for Busy Bees

Many plants rely on insects for pollination. The insect that probably comes to mind most readily as a pollinator is the bee.

Some flowers have petals covered in tiny cells like pyramids and scientists have discovered that the purpose of these conical structures is to help bees get a good foothold. In order to discover this the researchers created very convincing artificial flowers from epoxy resin, making some with cones and some without. A sugar solution was placed inside and bumble bees were set free in the laboratory to ascertain their preference.

When the flowers were horizontal the bees showed no particular inclination, treating coned and coneless flowers impartially. However, when the flowers were angled the bees preferred the rough surfaces to the smooth and more so as the angles grew steeper. High-speed film showed that on the smooth petals the bees’ feet were unable to gain a good purchase and they were having to beat their wings fast to maintain their position, using a great deal of energy in the process.

In a separate study the pyramidal cells were found to act like solar panels, warming the petals and the nectar which benefitted the bees, allowing them to use their energy for their prime purpose of collecting nectar and pollen.

In the following photographs there are different species of bees. Bee identification is not one of my skills so I am unsure of naming them correctly!

White-tailed bumble bee - Bombus lucorum - on Chives


Bombus lucorum again

Honey bee - Apis mellifera - on flowers of Physocarpus Opulifolius (Common Ninebark) 'Dart's Gold'
Bumble bee - Bombus terrestris? - on Common Ninebark flowers

Buff-tailed Bumble bee - Bombus terrestris - on Herb-Robert

A walk in the forest - May 18th 2009

Last evening we walked with our dogs around 7:00 p.m. It was a lovely evening, rich with the scent of may blossom and of tall nettles coming into flower.

Young growth on Scots Pine

Bracken fronds are unfurling. The tightly curled heads are called fiddleheads and can be eaten cooked or preserved. Suddenly I caught sight of a roe deer - the following photos are rather blurred . . . In the first one the deer has seen me and is watching intently.

In the second photograph it is taking flight. Fortunately Jenna-the-Labrador and Frodo the Faller didn't see or scent it or our walk would have been greatly extended.

In the third and last photo it is about to find cover in the trees.There are many rhododendrons in the forest. They are considered rather a pest but most walkers enjoy their flamboyant colourful flowers. Here their buds are beginning to open. In winter ladybirds hibernate on the undersides of the leaves.
Dominie enjoys the independence her wheels give her - she can stop and sniff at will.
The only problem with walking later in the day is the midges!

Flowers and bracelets

My mother-in-law always sends flowers for my birthday and this year was no exception. The flowers, beautifully scented Longiflorum lilies, arrived two days after my birthday looking a little limp. With some hesitation I told her this while I was thanking her for them and she was most indignant for she had ordered them to be delivered on the due date. She is in her nineties but still fully aware of what she has ordered and when, and so she contacted the company to make a gentle but insistent complaint. It transpired that the company was not at fault – they had dispatched the flowers in good time. In fact, because the local Royal Mail depot is being closed down, everything is being sent to Swindon and there is chaos. The flower company 'Bunches' is ill served by this change but today, by way of apology, a further delivery of wonderful Longiflorum lilies arrived, with a complimentary box of chocolates. Delightful – though I did think the floral apology should have been delivered to my mother-in-law. Now I have a vase full of these gorgeous blooms – thank you, Dorothy – thank you, Bunches.

For this birthday my husband had taken enormous pains to design a beautiful bracelet in the process of which he was given tremendous help and advice from 'mememe jewellery and accessories'. The bracelet was destined to arrive by 1:00 p.m. on the day before my birthday and of course it had to be signed for, so the entire day was spent waiting for it to be delivered. Many phone calls were made between Berkshire and Newcastle upon Tyne and eventually a very nice South African, JJ, drove from Swindon to hand it to my relieved husband, just after 5:00 p.m. The next day our local postie told us that JJ is the best boss he's ever had.

There are so many helpful, pleasant people 'out there' doing their very best to provide excellent service. How sad it is that they are let down so often by the apparently unnecessary reorganisation of services.

In the garden . . .

I'm not an expert gardener but I do enjoy our garden. It is alive with birds and bees and butterflies and later in the year the dragonflies and damselflies will hawk and hunt and mate around the pond. I sometimes buy on impulse from garden centres and think later where I'll put new plants. Consequently there is little plan or pattern to our small plot. It is not tidy and everything grows abundantly in glorious disarray. Somehow, though, it seems to work. It is pretty and scented and colourful.

I enjoy seeing the faithful perennials come back to life. Kerria Japonica flowers brightly and bravely for many weeks, its sunny yellow brightening up dark corners and darker days. Lily of the Valley and Aquilegia, which disappear completely in winter, emerge in April. Mint, growing by the pond, is tall and strong and has a wonderful, mouth-watering scent when bruised. Forget-me-nots, pink and blue, bloom much more shrinkingly than the violets, which I love to see, though I have never planted them, and which glow in the sunshine and happily spread further every year.
There are moments of pure joy, caught out of the corner of my eye – the green of Choisya Ternata's older leaves gracefully complementing the slightly darker hue of the Laurel. Last week I noticed the purple flowers of Honesty blooming next to the bright lime green (or is it lemon yellow?) of our Common Ninebark (Physocarpus opulifolius) 'Dart's Gold'.