Garden days

This week we spent a couple of nights staying with my brother and sister in law.  They live less than 2 hours drive away but we took a leisurely drive calling at an extensive and expensive plant nursery with a Michelin standard restaurant.  I treated myself and SIL to a scented geranium each.  We drove on to Helmsley where we hoped to lunch at the walled garden but it’s closed Tuesdays.   Instead we bought sandwiches and soft drinks and sat in the market square where MrFF admired the various motor bikes that stop there after riding over the moors. As he said they are all ridden by older and probably retired people, the machines far too costly for younger folk.

We didn’t do much at my brothers apart from talk a lot and eat a lot.  We watched the Tour de France and the football otherwise we were out in the lovely garden.  

My brother was up early each morning for strategic watering and I was happy to join him dead heading the many and varied containers they have.  

J

I particularly like this pig feeder in an area of the garden that reflects our farming heritage with old cart wheels and a vintage match plough, a skill for which my brother won many competitions and I and my parents spent many afternoons standing in a cold field usually on the windy wolds watching.

On the way home we stopped near York to visit and have lunch with friends.  They too have a beautiful garden, they are real plant people with collections of orchids,  carniverous plants and agapanthus.  They are also kind enough to home some of my more precious balcony and house plants when we are away including of course the Middleton lemons who have been repotted are thriving.  

I was surprised but delighted to see how many plants had been away, I thought the balcony was going to be overcrowded so I left a skimmia for now.   In fact it looks just fine and our relaxing time away has convinced me that more is more.

And as if gardening and eating meals outdoors wasn’t summery enough back in Ilkley we had a brass band at the bandstand, a stall selling tea and home made cakes and an ice cream van. I love a proper English summer, I am so happy to be here.

My bicycle

My bicycle is one of these, a blue one, photo from the Claude Butler catalogue.  I bought it when I was in my mid 3Os, I am now 77 and I still own it. I can remember learning to cycle as a child,  it was a but like learning to swim, it seemed impossible until suddenly it wasn’t and you never unlearn.  

I have covered a lot of miles on this bike, regularly cycling 12 miles to work then back again, long rides with MrFF onto the North York Moors, Youth Hostelling holidays into the Dales and the Lake District.  I truly fell in love with my bike, I think MrFF is on his third model but I have been faithful to mine.

When we moved to Ilkley Claude came with me but languished with other bikes in a storage cupboard in our basement.  Whilst Ilkley has a large cycling population and one of the largest cycling clubs in the UK, the roads here are extremely busy, even the little back roads, I didn’t think I had the confidence to ride.   I remember seeing my bike just once over the last 12 years and thought it was in quite poor condition, I considered trying to sell it for renovation.  Then last week MrFF called me down to the basement, he’d taken my bike out of the cupboard and pumped up the tyres.  It’s actually in great condition and everything seems to work.  

Now I am wondering if I could manage a bit more pedalling even if it’s just round the quiet residential streets, I’ve never been afraid to dismount and push if the situation got tricky.  There’s just one problem.  I chose a bike with a man’s frame, it has a cross bar which maximises structural integrity and gives better handling.  In my prime I confidently threw my leg over the cross bar to mount, last week there was no quick swing of the leg.  I really struggled to get my leg high enough to clear the bar.  I can still touch my toes, I thought i was reasonably flexible, this was a bit of a shock.  This week when I am not watching the Tour de France you may find me hanging onto the furniture whilst practising swinging my leg high, take no notice.

Engineering solutions

The last week, our first week home, was mighty hot in the penthouse.  All the apartments open onto a central glazed atrium, where on the top floor under the glass the heat collects.  it’s been a constant 30 degrees outside our front door.   We slept with the balcony doors and our bedroom windows open to the outside but considered it a success if we got the room temperatures down to 26 degrees.

In the kitchen we have 2 ceiling fans 1 at either end and there is also 1 in our bedroom, they at least move the air about.  However the pull chords for these are all too high me to operate.  The resident engineer tells me they are standard length, for him maybe. I am told not to climb onto chairs or balance on the bed, reaching up while standing on a mattress without wobbling is quite a challenge.  I told him I have no alternative but I was wrong, MrFF showed me the answer was always there in the kitchen utensils jar.  I am now in full control of ventilation and pasta.

Annecy

After the tyre trauma we were back in the car next day driving to France for our two night stop near Annecy.   I was really looking forward to spending a day in the town, a 15 minute train ride from our apartment.  The day we arrived we’d made a slight detour to drive down the lakeside, it was well worth the extra travel time.  We passed beautiful alpine houses to arrive at the most turquoise water I have ever seen, it was almost unreal.  

The lakeside was busy but calm with people in and out of the water, Annecy is a smart and expensive town with very modern apartment buildings and a beautiful old town. We couldn’t wait to return for a proper visit, 

Next day was hot, 30 degrees, but we walked about 7 miles exploring the little canals, the chateau, parks and the lakeside.  The lakeside promenades were wide, the parks frequent and shady with lots of street taps for drinking water, boats of all kinds, lovely pavement cafes, it was all I’d hoped for and more, what a nice day we had. 

Breakdown

On our first day of travel Wednesday we were 2 hours from our first stop when we had a tire blow out on a busy dual carriageway.  We were able to get to a pull off where MrFF unpacked the rather full boot to get the emergency wheel,  jacked up the car, got the wheel nuts off but couldn’t shift the wheel.  All this with traffic speeding last and Lorrie’s wafting over our red warning triangle. I was standing for 3 hours behind the safety barrier amongst briars and all kinds of rubbish, there was no where to sit down.  Our breakdown cover was pretty useless so we phoned a local garage who put us in touch with a tire fitter. Eventually rescue arrived, the temporary wheel was fitted and we followed the mechanic back to the tyre shop where he said they had a used tyre to fit.  They wanted 150 euros for a bald not quite the right size tyre, we paid for the assistance and limped away on the replacement good for 50 miles at 50 miles per hour.  

After several phone calls, how did we cope before mobile phones, we located at Kwikfit Italia in Pisa what we needed.  They were fantastic, we got 2 new rear tyres, a shady place to sit and a gift of cantucci biscuits.  Instead of arriving at our hotel around 4 for a swim and a snooze we were there by 9 but we got dinner, the warmest of welcomes and later watched England win their first game of the World Cup with the family.  They’d put up the England flag for us and when Harry Kane scored the mama gave us both a hug.  Lovely people, we were restored after an awful ordeal that could have been a lot worse

Heading home

We leave tomorrow after 2 months in Italy.  We are at the usual miserable stage of closing down the house, packing while worrying about leaving the garden and our cat Olive.  I think we are both ready to go after all the usual weeks of work, gardening, roof repairs, painting, it’s getting hotter and mosquitoes are here.  So back to ilkley and our hopefully sunny little balcony that really cannot compete with this one

We have a night near Portofino tomorrow, two nights in Annecy and one in the champagne region, home on Sunday evening.  A heatwave is forecast in France and warmer weather in the UK.  

No mow May

This year I finally persuaded MrFF to stop mowing one of the areas of grass that he optimistically calls lawn. We’ve never in 22 years had anything like a decent lawn, without using hundreds and gallons of water and having a decent irrigation system not one they only covers small patches it’s impossible.  It’s also unnecessary. 

This year when we returned after he’d dealt with the knee high grass he settled into his routine of regular mowing.  After he’d cut the smaller higher area it looked like this.

I don’t think there is a blade of lawn grass in there, lots of dead couch grass, lots of live couch grass and some weeds.  Over the years we’ve tried to resow with suitable lawn seed, fertilised and applied weed and feed, all to no avail.  This year I told him it looked terrible and asked him to stop, cue heated discussion.  I eventually persuaded him to leave the lower larger area, it’s full of clover, pink, white and yellow and various wild flowers, maybe a few dandelions and other annoying weeds but I can live with them.  

The bees and butterflies are loving what I now call the lower meadow, it’s a joy to stroll down there and see the variety of pollinators feeding.  Not mowing apparently also increases the habitat for spiders, beetles etc and allows for deeper root development increasing drought resistance. It’s also saving MrFF effort and resources, I am not sure he is convinced but me and the environment love it.  No mow May and June are likely, in July and August we won’t be here, result.