Wednesday 17 June 2020

For the Bench is level, but the Garden's Bent

On this special day, the Blog Dog would like to take you for a tour of mr ishmael's garden.

  We'll start with the rosa rugosa,  a sweet-smelling, blossomy corridor.


Would you care to rest on the bench that mr ishmael made? The bench is level, but the garden is bent.
There are a great many trees - this is laburnum
and here's a cordyline from mr mike's part of the world

And strange jungle plants - gunnera, really - eight foot tall, just topping the wall

and lots of flowers everywhere -blue geraniums



and mr ishmael's favourite lupins

and aliums


And now I shall sit me down and tell sad stories of the death of kings.






19 comments:

Anonymous said...

Brava, Mrs Ishmael, and thank you.

v./

mrs ishmael said...

au contraire, mr verge, thank you for your work on the anthology and for reminding me about the level bench in a slightly-skewed world.

Mike said...

Very beautiful, Mrs I. If that garden were down here, you would have to keep a wary eye out for snakes and spiders. Harris would be a tasty morsel for a python.

mongoose said...

It's a great garden, mrs i, and a great spot. The building of deliberately non-level things is easy. It's the acceptance that is difficult. I, alas, am not there yet either and so I understand why the bench is a level sore thumb. The rhubarb is fantastic.

Oldrightie said...

Sublime.

mrs ishmael said...

mr Harris would see off your nasty pythons, mr mike - didn't you read about his heroic routing of the cow invasion? And them's big, smelly buggers. He may have the body of a weak and feeble Yorkshire Terrier, but he has the heart and stomach of a Wolf.

One day, mr mongoose, I'll post you some pictures of the real rhubarb - yards and yards of it-In action how like an Angel, In apprehension how like a god, the beauty of the world. I used to pull it out of its beds to fill great sacks and gift them to the kitchens of the care homes, with stringent words of caution - this rhubarb should be approached with circumspection and caution, it's excoriating effect on the bowel to be delicately ameliorated with small portions snd gentle custards.

mr oldrightie, thank you, glad you are here - a neighbour said she liked the wild look that hung about the garden - I said it was an inevitable consequence of the Great War, before which, there were 6 men working on the garden and glebe, now it's just me, and although I have the heart and stomach of a mighty Victorian Head Gardener, I have the body of a weak and feeble woman, so a touch of the very fashionable wild garden is entirely acceptable. It ain't suburban.

Bungalow Bill said...

Lovely to see it all, Mrs I.

mrs ishmael said...

Thank you,mr bb, but that is not all, by any means. Next time, there will be a tour of the yard, the brew house and the lane. This morning, after the haar burned off and the sun warmed the sea, Harris and I paddled in the little ripples and dried our feet in the white sand before walking home by the tattie field and the kye among the buttercups. No, it's not suburban.

Bungalow Bill said...

Looking forward to it. I see you’d been running things in 2014 too.

mongoose said...

Rhubard and Blackberry Pie, mrs i, is the food of lions. With custard, yes, of course.

Mike said...

The brew house, Mrs I. I do like the sound of that. And a still?

mrs ishmael said...

mr ishmael did what he could, mr bb, when his health permitted it, but there were times when he couldn't even get into the garden, let alone work in it, especially after the surgical excision of the soft tissue of his right foot to halt the galloping spread of life-threatening necrotising soft tissue infection - that kept him bed-ridden for a longish while, companioned by morphine, until he progressed to a wheelchair, re-constructive plastic surgery with sharkskin and three months in the hyperbaric chamber. You'll remember that health crisis from his posts at the time.So I've had to do my ramshackle best to maintain some sort of order in the garden to prevent it taking over, like the Sleeping Beauty's Castle

mrs ishmael said...

Never tried companioning rhubarb and blackberries, my mongoose, prob'ly need a mountain of sugar. I recommend poached rhubarb and strawberries, with a good squeeze of vanilla paste and a glug of port, served with Jersey cream. Cuts down on the pastry and sugar components, which is important when cooking for a diabetic.

Sorry to disappoint you, mr mongoose, but the brew house is a ruinous building, no roof, three high stone walls, and grass and rose bay willow herb for a floor. In its day, it would have been some building, with a wide, arched doorway, flagstone floor and a boiler on a platform so that you could set the fire beneath it. It would probably have been used for brewing beer and washing clothes.

The Noblest Prospect said...

I'm afraid I've been marked absent since shortly after I heard of our sad loss in January. I do have a sick-note, however. Just spent a few weeks with the doctorbastards in the Churchill, battling, but ultimately failing to save my colon from ulcerative colitis. At least I've avoided the fuckinvirus.

To have such an accomplished continuation of the blog has been a real boost to my recuperation, for which I thank you greatly, Mrs I. A pleasure to be back and to read that his legacy is in such good hand.

Kindest regards. tnp.

mongoose said...

You'd be right there, mrs i, it needs sugar but not so much as I like the bite. We have buckets of blackberries here every year but cannot grow a leaf of rhubarb.

Bungalow Bill said...

An extraordinary feat to have endured all that and to be able to turn out his brilliant pieces, Mrs I. I was reminded of the way words and thoughts came together so zingingly for him when I was reading the comments bit on the 2014 post.

Best wishes for your health, Mr TNP.

mrs ishmael said...

Welcome back, mr the noblest prospect, welcome! I'm so glad you are able to join us, and thank you for your kind words. I'm doing my poor best to keep this cybercorner alive, and there's a wealth of mr ishmael's unpublished work to draw on, but, as ever, it is the commentariat that make these pages what they are, the quality of the discourse and the mutual kindness of the family that shelter here, observing and commenting on Ruin.
You've had a tough time of it, down there, in the Churchill. I do hope that your recuperation continues apace, that the coronabollocks doesn't strike you down, and that the doctorbastards (who are, incidentally, all heroes now) can be kept well away.

mrs ishmael said...

I know, mr bb, it is a huge loss we have suffered. He was a brilliant writer, and it is in his responses to comments that you see the speed, erudition and flexibility of his mind. We are fortunate in having his past work to dip into at will - as long as Blogger endures. Just dip into any of the posts listed on the right, below the little icons of his followers. You won't be disappointed.

Mike said...

Mrs I: have you ever thought of something like this for the garden

https://www.rt.com/russia/492459-lenin-trees-siberia-drone/