London Flowers and a New Blog

Some lovely flowers outside Liberty's in London.

My main blog has moved here.

Balham

The previous post showed rather swanky people at Clapham.

I continued my tour of South London and relatives' houses.

On Wednesday we had a typical English summer lunch
--half at the picnic table in the garden, then indoors when it came on to rain......

This is Balham (where I was born several centuries ago) with more ordinary

 English people dressed for the middle of June. Hm.....

The overall color is gray. Good thing the rail worker got a bright jacket.

Note the newspaper reader on the left --winter jacket and all.

Oh well, I'm back in New York where it's almost too hot.

A symphony in gray and beige.

Family Reunion, Wimbledon, England

Circa 1937

A cousin who was at the reunion with his mother.... who was not

2010

Most people, including me, are already up on the stage waiting for the group photo. The reunion is held in a church hall where they have lots of tables and a kitchen and toys and things for the children to do. 

My great grandfather had fourteen children -- or rather his wife did. (Gosh!) Two died very young in the First World War. There are tables with lots of photos of relatives  -- my father,  aged two, wearing a dress --they did in those days...... and Auntie Rose looking glam on her wedding day.

All generations tumbled together (we wore name tags).  I met several people I hadn't talked to in almost forty years.

And the newest generation played around and had lots of fun......

....dancing .....

...or just looking.......

Happy Earth Day: Celebrate Early and Often

The beach in Diabat, Morocco.

The English countryside in Wiltshire, England.

Weeping Cherry in Chelsea, New York.

HAPPY EARTH DAY (Early. It is really the 22nd....)

Buster's blog here

A Last Look at the Garden

Although I'm back in New York, I'm reluctant to leave England.
As Sarah Laurence puts it, I've got blog-lag.



This little thatched hut/shack/folly which houses croquet mallets and such like
might be a home for a hermit - or a hobbit.



He could sit under the horse chestnut tree and wait for conkers to drop on his head and look out through the mist to cows on the horizon.



Or he could plan what to do with the very large stone ball outside his door.
Suggestions anyone?



Or he could wander down the garden path and think what plant should be put in the urn.



At the back door to the main house, a metal bucket waits to be filled with useful things.

Fantasy Camp and the Village Shop

I understand that some middle-aged men who, like most of their contemporaries, never made it to the big leagues pay to go to 'Fantasy' baseball camps where they put on uniforms and rush about pretending to live the baseball life.
It is the fantasy of many middle-aged women to live in an English country village.


Needless to say, I did not pay but merely went to stay with a friend who included me in all her activities.
These included decorating the church for Harvest Festival and helping out at the village shop.



Needless to say as well, the effort at the top was not done by us but someone much more accomplished.
These are bits we used in a bigger wilder (messier?) effort which included vegetables.



I still think the picture at the top is quintessentially fall/autumn.



The village shop is manned/womaned by a rota of volunteers. I'm not sure if it would survive without them.
We did the 9-11am stint on Sunday morning.
Here we are helped with the cash register. I hadn't worked in a shop since scanners and bar codes were invented.
In my day you had to work out the change yourself. Now it tells you. Hm......no math required.



The stock in the shop was wonderful. Anglophile foodies -if they exist - will discern
Marmite/Branston Pickles/Saxa Salt/Birds Custard/ HP Sauce and Carr's Water Biscuits amongst other things.
You can also buy Pinot Grigio and Pain au chocolat which weren't available in the village shops of my youth.



This is me as a trainee shop assistant. Maybe, if the economy continues to tank, this is a new career opportunity. In the long run, I would prefer a bookshop.



This cheery little boy offered to pose as a satisfied customer.

Note: Blogging allows us to make contact with all sorts of worlds both horribly sad and relentlessly cheerful.
My friend Maryam is currently in Rwanda. I recommend her deeply moving recent posts. Not for those who prefer to keep their heads in the sand.
What Possessed Me, on the other hand, has a picture to make you smile.

In An English Country Garden/Ecological Day

Sonia of Leaves of Grass who blogs from Brasil hosts Ecological Day on the 2nd day of each month.
Go to her blog here to see other participants.


The church and thatched cottages are visible from the walled garden.



It is best if a walled garden has a gate to look through and is flanked by a fig tree.



A stone bench supported by stoic lions provides a suitable place to rest.



A wheelbarrow is necessary to transport the garnered goodies the garden provides.



Solar drying improves the smell of the clothes and looks tres charmant.



Even in late September the sedum and Michaelmas daisies provide color.



The path is made of stones set on their sides.

England

To me, England is about landscape. On the whole a very gentle one with mists and subtle interplay of light and shadow.
It is about trees and clouds and grass.



All these pictures were taken within a span of three days and all pretty much of the same place - looking out from the garden towards the cow field and beyond that to the fields where hay had been baled, and one field where maize was still growing.



The topiaried trees show a hint of French influence and remain architectural even in winter.



Mist forms in the hollows of the land and above streams and burns off during the day.



In the morning it's mysterious, shrouding the earth.

Season of Mists and Mellow Fruitfulness/England

Looking across the garden to the fields.


Flowers gathered for decorating the church for harvest festival.



A staddle stone that looks a bit like a stone mushroom.



A bountiful apple tree.

A 90th Birthday Party

This is narrated from the point of view of one of the little children there who are all my aunt's
great-grandchildren.



There was lots of food that we ate in a tent in the garden.
We had potatoes and shepherds pie. All ten of us great-grandchildren were there and all sorts of grownups who made speeches and clapped and said things like, "I haven't see you for thirty years and you look exactly the same........."



There were people from Canada and Spain and Scotland and America as well as people from England.
There were brownies and icecream and fruit salad for pudding.



The table decorations looked as if they came from a shop but one of our mothers made them. The green things are hops.
The metal confetti said "90" in different colors.



At teatime we carried a cake into the garden and our great grandmother blew out the candles.



Later on we just played.