What a difference a couple of weeks make.

We have been living in a whirl of activity over the past few weeks - most of which were spent in Melbourne.
During that time we were able to see our garden in flower.  This does not happen often as we are usually there in Winter when all is asleep.  This time however we were there and I was able to see one of my favourite roses in bloom: Papa Meilland:



We were also able to visit our other harpsichord, a single-manual, Flemish instrument that AGA built from a kit back in the mid 1980s.  Like some wines, it has improved with time and now has a wonderfully silvery, harpsichord voice - perfect for the music of François Couperin.  AGA and I had a lovely time re-aquainting ourselves with our old Flemish friend!
For those of you who are interested in clocks, the long-case beauty you can see next to the harpsichord is an English 30-hour silvered-dial antique, made by Samuel Holbin in around 1750.

We also took a few hours to motor up to the Dandenong ranges to see the rhododendrons and azaleas in flower.  Mount Dandenong is famous for these beautiful trees and shrubs, and people journey just to visit the famed Rhododendron Gardens.  We had not time to visit but we saw quite a few in flower in the various villages we passed through:

Despite the fact that it is mid Spring, the weather in Melbourne was somewhat cool and damp.  On a couple of days it was warmer in autumnal Germany!  On our last day however, it was a lovely mid 20s day and we were able to take breakfast on the terrace.  It was cool but pleasant and the sky was clear with not a hint of cloud:

I love days like that.  It is rare to have blue skies here in this part of Germany with its endemic air pollution.

* * * *

The purpose of our visit to Melbourne, was to be with AGA's father (ACA), who is gravely ill.  He is suffering from cancer in both his lungs and his spine.  It causes his a lot of pain, but he is a strong man - both physically and mentally - and I think that this is helping him despite the fact that he endures so much.

I admire him in his adversity. 

He is not letting his illness get him down and is living as normal a life as he can.  We were able to spend a lot of time with him and it was difficult to say goodbye, especially for AGA.  I do not think we will see ACA again, despite the fact that his doctor gives him a year at the most.
When we left, ACA said to me: "There's nothing I can do about this (the cancer).  My name is in the hat, and I'm just waiting for it to be pulled out."
And so he remains living at home, on his own, as is his wish (although AGA's siblings hover protectively on the sidelines) pottering about and trying to carry on as he has always done.
And he is sensible about his condition.  When he was unable to sleep because of the pain, he called the ambulance to take him to the hospital.  His medication was altered and he returned home.
I do hope that if I am in a similar position, that I too can be as philosophical about it all.

* * * *

We have been back here for just over one week now and the jetlag was horrible for a couple of days.

When we left Kaiserswerth it was green and pleasant with just a hint of autumn in the air.  

What a difference a couple of weeks makes!

We have returned to grey skies and Autumn in full swing.  The storms that took place before we got home contributed to blowing many leaves from the trees before they turned yellow.  Combined with the change in daylight saving we now leave for work in the dark, experience grey days, and return home in the dark.  I took this view from our sitting room window to show you what things are now like:

With Autumn ruling our lives we know that Christmas is not too far away.
They are forecasting snow for every day this coming week (but I don't believe it will happen), and the Christmas markets will soon be open for business.  This has spurred me into activity and so this weekend I have made the mincemeat for our Christmas pies:

It is an enjoyable task and scents the very air itself with a foretaste of Christmas soon to come!

(Meanwhile, in a dark subdued corner (and covered in a tea cloth) the bowl of fruit for the Christmas cake sits silently sousing in a brandy bath)

* * * *

One last thing.
When we returned home there was a package waiting for me.  Opening it carefully, I soon unwrapped this beauty:

It is a 19th century, Japanese cloisonné ware vase showing bullfinches flying amongst Chrysanthemums.  The sky is blue with fluffy white clouds and the flowers look as if they are waving gently in the autumn breezes.  It is beautiful and I am so glad I purchased it.  One of these days it will sit in pride of place on some table or other, but for the moment it stands quite sedately next to a clock, a lamp and a statue of St Florian.

Autumnal Splendours

Very gradually, Autumn is making his presence felt here in Kaiserswerth.

The acorns have grown and are slowly being consumed by the squirrels and jays.  Leaves are starting to turn yellow and there are pumpkins for sale all over the place!  Yesterday I saw white pumpkins for sale at our local florist which means that the Tone on Tone style has reached even this part of the world!
The swallows have packed up and left; and the geese are starting to fly south.

These are all signs that Autumn is approaching,
but for me,
nothing heralds Autumn's arrival more than the appearance of the beloved chrysanthemum.
My grandfathers and my father grew these lovely flowers.  They were such a part of my life that to me they were somewhat commonplace and hardly worth thinking about!

But then I met the wonderful Henri Fantin-Latour:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Henri_Fantin-Latour_autoportrait.jpg

Ignace Henri Jean Théodore Fantin-Latour (know as Henri) was a consummate painter of flowers in domestic settings.
His images of the chrysanthemum took me by surprise.  He made them look ethereal and gave them a beauty that I had previously not noticed.  Just look at this:

http://www.wikipaintings.org/en/henri-fantin-latour/chrysanthemums-1879

Isn't it beautiful?
Henri completely changed my point of view, and I went from passing by chrysanthemums without so much as how-do-you-do, to gazing at them with the light of love in my eye.

The tones and texture of the flowers, in their various hues, seem to me to embody all that Autumn is.

The Chinese philosopher known in English as Confucius, apparently liked chrysanthemums and wrote about them around the year 500BC.

In Japan the chrysanthemum was a highly valued plant: The Emperors took it as their personal emblem and as early as the 9th Century garden parties were held to celebrate the flowering of the chrysanthemum (known as the kiku) and following Chinese tradition, it was named as one of the Sikunshi, or four floral gentlemen, (representatives of the four Seasons). chrysanthemum season was of course Autumn.

Here is the Imperial Seal of Japan.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Imperial_Seal_of_Japan.svg

In Australia, the chrysanthemum has come to symbolize Mother's Day which in that country occurs in Autumn.  A friend of mine told me that for many Italians the flower represents death and they won't have it in the house.

(This is interesting because in my family that role was held by the lilac.  As a child I once picked a lilac to take to my Grandmother but was swiftly propelled outside again, and the symbolism explained to me, before GG (as my grandmother was known) caught sight of my 'gift'.  Even today I could not have lilac inside the house although I enjoy its scent.)

I don't know when the chrysanthemum began to migrate outside of its ancestral homelands. I looked in various books but could not find the answer.  Apparently it was named chrysanthemum (Golden Flower) in the sixteenth century so I guess it was in Europe, or at least known to Europeans, by that stage.

http://www.wikipaintings.org/en/henri-fantin-latour/large-bouquet-of-chrysanthemums-1882

Melbourne (my adopted city) was founded in 1835.  Twenty years later and advice was being given in the local newspaper on how to grow chrysanthemums.  A true immigrant flower, it is now a citizen of the world, to be found in just about every part of the globe.  These days when you open a plant catalogue you will find them for sale and they are so common that no one in the western world seems to give them much notice.  They are almost as the grass beneath our feet.  We buy then in small pots and when they have finished flowering we discard them, or put them somewhere (such as behind the potting shed) where they die from lack of care and attention.  A nice thank you for the pleasure they have given us!

Daisy-like, or a cluster of petals.  Pom poms, doubles, singles.  chrysanthemums come in a variety of shapes and sizes.  I read in my edition of 'The Flowers and Gardens of Japan' by Florence Du Cane, that the Japanese had at least 150 different types, all with appropriately poetic names:

Nihon Ichi (First in Japan)

Natsu-gumo (Summer Clouds)

Haruna Kasumi (Spring Haze)

Tsuki-no-tomo (Companions of the Moon)

Ake-no-sora (Sky at Dawn)

Asa hi no nami (Waves in the Morning Sun)

http://www.wikipaintings.org/en/search/Henri%20Fantin-Latour

Here in our bijou residence, we have a 1788 edition of 'Every Man His Own Gardener'.   The original owner of the book, who often pencilled in notes and crosses to denote favourite flowers, left the chrysanthemums unmarked: I felt offended!  Why did he like the 'Tangier Pea', the 'Rose Lupin' and the 'Double Sunflower', but not the chrysanthemum?

It might have been because the plant was very hard to grow.  Japan (where the Imperial gardeners were having great success) was still a closed country, and no one in Europe had been able to produce a fertile seed.

I checked to see what the author (John Abercrombie) had to say and I was somewhat disappointed. He tells us all about growing them and looking after them but the varieties to be had are few and somewhat boorishly named:

Double Yellow

Double White

Double Quilled

Nathaniel Paterson waxes lyrical about the carnation but makes no mention of 'our' flower.

Things began to change for the chrysanthemum in the mid 19th Century.  Those Imperial Gardeners' closely guarded secrets became more widely known and soon everyone was growing them.  In 1846 the National Chrysanthemum Society was founded in England and its popularity grew until Henri Fantin-Latour, seeing their beauty and elegance began to paint them:

http://www.wikipaintings.org/en/henri-fantin-latour/flowers-chrysanthemums-1876#supersized-artistPaintings-209025

So there you are: the chrysanthemum.  A special flower for this special time of year.

And now, in the tradition of Japanese chrysanthemum viewing, here are some photographs of the chrysanthemums that we are growing on our balcony this Autumn:

Simple, daisy-like blooms:

An interesting petal shape:

One of my favourites:

Chrysanthemum: the golden flower.  How could one not love such golden perfection:

White petals:

Some of our chrysanthemums, en masse, with some friendly roses and a little heather plant:

I hope you enjoyed this post!

Obbly, obbly onker, my first conker!

I have been trying to type a new post for my blog but my brain is rather sluggish. 

I have a cold. 

Or maybe it is an allergy.

However things cheered up considerably when we went for a walk this morning, because I picked up my first conker of the season.  For me this means that Autumn is well and truly on the way. 

This photograph of our village horse chestnut trees was taken today by Kirk Dale

When I was a child we would make a hole through the biggest ones and thread them with string.  Then we would play 'conkers’, trying to smash our opponent’s conker so that our one could become a champion. 

There was a rhyme to sing when playing conkers: 

Obbly obbly onker, my first conker, 

Ack ack ack my first crack."

When my family moved to Melbourne there were very few conker trees and so I only ever got them when I was back in England and staying with my uncle and aunt.  They had two huge old conker trees at the bottom of the garden.  My aunt would collect lots of them in buckets and when neighbouring children came she would allow them to reach in a take a huge handful: a conker lucky dip.  I of course being a favoured nephew,  was always presented with the biggest one when I arrived – even as an adult!

This photograph of today's small conker haul was taken by Kirk Dale.

Now we are living in Europe and conkers are plentiful at this time of year.  Technically they are horse chestnuts but to me they are conkers.  Shiny, dark brown ones are the best.   Now that I am approaching fifty I do not grab a bucket and rush out madly looking for the biggest and the best ones and hording them all for myself.  Instead, I walk sedately and look as if I do not care about them, but once I spy a nice big, dark brown, shiny one with clear champion tendencies, I cannot help myself: I have to pick it up.  I must pick it up!

I hold it in my hand and feel its glossy smoothness.   Then I slip it into my pocket, occasionally putting my hand inside to make sure it is still there. 

This photograph of the my first conker was taken by Kirk Dale

When we get back home I put it in pride of place on my bedside table.  As the season progresses the conker is joined by various others that I find.  Some may be bigger or browner or glossier but my first conker will retain its place as ‘premier’ conker in the collection – and when winter comes and  there are no more conkers to be had, it will go and join the various others that sit dotted around the house until they shrivel up and are then tossed into the old dike, there among the bushes and grass to gradually return to the earth that produced them.

Another good thing about the arrival of Autumn is the fact that we eat ‘marzipan hornchen’.  This is a croissant with marzipan inside.  It is extremely addictive!  The local baker makes them and they are very nice with a cup of tea or coffee on a cool day.

This photograph of a Marzipan Hornchen was taken by Kirk Dale.

I hope that you, dear reader, have had a pleasant weekend!