Waiting for the word.

Our container should have arrived this week in Melbourne.  We were told the ship would dock last Thursday but we haven’t heard anything yet.  

We are hopeful.  

Mind you, it will be at least another two weeks before we get our hands on our stuff because quarantine officers will be giving them the once over.  Australia is very strict when it comes to importing anything into the country by private individuals and so all of our beautiful things will sit around somewhere waiting to be checked; and it isn’t cheap either.  $750 up front just for the normal processing.  I hope they don’t kick up a fuss about our thirty-five clocks, or the mirror collection, paintings, books, teapots . . .

Of course, there is nothing that can be done to expedite matters and so one is forced to sit tight and wait to be contacted.

And so while we are waiting, why not grab your sun hat and come with me for a walk around our garden.

I purchased this house in partnership with my mother (Mme. O) a little while after my father died. We did not want a big garden as we both had busy lives but we did want somewhere to grow roses and a place to create a terrace for outdoor dining and general lounging about.

That was then but all these years later I find that thanks to AGA I have grown to love gardening and this is one of the reasons that AGA and I will be buying land upon which to build a new house and a new much bigger garden.

But anyway . . .

The roses are looking lovely:

When we moved to this house I planted the roses along the driveway and up to the front door.  The recent rather hot summer days have burnt some of the petals but all in all it has been rather a good year:

This rose, which we believe is 'Queen Elizabeth' was presented to my parents by a neighbour when we first arrived in Australia.  Do you think that this is the correct name? On moving house I made sure that part of it went with us:

I do like French marigolds.    We have a lot of them at present.  They always put on a good show.

Now this is a pineapple lily.  I have to say that I don't like it.  AGA on the other hands, loves it.  I have promised faithfully not to kill it as I did (accidentally) his Mother-in-law tongue plant while we were in Germany . . .

Foxgloves are always so lovely.  This was a self seeded one that popped up one day.  My grandmother used to say that it was wrong to bring foxglove into the house because it would make the fairies angry and the milk would always curdle.  In the corner of this photo you will be able to spot some 'Johnny Jump up' violas.

A cherub who in the dim and distant past suffered a French revolutionary accident, having his head accidentally knocked off.  Luckily it was able to be reattached.

The Meyer lemon is enjoying itself in a large terracotta pot and I must say that the perfume from the flowers is heady to say the least!  Given that lemons are sold for $1 each in the supermarket I can't wait for own ones to get a move on and grow:

This rhubarb was termed 'French' when I purchased it at the local Farmers' market the other week. My father grew champagne rhubarb and as a child I hated it!  As an adult my tastes have changed and I like it a lot.   I do not know why this is called French Rhubarb.  Perhaps they put the word 'French' on it to attract people like me!  At the moment it remains in the pot while it acclimatises to the garden.  I went to a website called Rhubarb Central to see what varieties there are but the term French Rhubarb was not to be found.  Perhaps it is an old name...  When my old gardening books arrive I shall look it up and see.  That wilted leaf stalk has been removed.

This is a stone pine.  It is only a baby at the moment but it is part of the group of plants destined for the acreage we intend to purchase.  It is a plant that reminds me of the South of France and Italy.

We are able to grow bougainvillea in Victoria although it is not as prolific as it could be.  I do enjoy this plant.  I have seen them grown as hedges.

The garden in full swing:

The man-next-door gave my mother (Mme. O) this dahlia.  Under the care of AGA it has blossomed and looks lovely!

The bijou herb garden is coming along nicely.  Basil, Mint, Apple Mint, Tarragon, Chives, Rosemary, Flat-leafed parsley, Curly leaf parsley, Mme. O's tomato plant; all presided over by Apollo, basking in the sun.

I hope you have enjoyed having a poke around our garden!

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!

May Day . . . May Day!

The Spring clad all in gladness,

Doth laugh at Winter's sadness

Today is May Day, the beginning of the month of Maying; and in keeping with the most recent post of Rosemary over at Where Five Valleys Meet, I decided to go a Maying myself - 21st Century style - armed with my digital camera. 

I am in search of May blossom to bring back to the apartment, to decorate and perfume the kitchen. 

Why not come with me, and keep me company on this Maying Day!

Stepping outside the front door you can see what a difference two weeks and some sun has done: 

I am setting out early.  It is a public holiday today so I decided that 9ish is a good time.  No one is out and we can take our time...

I see that the grass has become very lush:

Turning left I walked around the avenue and then took a photograph looking back along the old river bed:

The bramble bushes look a little tired and raggedy but the rest is nicely decked out in Spring greenery.
A bit further on and I can see that some blossom is out:

Keeping a steady pace, I go around the corner:

And down below is blossom a-plenty (but is it May blossom?)


Alas no.
There is Cherry Laurel:

Apple Blossom:

And Pear Blossom:

But no May blossom.
Never mind though, isn't it a lovely sight to see on this nice Spring morning. It makes the heart glad and lifts the spirits that have been dampened well down by the long grey winter:

Not all the blossom is white and pink however:

Continuing to walk along the old river bed, I come to the old bridge:

When Kaiserswerth was an island it was connected to the mainland by this bridge.  Nowadays the River has changed course and the old bridge is landlocked and the victim of indiscriminate graffiti.  Sometimes our one homeless man sleeps under it (when the weather is warm).  He has a caste over one eye and is often happily sozzled.  He always has time for a cheery 'hallo' in passing.  He is not here this morning.  He could well be ensconced, still fast asleep up near the old castle.

Turning right I walk up the pathway to the street and on to the bridge itself.
Kaiserswerth is deserted as many of the good burgers of our village are still having their breakfast, or like AGA are reclining in bed.  That building on the right is the one tall building in the village.  It was built by the National Socialist Government as a 'bunker' prior to WWII.  I always thought that bunkers were underground however I am assured that this is a bunker.  It is now rather 'fancy' apartments:


We are proud of our bridge.  This is the old marker that sits on the landward side:


On the opposite side to the double headed eagle is the stone that commemorates the fact that Klemens Augustus of Bavaria, as a patron of Kaiserswerth, renovated the bridge:

Klemens was the Archbishop of Koeln (Cologne) and a powerful man in politics because back when he was archbishop, he was also an elector of the Holy Roman Empire.  Here he is in his garb as Grand Masters of the Teutonic Knights:

Thanks Wikipedia

Looking over the other side of the bridge, I see that the May Pole is up and ready for action:

Or rather it would be except that this year there is some building works going on and while the May Pole is up, there will be no dancing around it as it is behind some construction fencing:

 I don't know for certain what they are doing.  I 'think' that they are shoring up the bank near the old museum:

Luckily there is still room for the Bitburger beer waggon to be set up:

(They have been storing this in the fire station carpark, near to our apartment. I saw it last night)
However I am not concerned with beer this morning, but with continuing on my May walk and so I turn back to look down the path I had walked along earlier:

 It is so good to see everything looking green and verdant.
Everything is either in bloom, or nearly so.
The often inconspicuous blossom of the trees:

Back down on the pathway again, I see all sorts of flowers:

I walk back to the pear trees and walking through some bushes, entered the large park:

 A bit further on and we come to the site of the old garden allotments:

Up until about three years ago this area was filled with flourishing garden allotments.  The Town Council however ended the leases, evicted the tenants, pulled up the garden beds and little summer houses, and turned the area in to a park.  For people like me it is lovely.  People can walk their dogs, play with the children, have picnics etc but I wonder what the people who had the allotments think...

I was a little too late to see the magnolia blossoms however there were still a few left on the branches:

Here is a view across the park.  One allotment remains.  You can see the potting shed.  I wonder why that particular one remains.  Some ancient law called into play?  Perhaps it is the burgermeister's father's allotment!

Continuing with my Maying I come across AGA's nemesis: Birch blossom (catkins):

This is what has been giving him hay fever/allergies for the past two weeks.  Once it has dissipated them his asthmatic cough symptoms disappear:

The ground is liberally sprinkled with dandelions:

We tend to ignore the dandelion but what a glorious flower it produces:

 After which will come the wish-making 'clocks'...

 More apple blossom:

More flowers starring the ground beneath my feet:

I see that the dreaded stinging-nettle is flourishing!

But still no May blossom...

Looking back across the old river bed I can see our apartment building through the trees.  The middle two windows are our apartment:

Periwinkle:  I always liked this flower:

Willow trees in 'bloom':

 Apart from the natural glories of this First Day of May, I obtained another more secular reward. A 20 euro note laying abandoned in the grass.  I give it a new home in my pocket!:

I wander over to take a look through the fence of the remaining allotment.  I see they have some nice tulips flowering:

It feels as though we are out on the country but a short walk away is the main road into Dusseldorf:

One of my favourite flowers is the Forget-me-not:

Who can remain impervious to the enchantment of those pale blue flowers with their golden centres?

May is also the month in the (Roman) Catholic Calendar that is specially dedicated to Our Lady, while the First of May is the feast day of St Joseph the Worker.  This flower always reminds me of them and their lives of sacrifice.

Continuing on my walk I come out onto the pastures that are part of the old river bed.  That house up there is at the end of our avenue.

I would like to live in that house! It has a lovely circular driveway and an automatic wrought iron gate decorated with oak leaves. It marks the spot of one of the old town wall towers when Kaiserswerth was fortified.  It is interesting to think that once upon a time Spanish boats were sailing around here, bombing the place!

These days it is horses rather than boats,  They wander through a sea of grass.  I like the look of this horse:

 This one looks like a race horse:

More flowers.
A primrose:

A white bluebell:

A long birdbox up in one of the trees.  I have no idea what bird would want to go in there.  It is very long but with a small hole for the entrance:

Speaking of birds, the air is filled with their song.  I see lots of Blackbirds, Robins and Wood pigeons.  Ravens fly about.  Our neighbourhood Buzzards make an appearance to a general raucous carry-on as magpies and ravens fly up to mob them.  And there are parrots:

Thank you Wikipedia

Rose-ringed parakeets.  I didn't take this photograph as these birds are too fast for this very amateur photographer.  They live all around here in Kaiserswerth and my RSPB Book of Birds calls them Ring Necked Parakeets and states they  live all over the place, from England to Istanbul.  IT describes their sound as being loud squealing, squawking calls: a very apt description.

Slowly I wend my way back home and soon I am at our front door once more.  I have been out for nearly one hour (!) but I have not found the object of my Maying. . .

The plant itself is easy enough to find as one of them is on the slopes, right near our building:

It is of course the Hawthorn.  The plant that provides the 'May', the flower, so evocative of this month.  But after a long long winter the Hawthorn is still biding its time.  Its flowers are still jealously kept from sight.

Something however tells me that it won't be too long now before all is revealed.  I shall be sure to share it with you when they appear.
I hope you enjoyed taking this May Day morning walk with me!