Bucolic pleasantries

I mentioned in my last post that we recently bought an acre of land in the country, so I feel that I should introduce it to you!

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Towards the end of last year we were thinking of moving to the island of Tasmania.

Tasmania

We spent a couple of wonderful holidays in Tasmania.  We motored around the island, checking out the lay of the land, considering our options, and deciding upon possibilities.  It is a lovely part of the world and Mr. A. has close links to it as some of his ancestors went there as free settlers in the 1810s, but when we considered all the angles we realised that, alas, it would not be feasible to move to Tasmania at our time of life.  There is not a lot of work to be had, especially in our chosen fields, and it would be difficult for our family and friends to come visiting.  Reluctantly, we shelved the idea.

We then decided to look in our own back garden: the fabulous state of Victoria.  What a wonderful part of the world it is.  We checked the real estate web sites and discussed the possibilities of the various regions, eventually deciding that we wanted somewhere that had a high elevation, high rainfall, the sorts of things that we like (good food, nice countryside, civilised activities etc).  After visiting a couple of properties we decided that rather than buy an old house and renovate it, we would buy land and build our own. 

It was then that we came across the perfect piece of land upon which to establish our ‘estate’.  Mr. A. put in an offer to the owner on the very same day, and that is why we are now the proud owners of a block of land in the Daylesford-Macedon region. 

Here it is:



The above photo shows the line of Spanish Chestnut trees.  The tree closest to the camera is a walnut tree.
On the other side of the Chestnut trees there is a long meadow:

 And at the end of the meadow one walks into a small forest of Chestnut trees.

The trees are somewhat spindly, but we like them.  They will need some care and attention.  We have big plans for this little copse.

Within the copse is a well:

As you can see it is somewhat primitive, being nothing more than a hole in the ground with a pump attached, but we have had plans drawn up to have it beautified with a proper well head.  Mr. McGregor (the builder) is in charge of that and we shall see what we shall see...
I rigged up a bucket and rope system for drawing up the water, which after testing is deliciously drinkable!   This is good because there is no running water to the property (and no gas either)  At least there is an electricity supply!!

The land itself is part of an old dairy farm which was subdivided some time ago.  Apart form the well, our block contains an old, ramshackle cow shed which is used to store fire wood, and a rather characterful hut that has 'possibilities':

Mr McGregor's wife informed me that the hut was used in the 1940s as a potato pickers hut.  I like that.  The cowshed (which is on the right in this photo) will have to go, but the hut is going to become our very own dacha of sorts.
Those are hazelnut bushes surrounding the buildings and the old water tank,.  So what with chestnuts, and walnut trees, we should be quite okay for nuts!!!  

I hope that you enjoyed this rather rushed trip around our new purchase.  Last week was Easter and social commitments here and there made it difficult to find the time to visit my blog, but here is a simnel cake that I made to celebrate that special time.  
Do help yourself and while you are at it you can look at this website which show what the Daylesford Macedon region has to offer!

http://www.visitmelbourne.com/Regions/Daylesford-and-the-Macedon-Ranges

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!

Strange happenings in the Long Gallery

Last February, whilst on holiday in London, we decided to pop down to Richmond and visit Ham House:

The front:


The very handsome rear view:

As with most old country houses, Ham House has a very interesting history.

Having been built at the beginning of the early seventeenth century (about 1610), the house was leased by King Charles I to his good friend, William Murray.

I should point out here that William Murray had been Charles' whipping boy when CHarles was a young prince.  In the 15th and 16th Century, only the King was allowed to punish or whip his sons because they had the potential to become kings themselves, and in the Stuart era, when the Divine Right of Kings was rampant, no one would dare to strike a king (or a king-in-waiting) and yet sometimes, even princes needed punishment.  This is where the whipping boy came in - taking the punishment meant for the prince.  Luckily, it would appear that Charles was a relatively well-behaved child and so William Murray rarely suffered punishment.

Of course there were benefits to being the whipping boy.  Living with the prince's household, sharing his schooling and, as in the case of William and Charles, forming a close friendship: A very profitable situation to be in!

When they were grown up and Charles was King, William not only received Ham House but an earldom as well...

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These days Ham House is run by the National Trust and is closed for much of the Winter.  On the day we attended, they had opened a few rooms as a preliminary to 'The Season'.  As these times, entry is only permissible for those who choose to go on a guided tour.  We were okay with that and duly joined the group waiting at the front door.

The 'thing' about Ham House is that it is said to be haunted.  The star among the ghosts is Elizabeth, daughter of William, and Duchess of Lauderdale.  

Here she is with her second husband, John Maitland, Duke of Lauderdale:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:John_Maitland,_1st_duke_of_Lauderdale,_and_his_wife_Elizabeth_Murry,_Duchess_of_Lauderdale_(3977704407).jpg

Surviving both of her husbands, Elizabeth stayed on at Ham House, and died there.  Her ghost is said to often be heard and sometimes seen on the stairs . . .

. . . and in various other parts of the house as well.  Her dog is said to do the rounds with her; and the Duke of Lauderdale haunts one of the main rooms, so it is very much a family affair!

Anyway…

We went in through the front door with the others on the tour:

We walked through the various rooms and looked at the treasures they contained:

Soon we were up in the Long Gallery, where various wonderful paintings are to be seen:

One in particular is this:

'Self Portrait with Sunflower' by Antony van Dyk - I do like this painting.

Then AGA saw this portrait of the Duchess of Lauderdale and asked me to take a photo because given the subject matter, he intended to use it as in example of slavery, in a unit of inquiry he was teaching.  For some reason I felt a little uneasy as I took the photo:

Everyone else left the room, including AGA but I (and another chap) lingered to take a few more photos while the guide stood at the doorway.  I particularly wanted to take this one of King Charles I.

The portrait faces that of the Duchess, and as I took the photo, I had the strangest feeling come over me.

It is hard to explain accurately but I felt as if I had been passed through by something. My energy was completely drained and I thought I was going to pass out.  I remember closing my eyes and saying silently to myself: 'pull yourself together!'  

The sensation was brief and I soon felt absolutely fine.  The others seemed unaware that anything had happened and so I left with them, went back through the gallery with AGA and the rest, then down the stairs.  our tour concluded soon afterwards.

When we were well out of earshot of anyone else I told AGA what had happened.  He is a very no-nonsense, scientific sort of chap.  He told me in all seriousness that he had had exactly the same feeling on the stairs as we were leaving:

When I checked the guide book it said that the gallery and the stairs were supposedly the most haunted parts of the house. . .

So there you have it.
Perhaps the Duchess was saying 'hello'.
Then again, perhaps she heard the somewhat uncharitable remarks we had made about her possible personality while viewing her portrait and decided to give us a fright . . .
Whatever it was, it was certainly most unusual and in time to come when we are very old, we will entertain the younger generations with talks of our visit to one of the most haunted houses in England.

By the way, even in winter, the gardens of Ham look nice:

And I think that this might appeal to David Cowell over at the Willowbrook Park blog:

I hope you enjoyed this post!