Thursday was quite a day. For me, anyway. After a delightful swim with* an aesthetically pleasing young man - and the last fifteen minutes with a lane to myself which meant I could lark about underwater - amongst other things, I paid a quick visit (along with The Mother) to Felbrigg Hall walled garden. Whilst there I experienced something I'd almost forgotten existed. More on that in a bit - first, let's look at some photos of the garden.
: : :
Oh! Before I forget, here's Sophie Ellis-Bextor's latest, "Hypnotized"
One of the hot and dry Mediterranean-esque borders
Traditional cottage garden plants are increasingly being outgrown by more exotic types
This is about as 'cottage garden' as it gets
Inside one of the two glasshouses
Inside the other one
Bottlebrush (Callistemon citrinus)
Smoke bush (Cotinus coggygria)
Passionflower vine doing its best to take over
Passionflowers (Passiflora caerulea) are one of my favourites
At the centre of the walled garden is this circular pool...
... with a good view of the 18th century dovecote, along with the cause of my aforementioned frisson of excitement (and I don't mean the lumpen oaf in the white trainers)
No, the frisson was purely down to the man in blue. We'd caught each other's eye not long after entering the walled garden which immediately produced a fizzy, tingle of connection that I hadn't experienced in years. Rather than slink off into the passionflowers (as I was with The Mother and he was with his Father - or it could have been his Daddy?), we just exchanged coy smiles and went our separate ways.
Or so I thought...
As The Mother and I were heading out, we stopped by these Alliums so I could rescue a bee on the path from getting squashed, and who should appear? Yes! And he seemed most concerned that I might get stung. At least, I think he did? English clearly wasn't his first language - he sounded Eastern European, or maybe Nordic?
Anyway, fortunately for their hips, The Mother and his Daddy didn't find themselves pushed into the borders so that we could exchange a passionate embrace/bodily fluids. Instead, they wandered off and we headed towards the exit, but not before one last knowing and charged glance.
To celebrate that fact that I hadn't totally completed my transformation into an ice-hearted robot, and that I still had feelings somewhere deep inside, the doves took to the skies (it certainly wasn't because of the appearence of a buzzard)
Coo!
Goodbye gardens.
: : :
Just in case it's raining in Devon (I don't think it's forecast to, but one can never be sure with English weather), here are a couple of tunes for Ms Scarlet:
Neil Sedaka isn't my usual cup of tea, but "Laughter in the Rain" is
Ah I thought you sounded happy at the beginning. I imagined you'd been applying parts of yourself to the bubbling outlet thingy under the water. I'd start planting cacti personally.
It may not surprise you that my ex, SP, gave me a cactus the Christmas after we split up (10 years ago). It's still alive and doing quite well on my bedroom windowsill...
Awww... thank you for Neil Sedaka!!! Thankfully the sun is shining here. I am going to have to make you some calling cards so that you can decorously drop them at the feet of eligible young men. I can't believe this romance is over before it really began! Sx
Oh, I wish I'd had a calling card on Thursday! If the next frisson follows the same time span, then you'll have plenty of time to make me some as I won't be needing one for another 12 or 13 years...
Yes, I agree Ms Scarlet. Make him one!!! Nothing like slipping a calling card into the pant pocket of a possible man "friend" whilst taking a quick grab and assessment of the inventory below.
"so that we could exchange a passionate embrace/bodily fluids."
So, I see you did get and read my autobiography?
Those gardens are gorgeous!!!!!!! I would love to have some passion flowers, they are stunning. We have smoke bush here in the garden and it is going insane. I even cut it way back in the fall, but you'd never know.
This reads like an eighteenth century novel with our hero snatching coy glances at the object of his affection from behind his folding fan. Pray tell, did you swoon?
And here is my description of it (from 2015's Coven Awards) in case you are having second thoughts: "Never taking itself seriously, Austenland is an hilarious romcom/faux-period drama masterpiece full of taxidermied birds, painful hair-dos, engineered romance, stuck-up hostesses, ghastly fake-tanned servants, a male lead who manages to out-Darcy Mr Darcy (who doesn't appear in this film except in cardboard cut-out form), impressive abs and pecs, inappropriate Nelly songs, hopeless English accents, Jennifer Coolidge, bizarre tannoy announcements, large arses (oops! I mean largesse), live foal births, surprise ninjas, more quote-able lines than one can shake a stick at ("Shut up, Fartright!"), Jane Seymour, rubbish theatrical productions, Kiwi actors who weren't in The Hobbit, make-overs, more Jennifer Coolidge, trouser bulges, pool parties, "Bloody Amerwicans!", and an example of locomotion right out of the Ministry of Silly Walks."
Mmm, I get a sense of some fey from him. You might have lost your clothes and your name, darling! Still flirting and coy glances in a garden, I'm sincerely happy for you! That looks like a nice garden for drinking iced alcoholic beverages.
Ah I thought you sounded happy at the beginning. I imagined you'd been applying parts of yourself to the bubbling outlet thingy under the water.
ReplyDeleteI'd start planting cacti personally.
It may not surprise you that my ex, SP, gave me a cactus the Christmas after we split up (10 years ago). It's still alive and doing quite well on my bedroom windowsill...
DeleteOh hon, you know I can psychically sense it and know why you keep it! 🫢
DeleteAwww... thank you for Neil Sedaka!!! Thankfully the sun is shining here.
ReplyDeleteI am going to have to make you some calling cards so that you can decorously drop them at the feet of eligible young men. I can't believe this romance is over before it really began!
Sx
Oh, I wish I'd had a calling card on Thursday! If the next frisson follows the same time span, then you'll have plenty of time to make me some as I won't be needing one for another 12 or 13 years...
DeleteYes, I agree Ms Scarlet. Make him one!!! Nothing like slipping a calling card into the pant pocket of a possible man "friend" whilst taking a quick grab and assessment of the inventory below.
DeleteHe looked like he had quite a lot to assess!
DeleteGood heavens! And there's me thinking I was the only one who's had a sexual encounter in a herbaceous border...
ReplyDeleteJx
PS The garden looks lovely. Think of all that exotic seed you could have collected!
"a sexual encounter in a herbaceous border" you say? I can feel a Garden Photos Event theme coming on!
DeleteP.S. I shall be returning to the walled garden in the autumn with a suitable receptacle to do just that!
"so that we could exchange a passionate embrace/bodily fluids."
ReplyDeleteSo, I see you did get and read my autobiography?
Those gardens are gorgeous!!!!!!! I would love to have some passion flowers, they are stunning. We have smoke bush here in the garden and it is going insane. I even cut it way back in the fall, but you'd never know.
But of course I've read your autobiography, Maddie! It's required reading, especially as all the helpful tips prevent many faux pas.
DeletePassion flowers can be vigorous and invasive, but they are gorgeous!
This reads like an eighteenth century novel with our hero snatching coy glances at the object of his affection from behind his folding fan. Pray tell, did you swoon?
ReplyDeleteOh, the promising susurration ...
DeleteThere may have been a modicum of swoonage. But I put that down to the heat and the tightness of my corset...
DeleteI agree! And this is why I was drawn to the word ‘decorously’!
ReplyDeleteSx
It is all very polite and restrained, Ms Scarlet. There'll be no funny business going on here.
DeleteMores the pity...
Is this a "mannekin piss" in the central circular pool, or just another eros ?
ReplyDeleteWhatever it is, I am glad to learn that you are alive, and well perceived. Maybe Thor's hammer is hidden somewhere in those fluffy gardens ?
Fortunately, the statuary was not lowering the tone by micturating willy-nilly.
DeleteThor's hammer is in the garden somewhere?!? I must make a return visit! And call ahead first to ensure the fainting chaise is available.
I'm coming over all Jane Austen-y
ReplyDeleteOoh! Then let's take a trip to Austenland!!
DeleteAnd here is my description of it (from 2015's Coven Awards) in case you are having second thoughts:
"Never taking itself seriously, Austenland is an hilarious romcom/faux-period drama masterpiece full of taxidermied birds, painful hair-dos, engineered romance, stuck-up hostesses, ghastly fake-tanned servants, a male lead who manages to out-Darcy Mr Darcy (who doesn't appear in this film except in cardboard cut-out form), impressive abs and pecs, inappropriate Nelly songs, hopeless English accents, Jennifer Coolidge, bizarre tannoy announcements, large arses (oops! I mean largesse), live foal births, surprise ninjas, more quote-able lines than one can shake a stick at ("Shut up, Fartright!"), Jane Seymour, rubbish theatrical productions, Kiwi actors who weren't in The Hobbit, make-overs, more Jennifer Coolidge, trouser bulges, pool parties, "Bloody Amerwicans!", and an example of locomotion right out of the Ministry of Silly Walks."
Excellent post and beautiful pictures. And yes, go the whole way next time, we need more dirty details.
ReplyDeleteHopefully the next time a connection is made I won't be with The Mother (and the Other End won't be with his Daddy), so an exchange may be made.
DeleteAlthough, it's been quite a while, so I might need to do some research/get some practice in first....
P.S. I've been meaning to ask for a while: Is your avatar a photo of you?
Delete"It's i"been quite a while" - its just like riding a bike, dear. You never forget how to do it. Jx
DeleteI hope that's the case as I have no idea who I'd practice on?
DeleteMmm, I get a sense of some fey from him. You might have lost your clothes and your name, darling! Still flirting and coy glances in a garden, I'm sincerely happy for you! That looks like a nice garden for drinking iced alcoholic beverages.
ReplyDeleteI wouldn't have minded losing my name, but I draw the line at my clothes - I wouldn't have wanted to repulse him!
Delete