The new madness

This year, for the first time in many years, I decided to start some things from seed. A long time ago, I bought a seed-starting setup from Genine Lentine (was that her name?) when she had the garden shop downtown. It's in the basement, where it has something of the look of an unused piece of exercise equipment.

 

The seed-starting system should still work, if I can figure it out again. I should be home most of the next few months, so I can water and nurture the little babies.

 

 

Here's the collection of seeds. Mostly flowers, a few herbs...shouldn't be too hard, right?? I did manage not to buy seeds of English primroses once I went online and discovered how tricky they are to grow. These should all be easy peasy. Ha!

The cardinal climber vine is meant to twine around the S&H trellis, which I aim to put up in April. I also have designs on the sunny side of the front lawn for more garden beds, where these sum-lovers will find a home. Hmmm.

Signs of spring

Even while the snow was falling, the birds were singing madly. They were certainly ready for spring, as was the maple tree. Here are the red buds showing through the snowfall.

 

Two weeks after the last storm, the snow is gradually melting. Yesterday was the first day the ground reappeared. And what should be growing, but snowdrops! I even found some aconite leaves. Here is the evidence: aconite, hellebore unfurling, first crocus of 2010:

 

 

 

You might need to click on the photos to see what I'm talking about. Hope!

The Poor Man's Mulch

Boy, did we get a lot of it! After four snowstorms, I've lost track of just how much snow fell in Ferry Farm, but it was at least a couple feet. The last time we had anything like this was 1996. Climate change is spooky... Here are a couple images.

 

 

 

The snow allows evergreens to show at their best. Most of the time, my eyes seem to glide right past them. But the snow reveals their structure in the most beautiful ways. Here are two pictures of the snow-bedecked cedar in the back yard.

 

 

London Favorites

The books I bought

 

Sunday lunch in front of the fire

 

Indian food at Masala Zone

 

Strolling through St. James's Park

 

Poppies everywhere

 

Seeing the royals zooming back to Buckingham Palace (too fast for a picture)

Stone curls on the Assyrian man-bull

 

Extinct species decorating one side of the Museum of Natural History (living species on the other)

 

Every trip has to have a little drama...

...and this was no exception. Though all the logistics worked smoothly, we had a few panicked moments. Like trying to find a cab to take us to Paddington and thence the airport, and walking up and down the streets for far too long, until a nice cabbie took pity on us and made a U-turn to pick us up. Or the time Alison feared her wallet had disappeared at the Cabinet War Rooms, only to discover, after we had rushed back, that her string purse had merely worked its way around to her back. Or going through security at the end, where two of Alison's dangerous presents were confiscated, and in the confusion I left behind my silver bracelet and Skye necklace. Run, Lola, Run back to security, where they calmly handed them over. But all's well that ends well.

Two more museums

This morning we visited the British Museum and took a tour focusing on Roman gods and goddesses, primarily in early Britain. A humorless but informative guide chose just a few objects that illustrated her point about the slow melding of pagan, Roman and eventually Christian beliefs over the centuries.

This is the Corbeidge lanx (=tray), a fine example of Roman religious beliefs found in a field by a nine-year-old girl.
Afterwards I paid a ritual visit to the ram in the thicket

("The story of Mesopotamia is the story of mud," a long-ago guide trilled as she led us through this gallery), the Alexander room, which had been closed last time I visited, and my favorite Assyrian, this winged human-headed bull:

 

I was thrilled to see they were exhibiting a few artifacts from the recently uncovered Staffordshire Hoard.

 

The objects were still mud-covered, making it seem that they had just that day been deposited in the museum. It's unknown who will get them in the end - after the hoard is valued, museums will vie to purchase it.

Then lunch at the Museum Tavern - spinach soup and sandwiches of cheddar and chutney - and we parted ways.

 

Alison tubed to Harrods whilst I continued on to the Natural History Museum and the much-touted new Darwin Centre. What it really is, is much-improved storage space for their millions of plant and animal specimens, but the visitor can now peer into the scientists' working spaces and occasionally interact with them. The exhibits were interactive, too, my favorite being one on how to pack for an expedition. I scored points for the long-sleeved shirts but lost them for choosing alcohol and gloves over old-fashioned pins for impaling my specimens.

The original building is very reminiscent of Oxford's museum

 

(it even has a couple dodos),

 

and Mr. Darwin has pride of place at the top of the staircase.

 

My feet were worn to nubs by the time I hobbled home to Earls Court. Alison had found a great restaurant for our last night's dinner. Whit's was run by the most friendly and charming woman - we felt as though she had invited us to dinner herself - and featured delicious food. Rabbit with chestnuts and prunes! Souffle for dessert! How will we ever return home to our mud huts?

Catching up

On Sunday morning we visited the Queen's Gallery, but the high point was seeing the Royals returning from the wreath-laying on the Cenotaph, and witnessing the parade of veterans.

In the afternoon we did another London Walk, this one to the Little Venice area. Named by Robert Browning, it was created just before trains took over. Our guide, Shaughan, who sang and recited poetry and jokes at the drop of a hat, told us that you can navigate for miles by canal, as far up as Birmingham.
Here's a view, with Richard Branson's canalboat on the left.

 

Today, Monday, we followed a walk through Kensal Green Cemetery, a Victorian-era cemetery, still in use, that includes gravestones from, among others, Anthony Trollope, the accoucheur who delivered all of Queen Victoria's children, and, most movingly, little Marigold, known as Duckadilly, daughter of Winston and Clementine Churchill, who died at age two. The calligraphy is by Eric Gill.

 

It was a perfect day for a cemetery walk, cool and grey and damp. The cemetery seems to be falling down in a gentle way, with stones askew or missing. Our guidebook, "TimeOut Book of London Walks," included a rant by Lucinda Lambton against the poor quality of current funerary art, and I must agree.

This afternoon we made our way to the Portrait Gallery for a special exhibit, "From Beatles to Bowie," photos of the Stones, the Beatles, and other ancient luminaries. My favorite was the photo of Robin Williamson and Mike Heron who made up The Incredible String Band. Did not know that it had been taken in Frank Zappa's garden... Keith Richards looks remarkably young in the early pictures - hard to believe he turned into the ravaged pirate he is today.

We limped gallantly home, getting ready for the BM and Darwin tomorrow.