Red Admiral Butterflies, Cherry Blossom, May 4th 2012

Like a fairytale,  this is what's going on in my backyard right now. A little hard to see but there must be 30 to 40 Red Admiral Butterflies on my cherry tree, delighting in the sun shine and the blossoms.

Tempus Fugit

I can't believe it's been a more than a year. Before winter falls, here are some more pictures of Giverny.

Grow - Leadwort "Blue Plumbago"

This spreading ground-cover is about to bloom in my garden and about time too. It's half-past August and the flowers arrive on Leadwort "Blue Plumbago" in the late summer. It has lovely deep blue flowers and it's foliage (FOL-I-AGE, not foilage) turns a reddish bronze in the fall. It takes a long time to come into its own in the spring and I almost chucked it.I'm glad I didn't. I bought about $200-worth of plants at this time last year - coral bells, false indigo, lantana - all-professing to be perennial. This Leadwort is the only one that hasn't let me down.

Partridge -no Pear Tree

This is what was sitting on my fence Monday afternoon, just under the willow tree. It's a red-legged or chukar partridge. You know how fast things enter one's mind. At first I thought it was a run-away guinea fowl from the nearby High Park zoo. Then I thought it was a freakishly big mourning dove. Then I thought it was a quail.

It was still for a long time; at least 5 minutes. Maybe it was mesmerized by the barn owl I had painted.

Anyway Jersey yipped, the bird yeeped and flew away wheek, wheek into the neighbour's garden.

Out Came the Sun and Dried Up All the Rain.

The itsy-bitsy spider
Climbed up the water spout
Down came the rain
And washed the spider out
Out came the sun
And dried up all the rain
And the itsy-bitsy spider
Climbed up the spout again

Photos Copyright Hazel Smith

Poppy

While walking the dog, I found these poppies in a neighbour's garden. I was delighted at how these poppies were complemented by the maroon leaves of the smokebush and I had to return home for a camera.

update. I wish all my posts were as popular as this one. This photo has been reblogged over 26,000 times.

Bee

Here's a carpenter bee obviously bee-sotted by the scent of my climbing hydrangea. I've beeeen practicing with my son's camera.

I'm Too Sexy for My Pot

Wow. I tried to take a picture of my newly-acquired Hibiscus but they all came out overly-turgid, if you  know what I mean. Here's my sexy hibiscus bought from the corner store and a tiny corner of my patio.

 

A mirror I found in the garbage last week; a house plaque made in pottery class circa 1996; a street-sign that my brother swears he did not steal for me 39 years ago from a university town in southern Ontario; and in the top right  - a cat skull. Sorry, the dog found it. It's fitting. 

Smell-a-vision

I wish I could share the smell of my Climbing Hydrangea. Right now it fills the garden with a yummy aroma which is a bit Rose Peony and a bit cucumber.

Hydrangea petiolaris is a great climber. It produces aerial roots and can glom on to just about anything and it produces these beautiful white flowers.

Mine was here when I moved in a dozen years ago. Apparently they can take up to three years to take off but are well worth waiting for. They don't really love the sun and are best planted with at least their roots in the shade. They can thrive even in a north-facing shady position. My hydrangea faces east and on the shady north side of my house.

Late Bloomers

Uggh. It's been such a cold, wet spring. Everything in my backyard is about 2 weeks behind. If the weather carries on this way it will be July 1st before I see any substantial colour in my garden. Since I wrote my final exam on Tuesday I've been toiling in the garden; transplanting from front yard to back yard, (that's lots of fun in a row house), dividing, moving, fertilizing, pruning and raking. Jersey, my Lab, ate a Jerusalem artichoke. I think I'm going to rename her Hoover as in "she will Hoover up anything".

It's nice today, but it's only 16 degrees Celcius or 60 F. Once we get past the predicted thunderstorm on Saturday, it should be a nice weekend, but temperatures are only going to reach 20 Celsius or 68F.

My husband decided he'd like some Celosia (Cockscomb) in the garden for some colour. Can "Dusty Miller" be far behind? I'll post more pictures of my garden as the weather warms.

My homage to Giverny, painted on an old patio table, is against the fence

Structure in the top right, affectionately known as the poop-deck, is a dog-sized litter box

Giverny

Giverny: Jzee-VAIR-nie (click here for pronunciation)

This was the day I went to Monet's home in the countryside, Giverny.

Picking me up from my hotel lobby was Said, a driver with Paris Vision who he had come into work on his day off. He looked exactly like Cuba Gooding Jr. with a limp. Driving through Paris, which is something I'd never done before, we picked up one family from Australia and a couple from Brazil.

After circling the Arche de Triomphe we took a 4 km tunnel under Neuilly and La Defense. Then in the countryside, to avoid the Forêt de Marly, a forest which was once the hunting estate of the French Kings staying at Versailles, we dropped into another tunnel.

After an hour Said asked if we could take the scenic route rather than follow the usual route through Vernon. So we entered Giverny by first driving through tiny winding limestone villages with names like Bonnieres-sur-Seine, Bennecourt and Limetz-Villez.
 
Giverny was small. I had heard that, but I wasn't really prepared for how small. I think many people believe it's going to be a botanical garden, but it's the Clos Normand, the crazy flower garden of about 2 acres outside Monet's front door and the lily pond.

When Monet and his family settled in Giverny in 1883, he removed the pine trees from the property and filled his land with a multitude of flowerbeds with annuals and perennials, ornamental trees and climbing roses. Although Monet did not like organized or constrained gardens, he planned his garden by hue and let it grow freely, so that that his garden would be a riot of colour at any time of the year. For example, at this time of the year the central alley leading up to his house is taken over by a carpet of nasturtiums.

With the passing years Monet developed a passion for botany, trading plants with his friend Clemenceau and Caillebotte.

Ten years after Monet's arrival at Giverny he bought a piece of neighbouring land, then on the other side of the railway -  now the road. He had a pond excavated and developed it in the style of the Japanese gardens Monet knew from the prints he collected.

I had two hours to spend at Giverny. I started my wanderings at the lily pond. At first I didn't think the colours would be that spectacular - but they were.

Everywhere I turned was a photo opportunity and I made the most of it. So did most other people including a Japanese woman on the Japanese Bridge with a Japanese umbrella. She was on the bridge mugging for her husband the whole time I was down at the pond. It was a "once in a life-time" experience, so I can't begrudge her, but she'll be witnessed in some of my pictures.

The upper garden, The Clos Normand, was an explosion of colour, even in Mid-October.

Monet's gorgeous pink and green house was fun to see but not well-curated. The feeling I got standing in his studio was extremely evocative of what it must have been like 120 years ago. Yellow and gray furniture decorated the house as did Monet's Japanese prints and family photos of weddings and parties. A nice touch.

The dining room and the kitchen were my favourite parts of the house. I looked into a silvered mirror in the dining room and thought that once Monet had done the same. The blue and white tiled kitchen with its plethora of copper utensils is amazing. I had drooled for years over it in the book, Monet's Table.


Always a critic, I think the whole house would have been better off being "done" as if Monet had just left the room instead of the "Please don't touch" signs sprinkled throughout the house. But that's just me.

As a group we also had tickets to the Impressionist Museum down the road which I found to be an extreme waste of time, but I suppose it depends on who's on display. Maximilien Luce did not impress.

The rest of the town of Giverny was supremely lovely. But now it's time to let my pictures do the talking. 

T

Paris Walks 5 - Fun and Romance in the Tuileries

After Deyrolle on the Rue du Bac, we weren’t very far from our destination that day – the Musee Dorsay.

But as we’d been walking and visiting and peeking in bookstores since 8:30 that morning I was pretty cranky with hunger. My husband doesn’t suffer from this affliction. But my empty tummy leads to a bad mood that can spoil the whole day.

G is a Leo and I think that has something to do with making sure he has the perfect backdrop, soundtrack, clothes, before he can enjoy himself – meaning instead of eating on the steps of the Museum we had to walk the extra ¼ mile to cross the footbridge across the Seine and eat in the Tuileries. Which was a very good idea.

We had packed a picnic of sorts the night before; a bag of really rich mini-croissants and Baby Bell cheeses, juices. Some yogurts we had picked up a long the way. We plunked ourselves down on a bench and had our picnic.

The three of us were amazed to find that the old stereotype of Paris being for lovers was true. On almost every bench there were couples kissing, embracing or in some sort of romantic clinch. At one point a couple got up, dusted themselves off and were replaced on the bench with another couple who started necking almost immediately.

We ate our Baby Bell goudas which came at that time with a toy. This time it was a long colourful sausage-shaped balloon with a plastic squeaker attached to the end. This was a great delight to N. who was 9 at the time. We’d blow it up for him and it would squeal along the boulevards between the chestnuts in the Tuileries. Time after time we’d blow it up and N would run after it down the paths, jumping and laughing. At one point the balloon got caught in a tree and with some improvising and a rake that we found and bashing the tree with my purse we got the balloon to fall.

All this levity and a full stomach prepared me for the visit to the Musee Dorsay.



Photo 1 is actually the promenade at the Hotel des Invalides, but you get the point.

Photo 2 IS the Tuileries. I saved about 5 years ago. I don't know where it came from but the man in the 3rd chair from the left looks so much like my husband I really thought it was he.

The Patio