Undesirable Aliens ?

 

As though to mock my coppicing delights last time, the bamboo clumps, I suddenly realised, had not only invaded adjoining real estate as it is wont to do, but also put up some arrow straight shoots well over 10 feet tall. As  ‘bean poles’ they would be impossible to beat, and also just had to be cut down to reduce the speed at which our garden turned into a Wiltshire version of Borneo. Accordingly they would be available whether I wanted them or not. But what really got me wondering was how I could not have noticed them before ? Cherry always used to say I was probably the least observant person on the planet, and this provides further evidence that she was right in this as in all things. Anyhow, I have been noticing things around the garden as its bursts into late Spring luxuriance that I had never noticed before – strange and wonderful plants that I had no idea of, all over the place. I had, though,  noted our giant  poppy from last year, but could hardly have avoided it this year. It’s probably visible from space.

But these were residents. More of an issue were the 'undesirable aliens' - the appearance of wild flowers where they are not supposed to be and so get counted as weeds. Last year I left some patches of bright orange hawkweed in one of the front lawns- or rather areas of grass. I had already decided to do the same this year with a buttercup area and the cowslips before them. Then the latest edition of the RHS Garden magazine said one should think about the bees and other pollinators and leave the grass to them. Always liking to be at the non-cutting edge of horticultural endeavour I broached the idea to Chris my part-time gardener, but could tell he wasn’t keen.  I tumbled it in the end. He thought being looked at from the road an environmental lawn could be considered neglect and so not good for his reputation with the less enlightened, so we compromised with clearly demarcated areas of cut and uncut next to one another. For a while at least it looks quite nice – makes me feel virtuous and saves me a lot of mowing.    

It’s commonly argued at the moment that the lockdown had made everyone enjoy nature and their gardens more. I have concluded that just because everyone is saying it,  doesn’t mean it isn’t true.

It certainly looks as though President Biden is set on providing me with plenty of opportunity to re-discover this for myself. Because I too am undesirable alien. In March Biden reissued his predecessor’s proclamation  which in effect banned entry from people from the UK and the Schengen area of Europe. With an improving situation (we hope !) there was an expectation that this would soon be repealed or at least amended. But there’s no sign of it yet. There were some exceptions for certain types of visa holders, but given the truly Byzantine nature of US regulations, I got the Human Resources people at Newport to check whether my type of visa came within this category. Needless to say, it doesn’t. So at the moment I am banned entry. Of course at the G7 Biden and Boris agreed to set up a taskforce to open UK-US travel and get me back to Newport, but insiders suggest this won’t be any time soon.

The result for Newport is what appears to be an unprecedented situation, a foreign national working as a Federal employee currently on a ‘teleworking’ basis (via Zoom) from outside the country. Nothing like this has ever been done before, apparently. And nobody seems to know what to do about it ! Moreover, my request to turn my current contract into a part-time one is equally complicated and also never been done before for an ‘alien.’ I had a Zoom meeting with one Admiral, a Captain equivalent and no less than  five HR specialists in various aspects of the situation which left matters completely unresolved. ‘We will look into it,’ they said eying each other uneasily. My visa expires in early September, which concentrates the mind, a bit. They can’t give me a job without a visa; and Immigration won’t give me a visa without a job.  Both issues have to be sorted, in an intricate dance, at exactly the same time. I'm fairly relaxed about it all actually.

But at least my accommodation and car + belongings issue has been eased even though my lease at Ocean View expires the week after next. My hosts have said they are happy to store the car until I can get over and that it will be perfectly safe in the garage. While because of the estate sale period the wider family will be using the Carriage House until mid August, I will be welcomed and somehow accommodated whenever I arrive and can  possibly stay in the Carriage House for a short period after mid August. My realtor expert says that Ocean View has been marketed at an 'aggressive' price and doesn’t seem to expect an early sale, but of course, one never knows. So I have a stay of execution on that front at any rate. They are being very nice. I just have a minor niggle – which is that it hadn’t even crossed my mind that I would be away for over a year and I have some food in the car as well – I just hope it isn’t hatching yet more bacteria we should be frightened of. (Cherry and I never quite got over discovering on one return to Singapore a pot of pepper that was heaving repellently when we got back after an absence of a few weeks, not to mention the mildew on my suit and shoes)

So a relatively quiet period now awaits. The main blobs of teaching are done, so I hope to be able to get on with my book for a few more weeks at least. The prospective boredom I hope will be relieved by family visits and other such diversions. The occasional trip to Devizes and village shop. Last time I did the latter  I was proceeded down the path very slowly by a couple of swans and three cygnets waddling along in an ungainly fashion quite at odds with the serenity of their more usual form of locomotion.

The main distraction though was a visit by the Till-Patricks this weekend. The weather wasn’t co-operative but we managed a barbecue at the back of the annex and a trip to Bristol to see Shelagh. It was a relief to see her in a reassuringly normal state, given her situation but she is certainly ‘going through the mill’ at the moment. She owes much to her circle of friends who helpfully seem to be of a largely medical persuasion. The only disappointment was the three cats, even the usually friendly if enormous Harry (watching whose progress through the cat flap is rather like seeing toothpaste going back into the tube- it just didn’t look possible)  took a decidedly dim view of the young princess in our midst. Otherwise it was all very pleasant and the Falafell King on Cotham Hill enjoyed our custom again.

Back home, we were also able to renew acquaintance with the cows and enjoy a canal-side walk, although the latter word would be stretching a point for the princess !  No otters again, and this time no swans, either.  And then, of course, these far from undesirable aliens needed to return to their own planet while I went back to my book and the wild flowers.  

       

The Woodlander

 

I'm pretty sure that it's hidden in Far From the Madding Crowd but haven't been able to find it. (It's not in The Woodlanders) Our much put-upon heroine goes off with her maid to visit one of the latter's relatives - an 'ingenious man of the woods' who distractingly interests her with the uses to which he can out the materials all around him. Well, I think  I come into the category now. I was putting up my bean sticks but realised that I didn't have enough for the industrial scale I like to engage in. And then I thought of what real old countrymen do instead of buying the neat bundles of bamboo you can get in garden centres. They cut much sturdier and long-lasting poles from hazel trees. That was one of the main purposes of coppicing - along with getting the wherewithal for basket and hurdle making. I had already noted and filed away for possible future use that a couple of my hazels had such suitable growths, and so off I went, wood-saw in hand.

The first Till to do any coppicing for a hundred years perhaps. Maybe 'Uncle Jim' a builder/flint-knapper/gravedigger in Singleton, who died in 1931 did it - who knows ? I got six eight footers, and there still some left on the tree. enough for me now and for next year if needed.  A great sense of historic accomplishment ! Thomas Hardy - and his ladies - would have been pleased.

The wood (- or copse - when does a copse become a wood ? Is there a number of trees ? It's got about 50) is looking completely different from the bleakness of winter. Festooned in shoulder-high cow parsley. Everything out in fresh green leaf  of various sizes.  It looked magical in the evening sun. Easy to imagine fairies flitting through the undergrowth 

Most of the little saplings I planted last Autumn to thicken up the hedges between me and the cruel, cruel world outside have survived  and seemed to be flourishing. This was despite the very cold snap we had which finished off my over-wintering broad beans and all too many flowers of various descriptions. But now all is forgiven and everything looks great. I suppose one has to go with the flow and enjoy what comes. Spectacular Aquilegia this year popping up, unguidedly,  all over the place, even in the paths. A real picture. Interestingly a Amazon driver delivering something last week was most envious of my Birds of Paradise. An expert on the subject apparently, he said 'It would cost you a £150 to get one like that, ' I resolved to take better care of it. 

But of course the best part of the week was a visit by Team Powell. They all tested themselves and were reassuringly normal and stayed inside the house this time  - the first overnighters for a very long while. Despite the grey and threateningly drizzly weather we had a barbecue at the back of the annex which was enjoyed by all. The first day we went for a local trip. First to Redhorn Hill. This is actually a clump of trees up on the north escarpment of Salisbury Plain, which you can see from the garden. There's a well made up by-way from there to Dogtail wood which runs parallel with the fence that surrounds the danger area. Although the vedette for admittance was closed, the red-flag was flying so we couldn't actually go deeper into the plain. Instead we walked along to Dogtail wood and spotted a nice spot for a picnic. We drove there and settled in.  Tremendously wide views to north and south; we couldn't quite make out the house, but certainly got the location. In the middle distance a swarm of bi-planes performed silent aerobatics. The quietness was complete save for the occasional Army jeep and armoured personnel carriers rumbling past on the track above. It was all very atmospheric.

And so in its way was the nearby National Garden Scheme garden in nearby Market Lavington to which we next repaired.  An extraordinary place; allegedly just one acre, though its winding paths and thick vegetation made it seem much more than that. Some great plants certainly but chiefly to be remembered for the great piles if 'rubbish' stacked all over the place. Dismantled greenhouses, piles of wood, great heaps of sacks, bags of gravel. Some large saplings sturdily growing through a purple plastic vegetable container once temporarily dropped by the side of the path, rather provided the clue. This was the achievement of a lifetime. A fascinating visit even if not altogether to our taste. The 'Chiff special shepherd's pie' that evening certainly was, though.

The following day to Bristol and Shelagh, who we found in encouragingly good form, despite her situation. Her garden too was packed with plants, a real refuge from reality for her and for her beloved cats. Again a place hovering on the edge of disorder but with far, far fewer piles of distraction lying around. Just enough though to signify that she's a real gardener ? Not one to vacuum the lawn for a clean and tidy effect. And so to the Botanic Garden,

the amazing Clifton suspension bridge, the expensively trendy village and to the falafel cafe in the middle of Cotham Hill surrounded by hordes of students. It reminded me strongly of our many visits to Granny in her nearby home,  and of course of Cherry's last trip here nearly four years ago now. Hard to believe its actually that much time. .

After a final Chinese take-away enjoyed outside like all our meals at Wansdyke (from choice not necessity), Team Powell departed for their long trip home for a weekend of Martha's dancing classes, Macbeth, revision for Barney's 'mock mocks'  and Chiff's Hockey match. As for me after two days of very special and official  'leave' from Newport it was back to the usual grindstone.....