18 Nov THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS
Today my head has been in the glasshouse. Martin did an amazing job of measuring all the tricky, odd angled frames and after some power weeding (involving timing yourself along a strip of box hedging!) we headed back to the glaziers. The specific glazier shall remain nameless, but Martin and I were distinctly underwhelmed. After telling us that we had interrupted his imminent lunch break which would take an hour and, ‘Could we browse the shops for Christmas decorations or something?’ we were about to leave empty handed in disgust when Mr Glass disappeared and we heard the cutting machine whir into action.
To add insult to injury, none of the glass was wrapped in any way, something to do with the company not being responsible for health and safety, so we wrapped our beloved panes in horticultural fleece and chose the lesser pot holed route back. All I can say is that the journey was akin to a roller coaster. Each time we rounded a corner there was an uneasy creaking sound as the glass shifted and squeaked. ‘Imagine working with this stuff all the time!’ said Martin and we laughed.
No wonder the glazier was on edge. We decided that Mrs Glass (he wore a wedding ring) was probably a broken woman.
Now that the glasshouse is clearer, we are uncovering some lovely details. Look at this chest used for so many years as a pot stow, I just love the font. I wonder what originally arrived at BE inside? Talking of history, Tony brought in a real treat for us today, a wonderful photo album made by his daughter as a keepsake of BE. When the hall and grounds went up for sale earlier this year, there was a very real threat of the grounds being lost to neglect. No one knew what would happen. It was fascinating to see some of the items that were sold by auction and in particular an arch set into the wall of the walled garden that has puzzled me. I am always drawn to the spot as the light beams through the south facing arch in a specific way. In Tony’s photo’s, there it was, complete with statue of Madonna and child.
Not sure if I mentioned it before, but we have a consecrated Catholic chapel built within the walls of our garden. This must make us one of the rarest types of walled gardens. I guess that the chapel must originally have been a bothy where the young garden boys would have lived, but it was converted years ago. Inside is breathtaking, a wonderfully ornate altar and stained glass windows. Sometimes if I’m working nearby, I open the door and it feels as if peace spills out.
Ah well, the end of another long, but lovely day. I could tell you about the goldfish, but I’ll save them for tomorrow. Instead I will leave you with this:
Nature never did betray the heart that loved her.