Sunday 8 July 2018

Tinkle tinkle

Back when I lived in Manorhouse L and before we upgraded to a castle, Mrs L and I had a fountain. My memory of exactly why has faded with time, although I do remember that the rocks I put in it fell to bits after a few years and the whole thing clogged up and died whereupon I threw it out. However it got there it was nice though, nothing fancy, just a small pump in a bucket really, but surrounded by lush foliage it added to the jungle atmosphere. My love of plants dates from this period I think - we moved in to a house with a conservatory that was empty, and I subsequently filled it with green things to the point we could barely get in there and had to move. I've done much the same with the new place according to Mrs L.

Anyhow, with the reopening of the Temperate House at Kew Gardens earlier this year, Famille L headed west for a day trip. I've been going to Kew for years, indeed if you look very carefully in some of the glasshouses you will find some plants labelled up with "LETH" - I donated some tiny seedlings about a decade ago and they are now significantly bigger than the ones I kept! The power of winter heat and gardeners who know what they are doing. The plants were incredible as always, but what struck us most was the landscaping within some of the collections, and the presence of water and how that tied in with the planting. We came straight back to Wanstead and installed a stream running throughout the length of the house, culminating in a waterfall out of the back door.

Actually we didn't. We bought a small pump and another bucket.

There is an element of chav I'll admit, especially as I hooked it up to one of those smart plugs so that the thing can be voice-activated, but equally there are few things more pleasurable than the soft tinkling of water in the background as the mirrored surface catches the light. When I win the lottery I'll do it properly, for now I am enjoying this very much.


  1. "Manorhouse L, Mrs L, Famille L" - I mean this sincerely buddy, you do put a grin on my face. I imagine you surrounded by silken clad courtiers, a stable full of dashed fine horses and maybe a hammered dulcimer in the corner, next to the jester at the fire hearth. Wanstead, fair Wanstead, o' how you gladden my heart....

    1. That is exactly the image I want to cultivate. I don't actually go to work at all, that's just a myth. Actually I just lie here being fanned whilst servants pop freshly-picked grapes into my mouth. Dulcimers? Loads of them.

  2. Doesn't the constant running water make you want to go for a pee the whole time?