Boot Camp

 

Boot Camp

Arthur's first experience of boot camp, at the beginning of April.

This rather aggressive term is used to describe a rigorous fitness programme, designed to improve physical strength and stamina.

Our middle daughter has been going to boot camp with her dog, Arthur. Because of work commitments, she cannot always attend. Consequently, Arthur hasn’t had much exposure to the regime, so hasn’t fully appreciated its purpose. 

Principally, as he sees it, his purpose in life is to protect Susannah, mainly by trying to get inside her skin.

Arthur at boot camp today (Tuesday). Is he doing a press-up, or trying to prevent Susannah doing whatever she's doing?

There is another dog who attends, a well-behaved whippet.

Archangel

 

Archangel

               Variegated yellow archangel. The flowers are yet to open.

Lamium (sometimes lamiastrum) galeobdolon, a member of the mint family, and also known as yellow dead-nettle, yellow weasel-snout, and artillery plant, is generally referred to as yellow archangel. It is a common woodland and hedgerow plant, flowering from late spring. It is often an indicator of ancient woodland and a useful food source for bees and other pollinators.

Though its leaves look like those of stinging nettles, it is benign, and is one of the common red, white and yellow dead nettles. It provides effective ground cover and grows best in moist conditions, though it can adapt quickly to drier soil.

Although it does not sting, it is mildly poisonous to domestic pets if consumed, but the leaves and stems can safely be eaten by humans in salads, or cooked, in a similar fashion to nettles.

The plants have been used by herbalists to relieve ailments as diverse as kidney problems, sciatica, and allergies.

An introduced garden strain, Lamiastrum galeobdolon argentatum or Florentinum has bold silver markings on its leaves. It is sometimes called the aluminium archangel, and, like many non-native species, it can become invasive in conditions favourable to it.

All of the dead-nettles are referred to as ‘archangels’ because their leaves are said to look like an angel’s wings. Another explanation is that the flower clusters resemble choristers in their robes. A third reason given is that some species of the plant, notably the red and white dead-nettles, open their flowers around St Michael’s Day, on 27^th April. 

St Michael the Archangel is often considered the most important of the angels, though still among the lowest orders of angels, which are ranked as Seraphim, Cherubim and Thrones, followed by the middle orders of Dominions, Virtues and Powers. The lowest ranks are Principalities, Archangels and Angels.

The dead-nettles are not bound by such a hierarchy!

The plants in my garden are variegated yellow dead-nettles, and the flowers are not yet fully open on this day following St Michael’s Day.

The common names of ‘archangel’ and ‘dead-nettle’ have been used for centuries. More information can be found here.

 

 

Dandelion

 

Dandelion

 

The First Dandelion

Simple and fresh and fair from winter’s close emerging,

As is no artifice of fashion, business, politics, had ever been,

Forth from its sunny nook of shelter’d grass – innocent, golden, calm as the dawn,

The spring’s first dandelion shows its trustful face.

Walt Whitman (1879-1931)

Walt Whitman was an American journalist and poet.

Common dandelions (Taraxacum officinale) are a cheerful, bright yellow and grow in abundance if allowed to do so. The flowers emerge from an evergreen rosette with a long, strong taproot. There are more than two hundred species of Taraxacum in the UK. The name comes from the French ‘dents de lion’ (lion’s teeth) because the notched, pointed leaves are reminiscent of lion’s teeth.

Flowering from March to October, they are a rich and valuable source of food to bees and butterflies in spring, when other flowers are not yet producing nectar and pollen. The flower stems are hollow and emit a milky substance when broken.

 It is said that this sap is useful when tracking animals, because it takes twelve hours to dry, so it is easy to establish when an animal has used a trail. I don’t know if rain affects the efficacy of such a clue! The sap can also be used to soothe stings and blisters. Some even claim that it can cure warts.

 Leaves and flowers are edible and can be used in salads, and can be used alongside the root to make medicine for kidney ailments. The dried root can also be ground to make coffee.

Dandelion wine, made from the flowers, is said to be beneficial for indigestion and kidney problems. To be more efficacious, it is advisable to gather the flowers on May Day.

When we had home-grown slaves, we made dandelion wine, and it was delicious. We haven’t made it since they grew up and left home. Picking the flowers disproved the old wives’ tale that they cause bed-wetting.

One of the joys of dandelions is the seed head, known as a clock, or fairy clock. The seeds are light and designed to float far and wide. Young children enjoy blowing the seeds, making a wish as they do so. Otherwise, they may count the number of times they have to blow to disperse them all, which they believe gives the hour of the day.

The seeds also provide food for small birds, like finches.

Fruit farmers have been known to encourage dandelions in their orchards, because the ethylene exuded from the plants helps to ripen the fruit.

Those who wish to try and eradicate dandelions from their gardens can do so quite readily, without recourse to chemicals. However, plants can regenerate from small sections of root, so care should be taken when digging them up or composting them.

Jellicoe update

                                                                 Jellicoe update

                                                Bad hair day!

Barry collected Jellicoe about 7.30 on Tuesday evening, together with antibiotics and pain killers. Huge swathes of fur had been shaved off in order that a glucose monitor could be attached to his skin, so that we could check his glucose levels regularly. It fell off, almost as soon as he jumped out of the cat basket, and the vet practices – three of them, fairly local to us – didn’t have any replacements. There are a number of diabetic cats in the area, and all the monitors have been distributed.

He also had a natty red bandage round one leg, presumably where a drip had been inserted. That has now disappeared, slowly descending the limb, until it fell off - the bandage,  not the leg..

So, we cannot keep an eye on his glucose levels, but we can still count his breaths!! Yes, really! If his breathing becomes too rapid again, we will have to take him back to the vet immediately.

This is where Alexa (Amazon’s cloud-based voice service) comes in handy. The command is, ‘Alexa, timer, 15 seconds’, and we count the number of times Jellicoe breathes, then multiply by four to calculate the breaths per minute. A cat may take between 15 and 30 breaths per minute. Anything consistently over 40 is cause for concern.

For comparison, a healthy adult’s resting breathing rate is normally between 12 and 20 breaths per minute. (Mine is typically 15.7) For infants, 30 to 60 breaths per minute is normal. For dogs, 15 to 35 is considered standard.

To counter any possible infection, Jellicoe had been prescribed penicillin, to be taken by mouth. We put it in his food. He sniffed, took a cautious lick, and turned away. We tried it on one of his special treats. No dice!

I believe drenching is a normal method of dispensing medicines to farm animals, delivering the medication through a tube to the back of the throat. The canine version of this method, with a syringe, is easy, but using it for felines is much trickier, because of tiny mouths and sharp teeth. We managed to overcome those obstacles, but the liquid in the syringe, though not a huge amount, was spat out, all over us.

 We think enough of the pain relief was absorbed by our somewhat miffed cat, but then we had to administer the antibiotic, and this time everyone in the vicinity ended up with some of it. This was followed by much foaming at the mouth – Jellicoe, that is, not Barry and me.

I cannot think such stress is beneficial for Jellicoe, and it’s not doing us a lot of good, either, but we shall persevere. Fortunately, Jellicoe is a very good-tempered cat, and never bites or scratches.

By the way, these medicines are labelled, ‘palatable,’ presumably by someone with no sense of taste!

Gilbert is always in the forefront when anything relating to something to be ingested is in the offing. Consequently, he has been liberally dressed in penicillin and ibuprofen. I noticed Jellicoe licking him a short while ago, so perhaps that’s the way to ensure that he gets the doses he needs.

The fur around Jellicoe’s ears and neck and mouth was quite stiff on his return home, so I think our experience of dosing him is not unusual. As he spits and shakes his head, the liquid lands on his coat, and dries, rather in the way that hair conditioner stiffens if not rinsed out. After all, if the veterinary experts have difficulties, what hope is there for mere civilians?

By Thursday, Jellicoe was more alert and had resumed his ‘call to food’ at four-hourly intervals.   

 Today, Saturday, Jellicoe is fully recovered, attacking Herschel if he happens to be in the way. The assault is a quick nip, so nothing very serious, but poor Herschel is not keen on such attention.

I remembered the 'scruffing' method of administering medicine and that  has worked quite well. 

 When mother cats transport their kittens, they pick them up by the scruff of the neck. They react by becoming limp and therefore easier to carry.  Scruffing an adult cat doesn't make it go limp. I hold the scruff of Jellicoe's neck while he's on my lap. I don't attempt to hold him up! That would be painful for him. 

My interpretation, which may be entirely incorrect, is that it awakens memories of kittenhood and brings about a similar acquiescence.  Whatever, we have reached the end of the medicines now, and life can return to normal . . . until the next bank holiday! 

Desktop images

 

Desktop images

My current desktop image is of penguins processing towards the ocean. They look so purposeful.

I have identified them as either Magellanic penguins (Spheniscus magellanicus) or African penguins (Spheniscus demersus) but could well be wrong on both counts.

Although I like penguins, and enjoy seeing them cavorting on rocks and in the sea, my knowledge of them is not extensive and I have to turn to the internet to try and discover more about them. The desktop image is not clear enough to make a decisive identification.

                        Magellanic penguin  (Spheniscus magellanicus) 

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

The Magellanic penguin is native to South America and was named after Ferdinand Magellan, the Portuguese explorer who first observed them in 1520. These penguins can have a lifespan of 25 years in the wild, and longer in captivity. One individual, called Captain Eo, lived at San Francisco Zoo and was 40 when he died in 2022.

Magellanic penguins are known to be monogamous and raise their two chicks collaboratively. Young males seeking a mate have a call that sounds like a braying donkey. They are sometimes called ‘jackass penguins,’ because of this distinctive cry, along with some other penguins, like the African penguin.

Their diet consists of ocean fish, squid, krill, crustaceans, and jelly fish and they regularly dive 50 metres in search of their prey.

                            African penguin (Spheniscus demersus)

                                        Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

The African penguin (Spheniscus demersus) is the only penguin native to the Old World. (The Old World refers to those parts of the globe known before the 15^th century - Europe, Asia, and Africa. The New World references  North America, South America, and the Caribbean, which were discovered by European explorers during the late 15^th century and afterwards.)

The African penguin, in common with most penguin species, is monogamous, but is also critically endangered. Both parents share the upbringing of their two chicks. They feed on sardines, mackerel, anchovies, squid, and shrimps. Their life expectancy is up to 25 years, increasing to 34 years in captivity.

African penguin eggs were considered a delicacy into the middle 1960s, being collected in the thousands. At the same time, guano was being removed to be used as fertiliser, thus depriving nesting birds of material for burrowing.

Banking

 

Banking

                            Crowthorne Baptist Church

In common with many communities, our ‘village’ no longer has any banks or building societies, and the only post office is away from the centre of the village near the railway station, and thus not very convenient. There is a cashpoint in the high street, and another two in locations further out.

We have many hairdressers, barbers, beauty salons, charity shops, refreshment premises, and what seems like an endless number of residential and retirement homes.

                        The Cash Hub deals with all major UK banks

Recently, the local  Baptist church opened a Cash Hub, which is open from 9.00 am to 5.00 pm on Monday to Friday. Here, people can withdraw cash, deposit cash or cheques, and pay utility bills. Registered businesses can collect change. The service is free and will be extremely useful for those many people who do not use online banking and prefer to conduct their business personally. I’m sure there are a lot of grateful people in the village.

The church is in the middle of the high street, close to the local library, which is also a hub of activity.

Now, if only some philanthrope would purchase the empty buildings, and use them for something useful, rather than demolishing them and building more bijou residences on vanishingly small plots of land . . .

Collies

 

Collies

Collies are not my favourite dogs, but they are impressive workers. My first teaching job was in Stanford-in-the-Vale, in the Vale of the White Horse, home of Pam Ayres, whose poems have always amused me.

The headteacher of the primary school was Joan Perkins. Her husband was a lecturer at the Royal Military College of Science, Shrivenham, where Barry was studying electrical engineering.

Joan was a charming woman, very pleasant, and tall. At one time, she had a collie which used to herd the children to school. He also used to accompany her to church, where he would sit quietly and attentively, until the vicar began his sermon, at which point he would discreetly exit the building.

Bank holidays!

 

Bank holidays!

Jellicoe and Gilbert after a busy Easter Sunday

Bank holidays are days when banks, specifically, and many other businesses, are closed. They are days of celebration or commemoration of religious or historical events.

There will be eight bank (public) holidays in England and Wales in 2025. Scotland’s holidays are slightly different – they have nine, and Northern Ireland has ten. Scotland recognises St Andrew’s Day, that saint being their patron saint. Ireland’s patron saint, St Patrick, is celebrated with a bank holiday too, while neither England’s St George nor St David of Wales qualify for a special holiday.

If a bank holiday occurs at a weekend, another day is substituted. This is normally the following Monday.

We’ve just had two bank holidays, Good Friday and Easter Monday, making a pleasant long weekend for those who were able to take the time off.

There is always a slight sense of relief for us when the bank holidays draw to a close and normal service is resumed, and maybe that is true for everyone. It there is to be an emergency, we’d rather it occurred during ‘office hours,’ as it were.

Last evening, at ten o’clock, Barry discovered Jellicoe lying on the kitchen floor under a chair. This is not normal behaviour for him. He spends all his time with us. He had been fine at seven, when he had his final meal of the day, but now he was fairly unresponsive, and breathing quite rapidly.

Barry brought him back into the sitting room and we stroked and watched him, and then decided we could not risk leaving him until the morning. By midnight, he was in the veterinary hospital a few miles from our house. His glucose levels were exceptionally low, and the conclusion was that he had an infection of some sort.

At present, some fifteen hours later, the opinion seems to be that he probably has pancreatitis, which he has suffered in the past. At some point in the near future, he will need to be referred to specialists, as a scan showed potential problems with his heart and lungs.

We’re told he is stable and ‘a lovely cat.’ He is a particularly good patient, keeping his teeth and claws to himself and enjoying human attention.

Now, it’s a waiting game.

Meanwhile, Herschel is pacing the house, looking rather lost, wondering where his sparring partner has gone. Though he gives the impression of liking the idea of being an only cat, he misses his brother. He is enjoying having the dogs to himself, though.

We didn’t get to bed until two a.m.

I thought we might have a little respite from the morning alarm of miaous, always emitted by Jellicoe. It was not to be. Herschel took it upon himself to yowl and walk all over my hair. There’s no peace for the wicked. We must be very wicked!       

Update: Jellicoe is coming home tonight, (Tuesday)  with antibiotics and a change of food! We are relieved.

                             

Visits

 

Visits

Push-up puppet. I love these little toys! He looks as if he has strange growths on his legs, but they're tree branches behind  him.

I had an ophthalmology appointment last Wednesday – just the usual annual check – but I postponed it as I’m still learning to walk without falling over (I jest!)

It was fortunate that I had, because our eldest daughter, Gillian, arrived unexpectedly with her younger daughter, and three of her grandchildren. Gillian has three children and six grandchildren, ranging in age from one month to twelve years. So, we had Ariella, a very competent four-year-old, and her brother Luca, who is two and a half, and their cousin, Melia, who is two. Melia had broken her arm in two places a few days previously, and had a half-cast on it, but it didn’t stop her doing everything she wanted to.

We had a delightful time with them. The children are all very accustomed to spending time with big dogs, so Roxy and Gilbert were simply accepted as part of the furniture. The cats were more of a novelty, but are unfazed by children, and can swiftly take to the heights if necessary.

They left for the homeward journey with Kiri’s car loaded with last Christmas’s presents and a selection of toys, books and bedding no longer needed in our house. We still have plenty left!

Blue Power Ranger. Apparently, he is autistic, I've just discovered! I think we have some different Power Rangers, too.

On Easter Sunday, Bethan and Robert came for lunch with Charlie and Jack. Barry had promised to cook a roast beef joint ‘sous vide.’

‘Sous vide is a cooking method where food is vacuum-sealedin a bag and then cooked in a precisely regulated water bath for a prolonged period at a low temperature.  This technique ensures even cooking, tender texture, and moisture retention in the food.'

The joint was ceremoniously placed in its water bath on Saturday morning, where it remained for twenty-four hours. While Barry went out for a walk with Bethan and family, and the dogs, I continued preparing vegetables. When they returned home, it was time for the moment of revelation.

 As Barry lifted the meat from the sous vide bath, the bag containing it split, and the beef ended up on the floor. I was so glad I wasn’t responsible for it and just cackled with laughter. It was swiftly picked up and run under the tap and patted dry, ready to be sealed in the frying pan. Roxy and Gilbert were delighted, and spent a long time licking up the juice, which otherwise would have supplemented the gravy. Barry will double-bag the meat next time!

 The meat was delicious, very tender, and moist. Bethan had made an apple and blackberry crumble, and I had made a fruit trifle, so we ‘filled our boots’ to capacity after the main course. We don’t usually eat much during the day. Barry has breakfast and supper, and I normally just have supper.

‘Sous vide’ requires forethought and planning, not something for which I am renowned. I’m more of a ‘look in the fridge and see what’s available’ cook.

Jack had made a collage for me, entitled, ‘The city and the sun’ and I’ve promised him that I’m going to mount and frame it. He also made me a birthday card, which made me laugh. 

Charlie made one, too, but he forgot to bring it with him. He said he'll bring it 'next time.'

Nearly everybody in our house slept very soundly last night. I had several bouts of cramp because I had been on my feet more than usual. It was a small price to pay for the privilege of spending quality time with family.

Tonight, we’re having cold meat and bubble and squeak, followed by fruit crumble and/or trifle. Then we’re returning to our usual light meals. It’s fun to have a blow-out now and then, though.

 

Spring jigsaw

Sunshine and Spring Flowers by Lucy Grossmith (1972 - present)

This is another small (14x14 cms)jigsaw of 77 pieces, from an illustration by Lucy Grossmith.

Lucy Grossmith was born in Lincolnshire and is now based in Sudbury, Suffolk, drawing inspiration from nature. 

Hot chocolate, drinking chocolate

 

Hot chocolate, drinking chocolate

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

Cadbury used to advertise drinking chocolate on television, probably still does, and the refrain, ‘Hot chocolate, drinking chocolate’ springs to mind every time that drink is mentioned.

 Most days I have at least one small mug of hot chocolate. I used to use cocoa or chocolate powder, then progressed to real chocolate flakes.

Talking to my grandson one day, he mentioned that he and his wife had a Velvetiser, which made a superb drink. I had seen a Velvetiser advertised on the Hotel Chocolat website. Hotel Chocolat is a chocolate-lover’s delight, and offers indulgent treats, at Christmas, Easter, birthdays, or just because.

I mulled over the benefits of acquiring a Velvetiser and was eventually persuaded (by Inspector Gadget, who else?) that it would be ‘A Good Thing.’ It makes a beautiful, smooth chocolate drink.

We tried many distinct types of chocolate, but eventually settled for six squares of Green and Black’s 85% organic chocolate bars, grated into milk. Six squares equate to eighteen grammes or 0.6 ounces.

I thought that 90% chocolate might be even better. I tried it this morning, but didn’t like it. 

The Blind Men and the Elephant

 

The Blind Men and the Elephant

                                    Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons 

John Godfrey Saxe (1816-1887) was an American poet who began his adult career as a lawyer, but turned to writing poetry, when the practice of law palled. The poem for which he is best remembered now was not the most admired one when he was alive.

‘The Blind Men and the Elephant’ refers to an old Indian parable, some of the earliest versions of which were recorded in around 500 BC in Buddhist, Hindu, and Jain texts. The parable explores the question of perception and man’s failure to see another’s point of view.

The six men meet an elephant for the first time and, each touching a different part of the beast, declare their description of the animal to be the correct interpretation. The first man claims that the elephant is like a wall, while the second, touching the tusk, says that it is like a spear. The third disagrees, for he has felt the trunk and so says the elephant is like a snake. When the fourth man touches the knee, he says the elephant resembles a tree, but the fifth man scorns him and says the elephant is like a fan. The part he has touched is an ear. The sixth man encounters the tail and says that the elephant is like a rope. The men then argue, each believing his interpretation and description to be the accurate one.

The penultimate verse states:

And so these men of Indostan

Disputed loud and long,

Each in his own opinion

Exceeding stiff and strong,

Though each was partly in the right,

And all were in the wrong!

In a slightly different vein, Irma E. Webber (1905-1995), wrote and illustrated, ‘It looks like this’ in 1949.

In this book, four mice called High Mouse, Side Mouse, Front Mouse and Back Mouse, live in different parts of a barn. They discover what a cow, a donkey and a pig look like from their different perspectives.

One day, they hear a new sound, a ‘Meow,’ and run to hide. To cover their discomfiture, they begin to talk about the animals they’ve seen that do not frighten them, and draw pictures of them on the wall with their tails. As they see each other’s drawings, which differ markedly, they begin to argue ferociously, each insisting he is right. 

The ‘Meow’ comes again. The animal making it, a cat, is standing on a box outside the window, looking in.

All the mice see a front view of the cat, and Front Mouse feels he has been vindicated, until the cat turns sideways, proving that Side Mouse has also been right. After that, the cat turns its back on them, and Back Mouse’s view is corroborated. High Mouse fears that his opinion will not be justified, but the cat jumps to the ground and the mice are able to view it from above.

 Just as High Mouse is about to comment, the cat rolls over on its back, showing yet another ‘side’ of itself, and the mice laugh and laugh, for, as the last page tells the reader, ‘ . . . that was how they all found out that one thing can look many different ways - as many different ways as there are ways to look at it.’

I’ve loved this book for many years and used to read it to my children at home and to my classes in school.

 If only politics could be so simple!

 

A mile is a mile, right?

 

A mile is a mile, right?

Speedometer showing kph and mph, and odometer showing current journey mileage and lifetime mileage 
Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

 A Scandinavian mile or mil, excluding Denmark, is equivalent to ten kilometres or six point two miles.

The mile, formerly known as the English mile, is now called ‘the international mile,’ and is not seen on signposts in Scandinavia, the kilometre being the standard for published distances. This is to avoid any confusion, because in informal speech, ‘mil’ is still used. Five kilometres is referred to as ‘half a mil.’

‘Mil’ is also used when business travel is calculated for tax reasons, and for publishing odometer readings when second-hand cars are being advertised for sale, even though car odometers show kilometres.

If, while walking in the mountains, you should come across a signpost in Norway or Sweden, showing a distance in ‘mil,’ be prepared for a much longer trek than you might have anticipated. Five mil will equate to fifty kilometres or thirty-one (international) miles.

Olives

 

Olives

                                        Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

Al was unhappy, cold, and miserable. How had he ended up on this pillar without a stitch of clothing, and why was he holding a gigantic wing?

The last thing he could recall was the olive eating challenge. He had just swallowed his fifty-first olive and was definitely on a winning streak. There were only thirty-five seconds left before the bell would ring to signal that time was up. He didn’t know what the prize would be, but was sure it would be something he would like. He hoped so, anyway, as he didn’t really like olives very much, but his friends had encouraged him to take part.

He was swallowing the sixtieth olive when he began to feel rather peculiar. Too late, he realised that the olives were preserved in alcohol, not brine. Combined with the several drinks he’d imbibed for Dutch courage before the contest, they had served as a sedative. He dimly remembered collapsing slowly to the floor – as with all accidents, time seemed to slow - and hearing raucous laughter and bellowed shouts of encouragement.

He chewed his fist and stared glumly at the ground. He wasn’t very high up and it would not be difficult to climb down, but modesty dictated that he remain where he was until the giggling crowd pointing at him went away.

Suddenly, a young woman pushed her way through the crowd and strode towards him. With horror, he recognised his fiancée. She was furious.

‘I knew this would happen if you let Dan organise your stag party. Some best man he is,’ she fumed. ‘I hope it was worth it. Here’s your prize,’ and she handed him an outsized jar of olives. ‘We’re getting married this afternoon, or had you forgotten? Don’t be late.’

As she turned and stormed off, Dan stepped sheepishly from behind some trees and handed Al his clothes. ‘Sorry, mate,’ he mumbled.

The crowd cheered and clapped as Al pulled on his crumpled clothes and clambered down from the pillar, swearing to himself that he would never enter another competition. He tucked the wing under his arm, wondering what use it could ever be to him. Maybe, in years to come, he and his wife would laugh about this foolish incident.

Maybe . . .

Ten years

 

Ten years

It is ten years since our last Dalmatian died. Frodo the Faller was fourteen years old, quite a good age, considering all the ailments he suffered. He was preceded by Buddy Liver Spots, Dominie, and Cariadd, all of whom lived long active lives.

Barry had run with them for years through fine weather and foul, but his knees were increasingly painful. Once his new chrome alloy knee joints were in place, he didn’t want to wear them out, so running, a life-long pursuit, was replaced by other activities, and another Dalmatian was out of the question. Thirty years of Dalmatians had been great fun, but we recognised our new limitations and anyway, Labradors are so much easier.

The only Dalmatians we now have are ornaments, and some Disney-type iterations. I think they were toppers from large tubes of Smarties. I always loved Smarties, and they’re so useful for number work and simple music theory with young children.

Origins

 

Origins

I have little idea of the origins of some of the plants in our garden. For example, we have masses of violets and I’m quite sure I’ve never introduced them. Certainly, I have transplanted some over the years and I’m always delighted to see them. They self-seed so they’re popping up all over the place now, which pleases me no end.

I had noticed some green leaves in a flowerpot, but didn’t pay them much attention until I realised they were producing flower buds. This provoked me into closer inspection. 

Using my iPhone app, ‘PictureThis,’ I discovered that the stranger was green alkanet (Pentaglottis sempervirens) a perennial which can sometimes become a nuisance, though it does provide good ground cover.  

The flowers are blue with white centres and are sometimes confused with forget-me-nots, though the plant stems are covered in bristly hairs and the leaves are also hairy, unlike forget-me-nots.

Green alkanet is a rich provider of pollen and nectar for bees, butterflies and hoverflies, flowering throughout the summer. Its leaves give food for the day-flying Scarlet tiger moth (Callimorpha dominula) and shelter for invertebrates at soil level.

                        Scarlet tiger moth (Callimorpha dominula)

Scarlet tiger moth images courtesy Wikimedia Commons

It used to be considered edible, although it did not taste very pleasant. Its pretty flowers were used as garnish for many dishes. However, latterly it has been discovered to contain carcinogens. In addition, the bristles can cause skin rashes, so it’s advisable to wear gloves when handling it.

Green alkanet is not native to Britain and has its origins in Spain, France, and Portugal. It was first brought to Britain around 1700, as an ornamental garden plant and was available for sale in plant nurseries. Inevitably, by 1724 it had escaped and quickly established itself in grass verges and hedgerows. It is common in southern England.