We went through these gates and found ourselves in a delightful planted garden. Given the day was getting warmer and warmer, it was quite a relief to be wandering shaded paths as we admired the semi-formal arrangements.
An open (well, unlocked) invitation – let’s go!
As mentioned last week, I don’t have much gardening knowledge, but this didn’t prevent my appreciation of the colours on display. Mrs. PC is better versed in plant stuff (that’s a technical term) and confirmed these were hollyhocks:
Hollyhocks (photo and ID by Mrs. PC)
Some of the areas were a bit overdone for my tastes, and other spots were just right. This, to my mind, is just right:
Probably because it appeals to my lethargic side…
Some of the wider vistas reminded me of the gardens of stately homes I was dragged around as a cheerful child back in the UK. You’ve probably seen a few serving as picturesque backdrops to televised British costume dramas. There is always a line going “Mr. and Mrs. Whittenstall-Ponsonby-Wealthy-Slave-Trader-Landed-Gentry-Hyphenated-Jones kindly request the company of…” and then you fall asleep.
“…request the pleasure of your company for our summer ball. Please wear an uncomfortable frock and a powdered wig. The ladies too…”
I particularly enjoyed the small stream running through the gardens, and was very tempted to dip a toe in the water. Mrs. PC stopped me just in time, and took this one as a reminder I really should listen:
PC disrobing and ready for a dip. Agreed, I do look good for my age, but it isn’t my garden.
Must have been temporarily disoriented by the heat, but with cooler heads prevailing, we repaired to a shady bench and enjoyed a picnic lunch.
Shady
As you might have gathered, I’m not one to make regular visits to stately homes or formal grand gardens, at least no more than once or twice in a decade, but my lack of seriousness aside, I did enjoy these gardens. I can very much appreciate the skill, effort and passion necessary to produce such a lovely setting. Our new backyard requires a little landscaping, and now we’ve so many ideas. I think Mrs. PC is open to a tasteful statue or two or three…
I’ll finish by saying thanks for reading, I hope you have a wonderful weekend, and sign off with a few more photographs below!
Almost every image included this week will be tinged with lavender. I’ve thrown in a misty-eyed recollection from around the time when Mrs. PC and I first began to be serious about each other. (I remain serious on this point, and I think Mrs. PC might be as well, although that’s for her to say…)
Lavender
So, it’s on with the rose tinted, oops, I mean lavender tinted spectacles, and away we go all the way to the Île d’Orleans, a little gem found just outside Quebec City on the St. Laurence River.
I don’t know too much about plants, but one I recognize and really like is lavender (and yet some dare to say I’d be no good as a gardener?) for the look and the fragrance. If you read last week’s post – brave of you and much appreciated – you’ll be relieved that everything is far more pleasant smelling this week.
I’m not an expert, but, lavender?
We parked in fast receding shade at La Seigneurie de L’Ile d’Orleans, a lavender farm located on the northeastern tip of the island. After we paid a small entrance fee, Mrs. PC pulled me away from my conversation with the ticket vendor (all I was asking was if they had plants in any other colours, which earned me withering looks – I wilted) and we set off up a slight incline to find the lavender field.
Beats me…
The morning was very warm, with a slight breeze providing some respite and transporting the unmistakable scent of lavender. Wonderful! We crested the rise and before us lay hundreds – thousands? – of lavender plants, row upon row.
What an amazing sight! We wandered up and down the rows, so happy to be immersed in such a colourful scene. It made me feel almost like a child, and if I’d been younger, I might have actually run up and down the rows, cackling and cavorting to express my joy. But I didn’t – how many stern looks can an oversized toddler handle in one morning?
Cavorting? Here? I should think not!
No cackling then, but plenty of droning – the steady buzz of hundreds of bees floating from plant to plant. The sleepy buzz-drone of bees is summer in one sound, and without wanting to be waspish about other insects, so pleasant compared to, oh, I don’t know, wasps? (Any wasps reading this, yes I know you’ll be seeing me soon enough, likely late August, probably in a beer garden – I’ll set aside a small saucer of beer if you promise to be nice…)
Sticking my neck out – lavender?
I was going to leave it there, but goodness, how could I almost forget to relate the tale of young love, from a time when two young yet-to-be OldPlaidCampers were first dating? It’s probably why you’re still reading this, isn’t it? Honestly, stop now, particularly if you like music. I stand by the musical choices shared below, but to many, they may possibly represent crimes against culture.
One of the big album releases of that long ago summer was Misplaced Childhood by Marillion. I liked Marillion, but not many did until Misplaced Childhood was released. Then, for a little while, it was less mortifying to like them, probably because a few of the tunes seemed to strike a national chord. One was the saccharine and sentimental Lavender, and if you’ve clicked the link or know the song, you’ll know what I mean.
What lies beyond the gates?
Anyway, Mrs. PC borrowed the album from me and pretended to like it, and I borrowed Bowie’s Let’s Dance from her and pretended to like that. On such wobbly foundations one of the greatest love stories of our ti… oh, never mind all that, we started dating. And here we are a few short years later, still dating. Why, we went to a lavender farm together just the other day…
“A penny for your thoughts, my dear?” Okay, definitely time to wind this one up. I will mention, it took me forever to think up a title this week. I think it’s accurate? Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
Cleaning up or coming clean – this one might be a bit of a confession. Where to start?
Love this place – could easily stay here
We were wandering around in a very humid forest the other day, one of those grey days where you can feel the cloud cover just above your head providing a roof or ceiling for the mosquitoes – they were happily buzzing and humming around my ears, oblivious to the high strength bug spray applied earlier. They seemed almost disappointed. Haven’t you got anything a little stronger, sir?
Into the woods, bugs and all!
As we walked, sweaty shirt clinging to and emphasizing my (admittedly very attractive) mid years physique, it occurred to me I was running low on clean clothing, and eau de repellent wasn’t making things any better. Being away from home comforts like a washing machine, you soon realize how they’re taken for granted.
“Yeah, you’re great and all, but if you could drop the leash, I might just run on ahead? I can find you – I’ll follow my nose…”
I don’t mind my reputation going before me, but when monuments, museums and public buildings are closing up as I approach, even I can take a hint. We (I) needed to find a laundromat. Mrs PC, fragrant as ever – and better at packing the essentials in sensible quantities – pointed out where the campground laundromat was, and all was well, at least for a few days.
“Where are you all going? Is it something I said, or something else?”
Yes, inevitably, what with the weather and my much vaunted “packing light” skills, it was back to the laundromat once more. Hmm, not fun, but at least I wasn’t being refused entry at historic sites, and Scout and Mrs. PC had stopped pretending to not know me.
“Empty benches? Why is that? Unusual…”
This issue needed to be cleared up, or even cleaned up, and we managed to do just that. We purchased our very own washing machine. In fact, we went crazy and threw in a dryer. At those prices (eye watering, but not as eye watering as my special fragrance) it seemed like a good plan. Even better, the new appliances had a home attached! Huh? A home? That’s right, we’ve moved, and we’re now happy, fragrant, and almost settled residents of Quebec City.
“You’ve done your laundry? I like you again! Is that cheese?”
I know, I know, this entire post stinks. All that preamble just to say we’ve relocated for the next little while… For how long? Who knows? Until the beer and cheese runs out? Mmm, cheese, especially those blues ones, with that very special aroma…
Shout it from (and across) the roof tops – we like this city!
I think the new washing machine is beeping at me, so we’ll leave it here for now, all fresh and ready for whatever comes next. Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
OldPlaidCamper 