I had a busy morning. David and I moved the ‘Twist and Twirl’, the hydrangea I planted last spring. The white Japanese Anemone had almost smothered it so we moved it into an open spot I cleared with my swoe months ago. Seth had proposed to plant a Ligularia in the spot, but I am not so sure Ligularia would thrive there. I know the Hydrangea will as long as I keep it watered until it takes root.
I finished my slides for Canterbury, Tunbridge Wells, and Rye this morning. Found a couple of them with shots of David and me. We took most of the human photos with the small camera, and I used the slide camera for architecture and gardens. Below, we are at a tavern in Rye where I celebrated my 50th birthday.
After we ate, we walked the streets of Rye looking for Henry James house. Once upon a time, I loved making pilgrimages to the homes of famous authors. At some time, I was enamoured with Henry James and Edith Wharton, both American ex-patriots, fled to Europe, who wrote about wealthy New Yorkers in the nineteenth century. James mostly wrote about these wealthy Americans in Europe in the The Ambassadors, Daisy Miller, Wings of the Dove; Wharton wrote about them in New York (Age of Innocence).
Below, James home in Rye:
We must have enjoyed Rye because we traveled there more than once, by train and by car. Below are photos from one trip or the other. Can you find the cat?