If you were to be foolish enough to Google ‘Cats in art’ (and I really don’t recommend it) you would get ‘about 37,600,000 results’ – probably more by the time you read this: and a great many would look something like the image below (courtesy of Animal Advocates Alliance). Continue reading
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Categories
… and a very old man was he, according to the Cherry-Tree Carol, at any rate. William Henry Husk points out, in his note on the carol in
In
The botanic garden in Leiden is always associated with its hugely distinguished first director, Carolus Clusius, and sure enough, his bust is the first thing you see at the entrance. I wasn’t aware, however, until our recent visit, that other plant collectors and taxonomists also had a close relationship with the garden and the city.
It may be stretching a point to call a small fragment of a painting an ‘object’ – the more so as the small fragment depicts two apparently living animals who may or may not have actually been alive when they were painted. But I was so struck by these particular images that I thought they deserved a bit of further investigation: so here are the Golden Age Guinea Pigs!
There is no doubt that, for a very long period, the pineapple was THE evidence, across Europe, of your wealth, your taste, and your ability to choose a head gardener for your estates who could manage a stove-house. This exotic fruit from the tropical jungle was allegedly encountered by Christopher Columbus on the island of Guadeloupe, which he visited during his second voyage, between 4 and 10 November 1493 (though I haven’t yet found a contemporary account which confirms this?).
To add to the gaiety of the nation in these trying times, I have for some time now been tweeting (
When an unfortunate juxtaposition of my slippery sandal and the glass-like surface of a marble step in Venice had fairly uncomfortable consequences a couple of weeks ago, my second conscious thought (the first having been ‘I hope this wasn’t caught on CCTV’) was ‘Oh dear [a slight paraphrase], what about
I was picking stems of my Deutzia to bring indoors (an activity which presents a rather more domesticated and delightful image of the châtelaine of Château Hedgehog than the reality), when it occurred to me that although I have been enjoying the beautiful (though sadly unperfumed) spring blossom of this shrub for more than twenty years, I had no idea who Mr (Herr, Signor, Monsieur) Deutz was (though it was a safe bet that the eponym was a man).