The softness of summer rain
Monday 19 July
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Too hot to do anything, even in the shade. I try with a bit of hoeing but even that is too much and I lie in the hammock and dream about ice cubes. When that gets too much too, I come indoors and thank my lucky stars for thick stone walls.
Tuesday 20 July
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A parish council meeting. If you want to know anything about your community, I strongly advise attending one. My eyes were on stalks. The who’s who. The what’s what. The history, the culture, the warp and the weft of human habitations. In amongst the apparent minutiae of village democratic decision-making, there is absolute gold. I can’t share obviously, but your own village, town or city will have its own equivalent. For the record, I said no to communal electric vehicle charging points, yes to a state of the art dishwasher for the village hall, and abstained on the speed reduction device pending outcome measure on their efficacy.
You can imagine how popular I was amongst the patriarchy.
Wednesday 21 July
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As of the newsletter a few weeks ago, I now have field help. Naomi of Collate comes to help. A tricky start given that, even with unsociably early start, we are absolutely sweating cobs by 10am. But we work swiftly and well, and we achieve a huge amount of clearing in only a few hours. Our progress was quick because we aren’t actually weeding. The plants that we are pulling out are plants in the wrong place. Either relics of old planting schemes (I still cannot bring myself to pull out the peonies), or self-sowns that have gone absolutely wild. There is bronze fennel everywhere, erigeron annus above my head wherever I look, and more echinops than a Piet Oudolf pastiche. No more. A blank slate.
Thursday 22 July
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The heat feels like it is building to a crescendo. Flowers are coming thick and fast. Dahlias everywhere I look. And then suddenly, the hedgerow along the track pops into white frothing life. The wild clematis has arrived. Mr L, who missed the parish council meeting for hay making, goes up and down the road with long trailers all day and seemingly all night.
Friday 23 July
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A day waiting for rain and visiting Matt Austin in his studio in Axminister. Bliss. All the pleasure of a pro photographer (and the pictures are glorious) and none of the panic of tidying up in advance.
He shoots the Rag of Colts furoshiki bag straps. The majority of these are reserved for Gather members but I have had so many dm’s, emails and requests for these, I have put a few up on my general home page here. Between the ones that have been snapped up today and the ones I keep squirreling away for myself, I really should put a re-order in.
In the evening, with the mugginess swelling, I cut everything I can get to. Dahlias, sunflowers, the last larkspur, a raspberry scabious. Phlox. Sweet peas. Everything that will be damaged by the storm. Buckets lined up in the boot room, already shedding petals.
Saturday 24 July
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Rain. Not as much as I was hoping for but enough to declare it a day off from path clearing and a day on with the camera. The light is perfect. Soft. Muted. A blessed relief from the squintingly hard blue skies of the last week.