Monday 1 August

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A new month, but there is a sense of endlessness about this weather. Every day seems to dawn the same. Or at least, today seems to dawn cooler and greyer and the garden breathes a sigh of relief. False hope, because by noon it is as scorching as ever.

Tuesday 2 August

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Coffee and brunch at The Lost Kitchen, just over the border into Devon. Conversation ranges widely, from the usual gardeners’ gossip to creativity returning after the covid years. From the cultural impact of the Bloomsbury set (is it just me or has anyone who is anyone been at Charleston recently?) to inspiration through connection, touching (rather unexpectedly) on the legalisation of drugs. The afternoon of turning compost seems rather pedestrian after that.

Wednesday 3 August

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Too late for June drop, but too early for windfalls, the path is scattered with apples. The espaliers along the spine of the garden, although old and well established, are looking after themselves by cutting loose excess fruit. They are split open by wasps and baked in the sun, giving off a scent of cider and sweet apple puddings.

Thursday 4 August

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There is a wasps’ nest in a hole in the orchard next to the long oak table. The hedge germander, after a slow start, is now absolutely filled with every sort of bee. Walking down the kitchen garden path to the back door feels something like running a gauntlet. I have so far escaped unscathed, but Morag has been stung twice on her very fine nose and Hugo sulked for a full two hours with his tail between his legs when he was got on his tummy. I fear I may have to resort to a fake wasps’ nest and some peppermint oil in order to get some peace for the remainder of the summer. The irony of simultaneously googling how to attract more ladybirds (the plum tree is smothered in mealy aphids) and also getting rid of wasps is not lost on me. I don’t think selective curation is meant to be the point to biodiversity.

Saturday 6 August

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We got married in the orchard five years ago today. A marquee roof was strung up over the fruit trees, so the native hedges and the apple espaliers formed green walls. Long tables were threaded between the cherries and the quince, and we lit the wood oven for late night pizza for all. Morag came with us down the aisle.

We celebrate the five years with another supper from the oven. Poor man’s melanzane alla parmigiana of courgettes baked in tomato with slices of mozzarella (because Somerset is more suited to growing courgettes than aubergines), and a tray of peppers and fennel with bunches of thyme. We play dice until the candles burn down. I win.

Sunday 7 August

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A day in the shade of the studio. It is well insulated, and the floor is tiled which makes it blissfully cool. I print and pack hardy annuals for autumn sowing. Autumn feels a long way off right now, but a few moments in late August with compost and some hardy annual seed will pay dividends in spring in terms of bigger, stronger plants and early, glorious flowers. If you fancy ten gorgeous envelopes of the best flower seed for £10, just head over the Gather members' shop and click to order.