Vegetable- and fruit-growing
No disasters, plenty of disappointment.
Our beloved Keswick Codlin has set a very poor crop of apples – my first thought was bee-less-ness, but I’m sure my husband is right to blame frost. Although the vegetables, a few yards away, are fine, except for four or five decapitated beans. The weather forecast last night, after we got back, mentioned the possibility of frost in highland glens. For a planet in the grip of global warming, it’s rather late in the month.
Some caterpillar has stripped the gooseberries. I love gooseberries, and am useless at growing them. American Gooseberry Mould is the usual enemy. I am also absolutely useless at spring onions, which are meant to be as easy as radishes. They will not grow for me.
Almost everything else is getting on rather nicely. I tasted some orach as I was thinning it, and was pleasantly surprised. Most “unusual” vegetables are somewhat bitter. Orach isn’t, it fact it’s rather interesting.
The greyish leaf behind the lettuce is an opium poppy. They alight on cultivated land as unbidden and as enthusiastic as pussy cats seeking a lavatory. I have pulled up dozens, but I always leave a few because they are so beautiful.
Sorrel is doing splendidly, and I am ready to venture on a sauce. I wondered whether to bring some back here, but the weekend promises to be mildly fraught, so I decided in favour of taking north next time whatever is to be coated with the sauce.
I’m within four or five rounds of finishing the ribbing of the Araucania rugby shirt. I probably said that last time.
Here in Edinburgh, I discovered last night that I had ribbed too far on the front of the dinosaur sweater, on too many stitches. I had cast on the number I was supposed to have after the post-ribbing increase row. This is typical of the slapdash way I have approached this entire project. I ripped it out and started again, and am now starting the pattern band underneath the first set of dinosaurs.
Today's knitting will be severly curtailed by the need to put in an appearance at the annual Dr*mmond Pl*ce Garden Party, unless the Good Lord gets me off with rain again this year.
The need for the swallowtail coat of a beautiful blue has been postponed from early October to a vague Somewhat Later. Maybe I’ll slip in a month of Princess-knitting when these blasted lizards are finished.