Monday 20 September 2021
It was always a known fact that when I was a child when we went back to school in September that the weather would turn nice again and we enjoyed Indian Summers. Was this summers, like they had in India or something that the Red Indians enjoyed, I might never know .It has been glorious weather here for over 2 weeks now even though we were told heavy rain was on the way. I was out with the hose pipe last night and pots of flowers and herbs were reaching out for a drink. Again this morning bright blue skies, it might well be the middle of Summer as the temperature raises into the low 20s. Jack being the early bird says the dew on the grass is heavier now and there is that feel in the air that autumn is just waiting. Me, being the night owl noticed how much the nights are drawing in as I finished watering the pants the outside lights automatically came on. We have mushrooms and other fungi objects popping up in the woods.Strangely enough there is honeysuckle out and Jack saw some buttercups this morning. The bees are still busy bringing in th elast of the nectar from the Himalayan balsam. I read a post from our friends on the Netherlands they had been on a foraging course over the weekend and the seeds from the balsam are quite okay to eat, so I might give them a try. My onions will soon be ready for pulling up. Don't ask me the name of them but they look like those really strong ones. The red cabbage did not fare very well as they were attacked by the white butterfly and the leaves as pretty as they looked lke lace with lots of holes in them. Also they looked very bitter and old now so I have just been and put those int he wheel barrow. I fill the wheel barrow and Jack carts it away,we make a good team. I have some cyclamen to plant out and hopefully they will last for years . I must have had one for 30 years now and it seem to revive itself with little ado and spreads ever so slowly but it survives and that is the main thing. As we continue to have a full house of guests they report back the heather is finally fading. Turning brown, now leaving behind just memories of carpets of purple.