Rain

At last, the weather has cooled down a bit, and we’re getting some rain water in the butts.  Too late for some of our plants: the usually resilient rudbeckias have returned in smaller numbers, and one of the daphne odoras has turned its toes up.  To be fair, it had probably reached the normal 7-8 year life expectancy of the variety, and it had certainly outgrown its place in the garden.  I can still see a few green shoots, so when I can muster the motivation I’ll cut them off and stick them in some compost.  A perennial rudbeckia is doing very well now that it has got its roots down into the clay.  It was an unintended present from former art teacher Pat aka Miss, who had labelled it ‘aubergine’.  I suspect her spirited grandchildren had been having fun swapping labels, but perhaps I do them an injustice!

The indoor tomatoes are now cropped and the plants disposed of (the fruit are ripening on the window ledge) but the outdoor lot are still going strong, despite having had to be watered with the revolting local tap water for a week or so at the height of the heatwave.  We are eating a lot ourselves, either in a ragout to have with pasta, our interpretation of bruschette, pizzas or the occasional salad with prosciutto and mozzarella.  But we’re also giving a lot away to selected neighbours, and I even sent a bag away yesterday with the friendly chap who came to clean the upholstery.

A propos heat, it was my turn to propose a text to read out and discuss in today’s old geezers’ German conversation group.  I found a couple of articles in Swiss on-line media about the heatwave, its causes and effects.  One piece was from the rather downmarket Blick, the other from Swissinfo.  The different styles of writing stood out: the former was pretty folksy though quite well researched, the latter altogether more erudite.  I had another piece about the princely house of Liechtenstein up my sleeve, but we didn’t need it: the heatwave stuff gave us enough to discuss.  (But when you get a chance, take a look at Wikipedia’s take on Prince Hans-Adam II.  Not a monarch I’d put on my Christmas card list.)

Martyn is very slowly getting better, but still has quite a way to go.  He had a first session of acupuncture on Saturday, and will continue with that.  The treatment happens at a private house on the edge of town, opposite a field where there was a pick-your-own flowers sign at the gate.  I wandered in to have a look, and came out with half a dozen stems of echinacea, which now adorn the window ledge, together with some flowering sprigs of mint and a few of our rudbeckias.  I sowed echinacea this year, but once again they have sulked.  Very friendly people at the PYO place: I think I met three generations, the older of which have a slight Germanic accent, with some transatlantic notes.  Maybe I’ll pop back next Saturday if I drive Martyn to his appointment, and unleash my nosiness.