The horrible dry north-easterly is blowing, has been blowing, will continue to blow, and apart from an untimely shower on Sunday we haven’t had a drop. Oh for a mild moist westerly!
Under a thick overcast the wallflowers continue to bloom as they have since March, unwatered in the stony parched soil, the rich colours relieving the gloom. I’ve already sowed seed to get next year’s started. What would I do without them? Meantime, the herbaceous clumps which will replace the wallflowers, when they do finish, are waiting in the wings.
The roses are suffering but still trying, aided by a few watering-cans-worth here and there. Hoping to support their struggles, I barrowed around lots of black lumpy material from the compost bin. The stench was outstanding, though of course compost shouldn’t stink. Mystery explained when a big glop of green gel oozed from the spade, gaggingly odorous. One of us must have thrown some over-date eggs into the compost bin, and somehow they never broke, even while two years worth of organic waste was mashed down on top of them.
Century egg, anyone?