5.6.39.

Unbearably hot. Everything is drying up. A sweet william out. Ragged robin out.
Sowed peas (English wonder). Mulched tomatoes. French & runner beans have germinated very badly, so am sowing some in a box for fill-ups. New potatoes ready to be earthed up, a few of the maincrop showing.
5 eggs! (presumably something to do with the heat).
NB. That 1 /2 pint of peas sows one of our rows (about 12 yards) thickly.

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4 Responses to 5.6.39.

  1. Thorleif Schjelderup-Ebbe should be playing a more dominant role in this narrative; but then again, maybe he is—he’s the offspring of a sculptor and a sculptress, after all.
    :shock:
    “The cumulative effect(s) of this blog have become discernible to the naked eye,” he reported live from multiple parallel locales simultaneously. He had a different expression on his face in each parallel manifestation.
    ~~~~~
    Exhausted by the heat and dismayed by the shriveling of all things, the confused hens plead for guidance from their exalted [and politically shrewd] leader who then calls in M. as an “advisor.”

  2. Barnaby says:

    I wonder if English Wonder was superseded by Kevedon Wonder? The latter is still very popular in France under the name of Merveille de Kelvedon, and never fails to bring a lump to my throat as Kelvedon is just down the road from where I used to live, not far from Colchester.

  3. Steve says:

    Amazing to think that D-Day is only 5 years away, the invasion of Poland only about 3 months away. Enjoy that garden, GO/EB.

  4. Pingback: 14.6.39. « THE ORWELL PRIZE

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