Overcast, a little drizzling rain, but fairly warm. Finished digging the patch next the tomatoes. Lifted the first row of Red King as the whole of that patch needs liming & it is simpler to lift the potatoes at once. They are poor but a little better than the K. Edwards, & only one or two rotten ones among them. Am going to scrap the tomatoes as they will come to nothing. Arranged to sell off all the fowls, as it is evident we shall only be able to come down here at weekends & it is impossible to continue with any livestock. Shall probably make Mr N.[1] a present of the goats.
8 eggs.
[1] Perhaps Mr. Nicholls, the owner of the ‘broken-down old wreck’ of a male goat referred to by Orwell in a letter to Jack Common; see 29.5.39. Peter Davison
Orwell Diaries 1938-1942 
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No more egg counts or sales, no more care and maintenance of livestock. Another new direction for the diary.
Tomatoes were a complete waste of time this year in these parts. But now I don’t feel so lonely about it!
I felt sadness in this post.
Oh, no. No more eggs and goats! What will he write about now?
I was stunned to speechlessness. I guess this was his summer place, and now it’s back to the city? I am sure he’ll find plenty of interesting things to poke at and look under, but I’ll miss the chickens and goats. Marx, I trust, will make the move with them….
Can’t understand why he has suddenly decided to abandon the chickens and the goats after all the trouble he has gone to to build the henhouse etc. Why bother logging feed and egg production if this was only going to be a short term enterprise?
@Jane
Seems like he has more commitments in town, for instance a new job?
@Jane: it’s almost as if some major external event had intervened to change the circumstances and pattern of Orwell’s life. Trying to think of what that might be… ;-)
He moved back to London because the war had started. He refused to hide in the country, and stayed throughout most of the Blitz.
All the letters are clear about his motives.