welsh hills again

There was very little time for the garden today as I had a whole load of Spanish to do for my OU course and granddaughter visiting booked for this afternoon.  So I contented myself with a great deal of watering.  Watering isn't generally a problem here in North Wales but we have had a dry few days and there are lots of new things which have been planted and various things in pots waiting to go to my daughter in law's new garden.  The soil is so stony that it drains at great speed when the rain stops and until plants get their roots down they need a little help. So first of all I watered all the new perennials which went in last week and over the weekend: the foxgloves, hollyhocks, violas, and catmint.  Then I watered pots of hardy geranium and clematis for Lindsay.  Finally I moved to the little wooden lean to greenhouse: I can't take any credit at all for what is in here.  Ian has taken over responsibility for the growing of food.  He has sown ...

I expect heat in summer.  That is daft really.  I don't live in the South of France or Italy, I live in North Wales, but somehow an adolescence spent in New Zealand where the sky is reliably blue for months and the natural colour of everyone's skin is a light tan has left me with an expectation that in summer the sun will shine and I will eat breakfast outside and walk in bare feet and seek the shade.  The last few summers have been so wet and grey and cold as to be non existent.  I don't think I had realised quite how much the absence of sun had got to me until the temperature soared and the sun was hot on my skin and every morning I woke to sunshine and warm wind.  I find I have relaxed deep down inside myself.  The brightness of the light has made me smile.  Walking around with bare feet has made me feel young again although the green valley is bleaching with the sun. Our house is great when it is really hot.  The old stone walls create a ...