Autumn drenching
Winter wet, summer dry. Winter wet, summer dry. No matter how often you chant this little ditty, it always amazes me how much rain can fall out of the sky in autumn.
The sun has come out at last. But boy, have we had a drenching.
Inches and inches of the stuff. Daily visits to the rain gauge to stop it flowing over and then promptly forgetting how much fell overnight.
An inch a day for a week? I wish I could embrace the millimetre as a measurement. It just doesn’t have the same oomph when you announce to neighbours that we had 26mm a day for days and days.
The ground is soaking it up nicely.
Naturally in between showers you have to find jobs that will satisfy but not involve laborious drying of work trousers in front of the fire. I’ve already tidied my office, labelled my jams, sorted by sock drawer, almost done my income tax return…
Branch collecting. Getting ahead with the kindling pile for our winter fuel. And tidying the entrance to our farm.
Our lovely friend Fenning brought down two dead cherries on his hols last month. And I have finally cleared away the fiddly bits that were piled neatly beside the road.
And I built a little stone cairn on top of the dead cherry stump. As an aide visuel for the snow plough driver when he comes up the track this winter. I don’t want him barking his blade by the side of the road and conking out before he has ploughed to the door.
Snow? Winter? We are far from that now – despite the clocks changing this weekend. The weather is still mild. And I have more projects to do in the garden before there is any snow covering the mess.
So many bald bits of lawn to attend to. Anon, anon.
Marg Duncan
26th October 2019 @ 9:42 pm
Ohh. Lindy. Are we living on the same planet? Never since weather was recorded, have we had dry patterns like this. Armidale and Guyra have less than a year of water unless we get substantial rain. We are only permitted 2-3 minute showers and can only use grey water collected from the showers and washing machine to try to keep a few favourite plants alive. Lots of people are no longer showering daily, leave their sheets on the bed for longer between washes and restrict washing machine use and washing up.
I wish you could send some of your rain to us.
You sound so organised, Lindy.
Lindy
29th October 2019 @ 10:06 am
I do so feel for you Marg. Drought is heart breaking. And if you have followed this blog you might know that France hasn’t escaped Climate Chaos either. We have had years and years of drought here in the Ardeche. I’ve lost count of the number of trees that have died. Shattering for farmers and for gardeners. The one thing I have discovered is you need to be part of a community to survive. And we all have to adapt. Easier done on an isolated farm where we collect our water in an underground spring, and store it (12 cubic metre tank). And as our water is our own most of the year, we know how precious it is. And thank goodness I discovered The Dry Gardening Handbook by the amazing couple here in France Olivier and Clara Filippi. Their book in English has just been re-released. I learned more about their sort of gardening, and changing over to permaculture vegetable growing (watch this space!) and it makes a difference. But it’s never easy. Sending you all my love. xxx
Marg Duncan
29th October 2019 @ 10:22 am
Thanks for that very special reply, Lindy.
I will see a very different landscape when I travel to Warrnambool in a couple of weeks, to go and help Rob and Liz. They have had plenty of rain and all is lush and green.
You put so much thought and research into your amazing farm and garden. I enjoy your posts very much, even though don’t always reply.
Thanks for your love. Please accept mine to you as well. .
Lindy
29th October 2019 @ 10:23 am
Enjoy that green! I have a lush picture of my first terrace and your mulberry tree as my desktop photo right now. Just to remind myself what chlorophyll looks like!!!
Marg Duncan
29th October 2019 @ 10:29 am
I love that mulberry tree of yours with all its different seasonal variations.