End of summer

At the end of every month I try my best to file away my photos. And some just seem to be dangling about, too disparate to make into a story. But sort of interesting nonetheless.

Take this tryptic of Artur. David shot these late one afternoon when the poor cat was trying to find a bit of shade.  The endless heatwave has been a curse for the fur coated ones.

And what to do about the endless shots of flowers?

It has been a bumper season for dahlias and sunflowers. I’m doing about eight bouquets a week for friends; and our house is groaning with colour.


In the kitchen I have been dealing with similar gluts.  Courgettes and aubergines. And this mad squash. I won’t be sowing this again. A watery whopper.


Those of you who go to French markets will know that the tray of fruit is always a temptation.  But it’s definitely a matter of glut management when you get home and ask: what on earth do with these?

Apart from standing over the sink and wolfing down the lot. You have to bake.

And with boiling hot weather, it always feels mad to be going anywhere near the oven.  But we are coming to the end of the chocolate and pear cakes. Only now.


Right; end of round up. The weather has finally turned back to gorgeous and bearable. We had a storm that yielded a measly 5mm of rain, but at least it’s easy to be out all day. And on that note….