This is what I just
had for lunch.
French toast with
blueberry sauce and strawberries fresh picked from the garden. YUM! The raised
bed Cec kindly built for me last year and into which I transplanted the strawberries in January is bearing an extraordinary amount of fruit. I can barely keep up. (I say “barely”
because, really, there is no limit on the number of strawberries one can
consume in a day, is there?)
Here is today’s haul.
Yes, that is a
combination of strawberries and raspberries.
The good news is that
shifting the raspberry plants into better soil in an area with more sunlight
has also worked a treat.
The bad news is that
it really is far too early in the summer to have this many raspberries. We’ve
had one rainy day since the beginning of May (and it was more of a sprinkly
day) and all signs are that it’s going to be another long hot summer.
Fantastic! say the beach bunnies. Not so much, says everyone who realises this
in not the way it’s supposed to be.
May is supposed to be nice and June is supposed to be wet. That’s how we manage
to grow fruit and vegetables in our gardens without running our wells dry.
It’s only just the
first official day of summer (so why is it known as midsummer?) and already
islanders are wondering how much they dare water their gardens. (If any of them
are still watering their bloody lawns they deserve to have their wells run
dry.) Not good.
Oh, yikes. Speaking of
midsummer, I need to get ready for this afternoon’s rehearsal.
As I said on Facebook
yesterday, me in a Shakespeare play? I really didn’t see that coming.
Happy Solstice, all.
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