Fordwatch

As the drought staggers into its unprecedented third week, only one question is on everyone’s (parched) lips: when will the ford dry up?* On Sunday, returning from a weekend away, our first thought was to dash (oh, okay, stroll) down to the ford to see if it had dried up, but were disappointed:

Today, I noticed that, apart from the permapuddle outside our gate, the road all the way down to the papershop was completely dry, even where there is usually water seeping its way out of the tarmac. As for the rest of the counntryside, while it’s not exactly drying out yet, it could be described as ‘setting’. So this afternoon – with four days of rain forecast from tomorrow – we went down to check again:

I have a nasty feeling this will be the lowest we will see the ford all year.

There’s no reason for including this photo but the sight of a duck asleep in a tree amused me

*Actually, this is a lie, the question on everyone’s lips is ‘is this going to be our summer?’

Whatever the Weather…

For the last few days, wherever gardeners have been gathered together (and it seems everyone’s a gardener in these parts), the talk has been of when it is going to rain. We have not had rain now for an unprecedented 11 days and things are beginning to look a little parched. Last night, I even dreamt it was raining and as I stood in the doorway preparing to go out in it, my dream self thought ‘well, at least it’s doing the garden good’, although I hasten to add that my waking self was still pleased to wake up to another day of bright and glorious sunshine.

Anyway, the word in the pub last night – and who am I to doubt them, for they proved better at warning me of a near frost that the Met Office did – is that it will rain tomorrow. And the day after, and the day after that. That’s the problem with the rain, you see, once it starts up here, it’s like a child with an immensely unfunny poo joke and it just doesn’t know how to stop. So I shan’t be rejoicing, I promise. And whatever anyone else may be doing, I am STILL not, repeat not, praying for rain.

I hope that’s clear, W****** G***