August

For most of this month, it’s been around 75 degrees in Wales.

Well, all right, in our garden it’s been around 75 degrees.

Well, all right, in our polytunnel it’s been around 75 degrees.

Yes, the polytunnel, bravely erected by Jim and Joe, has taken on a life of its own. The tomato plants went in first, and immediately started to fruit up. The sweetcorn seedlings, which looked very sad in their pot, have shot up to twice their size. A row of radish seeds came up and leafed within 48 hours of sewing. On the other side of the tunnel, there are large areas of onion, leek and beetroot seedlings, bought as tiny seedlings and now already looking established.

And, in its own little pot, a lemon plant is just beginning to sprout from the pips Sue and I brought home from Italy; they’re Amalfi Lemons, massive and so sweet they are edible...the Italians love them sprinkled with olive oil and salt.

Truth is, the plants think they are in Italy...and when I enter the tunnel, it feels as if I am, too!

We’re hoping to use the tunnel to extend our growing season – planting summer foods early in spring and later for autumn/winter consumption – and for extending our growing range. We’re trying melon seeds (from a melon we first ate) for a start. We plan to use the suspended rails that run along the polytunnel to support the melons. Chilli peppers are also in, although they may not do well, planted now, even in the warmth.

We’re hoping to dedicate one smaller bed to strawberries, but there’s a dilemma; the gardening books recommend that you don’t plant straws in the warm until they’ve experienced some frost. We were planning to buy an outer of around 30 plants this autumn, but now we’re wondering if there is any point in buying early if we have to leave them outside...and if we do, should we transplant into soil or leave in their pots? Has anyone got any answers?

I was watching telly last night. Claire Balding was trying to overcome her fear of bats on Countryfile. I was watching the bats, when I thought...what am I doing? I went outside. There was a fantastic golden sunset in the east of our land; the sun would be going down over the Cardigan coast. The barley opposite our house has been cut now, but the stalks glowed like a field of gold leaf in the low sunlight. And there, dashing and flitting in and out of the trees across our field, were the bats! Two tiny pipistrelles, their wings flapping like hummingbirds, and swooping close enough for me to see the fur and their plump little bodies. I could hear an owl hoot in the distance, and the dogs had started their ‘starlight barking’ towards Rhydlewis. There was a tranquillity around me that made my heart feel at ease.

And, to put the gold hat on it, by the time I got back in, Claire Baldwin had disappeared for the evening.