Not really here
Summer is such a disjointed affair, don’t you think? As someone genetically programmed to prefer sweaters, cord skirts and the faint brush of a chill against the fingers, I find it a very hard season (SAD, but the other way around to usual), as the heat makes my brain futzy and slow. I blame it on having been born during one of the hottest summers on record. I’m just generally able to function better when the temperature drops back down to around 20 degrees C.
It’s not that I hate summer at all: fresh, soft fruits, tomatoes, peas, etc, the light mornings are a joy, the allotment bursting with wildlife, reading in the hammock. I just find it difficult. Over the years, I have found ways of leaning into summer, running towards it with arms stretched out in welcome.
Early morning swims in the local salt water lido (salt water! despite being inland!). At 6.30am, there are only a few people there, everyone quiet and caught up in the sleepy contemplation of the sky and trees above us. There is little chat. The water is cool, not cold, a silky wash over our skin as we move back and forth through the blue.
The aforementioned hammock. Half an hour in there and I’m drifting through the rest of the day in a blissed out haze. I read, stare at the garden, talk to the cats, and never ever look at my phone.
All the harvest: peaches, nectarines, berries galore. Sun-warm tomatoes. Fresh sweet peas. Beans growing faster than I can pick them. Courgettes that spring from just right to monstrous overnight. Whole meals that ask for nothing more than a quick wash, a dab of goats cheese and a scattering of mint. Desserts that ask for a drizzle of honey, a splodge of greek yogurt and a spoon. Some foods - the peas, the raspberries (my absolutee favourites) - barely even make it home but keep me snacking at the allotment.
In this month of slow heavy heat, it’s worth noting that needlefelting is a slow art to start with and, since I gave myself tennis elbow in my dominant elbow, it’s been glacial as I can only do little bits of a thing before needing to rest it again. Little Bede is finally finished though, and on time. I shall post some pictures of him very soon and then move onto my next piece, inspired by the Spindly Worm of Laidlestoneheugh.
In July, we visited the Museum of the History of Science in Oxford which, despite it’s tortuous title, is actually a brilliant little museum, full of astrolabes, compasses and a whole galaxy of beautifully crafted means to discover more about the world. I feel that, had the compasses and calculators and so on been this beautiful at school, I might have taken my life in another direction. Who wouldn’t want to be an astronomer when the night skies are depicted full of bears
In August, I’m away a lot with my day job, and the allotment is in full flow (what little I managed to save from the tide of slugs), but there will be more Laidley research, a finishing of Bede and some ideas for the shop. I hope you have a good summer, wherever you are reading from. May there be dragons in it somewhere.
