We continue to be concerned about the drought. At the moment it's droughting cats and dogs. For the last week it's been droughting down in buckets. And yesterday there were a couple of inches of standing drought on the drive.
I'm really concerned about this year's crops. Based on the Met Office and the water companies, and twenty years of Gardenia's World advising we prepare for climate change, this year we planted saguaro, prickly pear, date-palms and coconuts. Nothing's germinated.
Although I'm never quite sure about planting coconuts - do you "chit" them like new potatos, smash them up or just plant them as they are? Although it doesn't matter that much. The coconut bed is awash with rain.
Normally we use the "failed organic" technique - where you don't use synthetic pesticides till the last minute, then panic when you see the state the courgettes are in, and run around laying a mulch of slug pellets two inches deep. This year we didn't even think about slugs because of the drought - but just now a bunch of slugs have punted past on a coconut, on the way to the outdoor swimming pool. Or "Mediterranean gravel garden" as we called it a couple of weeks ago.
But we don't let all this hydrological woe get us down. Oh no. We've still been up this morning taking part in the "Blessing the Land with Rain" ceremony. We take a beaker of water and scatter the water ritually to the nine winds, in a way that is strictly symbolic and in no way intended to be sympathetic magic. This normally requires us to send somebody down to the brook for water, but the good news this morning is that we just scooped it up outside the Moot House, on the way to the Blessing Spot.
There's something a bit ironic in standing in the middle of a sodden field, with the drought coming down like stair rods, praying for rain. But still, it's good for the crops, so they say.
The trouble with the rain and pets is that they go out in it, without an umbrella and than come in and either shake the water off over you, or alternatively in the case of Cat's, jump on to your lap and anoint you with wet, smelly fur, by rubbing against you.
ReplyDeleteIf God has meant us to have pets, surely he would have given them the sense to nip into the bathroom and use the towels to dry off?
The other thing about pets, rain and the garden, is that the excavations they make, normally can be simply backfilled with the displaced earth. Now of course, the displaced earth is slopping gently around the garden and pooling on the patio or decking. Much more rain and it'll be over the step and in the conservatory.
And the rain dance can be seen here often, as my spouse dashes up the garden to the garage to get her car, sidestepping with grace akin to the waltz the puddles and pools of earthy water.
There's nothing as affable as a wet dog... unless it's half a ton of horse trying to dry itself on you.
ReplyDeleteEver since the council announced a hosepipe ban it's poured down around these parts, our car park even flooded yesterday. So, could I be cheeky and ask you guys to have a think about what to sprinkle to protect our Honda's and Toyota's..?
ReplyDeleteMy attempt to send you my miserable rain has worked partway....you are getting it, but I'm still drowning too. Misery loves company.
ReplyDeleteNot here it ain't - the drought just manifested as hailstones the size of nodules on one's thyroid. Battered all the plants to death and made instant compost.
ReplyDelete