The weather really can’t make up its mind. We’ve just had the driest spring on record: six weeks without a single drop of rain. And that’s in 20-degree temperatures – by English standards, that’s summer. My poor garden was getting more dessicated than a Dr Who victim (sorry, my 7-year-old is obsessed and I therefore have an hour’s Dr Who indoctrination every Saturday evening. It has a way of seeping into everything else, too.)
Now, we’ve had nothing but rain for more than a week. Admittedly, that’s far more typical of your average English spring, but we do usually have the odd dry-but-cloudy spell to ring the changes. Now the path down the garden is once again under three inches of water and I can’t get out there as it’s a quagmire and there’s no point planting anything until it dries out a bit.
My greenhouse is very well-tended, anyway – the only dry spot in the place. I put my cucumbers into the earth border today (this post should probably go in my allotment blog but what the hell). They’re “Cum Laude F1” – the seed cost a bomb but lovely little plants. The rest of the greenhouse is bursting at the seams – I’m sowing seed every two weeks all this year to keep allotment, cutting garden and Christopher Lloyd summer bedding scheme in full production, and my humble little 6ft by 8ft can hardly stand the pace.