Summer Harvest

For the last few weeks, we have had to warn our guests that apples are likely to fall off the tree and land on their car while parked outside our cottage. Luckily, there have been no damaging incidents, although the apples are now turning into large Bramley cooking apples, some weighing over half a pound.

Harvesting fruit from the garden and hedgerows is one of the joys of living here. It has become impossible to keep up with the glut of apples. The freezer is crammed with bags of sliced apples, and we are picking blackberries from the hedgerow as well. Blackberry and apple crumble is a favourite -- the fruit melts in the oven into a delicious purple mush. Today we picked nearly seven pounds of damsons off the tree outside the window. Half went into spiced damson chutney and the other half into damson jam. The tree is still laden with fruit. I'm speckled with damson juice and feeling strangely fulfilled from the pleasure of standing over a large preserving pan all day. And all the fruit was picked only a few feet from my front door.

At the Hall, the staff car park is an old orchard with various local apple and pear trees. I picked a large eating apple the other day, and ate it with my lunch. I'm hoping I will have a chance to try several different varieties before they finish. Someone can probably tell me what they are called, but for now I'm happy enough to notice the different shapes, colours and flavours. The trees are old -- planted several generations ago by people prepared to try different varieties of fruit and looked after so they are still fruitful today. Although the estate has been through many changes, people were sufficiently prescient to allow the trees their space. A remarkable legacy.

There is always a temptation to rip things up and start again -- gardeners, decorators and builders can be entranced with the thought of starting from scratch. But there is value in keeping and restoring the old, replacing things past their best, and being honest about what one is doing. Getting the balance right between conservation and restoration is yet another challenge for the Trust. Recreating a walled garden to supply produce for the restaurant, staff and volunteers is one of next year's projects. The garden was taken out after WW2, due to the effort required to maintain it. Now we have a waiting list of volunteers who want to work on it.

This emphasis on the value of local seems an enormous strength to me. So often local is equated with parochial, with an underlying meaning of restricted or even small-minded. Developing local relationships, with suppliers, contractors, farmers is a way of engaging with the community. I'm open to the idea of going local and feeling part of something that has a human dimension.

Come the winter, we will be eating our jams and chutneys, sitting in front of the wood burner full of logs from the estate. I could get used to this.

Summertime

The joys of an English summer -- flowers, sunshine, rain, thunder, umbrellas and mud. Norfolk has it all, as well as an overwhelming number of bugs, spiders and creepy crawlies of all descriptions. At least the birds are looking well fed.

The picture at the top of this post is of our outdoor concert, on one of the wettest and stormiest days of the summer. Simple Minds and The Stranglers entertained 3000 people holding about 1000 umbrellas. It was a really good night, even if raffle ticket sales were a bit disappointing. No one really wants to look for money when their jeans are soaked through.

Earlier that day, we had a lightning strike at the cottage. It didn't actually strike the cottage, but discharged close enough to blow the phone socket off the wall and fry one of our lamps. Paul and Hannah were indoors at the time and the bang made them both jump out of their skins. We lost our land line for 3 days, and broadband for a week. Luckily, our computer is connected to broadband by wireless, or we might have lost that too. Amazing how quiet it was without a phone line, especially as mobile phones seldom work around here.

Last weekend we went up to the coast and experienced the plague of ladybirds that has been in the news. There were millions of the insects covering every surface, including people, cars, pavements, windows. They crawled under clothes, were caught inside vehicles and crunched underfoot as you walked along. An incredible sight that makes me itch to think about it. Presumably they will eat all the aphids in the area, but whatever eats them must be in short supply.

Finally, pictures of a friendly and curious cow (they aren't all aggressive) we met while on a walk last weekend. She was disappointed she couldn't eat the camera.