Still battered by unseasonable gales. My poor Kelvedon Wonders have been blown flat *again* and are looking less wonderful by the day. Spent the morning rigging up something of a windbreak for them.

The temperature is still very low for the time of the year, it rarely gets past 8 degrees, and combined with the damp, cold soil my tomatoes aren’t progressing as they should be – I was a little over-enthusiastic in transplanting too early, which hasn’t helped. I spent the afternoon rigging up a temporary cloche out of some builder’s plastic (found abandoned in the carpark of the Irish Bar after a particularly good sesh last year – the sight of 2 pissed idiots stumbling around trying to control 20 square metres of wet plastic would have been worth Youtubing, but that’s another story).

Finished the day by clearing yet more piles of beheaded gorse; jammed into a sand sack, dragged to the cliff and thrown over the edge. The gorse, that is. Digging the barbs out of my hands and arms gives me something to do in the evenings. I call it the ‘Redneck’s Manicure’.

The camera died on me today. And I lost my pocket knife, my constant companion for thirty-odd years, which saddened me a bit. Plus ca change, and all those kinds of noises. I dug out the old battery-eating 3 megapixel dinosaur, which seems to take about one picture in 5, so only 2 pictures today; predictably the boring ones.

I also discovered a real gem of a book in the bottom of an old trunk: ‘Middleton’s Gardening Guide, 1948′. I think it was originally published as part of the ‘Dig for Victory’ push in the Second World War. Apart from being packed with simple, basic advice, it has little homilies at the foot of each page from the great man himself; one leapt out at me: “Mr Middleton says, when you’re flabby and fifty, swinging a pick isn’t as easy at is used to be”. I’m forty-two; it was nice to finish a difficult day with a grin!

Hasta luego!