Apples are the key to Eden. The gentle hum (buzz is too noisy a word) of bees, the grasshopper chirruping, a Blackbird or two, or perhaps a Robin, just checking out its mate. The book open on the lap, the eyes just needing to be rested, the dappled sunlight through the orchard leaves, and the mearest air movement (not even a Zephyr). All the ingredients of a busy afternoon doing nothing.
Well we’re getting there.
The Joan Whittle memorial orchard is under way, the name is a bit of a joke, as she had offered to buy a tree. Thoughts then led to the wildflower meadow which is lovely in Spring but that’s only half of the area.
So we thought we would honour the origination of Merryhall as a cider house, and also leave a legacy for those following on, whoever they might be. Not having a family to leave it to, we will nevertheless have a memorial of our own. Previous owners looked ahead and were far-sighted and gave us a tree legacy, so we must do the same.
We have also started a step-over “orchard” by the patio. Good job we like apples!
Apres le parapluie. Doesn’t make any sense, really, but saying it convinces me I can…
Pannage is the name in the New Forest for anti-acorn operations, when pigs are allowed…
This morning, the first cold morning of the winter, coincided with the Autumn Equinox. The…
We’ve done very well this year, and time to pick the Cox’s Orange which we…
Merryhall. If all goes to plan we are moving, hoping to move is more accurate;…