Oh my, my, what a night of weather. We do so hope our Scottish and northern friends have fared well, with the forecasts of bad weather that were broadcast last evening. Why even here the wind was at its most tempestuous overnight, moaning and groaning and sending any apples, left on the trees in our little orchard, crashing to the ground; a symphony from the wind quartet grounded by the bass of the apples dropping. This morning we awoke from broken sleep to the sound of field fares, blackbirds, robins and song thrushes arguing over the spoils of the nights storm, the sounds of their different voices mingling with the slightly milder wind. There is nothing quite so nice as being ensconced in a warm bed when listening to an overnight storm raging, nor rising in the morning to find that ones home and estate have been lucky and no damage ensued, for which we are most grateful.
My poor guardians however have quite a task upon them in collecting a large quantity of the fallen apples to dispose of such is the harvest this year. I forecast a busy day ahead. They will of course ensure a supply for the wildlife that abounds in our little haven.
My lady guardian will also bottle the sloe gin that has been carefully tended over the last month or so. Neither guardian partakes of alcohol but sloe gin is a desirous gift for country dwellers, plus, with the prospect of a visit from our family in the Australia's again next year, a small stash will be welcome. Our Australian family were quite taken with the small amount my guardians had when they last stayed and, as they are due to visit in Autumn next year, a warming nip may be gratefully partaken. Thus preparations have begun not just for the coming festive season but also with thoughts of autumn next year. Such diligence is admirable, do you not agree?
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