No apologies for offering a further update on the Roscoff onion sets which Lucy Kempton sent me from Britanny in the Spring. Because of the cold weather and grey skies it has taken time for the bulbs to begin to swell. As I have said I have hoed them assiduously and I am beginning to feel that L's kind gesture will not be in vain.
Oh yes, and I mustn't call them Roscoff onions because although the sets come from Roscoff the bulbs are maturing elsewhere. Appelation controlee.
As I get older when considering some of the preoccupations which afflict people of my age, I find myself consoled by certain statistics . I like to remember that: the Universe is probably 13. 7 billion years old; The Earth is 4.54 billion years old; life of some kind has existed on Earth for 3.8 billion years; human beings evolved between 150,000 - 200,000 years ago; we are supposed to share something like 97 per cent of the genes of chimpanzees.
Calverley Crescent, the road above Tunbridge Wells with the dignified spacious houses build by Decimus Burton in the 19th Century, borders a meadow, which is at its best at this time of year. Never in my recollection has the meadow looked better, now that the grass has been left to grow and sway in the wind as it does this afternoon. Butterflies, so rare nowadays, are back and buttercups and willow herb are in abundance. More wild flowers please, everywhere. I have made my own contribution by sowing two substantial strips in the vegetable garden.