Another storm last night. Jill and I were so tired we slept though most of it. Our thatched roof deadens the noise of falling rain so that it is usually thunder and lightning that wakens us. Last night we slept blissfully through most of the histrionics of a tropical storm. I remember waking briefly to the knowledge that it was raining but was immediately drawn back into the “Seven Sleeper Den”. I was surprised when I woke up and found a small puddle on the veranda – a sure sign of heavy rain. I hastened to the rain gauge and was delighted to record another 30mm had fallen during the night. Today has been fine but very humid. Jill and I did a lot of transplanting this morning: Busy Lizzies (Impatiens) in the borders next to the house and in the courtyard, three coffee trees on the edge of the grove of trees by the upper terraces, and a few hibiscus along the lane leading to the vlei. In the mean time Tau was hard at work mowing the grass in front of the house and down towards Brian’s. The smell of new mown grass is always evokes the feel of high summer and of the fecundity all around us.
We reaped a few potatoes today. We battle with this crop as they are host to so many predators, viruses and fungal attacks. Growing them without chemical protection is never easy, but added to this our strange soils with high magnesium and pockets of toxic chrome make for something of a gamble. Still the flavour of new potatoes is worth the effort. One long row that seems to be surviving the various attackers, grown on virgin soil is looking remarkably good but it is still weeks away from harvesting. I hope it is so healthy that it will be able to resist the hungry organisms that compete with us for their nutritional worth! A similar crop of tomatoes, grown right through the rains when fungal attack is most prevalent, has emerged as the best I have ever grown. Tall, strong plants without a blemish are just starting to fruit. They have been inter-planted with marigolds and present