Our Macedonian Summer.

 It’s remarkable how summer, as for any longed-for event, takes its time coming, then seems to scarper on before we properly have time to savour it. We have had tragic news so far and some excellent news as well.

It was horrific to hear of the death of the American scientist, Dr Suzanna Eaton, while she was in Crete to attend a conference.  Thankfully the police found the killer but hearing the circumstances in which she died was very hard to stomach. The recent violent storms in Halkidiki also led to tragic loss of life: seven souls all told. Any loss of life is lamentable, but in the case of tourists and conference delegates, it must be particularly difficult for family and friends to countenance such devastating news.

After our heavy rains in June, the sun came out and the garden cheered us with blooms of varied shapes and shades. Below is the wild garlic, or allium, whose straggly plants I allow to grow in our rose garden because of its delicate pink florets. Alongside it is the beautiful morning glory, or ipomoea, of the convolvulus family, with its rich velvety flower and delightful heart-shaped leaves. I once harvested seeds and gave them to friends as Christmas gifts. Two years later they were bemoaning the fact it was taking over their gardens!

                                          

Last autumn Z did not give our acacia tree its usual severe pruning and our tree responded by providing bounteous blooms – delicate, fragrant power puffs. Our roses also respond to the heat by developing too quickly: the buds bloom and fade before we can fully enjoy them. But there is always fresh budding to follow.

                                        

 

Alas, the same cannot be said for some of our other plants. Below our fine cucumber vine can be seen scaling the frame, trailing its plump, sweet fruit. But as our temperatures began to nudge 40oC, within 48 hours that fine plant had collapsed, its leaves like parchment.

                                    

Prunella reclines  in front of our great rocket patch, its leaves in salad giving a fine sharpness in contrast to the sweetness of our tomatoes. Despite constant watering, the rocket, too, rapidly went to seed and was felled by the heat.

                                            

Fortunately we only saw the tail end of the well-documented storms that ravaged Halkidiki. That night we had an awesome display of lightning, eerily without any attendant thunder, distant as it was. We did not have the 100 km-an-hour gusts recorded down on the coast, but the wind was enough to fell stout branches and we had lots of windfall apples and pears. 

 

                                        

An entire row of well-supported tomato plants, were dashed to the ground. Here is Z raising and retying them - under the supervision of Mr Mao.

So, we have just finished processing the still-unripe fruit in chutneys, crumbles, juices and sauces.

                              

 

Thankfully our temperatures have dropped to a more comfortable 30oC mark. Still, it can be thirsty work and you have to conserve your energy in the heat.

 Leon, our resourceful doggie, has learned that, instead of walking round the back to access his water bowl, he can just use the big one to slake his thirst. And the livin’ is easy!

                                            

   

PS The excellent news is that Syriza, ding-dong like the wicked witch, is gone!   :)