Apple harvest

My orcha'ds wide, my trees be young;
An' they do bear such heavy crops,
Their boughs, lik' onion rwopes a-hung,
Be all a-trigg'd to-year, wi' props.
I got some gearden groun' to dig,
A parrock, an' a cow an' pig;
I got zome cider vor to swig,
An' eale o' malt an' hops.

From The Hwomestead by William Barnes (Dorset dialect poet)

Ripe to be picked! Unfortunately, although these apples look delicious they don't taste very nice so they will have to be cooked or/and sliced and put in the freezer for the winter. Alternatively the local cider maker could have them.

A better day. N still feeling well and spending time in the hospital restaurant with his paper and a cup of coffee til the doctors call him back. In the afternoon his late aunt's bank executors visited me. I would have far rather have been outside in the glorious weather! N then phoned to say he was allowed to leave and would be home by early evening, the hospital had found a driver! All is well.

Thank you all for your kind comments regarding N's progress. It is so supportive when one is feeling down.