Heatwave

I pottered in the garden mainly watering and transplanting transplants until 11.30 and then retired behind the thick stone walks of the house closing all the shutters and windows in a bid to keep inside cooler than outside.

It’s now six o’clock and still35C outside with about 30% humidity. Thankfully the low humidity makes it feel slightly less hot than it is.

I’m continuing my passage through Anthony Trollope’s huge rambling novel, The Prime Minister. It is a great psychological portrait of power and ambition, doubt and disaster, and the iron hierarchy of wealth and prestige in the claustrophobic world of the 19th century aristocracy and the upcoming industrialists and financiers.

And the stracciatella ice cream with our cherry compote was delicious.

I shall venture out shortly to give the pepper plants some water. I dare say we’ll have the fans running pell mell tonight.