Irrigated

“Drip irrigation for every bed” is not a common political rallying cry. There comes a point, however, when hand watering sucks the hours out of every day. Irrigation, of some kind, is the obvious way out.

I spent a few hours either side of dinner reusing drip lines where possible or cutting new ones as needed. Connectors had to be found/made with the correct spacing for each bed. (In theory, since the bed sizes and crop spacing don’t change, I should be able to reuse last year’s setup. In practice, that doesn’t seem to be the case).

Hamish is back for another night of respite. Angus cooks tea. There is calm in the house.