Hot, or what? Too much for me. Amazingly, I had two wwoofers here who didn't mind the heat (they are from South America) and they spent days clearing the shoulder-high weeds that had grown a metre in three weeks. (Why won't the veg grow as well?) Wet followed by warmth is a good recipe for weeds. Nicolas and Nadia, I salute you!
The jackdaw overstayed his welcome, but in the end I taught him to pick up his own food, instead having it thrust down his throat. It took a while for the cats to accept him in the house without growling, but they did - here are me, my huge cat Fish, and Jack, having a cuddle together.
The hayfields are of course composed of plants that grow just as readily in the garden, where they are not supposed to be - and are therefore classed as weeds. No problem howking them out from the veg beds as the surrounding fields are full of them and will readily replace them.
You can see how beautifully green the bales are. Good hay at last! The beauty of my meadows is that they are full of different flowers and grasses, giving the animals a varied and nourishing diet (unlike non-stop rye grass) and they are self-sustaining. The only thing I put on them to help them grow is sheep. They self-seed, the vetches and clovers provide all the nitrogen needed, and year by year they change with the weather and the grazing pattern. The helpers that I have to get in to do the carting (not being strong enough myself) are telling the whole town that my hay is the best they have ever seen.
