The world from my window

And the long, hot summer days are gone, the air is still and the sky is grey. Gardens are looking ragged, fields are tired and crying out to move on to autumn. Up at the village hall, that last hoorah of the season - the annual flower show - opens its doors to the public. There are gasps at the size of the onions, smiles at the vegetable monsters and hurt - real hurt - at winning only a consolation prize in the category for scones. It's been a difficult year for growing, as anyone who has been in England since late winter will tell you. We had two heavy blasts of snow in March, followed by rain and then a heatwave. How can anyone grow runner beans - let alone the longest - in conditions like that? But, despite a drop in exhibits, the show still attracts entries, although it's clear that home winemaking is a thing of the past, with only one bottle vying for honours this year. Maybe we need a new class for cider or elderflower cordial or maybe even flavoured oils...

Typical.  The sky's clouded over now we're due a spectacular red lunar eclipse . The so-called Blood Moon should be on show tonight from nine o'clock until quarter past ten. But it doesn't look likely from where I'm standing, as the sky is currently a light grey. Shame. Still, we need the rain, and the little we've had so far today is not even as much as the salt and vinegar the lady in the chip van puts on my Tuesday night treat of battered sausage, chips and curry sauce. I wish the heavens would open, spill their load and then the clouds part just before nine o'clock to reveal an orb of striking red. If wishes were horses, I'd have enough to enter the Grand National for each year of my life. The lunar eclipse would be a fitting end to the working week in which people in un-air conditioned offices have sweltered and local builders worked in the heat on rooftops and took on the shape of human finials. Trees stooped in the hedgerows, g...

And so a heatwave descended. Like long lost relatives, it dropped in, just like that. No advance phone call to tell us it was coming. It just turned up on our doorstep and didn't even wipe its shoes. Hanging baskets drooped, beaten senseless by the sun's rays. Shade was hard to find. But, oh how we welcomed it, running towards it with open arms. Dogs found the coolest corners to lie in, occasionally looking up to say please don't take me out in this heat. I can't stand it . Farmers made hay while the sun shone. But even the tractors needed a rest. Take a trip over to A Dorset Year to see how our Great Get Together  weekend panned out. That's about it. Love Maddie x