Two more things about apples

So, it’s been a while, eh?

It’s not you; it’s me. Or rather, it’s the after-effect of having two small children – micro-DarkerSide is now nearly five months old, and by the time we’ve got both her and her two-year-old brother down to sleep in the evening I’m a comatose wreck. I don’t aim for too high a standard of literacy with my writings at the best of times, but when I’m struggling to negotiate my own name a bit of light blogging is thoroughly off the cards.

However, in a rare spot of doubling-sibling nap-time I managed to draft this, so I might as well lob some pictures in and hit the publish button. Prepare yourself for applefactz.

Firstly, the pair of trees we planted in the garden a few months ago are still alive, to my surprise. The Cambusnethan Pippin pictured at the top of the page is a touch on the skinny side, but otherwise looks healthy.

The supposedly more robust Arthur Turner is distinctly bushier, but looking a little off-colour:

A slightly off-colour Arthur Turner

A couple of leaves also seem to have developed a mildly concerning mould:

A mouldy Arthur Turner leaf

Only time will tell whether this is a passing phase, or something that will reduce the entire tree to compost. Possibly starting of its life in distinctly waterlogged soil didn’t do it much good…

Fact #2 is that during an all-to-short holiday down south earlier in July I got roped in to helping lay out the next batch of trees for the Weaverham Memorial Orchard. This was an unexpectedly satisfying endeavour in the company of Mr DarkerSide Senior, a bunch of stakes, a mallet, and three lengths of 10m string. For those of you who did GCSE maths and remember the questions where you had to construct an abstract shape using only a ruler and compass; it was much like that.

Two heroes with some string

For those with an interest in obscure apple varieties, the trees that subsequently replaces the stakes were Wareham Russet, Lord Derby, and Minshull Crab.

The downside of being away for a week is that the rear lawn (which has been planted with such a vigorous strain of grass I can only assume it came from Chernobyl) was nearing knee height when we returned.

A toddlebike in some long grass

I might fit the Toddlebike with scythed wheels…

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