I love my wife!

Every now and again, just when you're thinking of trading her in for a polytunnel, the missus does something wonderful to remind you why you married her in the first place. Because the Jet Stream has decided to fuck off on its holidays to the South of France we're getting the many millions of gallons of the water that is normally meant for Scotland dumped on us. Scotland is used to it. We're not! And as there is no end in sight according to recent forecasts I was getting very concerned that my considerably swelling onions would get botrytis or rot off, when I really needed to start drying them off by decreasing the watering.

My wife has travelled this journey with me. We had a weekend away to collect the onion plants that had been grown for us by Helen Vincent and she helped pack them carefully in the car for the return journey. She has watched them grow with me and makes the daily walk down the garden to watch me wrap a cloth tape measure around them and jot the circumferences down in my diary for reference in future years. As we woke yesterday to yet another grey day, with no sign of the Jet Stream going back home, I was bemoaning the fact that my onions would undoubtedly start to split or worse. What happened next proves miracles do happen. She suggested (nay, insisted!) that I bring them up into our conservatory, one that we had recently cleared out of collected crap so that we could sit each night looking at the sunset with a drink in hand. This is what we share it with now!