We're not going to get many cherries this year. They were all bumped off by a mighty hailstorm in the middle of the night a couple of weeks ago. Fearnley's friend Tom has kept some of the hailstones in his freezer. They were as big as ice cubes.
Lowri's parents came from England to visit last week, and we went with her dad to the nursery to buy some fruit trees. We stuffed the car with a Granny Smith, a Royal Gala, a Louise Bonne, a Beurré Hardy, and an Agen. Dig dig dig dig dig.
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Life in the Tarn
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