June 13th, Monday
This morning we took our departure and arrived at Ross, a quaint old town with a most lovely ancient red sandstone bridge upon which grew masses of Red Valerian and in the centre of which stood an ancient sundial. There is an old market hall, a very fine church containing some lovely old tombs, a perfect chapel the screen and altar rails of which are in memory of the Fallen and an organ too is a War memory erected by some lady in gratitude for those who were spared. We stayed at the King’s Head, not very nice.

June 14th, Tuesday
Alas our last day has arrived. We left Ross during the morning and not wishing to get home before lunch stayed and had that meal at St Anthony’s Well where we drank that most lovely water, icy cold. We reached home at 2 and found Letty and Blake preparing for our return and we rushed all over the garden inspecting the growth and change in everything. At 3 Poggy returned, a happy reunion.

June 15th
My birthday and I have arrived at the hateful age of 42.

June 20th, Monday
The whole of the past week we’ve been hard at work haymaking and despite the long dry spell our crop is far heavier than last year. It is so hot that we cut and carried it straight away so its been a quicker job.

June 21st, Tuesday
The longest day and a very long one for me for I had to go with all the women on their outing to Weston, a run of 80 miles. It is a hateful place and whilst there had to prance about on switch backs and water shoots etc. I was thankful these joys do not come more than once a year.

June 30th, Thursday
The last day of my beloved month has come. I am always sad when it passes away for yet another year. Our roses and lilies have been perfect and don’t seem to mind the drought at all and every day passes in most glorious sunshine. A wonderful half year with no winter and no long wet spell but alas there is no rose without a thorn and we are suffering from want of water and have had no drinking water for a fortnight, all having to be carried up from Peglars Farm which for dairy making is awful. All the farmers are crying out and the harvest will be very early and poor. I go tomorrow to Malvern to my two beloved creatures and stay at Gold Hill till Monday. I can’t say I enjoy the prospect of a train in this intense heat.