Really, the cold gets worse and worse. This is the date when, according to tradition, the cows ought to lie out, but there seems no possibility of it. When we were remarking to a visitor that it was unusually cold for May, she contended it was not unusual.
“In Yorkshire,” she said, “We have a saying: ‘After the 12th of May comes a cow quake.’” So we may still expect to shiver. We hear that someone found ice an inch thick on a trough of water in an open field. A more credible tale is that it has been the thickness of half a crown in places.
In this morning’s paper I read that round Iceland there is a barrier of ice greater than has been known for 100 years and that this is the source of the cold north winds which have bothered us of late. It is better this morning and a high wind blows the dust thick on the newly opened hedges.
As our jam is finished, we boiled some rhubarb to-day with a lemon . It did not really thicken, of course, but it does not matter as it will be quickly used.
Three tulips — two yellow and one red are open in the garden to-day. The Forget Me Nots which are the glory of the garden in early May are shrivelled where they are unprotected to-ward the north wind. There is no flower that is so easily grown but its beauty is readily injured by a withering wind.
We killed a hen to-day that laid at intervals of a week. There was a curious growth in its intestines. The ducklings are coming out very badly and not as briskly as they should be. Very likely the eggs have got partially chilled at some time.