June 26

Posted by sydney on Jun 26th, 2009
  • 1791: June 26, 1791 – Fifteen Whites dines this day at my Bro. B. White’s table; as did also a Mr Wells, a great, great, great grandson of the Revd John Longworth, in old times vicar of Selborne, who dyed about the year 1678.  Dr & Mrs Chandler returned to Selborne.
  • 1785: June 26, 1785 – Annuals die thro’ heat. Hops run their poles. Mr Powlett of Rotherfield has no water for his cattle in the park, but what he fetched from Alton! He has a well for the house. Many years ago Mr Powletts’s grandfather fetched water from Alton for all his cattle, deer & all, for three months together. My well is low; but affords plenty of fine clear water. We draw great quantities for the garden. A constant spring runs through it.
  • 1784: June 26, 1784 – Fire in the parlor.
  • 1783: June 26, 1783 – Tedded the hay, & put it in a small cock.  Sun looks all day like the moon, & shed a rusty red light.  Mr & Mrs Brown, & niece Anna Barker came from the county of Rutland.
  • 1782: June 26, 1782 – Serapias latifolia blossoms in the Hanger, & high wood.
  • 1781: June 26, 1781 – Young restarts come abroad.
  • 1779: June 26, 1779 – Cold black solstice.
  • 1778: June 26, 1778 – Ricked the meadow-hay, six jobbs, & fine, & free from weeds. Did not mow the little mead.
  • 1777: June 26, 1777 – Began to cut my st foin; large and much lodged, & full of wild grasses.  The tenth crop.
  • 1776: June 26, 1776 – No young partridges are flyers yet: but by the deportment of the dams it is plain they have chickens hatched; for they rise & fall before the horses feet, & hobble along as if wounded to draw-off attention from their helpless broods.  Sphinx forte ocellata.  A vast insect; appears after it is dusk, flying with an humming noise, & inserting it’s tongue into the bloom of the honey-suckle: it scarcely settles on the plants but feeds on the wing in the manner of humming-birds.  Omiah, who is gone on board the Resolution, is expected to sail this week for Otaheite with Capt. Cook.
  • 1774: June 26, 1774 – My Brother’s vines turn pale on the chalk: the leaves begin to whither.
  • 1773: June 26, 1773 – Great hail-storm at Alton St foin not yet turned.
  • 1772: June 26, 1772 – Sun sultry, cloudless, severe heat.  Hottest day.  Ricked all the hay, save one job, in most excellent order.  Ground much burnt.
  • 1771: June 26, 1771 – Phallus impudicus olet.  Showers about.

Entries By Category

algae amphibians antiquities ants arachnids astronomy atmosphere autumn barometers bats bees behaviour blooming butterflies caprimulgi cats cattle chickens clouds cold collecting commerce corvids crickets cuckoo customs deer diaster disaster dogs dragonflies drought earthworms exclamation mark! farm life fish floods flowers fly catchers food & drink fossils fowl friends & family frost fruit fuel fungi game birds gardening geology grain grapes grass hawthorn hay health heat highlights hirundines hops horses household hunting ice improvements insects ion laburnum lark latin longer entry mammals meteorology migration natural philosophy NHoS nightingale owls parish matters pests pheasant pigs poetry quail quarae querae rain raptors rare birds redstart reptiles seabirds sheep shore birds small mammals snails snow songbirds storms swallow The Sublime Timothy the tortoise trees Uncategorized unusual plants vegetables vines wasps water waterfowl weather wheat wider world wildflowers winter worms

Meta