The Natural History of Selborne

• 1791: July 11, 1791 – Chardons are usually blanched, & stewed like celeri: but my Brother boils the heads of his, which are very sweet, & in flavour like artichokes; the chief objection is, that they are very small, & afford little substance in their bottoms.  The heads of chardons are sold in the markets & are thought to be a delicate morsels.  Chardons are strong, vigorous plants, & grow six & seven feet high, & have strong sharp prickles like thistles.
• 1790: July 11, 1790 – Now the meadow is cleared, the brood-swallows sweep the face of the ground all day long; & from over that smooth surface collect a variety of insects for the support of their young.
• 1789: July 11, 1789 – The fly-catchers in the vine bring out their young.
• 1787: July 11, 1787 – Planted a line of kidney-beans
• 1785: July 11, 1785 – The down is so burnt, that it looks dismally.
• 1784: July 11, 1784 – My horses, which lie at grass, have had no water now for about 8 weeks: nor do they seem to desire any when they pass by a pond, or stream.  This method of management is particularly good for aged horses, especially if their wind is at all thick.  My horses look remarkably well.
• 1783: July 11, 1783 – The heat overcomes the grass-mowers & makes them sick.  There was not rain enough in the village to lay the dust.  The water in my well rises!  tho’ we draw so much daily!  watered much.  No dew, sun, & hase, rusty sunshine!  The tempest on friday night did much damage at West-meon, & burnt down three houses and a barn.  The tempests round on thursday and friday nights were very aweful!  There was vast hail on friday night in several places.  Some of the standard honey-suckles, which a month ago were so sweet & lovely, are now loathsome objects, being covered with aphides, & viscous honey-dews.  Gardens sadly burnt.
• 1781: July 11, 1781 – Trenched-out celeriac, & some of the new-advertized large celeri. Planted out some endive. A pair of house-martins, that built under the eaves of my stable, lost their nest in part by a drip, just as most of the young were flown. They are now repairing their habitation in order to rear a second brood.
• 1780: July 11, 1780 – Finished my great parlor, by hanging curtains, & fixing the looking-glass.
• 1779: July 11, 1779 – By the number of swifts round the church which seem to be encreased to more than 30, their young ones must be come out.
• 1778: July 11, 1778 – Finished cutting the hedges. Watered the garden. Many ponds are dry. Much hay ricked.
  * The young martins that were hatched June 11th began to come-out of their nest July 7th, so that they arrive at their maturity in somewhat less than a month. A colony of black ants comes forth every midsummer from under my stair-case, which stands in the middle of the house; & as soon as the males & females (which fill all the windows & rooms) are flown away, the workers retire under the stairs & are seen no more. It does not appear how this nest can have any communication with the garden or yard; & if not, how can these ants subsist in perpetual darkness & confinement!
• 1777: July 11, 1777 – Bees swarm by heaps.  31 swifts appear: so that if near half of them are not strangers the young broods are out.
• 1776: July 11, 1776 – Tilia europaea. The lime blows, smells very sweetly, & affords much pabulum for the bees.
  * Bees come & suck the cherries where the birds have broke the skin; & on some autumns, I remember they attack’d & devoured the peaches & Nect. where the wasps had once made a beginning.
• 1775: July 11, 1775 – Destroyed a wasp’s nest which was grown into a considerable bulk, & had many working wasps.
• 1773: July 11, 1773 – Partridges young, flyers.
• 1772: July 11, 1772 – Drought has continued five weeks this day.  Watered the rasp and annuals well.
  * There is a sort of wild bee frequenting the garden-campion for the sake of its tomentum, which probably it turns to some purpose in the business of nidification.  It is very pleasant to see with what address it strips off the pubes, running from the top to the bottom of a branch, & shaving it bare with all the dexterity of a hoop-shaver.  When it has got a vast bundle, almost as large as itself, it flies away, holding it secure between it’s chin and it’s forelegs.
• 1770: July 11, 1770 – Vast showers about but no rain.  Turn’d the St. foin twice, & cocked it in a small cock.
• 1769: July 11, 1769 – Whitchurch, Hants.
  Butomus umbellatus.  The stint, cinclus, Aldro. appears about the banks of the Thames.  At Oxford it is called the summer snipe.
• 1768: July 11, 1768 – Cut my great meadow.

Notes:
Lots of background on the chardon, or cardoon, a sister to the thistle and artichoke, at ladybugletter.com. The bee observed shaving the hairs off the plants was wool-carder bee, Anthidium manicatum.