Elizabeth Macarthur's (fictional) diary of life at her farm near Parramatta in New South Wales in 1807.
August 16, 2007
29 January 1807, by Elizabeth Macarthur
Fort Phillip - building has re-commenced
Once again the heat has struck. Yesterday at Seven Hills the sun was so strong that my neck and shoulders are burnt raw today, and today there is not relief from the oppressive heat to be found anywhere. We all take to the main rooms during the middle of the day and tell poor cook to leave the kitchen - she makes the most delicious lemon drink with sugar and juice and, I think, some tartar. We drank 5 gallons during the day.
The sheep that Mr. Larra has for sale seem very well conformed, so I may bid on those if John allows it.
We pulled some cucumbers yesterday for dinner that weighed over two pounds each, yet they were as sweet and delicious as you could hope. Cut along the length, with a dash of salt, they seemed to repel the heat. Why is that even when in the sun all day, the curcubits are always chilly cold inside? One of nature's little miracles - Elizabeth loves them.
I have quite a few fellows bringing water to the garden late in the day - I'd hate to lose trees in this heat.
One Sunday, soon, we are going to Church in Sydney, and I've arranged to see Fort Phillip, which is again being constructed. It is hard to believe that with the monopoly government has with the Store and tariffs in port, that it should always cry poor. I expect we will be in Sydney again soon to see the Kings once more before they leave - oh, parting is such sorrow, and not really so sweet!
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