Some of the year's peppers grown at Patterdale Hall. (Photo by Chris Wyatt)
The Patterdale Hall Diaries | The spice must flow
- Published: September 26, 2025
By Chris Wyatt
Aug. 2, 2025
We have what looks like a run of beautiful days coming, with low humidity and temperatures peaking at 80 F. This is a welcome change, as the last few weeks have been wet and hot.
However, the tropical conditions of the last few weeks have meant that the scorpion peppers and the Carolina reapers have begun to fruit. They are the fussiest chiles to grow, and several times we have tried with no luck. This year will be different, hopefully.
Aug. 16, 2025
And so, the randomly carved up, continuing sequence of events continues. My surgery was an astonishing experience. Dr. Hellan used Da Vinci 5 robot-assisted surgery to remove 14 inches of my sigmoid and descending colon.
I was walking and eating after one day, discharged after two days, off painkillers by day three and driving by day five. Utterly, utterly miraculous.
This was not the hack-and-slash abdominal surgery of yore. Food is passing through me fine, and while I have to be a little careful with my diet, I can eat most things. Additionally, I have to avoid lifting things, and absolutely no mowing. I am OK with this, as it is August, and the grass has slowed its growth.
Furthermore, the lawn mower won’t actually start, and so I shall need to tinker with spark plugs and air filters before mowing can begin again in earnest.
It has only really been a week since I was out at the Hall and so precious little has changed. Most notably though, the scorpion pepper and Carolina reaper plants are really hitting their stride. They are covered in big, healthy, award-winning pepper pods. The spice must flow.
Aug. 17, 2025
I am somewhat hampered by my surgery and can’t lift anything or really strain at all. This reduces what I can do out at Patterdale Hall to tomato picking, and honestly, I’m OK with that.
The Juliet tomatoes are cropping like crazy, and our Brandywine tomatoes are ripening nice and slow. I ate one of them the other day and it was delicious. The Juliet tomatoes are not the most delicious and I will be returning to sungolds and sunsweets next year.
In the meantime, all I can do is gaze in awe at our squash. They are everywhere; we will have hundreds of them.
Aug. 18, 2025
I have published the first section of “The Patterdale Hall Diaries” via Kindle Direct Publishing. I should find out in 72 hours whether everything is OK, and then it will be available to all via Amazon. It only took me a couple of hours to work with the software and get it in a format that I was fine with. I could have spent many hours tweaking formats and photos, but that really isn’t my style. It was more important to get it done so I can send my Mum, Dad and Auntie copies.
Fifty-four-thousand words vanished into a slim 140-page pamphlet — amazing really.
You can’t rush a diary, and so the second installment of “The Patterdale Hall Diaries” will be at least another three years in the making. It is a fun vanity side project, and documenting our life in America is something that I hope will be of some interest to my kids, or their kids, at some point in their lives.
They are pretty busy with their own lives these days, but one day they may be glad I put stuff down on paper.
Aug. 22, 2025
This is the last weekend before I go back to work. I’m incredibly happy that my recovery from surgery has been so smooth, but I really would like to be able to do more physical work.
Wood needs splitting, and as anticipated, neither of my children have mowed out there. To be fair to Bob and Morris, it has been a dry few weeks, and the grass isn’t out of control, but it does need tidying up.
I’m going to give myself another week before I mow, and another two weeks before I split wood. And, because I’m sensible, I will mow in smaller sections than I usually do. The last thing I need is to be back in hospital.
We have spotted a couple of black-headed vultures hanging around at the Hall. Then, this morning, as I drove up Patterdale Avenue, I caught a whiff of the stench of death. Archie and I went to investigate, but strangely the carrion smell had vanished. I picked a few tomatoes and headed home.
On the journey home the smell of death appeared again, but this time on Grinnell Road. It was Archie’s breath. Archie’s breath smells like a decaying corpse.
It’s time to cut back on the sardines, little dog.
Aug. 24, 2025
My Mum’s birthday has come around once more, and I shall phone her shortly. She is currently lunching somewhere.
Ahh, the last day of freedom before I return to work. I wish I could simply focus on teaching, but we have to assess all our academic programs yet again. I’ll just knuckle down and do it.
Today I shall quietly potter around at the Yellow Springs house. Karen has been doing a lot of digging at the Hall, but I’m limited to sniffing flowers and walking Archie — not a bad way to spend a sunny Sunday in August. Maybe I’ll read a few chapters of my book and rustle up some tasty food. That seems like a solid plan.
*Originally from Manchester, England, Chris Wyatt is an associate professor of neuroscience, cell biology and physiology at Wright State University. He has lived in Yellow Springs for 17 years, is married and has two children and an insane Patterdale terrier. “The Patterdale Hall Diaries” by Chris Wyatt is now available in book format via Amazon for $11.99.
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