What Imelda Marcos was to shoes, I supect I am as obsessive about stone walls.
And here is the latest.
It is up at the top potager, above the road and on the way to the forest.
There were a zillion small stones hanging about. In fact I think there used to be a stone wall here a long time ago. As there has been a potager here ever since the spring above the vegetable garden flowed.
The water supply isn’t reliable any more; but the willow tree left behind is evidence where it once was.
I have paced out this area; and I think I can put up new fencing – the same as the chestnut enclosure on the lower potager.
And the deer would have to bash their way through a bramble field to reach the juicy vegetables on my side.
The fencing comes in ten metre long rolls. And I learned to my cost from last time that I can’t even get it into and out of the car as it’s so heavy.
But as I have removed the brambles from this area and the whole thing is so visually pleasing, I think I can plead my case.
No wait. There is no judge and jury. This is the marvellous thing about having such a large farm to play with. If Madame wants a fenced in top potager; then all she needs to do is earn the funds, order the stuff and then get some strong helper to unroll it out of the station wagon and stand by while she hammers it into place.