Really? You can’t come up with a more pithy title for today’s post?
I’m all pithed out. Christmas Eve and I’m just not getting enough time outdoors. There is catering. There is bed making. We have six guests coming to stay over Christmas. But not at our table. They are just the overflow from next door. Daniele is doing the loaves and fishes thing on insisting having 20 people for Christmas Dinner. Ten of them are doing a four hour round trip, and six will stay with us.
I just checked on the pictures I wanted to insert: and oh my they are relentlessly brown.
I don’t want to risk sowing grass seed just yet. Mainly because I don’t have any. And also because those wild boar can come through here and churn it to hell.
And here is what they got up to yesterday on the upper terrace. I was mooching about in search of rose hips on long whippy branches for a vase.
Once I realized the rose hips were a no go I ventured further in search of holly.
No berries. I must try and find some fruiting hollies to grow in this forest. We either have all one sex. I assume males. Or the fruit is picked off by my blame-all villains.
Speaking of villains.
Here is the beast enjoying a nice perch while I worked. He kept his paws clear of the dirt and had a lovely time bothering me while I worked. Sorry it’s such a graphic shot of endless bags from Ikea. And a fence. But you get the picture.
I’m too grumpy to continue. Bah humbug.