Oof. Done. I have spent the late afternoon strimming like mad. And thanks to Andrew’s advice I cleaned the machine – paying close attention to the filters.  Once done, fueled and harnessed. I pulled the cord and the dear machine fired to life.

There was no stopping the machine. I have strimmed paths, tracks, verges and even did Jean Daniel’s potager. Well, it’s not a potager yet, just a mighty expanse of weeds. But by getting the grass down I can rake tomorrow, and then cover with weedproof fabric for the summer.  Then in autumn he and I can get to and get it planted.  I still have to tidy up the cut barbed wire that was attached to the sprouting tree that he brought down this week at the border between our two potagers. And remove the said tree and leave it for chopping into bits.  But the majority of the work is already done.

I then twinkled down the newly strimmed steps to the duck pond and laid waste to waist high grass that is romping away unchecked. I found some fetching ferns in the undergrowth after I removed a large clump of weeds.  They might get transplanted in the summer to a more showy spot.  Or I will just forget they are there and find myself distracted by other chores.

Edges of pool, edges of ornamental grasses; one exciting moment when I found some wire hidden under an elderflower seedling, and then by 8pm I conked out.

Tomorrow I shall finish bits. Rake like mad and try and get everything on my list sorted out. Friday night. Beer I think. The other strimmers were pleased with the progress as well.  They are now on the top terrace up above the road and working their way through weeds and grass and other delights.

I am waiting for the builder to arrive, so have decided to stay indoors at the computer instead of starting on weeding around the olive trees. It’s a grubby and slightly damp business. The weeding that is.  So best to be pristine for the indoor job of stairs, floors and kitchen plans for the guest house.

And while I’m waiting I thought I could do a little picture essay of the top vegetable plot. I call it a potager, but actually it’s just a food factory. Straight lines of asparagus, raspberries, potatoes and brassicas. No flowers, no clever designs. So it doesn’t deserve the potager label.

I have finally tied in the raspberries. They are growing so whippy and long that they need corralling.  It is a bit of a heath robinson affair, but it does the trick.

And next up was to take off the black weed proof fabric that has been covering the part of the plot destined for the overflow of the cabbage stock.  I would have preferred to have planted them down in the lower vegetable bed (a real potager) but I don’t have enough cloches to protect them from cabbage moth butterflies and deer and hares  there.

Up at the top vegetable bed is an almost stout fence (four legged deterrent) and I think I have some long straight and frankly ugly netting for this part of the out of sight plot.

We are keen on our brassicas, but I suspect they always germinate so well that I am forever trying to fit them in somewhere. Always an excess of seedlings.

So here it is. Off with the fabric and an inspection of the soil underneath. Not bad at all; lots of straying raspberry suckers. But they come up easily and the rest just needed a good dig over.

Dig and rake and out with the string to measure up the rows.  The whole plot curves somewhat, so I have taken my lines from the raspberries.

In goes cabbage, kale, white broccoli, and a whole row of swiss chard.  They are tiny seedlings and may not survive, but I need to get things out of the potting shed and into the ground. I have two week break in London and Scotland coming up and have to get that shed clear.

A final job of mulching the whole area where I planted out.  In with the sticks and on with the nets.  Stand back, admire, almost gloat and then weed the rest of the plot between the potato rows.

Done. It is complete. No more room for any veg or fruit or flowers. I just need to make it less unslightly with continual covering with the future grass clippings.

Oh yes, and for an encore, I potted on all the eragrostis seedlings. 107 plants. Bring em on!

All three of us are mowing hard: the two stallions and me.  I’m working the green machine that requires plodding trips up to the top potager to cover the potatoes in mulch. The horses are doing the terraces.  But I think they need to move on to pastures new in the next few days  as the grass is cropped and so are the lower branches of the cherry trees.  I did spend quite a bit of time corralling them into the road so they could work their way down the bank.  And fussing about them a bit.

They have that tremendously intelligent look when you come past with the mower – as if the box of grass clippings is actually a box of apples.  Mind you, they would probably think the grass clippings a gourmet treat. A ready meal.

Because I need to empty the grass catcher so often (damp grass) it has become a much longer job than I had intended.  (I didn’t write tedious, honest.) Luckily I can relieve the ahem, tedium of this chore by listening to talking books in my earphones. And enjoying the knowledge that the weeds will be suppressed for a bit.

It may not work, but I have become quite carried away and covered the weedproof fabric with a mulch of grass as well.  It’s more aesthetically pleasing for a day at least. And then everything fades to grey.  But a pretty top potager would be a change from the usual workmanlike combo of weeds, messy black fabric, and potato plants.

The day actually started in a different direction: I had intended to do a day’s strimming.  but the machine wouldn’t start. I tried and tried, cajoled and begged. And in the end had to put it away and mow instead.  I wish I knew what to do to repair it. Spark plugs? I’ll give it a really good clean tomorrow in the hope that a bit of tender loving care of the bits I can sort out might help.

Jean Daniel needs more flowers for St Michel. And as I am on the village flower committee, I really should have known this was the time of year they like to gussy things up.  I must plan it better for next year by sowing more flower seeds for the delight of the village.  I’m actually going to do a big order of bulbs for the village in November – so much easier than having to water things over the summer.

But I had a rummage in the potting shed and can give them half a dozen nasturtium plants. And cosmos galore. In fact I have so many self sown cosmos plants all about the potager that it gave me an idea.  Down with a trowell to the onion bed, and out came about forty little seedlings, more white than the dramatic pinks, but I think they will be fine.  I potted them up and hope their roots put on some structure and growth before they are planted out.

And naturally when you are up in the potting shed with too many seedlings for the pots I have decided that the cosmos can self sow in the terraces on the bank next year as well. It was better than chucking the seedlings on the compost heap anyway.  But first things needed weeding. I have done three of the four banks.  The top one is just a vetch patch right now, but that’s fine. I do like the vetch flowers, and as it’s a legume, will fix more nitrogen into the soil; giving me more time to think what to do with the bed.

I didn’t finish until after 8pm. But the weather held out so I couldn’t stop.  And here is the finished mulched product. I dare a weed to peep through this thicket of mulch.

I have come indoors for a bit of a refuel and to get a raincoat. To call this weather disappointing would be an understatement.  Rain I can cope with (only because I’m thinking of the garden), but cold? It’s only 10C outside.

Even the four legged lawn mowers look uncomfortable.  I went down first thing this morning to shovel poo and give them an apple.  I don’t think anyone could enjoy shovelling,  unless of course you are a gardener who knows in a year’s time this stuff will be gold.

The older stallion, I have noticed, is the greedy one. He eats cherry branches, any low shrub, and even cow parsley. But alas, neither of them seem to show any interest in the annoying vinca (perriwinkle) which is creeping inexorably about the terraces.  So that proves it’s a pest. No predator whatsoever. If you exclude the strimmer and mower.  But I can use neither with all this wet weather about.

Instead I am mulching like mad.  Locking in all that moisture that persists.  I have finished all the brassicas in the lower vegetable bed.  And they all seem to be surviving and almost putting on a spot of growth.  My aim is to have these cloches on the brassicas for ages without having to untangle all the netting and have to get in there with a hoe.

The mulch is from castorama and very cheap for the 70 litre bags.  I actually bought them way back last winter thinking I could use them as a potting compost.  But the stuff is so rough and crumbly, I wouldn’t put them anywhere near a seed.  But as a mulch – perfect.

If I had more bags of the stuff I would mulch the onion bed.  It’s a thicket of small and exciting weeds. And lots of self sown cosmos from last year.  But I have managed to shoe in a few rows of the sown spring onions from early spring.

Dare I show a picture? Well, if I have photographed a barrow load of fresh horse manure already, there is no low level to which I will stoop. So one thicket of onions, garlic, spring onions and weeds.

Luckily there are other pleasures in the potager right now apart from weeds. I ate another strawberry, tied in a few peas that are starting to shoot sideways along the netting. Don’t they know how much work one puts in to getting the darn things to shoot up?  And I planted another dozen lettuce seedlings.  This cold weather won’t be a problem for the poor leaves. They only bolt in the heat. And when will that come back?

To warm up I decided to attack the wood pile that has been serving as a wall between our lawn and the duck pond next door.  There is a bit more landscaping to do here, so getting rid of the logs was a nice warm the blood task.  I moved them to the wall below the swimming pool, ready for the car to take a few loads to the wood shed.  But as I can’t reverse successfully up the track (it’s a skill I haven’t mastered and don’t want to scratch the paintwork on the car trying) it will have to wait for someone else.

But getting the wood out of the way meant I was able to give it a good clean and tidy.  And remove heaps of accumulated weeds and leaves from under the soon to be trimmed chestnut stump.

Then a brisk hour pulling out the wrong weeds, raking, sowing grass seeds and it is taking shape.

To finish the day I potted up the lemon verbena and placed it in the courtyard.

And then as I was freezing but determined to get the most out of the day, I added an extra pair of socks to my cold feet and went up to the very messy pottng shed, where I potted on a few hundred basil seedlings. They are tremendously titchy right now, but with a warmer spring, they might surprise me and put on some growth.