Some gardeners have neat and tidy raspberry beds. The rest of us have jungles that result in scratches and lacerations.
And everything is ripening at once.
I am officially frightened of my fridge.
When I open the door to grab anything I am confronted by bowls and bowls of berries that Need Attending.
I’ve picked blackcurrants redcurrants and whitecurrants and jostaberries. But have so far only made five jars of blackcurrant jam. I’m freezing like mad.
But speaking of madness.
I went up to the market with a basket of flowers and came back with yet more work.
I am such a sucker for a succulent apricot. If pushed I would say they are my favourite stone fruit. And when you only pay six euros for eight kilos one can’t resist. But the clock is ticking – they are ripe and going over, hence the bargain price. These are from Stéphane’s trees down at Beauchastel.
And I’m gorging on them. Stewed apricots for breakfast (I cook them with last year’s elderflower syrup instead of sugar), and of course jam.
If you are at a loose end, do come by and stick on the labels for me. I have no time to spare for such frivolous jobs.
Ooh, an update. I bet you were wondering all about my oak bank work. The mulch has been lovingly lavished.
And I have weeded and weeded and bagged up all the mess. I can’t believe there is such a volume of plant matter of the unwanted variety from this one bank.
I will use some of them to build up the edge of the oak bank. Once the wall has been repaired and built. But not in this heat.
Here is another 830pm task.
Filling the boot with rocks. I’m stockpiling ready for a bit of wall work. But it is a snatched job. I’d much rather be taking part in the gentler art of fruit picking. And shoving them in the fridge.