I cut the brambles by the roadside while waiting for the plumber. Driving down the road is a scratchy business as the bramble strimming has been a bit neglected. Some had some fruit on the tips, but not enough to marvel at their tremendous arching growth.
Have been putting it off, but finally went down to the vineyard to observe the grapes. In two words, not good. Can’t even see many bunches of grapes on the vines. I’m cheating with this picture; it’s the only good one of the whole vineyard. Is it me? Is it the grapes? I felt saddened that I had put in so many hours of work this year into this patch of land. But it probably won’t produce many results. So that’s agriculture. I’ve been beguiled by the success of the vegetable beds.
Then more stick chipping later in the afternoon, oh mindless task, but easier on a cooler day.
And we weeded the terrace below the pool. Out goes the persistent weeds which aren’t pretty, kept are the grasses that naturally thrive. We broadcast seed the white grasses and this gentle rain is going to hopefully help them along. As a backup I always have the ones I have been germinating in the potting shed. One particular weed had enticing black juicy berries. Had no idea what it was. Could it be edible? Certainly looked possible. So I nibbled a tiny bit of one and reminded myself I must ask Nicolas when I see him next time what the name of the weed is.
(One week later and I had my result. Belladonna. Oh dear.)