Munchies, but not by me

So much for the carrot crop. Someone beat me to it. Here I was swanning along, large wicker basket in hand plucking out things for dinner. In went the swiss chard, some green beans, yellow cherry tomatoes, lettuce. All going well. And then I thought; hmm, let’s see how those lovely carrots are doing. I could see the tops poking out above the soil a teensy bit and they looked mighty inviting.

But no. Hah. Was it the mole? The mole runs are quite extensive under this part of the garden. Was it a vole that has moved in if the mole moved out? Is it a voracious slurry of slugs working away at the roots? I just don’t know. But what I do know is dinner tonight does not contain any trace of the crunchy carrot.

I did find the first crop of blackberries ready and waiting. They will go into a tart when I get round to making them. But there are guests to entertain, potatoes to dig, lots of tending and attending. And even the novelty of reading a Swedish crime novel on the lounger beside the pool. Fancy. Actual leisure. What next?