Languid

thursday flowersAh yes, Wednesday.  My favourite day. I pick flowers, fill the house with blooms and make up bunches as gifts for my friends at Vernoux market.

But no such luck on the languid pose all day.  I did my usual two hours of strimming first thing.

This time it was the orchard.  A lot of the grasses were lying flat, so strimming was a barrel of laughs.

But I have perfected the technique of being able to clear the blade of twisted grass without having to turn it off.  The strimmer works brilliantly right now. No problem with the spark plug or the motor. It roars into life about second go and goes and goes. front door flowers

It lasts longer than I do.

I sorted the orchard (you can tell I’ve powered up on a cup of tea) and then moved down to the steep bank on the road, and finished up with an extra strim of the part of the terrace near the track down to the lower terraces.

After that I lost the will to live and trudged back to the house.

It’s the raking that’s the worse. It feels like housework.

after orchardThree days of strimming and I’m ready to put it away for a bit. Well, I’m dead keen to do the second terrace below the road, but I’m not sure it will happen this week.

That’s the annoying thing about having a farm on a mountain top.  You tend to look out the windows and look down on terraces and spot things that need doing.

The second terrace is crying out for a spot of landscaping. It’s not flat enough to put a mower on it, and there are too many big rocks and stones in the way.  One day I’ll sort it.

But not today.