Posh cloche

The trough in the courtyard is boiling with bubbles. Quite a curious sight. Does that mean the water tank up the top is overflowing? Or there is a toad caught in the hose? Nup, just amazing volumes of water. I wasn’t alone up there. Plodding up to the forest I found my movements being carefully monitored by a lovely deer. The wildlife here is just so intriguing. Foxes, deer but no wild boar this year. The mulberry tree below the house hums with activity. The birds eat the white sickly sweet mulberries and knock down extra ones to the ground. The foxes come by around nine to eat the fallen ones. The deer come by in the afternoon to do the same.

How much more pruning can this mock mock orange take? I had another go at it today, and it still looks hulking, particularly for a shrub that flowers but has no scent. Still it was fun to be into the east garden at last. It was chief on my lists of tasks this August. Overgrown with ivy and brambles (I have the mighty gauntlets ready) and dying to be sorted.

And once that was done, I was able to sit back and watch Bernard make my lovely cloches. I had bought the wood, painted it with the help of Clara last week, and cut the lengths of hose pipe that make up the struts. But I didn’t have the drill bit or the precision drilling) to put them together. Perfect foils for the hungry wildlife. The old cloches which were just plastic were definitely a bit sweaty under the hot August sun.

Bliss.