The right kind of snow

Now that’s what I call a good blizzard. Snow, wind, but it did not deter. I surged out to the prairie on the lower terraces, cranked the strimmer and off I went.

It’s a bit like putting batteries in a Duracell bunny.   Despite the discomfort, strimming is easily the most satisfying thing you can do on a farm.   And it’s hard to stop.

Well, harvesting fruit and veg is probably top of my satisfaction list, but the transformation from weed infested jungle to sward cannot be ignored. I love the neat and tidy parkland appearance of this part of the farm.

You can’t even see the forest of bracken that has crept in from the next door forest and inches ever closer. Or the brambles that are just about everywhere. And I even took a break from strimming to get out the secateurs and cut down the Spanish room (cistus).

Once the painkillers have kicked in, the lunch digested and cups of tea imbibed I’ll tell you how happy I am.

I even had enough petrol in the tank to do the sloping back above the courtyard.   When I have endless leisure I want to remove all the soil from these lovely rocks and allow the feature of the granite to show through.

The ground cover that is blue festuca grass can be a bit dull to the eye once you see the entire mountain is covered in it.  But a short back and sides haircut is a good start. When am I ever going to have time to scrape soil off rocks?