So its Happy Families again
with the wife safely back from Foreign Parts, luggage intact and first off the carousel. (The Luggage, that is-the wife walked from the plane) So a great weight of domestic responsiblty off Huttonian's shoulders, No unaccompanied visits to Sir Morrison's. Free now to concentrate on the soft fruit (660 strawberries to date) They are suddenly all coming on stream Rasberries, Worcester berries, black and red currants and even the Gooseberries prematuraly ejaculating* all over the place urged on by global warming. I hope the wife can take over the strawberry picking as I am fed up with crawling under the nettting, under threat of imminent atack from frustrated blackbirds, feeling through wet straw (it actually rained yesterday) for the more elusive ones and soaking my clean trousers with the juice of those I have missed and subsequently knelt on. And the joy of standing in the 38C of the Greenhouse watching the tomatoes ripen and using the new hose attachment gizmo with its scotch mist spray setting. Rural living at its best.
* Not sure if this is the right word. Blog-ed