Bramley apples on the ground. I can make apple cakes with the windfalls.

The geese are doing their morning callisthenics

We are trying to “fox proof” the orchard chicken run. To that effect, yesterday, Jeremy and Chris put up high posts and attached chicken wire to the posts above the existing barrier. If Mr Fox wants to get in he will have to climb high or dig deep. I was detailed to tie the top and bottom lengths of chicken wire this afternoon ……….and I got stung, again, by nettles. Twice in one day is a bit much and I am glowing again!

From nettle stings. I spent the afternoon weeding the first two rows of artichokes and three rows of tayberries and raspberries and gooseberries. That meant pulling out bind weed and nettles and other unwanted plants. But it’s the nettles that caused the most problems.

I just looked up bindweed and see that it is related to Morning Glory. I can’t deny that bindweed has a pretty, pale pink flower but it must learn to confine itself and not grow all over the garden and the plants! ,Amongst the cut down artichokes I found one that had begun to flower with magnificent, purple spikes.

We had been expecting a visit, this afternoon, from a Yemeni photographer who lives in New York but he hadn’t realised that the cost of an Uber from North London to The Gables would, as he put it, “blow a hole in his budget.” I wasn’t best pleased with his last minute call but used the time to pick plums, make jam and tackle the long overdue weeding. So, alls well that ends well.

Jeremy’s favourite is strawberry, mum’s is blackcurrant and grandson likes raspberry but my late dad always preferred plum jam.

These jars were made with cherry plums – and there are plenty more in the paddock. The Victoria plums and the Damsons aren’t quite ready to pick.

They took fright when I was weeding the duck run this afternoon. I would never hurt them, much less eat them.

Big, beautiful skies and big, beautiful begonias (In a pot on a garden wall).

With a touch of warmth and sunshine

Now that the goslings have vacated the shed in the chicken run, the Orpington’s, Bantie and the Nanny white hen (who took over looking after the goslings when their mothers left them) have taken over those living quarters. This might make bed time a bit easier than it has been of late.

A treat was in store at her flat when three generations of females sat on her sofa and the youngest read us a story!