Trying to garden in the present weather is a little tiring. That doesn't stop the grass growing or the weeds getting out of hand, so we've been busy, but now its time for a break. Somewhere there's another storm brewing. We've had several in the last few days. Being high up means some spectacular lightning of course, and it is a trifle cooler than down in the valleys.
The Monk, in a fetching wide brimmed hat, gardening jeans, shirt and sunscreen, has been extracting Bindweed by the bagful. If you could market the stuff and eat it, he and Mausi could probably make a fortune. Our garden is, thankfully, relatively free of it, but we are surrounded by forests and fields, and they are full of it. Plus, it migrates ... Mausi, with much greater knowledge (as you'd expect) of flowering plants, gardens and their care, has dealt with the tending and nurturing. Now the grass is cut, the bindweed hacked into submission and the roots dug out, the edges trimmed and the garden looks cared for and pretty again.
But now its time to contemplate getting the BBQ going and grilling some of Herr Wusts finest sausages ... Preferably before the next thunderstorm arrives.
Rahmstorf’s Third Trick
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