Bottoms

Udderly wonderful bottoms.

They greeted me as I drew up at the cowshed this morning, after gardening with G, to collect some of these girls’ milk. I thanked them profusely (and loudly) in song as I carefully turned the tap (to the left, out of shot) to release the creamy magic into my churn.

Back home - and after pasteurising the milk - it was an afternoon in my garden. 

I had planned to keep broadbeans for seed, but as I cleared the bed it became clear that every pod I had left to dry on the plants has been eaten - presumably by a possum. I guess it knows a good thing when it sees it: packed full of goodness. I shall have to buy some after all.

It was with some pent up frustration that I split firewood later on!

The tea bushes are planted and as soon as I turned my back the blackbirds were sticking their beaks into the bed looking for worms and other wrigglers in the rich damp compost. So I’ve had to net it. Otherwise compost would be spread all over the place and the tea bush roots exposed.

Possums. Blackbirds. Pests both.