Rained and thundered yesterday, pretty much all day. Apart from the odd check to see how the cubes were getting on, and some minor adjustments to the wire ‘tricklers’, not much doing, other than keeping the stove going and catching up with my book (‘The Corn King and the Spring Queen’, Naomi Mitchison – magnificent!).

I did, however, write up the results of my tree audit. We have:

74 trees total

58 almonds, of which:
28 mature
12 well-established
18 saplings

12 plum/almond hybrids, of which:
11 mature
1 sapling

1 mature plumtree

1 well-established fig

1 sapling mandarin

12 olives, of which:
11 saplings
1 mature

There are about half a dozen terraces still to clear, all of which, so far as I can tell, have olive saplings on them, so this count will be updated in due course.

Went for a sherbet with the Brig in the evening, and put the world to rights over rather too many glasses of hierbas.

Today dawned bright and sunny, and I was up…well, not with the lark! Last night’s indulgence left me decidedly woozy, and with a sticky residue in my mouth. Just the day for some heavy labour with the pickaxe. I’m toying with the idea of getting a couple of goats, and so the first step is clearing and levelling a plot to grow feed oats on.

First, the easy bit – pegging out the plot itself, to ensure that it ends up being reasonably square and level:

Right, let’s get started:

Phew! Time for a fag break… Damn, run out of tobacco. Quick trip on the moto into town, dropping into R and V’s on the way back – well, what a coincidence, it’s lunchtime. Awfully sorry, I didn’t realise…well, if you’re sure…how very kind, thank you, I’d love to join you for lunch. An excellent cold lunch, rivetting and intelligent conversation (as ever), then a brandy coffee, and back to work:

Well, that looks roughly level. A quickly-assembled rock retaining wall to stop the freshly-dug soil being washed away, and I think we can call it a day:

I know I keep harping on about these ground flies, but they really are an issue. I got a hell of a bite on my left hand today, which is now very swollen and stiff. I’m really loth to resort to shop-bought chemical repellent, but, sadly, I can’t see an option. Marc’s suggestion of using the water from boiled pine needles is ineffective; either I’m using insufficient quantities of needles, or I’m boiling it too long, or something. Bloody nuisance, but into every ointment some fly must fall.

That sunset looks a bit forbidding; more rain tomorrow, I reckon. Which is fine – the cubes have a long way to go before they’re filled; and at least I’ve been spared the gales.