Out of the city, on a hilltop with nothing to block the sun, sunsets sweep across the farm in broad bands of colour.
A couple of weeks back, Brent took to some of the lakeside laurel trees with a chain-saw. With this thinning out of the vegetation the groundcover can get some sun, and I get a better view down to the Pyrenees.
There’s still a lot of yard work for me to do, but I’m still getting over my head cold of nearly three weeks vintage and haven’t been out of the house much. The best I managed for two weeks is what I call “slipper gardening” which involves me wandering around outside in my ugg boots with a pair of secateurs and attacking weeds and branches before all hell breaks loose in Spring.
In recent days I’ve returned to collecting firewood in the vineyards, which makes Munson very happy. As soon as I sit outside my front door to don boots and work gloves, he’s at my side, unable to contain himself. As much he loves being outside, he much prefers to be outside with me and has shown no inclination to wandering off again.