After some attendance, the grape-vine is looking healthier this year than it has for a while. There is a cucumber plant slowly doing its thing as well as tomoat plants.
A garden on a bank is not the easiest thing to weed.
Much easier to grow what you can in a pot (of some description).
The garden's Novembver splurge has died down. Like me, it is taking a breather before its December splash.
Strawberries beside the rhubarb, which is telling me it likes its new space.
The strawberries have been netted up, stalling any birds eyeing up the ripening strawberries.
Of course when I am attending to the garden, it means I am not writing. One cannot do both. At the moment the garden is winning. For a season.
Amazing what a woman with a pick-axe can do - the split stone-steps are now together after I levered one of them closer to the other. About fifteen years ago, after much effort - read brute strength and many hands - and help from my extended family, they were rescued from my childhood home that is now long gone. My father's collection of Orepuki gemstones went into these steps.
A rare sight these days, the two cats sharing the same sleeping space. Aggie doesn't usually tolerate her big bro. Grommet in such close proximity.