Today, at Old Sleningford Farm, it was one of my favourite workdays: picking soft fruit. In my case, that meant scrambling through the nettles to get every last little blackcurrant. (There was no obligation for me to do this – I enjoy the challenge.)
At the farm, they have blackcurrant bushes in their tens. In comparison, I have one which is only in its second year and has been somewhat stunted by an aphid attack. Clearly, they weren’t remotely interested in the marigolds nearby.
Nonetheless, its few flowers have produced a handful of berries. I am therefore thrilled to bits.