It started well. We got a day’s harvesting in before the rain.
Now it’s onto all those farm jobs you save for a rainy day. Days. Week. Weeks. Surely not ‘summer’.
As for the locusts, they’ve arrived from the north, or hatched here, and make for a dodging dart to the clothes line.
You know the plague is here when a hopper lands on the edge of the bath and Elsie just says, ‘Oh hello Mr Grasshopper. He’s got long antennae. And stripes.’ And inches closer to his angled legs with her face and I hope he hops off in the other direction to save her hitting her head on the tap.
Onto a brighter note, I’ve made some online sales! Loving packaging up the goods and posting them off.
