Valentine’s Day turned out to be a grim day for me. I started to write a blog entry about it, but that was depressing me so I have given up on it.
When I get down, I like to stop my brain from thinking. One of the best ways to do that is to carry out some relatively heavy manual labour. So I went down into our meadow and carved out an adventure trail.
Our plot is immense and can be split into two parts. The third nearest the house can roughly be termed lawn. It is not fine trimmed, but it looks like lawn. The two thirds that are farthest away can only be termed meadow. In the Algarve, the growing season is winter. The meadow was cut and baled for hay in summer 2017, but it is nearly knee-high in parts.
I attacked this meadow with a brute of a lawn mower to carve out an adventure trail for our little grandchildren. The trail has orange trees, a lemon tree, flowers, white-winged butterflies, a goat pen, a grand vista of our neighbour’s impressive garden plus other botanical features.
I have carved out a rough trail but I need to go over it at least once more. Then I can move onto another project.
I want a poppy patch, to commemorate 100 years since the Great War ended in November 1918. I live in a house called Farm Of The Poppy. So I want a poppy patch to celebrate the end of WW1.
My research says that poppies don’t flower in November, but this is the Algarve, where everything grows out of season. Who knows.
Poppy seeds have already been purchased in Inglaterra and should arrive at lunchtime today. I simply need to get off my rear end and dig my poppy patch.
And get planting.
But we now have an adventure trail.