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Bramble attack










This is the year of getting rid of the brambles that grow so well around the farm. Like weeds you turn your back (probably for a year or two if truth be known) and your left with a jungle of vicious lengths of brambles that have wound their way round trees and bushes.

So we have trimmed, secateured, sheared, pulled, machete and chainsawed (the later two by farmer J not me, not really allowed sharp objects as a few years back i managed to cut through the electric hedge trimmer cable (and live to tell the tale) so best if i stick to secateurs.

It is beginning to look a lot tidier, yet to have a bonfire to get pay back for all those thorns that implanted themselves in our skin and scratches left. Farmer J's arms look like he has done a bit of self harming, unlike me who wears long thick suede gloves that come up half way to your elbows, which sadly now have a hole in one finger which i am reminded of each time i wear them he has a girly white leather normal size pair.

We had chicken helpers, after the hard work had been done the girls enjoyed a bit of foot scraping for bugs to eat. I wonder if master C and miss F will enjoy themselves as much when they return this weekend to see the veggie patch that needs attention.
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