The good thing about having a jungle for a garden is that at certain times of the year, it turns into a blackberry patch! I have just won the All Brittany Prize for the most blackberries picked in the shortest time. I've been meaning to hack myself a path down the garden to check on them for some while, and today was the day. So armed with secateurs, a colander, and a dachshund puppy on a lead (for fear of her going into, but never coming out of the bramble patch), I have just picked a kilo of prime berries, not the mouldy ones, not the unripe ones, not all the ones that fell off into the undergrowth because I didn't have a hand free to steady the branch I was picking off (if you understand my English), but the enormous, really ripe kind that you never see in hedgerows because someone has always got there before you. But this is my private patch.
And this after having given a second coat to the bathroom ceiling and plastered as much of the bathroom walls as the bucket contained (said to be 7m², but nearer 5m² I reckon - I shall have to get more).
So you will forgive me if I sit down with a book for the rest of the afternoon and have blackberries and cream for my tea.