Catching the last rays

The first of many

As I was sitting in the garden this morning I caught the eye of my new neighbour looking out of her bedroom window. We haven't met yet, but I gave her what I hoped was a cheery wave. I remembered just a few seconds too late that brandishing a knife at a stranger while wearing swimming goggles and latex gloves might be rather disconcerting for her - unless she could see that I was peeling onions ready for pickling.

Yes, my green-fingered husband continues to bring tonnes of crops home from the allotment for me to process, pickle and otherwise preserve. We are just about coming to the end of the tomatoes-with-everything season and are entering the realms of 'what are we having with the squash this evening?'

Don't look back!

So I'm taking advantage of the glorious September sun to peel a few things, with my back to the unweeded border. Looking at the flowerbed that has recently been treated to a tidy-up, I'm pleased to see that the self-set sweetpeas are still flowering. I've had free blooms for weeks. 

My neighbours have recently culled the rampant ivy that is threatening to overwhelm their garden and had started to invade ours, too. The trouble is that now they have cleared the fence panels, it has become clear that in places it was only this tenacious creeper that was holding them up . Husband is resolved to fix things; he has just announced his intention to fetch 'some screws and a hammer'. Interesting combination. Should I be worried, do you think?