The never-ending summer never ends
Hello again. I appreciate the fact that you're prepared to put yourself through yet more photos of my slowly emerging terrace. I look at the photos and find myself totally bewildered as to why on Earth it's taking so abominably long to create. I promise that I set to work on it every day, all day*. The initial harvesting of the rocks from the ground and from the ruin takes quite a while, and constitutes what I would call 'heavy labour'. I actually bend my knees and tighten up my core in preparation to lift particularly 'big boys'; sometimes it's touch and go as to whether or not I'll get it off the ground and into the wheelbarrow. Something painful happened today: while standing between the wheelbarrow handles, I plonked a large rock in the barrow; the barrow tipped over, its handles flinging me over sideways too. Why is it that if you fall over in the countryside, it always involves either nettles or brambles? This mishap involved both. Then there are