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Funereal gladioli in bloom in the greenhouse garden. Will we move on to a blight-free afterlife?
I have to say, adversity has been great fodder for this newsletter. Let’s face it, we like to laugh at it; it’s a form of self-preservation. There’s nothing funny about unremitting success.
That said, we came home from a few days off the farm (at the ocean, no less) to deer-trimmed brambles that were just about to fruit; a hen who went urban and decided to lay her eggs on concrete (no survivors); a cat who has decided that field mouse taste better with tossed heirloom tomatoes on the side; and a greenhouse carpeted with leathery, pulp-less grape skins, the tell-tale bingeing of a fussy raccoon (who then washed his paws in the fountain, no doubt). (laughter). - Mb
Tags: late blight
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