In a week's time we will be at Rydal. During this time, if they are not to go to waste, our blackcurrants will need picking. I have made a start on them, but they ripen at different rates. Becky will be our chief picker, and by way of bribe, I opened a bottle of blackcurrant wine for her.
Claire, Rachel, Becky and I sat in the garden, drinking wine, eating pickles and ham, and enjoying the brief summer we are experiencing. This wine was rich and port-like, and I have convinced Becky that she has a vital job whilst we are away.