Here in California, we grow things by sticking 'em in the ground and then jumping back sharpish, before they chuck us under the chin like the impertinent things they are.
Now I should go and help Katherine with the trellising for my boysenberries. Which have also taken me by surprise, rather, because they are a relative of the blackberry, and my English soul still wants stubbornly to insist that the blackberry is an autumn fruit. Here in CA, they are creatures of early summer, and their season now is ending. It's bizarre, I tell you. Also, hot. The cloud'n'rain of the last two days has entirely slipped away, and we are back to baking, yay!
To close, because picture-posts are never justified without pictures of the boys, here they are being unwontedly good, tho' sleepsome:
and here, being unwontedly good and not sleepsome at all, for there was a birdie in the road: