Jasmine on the terrace. Actually it’s the next door neighbour’s but it drapes over the wall onto the northern end of our terrace, and the scent knows no bounds.
It’s not the only one of our flowering shrubs that technically belongs to the neighbour. So do the oleander and the bougainvillea. We (read J) trim the bougainvillea when it gets sky high along the southern wall of the terrace. But its roots are in the garden next door.
Imagine next door values the flowery screen as much as we do.
And in our building the flat next door belongs to our Russian friend, Aleksander. He's not here a lot, and in fact intends to sell. Think his wife would prefer a getaway somewhere near Sochi, on the Black Sea.
We’re on our way down to the shop to pick up a few more groceries when we see him walking up the hill waving. Hadn’t realised that he was in residence, though it was obvious someone had been doing work on his flat. He’s here until the 30th when he is to meet his wife in St Petersburg to celebrate their anniversary.
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