This week at the vineyard, the work was exactly the same as last week. To wit: tying young vines on to stakes. It's about as mundane as it sounds and funnily enough, therefore, doesn't make for particularly interesting writing. There were a few exciting moments, mind – the time when a ladybird crawled over my boot, for example, or the time when I thought I saw a frog but it turned out to be a stone. Other than that, however, it was the same agonisingly slow process, over and over again. I felt like a guinea-pig in an RSI study....