Fresh hops. Out of my garden.
I harvested them the day before yesterday.

There was some harvesting going on in Poperinge too, last week.
We were watching it, alongside the street.

We found some hopflowers next to where we were standing.
Eat it, Bob said.
So I did.

Everything was hops, the rest of the day.

This is the warming room by the way. It’s 28 degrees there.
The hops must be dried. So we can use it as decoration in our pub.