Technicolour to shades of grey.

Yesterday was a full on technicolour and vista vision day. Bright sun, a warm whispering breeze and hedgerows festooned with glistening berries like fruit gums tipped out of a packet. Black, red, orange(almost) and green, a Kilo was soon gathered and added to a kilo of chopped apples and a pint and a bit of water, boiled up and strained overnight. They have become 4 jars of purple/black jelly, all ready to melt into buttery crumpets or be the jewels in jam tarts. A reminder of late summer days in the gloom of winter.

The sun shone for Ivy, it was a celebration of her first birthday, and it was all about blueberries and cake for her. She delights in her food and although cake is a treat fresh fruit, pepper sticks and plums were pounced upon with glee. She was delighted with the little tote bag filled with a few crocheted flowers and pom poms. The cardigan that I had feared would be a bit on the small side fitted her well, with a little growing room, so another will be on the needles soon.

Today is a shades of grey day, mainly because I have rhubarb wiped and chopped in the maslin pan. It sits there, under a pristine dressing of snowy white sugar, oh so slowly releasing its tart juices. Scattered throughout are a few nuggets of preserved ginger that have been chopped fine, every spoonful of the resulting jam should have at least one, almost fiery nib.

That will be the last pull of rhubarb this year, a sure sign that summer is on its way out. The outer tough stems are softening and bending, like tulips in a vase, and the leaves are crisping and changing colour. In a short time I will be piling the contents of the small compost bin over the plants, after I have lifted and split the bigger ones.

The apple boughs are bent double under the weight of fruit, so much so that I have had to thin them out. The rainfall has caused them to become quite large, even though not fully ripe the flesh is crisp, juicy and sweet.

One is being moved later this year to a more sheltered spot and a Damson will take its place. The area right at the top of the garden, which is scheduled to be cleared this autumn will (fingers crossed) hold another and possibly a Quince, although I have had visions of the dark purple damsons nestled up to some velvety soft greengages. 

There, I have cheered myself up no end writing that, I will have to have a search for the trees a bit later.

The Miette cardigan is growing nicely, I have put the sleeve stitches onto waste yarn and am a few rows into the body. 

I am planning another and will be yarn hunting tomorrow. Luckily Debs has a good stock of Aran weight yarn that I can squidge and squeeze through.

Dinner tonight is Toad in the Hole, the batter mix has been well beaten and is resting. The "sausage toads" are a glorious blend with apple and beetroot taking centre stage and I have some cider flavoured sauce to anoint the finished dish with. Peas and carrots will provide a splash of colour and there is a crumble for pudding, apple and blackerry, of course.

Now I do believe that it is Tea O'clock, with an oaty biscuit perhaps. Not to dunk, yeuk, biscuits should be enjoyed crisp and crumbly, not warm and soggy.

                TTFN                                                 Pam