There was a real glut of fruit in the garden this year. The plum tree, which seems to live a charmed life and has survived the trunk splitting under the weight of fruit, produced more fruit than ever. Plums found their way into various concoctions but I’ve no idea why I thought it would be a good idea to make a double quantity of chutney. The industrial volume nearly defeated me. Even so most of the plums rotted on the ground as it was a good plum season all round. I knew there was no hope of off-loading much when GPD came home with a bag of plums he’d been given by someone else.
I’m all on my own for a few days this week, with the boys in St Andrews and husband deep south on a school reunion. It feels quite strange – I don’t have to take anyone anywhere and can cook and eat what I want when I want. So instead of cooking dinner at the normal time last night, I went into the tropical rain forest that is masquerading as our garden and cut the grass, filled the brown wheelie bin and picked all the currants and gooseberries. I excavated the compost bins from a blackberry jungle – goodness knows what’s happened to the raspberries – and tried to identify the location of the pond. I know it’s there, as I dug it. Continue reading →