A message was broadcast at work today that we were are all to tidy up our work areas and remove any pictures that others might find offensive. A colleague responded by sending out an example of an ‘offensive’ picture.
This cartoon goes back to a time about 8 years ago when I was out walking my dog and found a patch of ripe damsons in a thicket at the top of a hill. I was busily filling my face when I got stung on the leg. Before I could even spit out the damson stone I was stung again, and again, and in a matter of seconds I found myself in the middle of a swarm of wasps angry with me for eating their damsons.
I quickly moved away from the thicket and left most of the wasps where they were, but some followed me and I could feel them under my shirt and crawling up the legs of my shorts, stinging me as they went. As I ran down the hill I tore off my clothes as quickly as I could to rid myself of the wasps.
When I told the story to my workmates next day, one of them, Ian, was quick to put pencil to paper and drew this cartoon.
The plum and green gage season is just around the corner and before long they will be available by the bucket load absolutely free for anyone who cares to seek them out. With the first of the green gages appearing in the shops, I thought it time I reacquainted myself with their gorgeous flavour with this plum and green gage tart.
Driving from Snape to Orford the other day my eye was caught by a roadside sign. I’d passed it a hundred times before, but this time it had something to say. It said ‘Loganberries’. The sun was out, the day was warm, I had time on my hands and I thought to myself, “Why not?”.
The fruit farm is a family-run business producing top-quality fruit . The small shop is run as self-service with options for pre-picked or pick your own. I decided on the latter and simply bought some empty punnets.
As I approached the loganberry filed, I met a man flaked out on the grass in the shade of a large tree. He was quite obviously puffing and needed to cool off. But with what breath he could spare, he kindly advised me that the first three rows were the best bet as the rest had been picked the previous day.
I never actually saw or heard the man’s wife, but I did hear the man encouraging her to stop picking. “How much more do you want? Surely you’ve got enough by now.”
Half an hour later I could hear a commotion by the entrance to the field. “We can’t take all that!”, exclaimed the man, “There’s of fifty quid’s worth there.” Later he said, ” No way I can carry all that.” Then, “I’m not making two trips to the car!” and so it went on.
It’s fair to say that still having a number of jars of loganberry jam from last year I rather overdid it, too, but there’s always something you can do with ripe, fresh fruit. This is my loganberry chocolate tart.
Busy with work commitments, I was in danger of letting the rest of my precious harvest go to waste, so I decided to purée the remaining fruit and save it for another day, when time would allow me to create something tasty with it.