Casting around for something to preserve, anything really, now that I've dusted off the maslin pan (love the name) because it's a real pain to try and get it back in the cupboard, I suddenly remembered those blackberries I had picked last autumn. Having just finished NHS work I sort of fell into a stupor of Rocky-like proportions and preserving anything was beyond me, so I had shoved them in the freezer and there they were awaiting their moment. Spiced Bramble Jelly it was, which leaves the kitchen looking like
an abbatoir and is very berry intensive, just two jars to show for all
that effort, but two very delicious jars they are.
I've been along the lane to check out this year's crop because there can be no such slacking now and everything's coming along nicely. It's been a funny year for the lane since resurfacing back in early June, because in their wisdom, South West Highways saw the need to massacre the hedge back to its roots and back to the earth in places, just as the birds were nesting and the wildflowers were approaching their peak. We protested in vain and too late, the damage was done and you wonder quite how that is allowed to happen in an Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty where you can't breathe without permission. With the massacre went all the colour and the bird life and we have been left waiting for something to reappear.
Despite its late reawakening I sense definite tinges of Autumn out there.
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