Pretty much confined to barracks here in hot ‘n humid Delhi, news from friends overseas is a literal breath of fresh air.
The lovely Kathakoli Dasgupta, who is based in Lancashire in the ‘ol home country sent me this lovely message last night, after her Sunday run:
“What I saw during my run today… Fruit trees and blackberry brambles.
The husband has been on kitchen duty this weekend. It was Moroccan lamb tagine & couscous last night (delish!).
This morning when I went down to the kitchen, I saw him working his way through a couple of buckets of apples.
We have had a bumper crop this year owing to some wet but warm weather last few months. And it’s harvest time now.
So I went for my run, leaving him incharge of freezing, stewing, making chutney and crumble, as well as washing the remaining lot before putting them in the fruit rack.
Whether it was my territorial instinct kicking in, or whether it was my appreciation of the work he was doing back home, today I seemed to notice the fruit trees along my usual run route in the village.
Plums… pears… more apples… blackberries….
Dave says he enjoyed blackberry picking as a kid—which his Nain then used to make into finger licking jam.
Ummmm may be time to set the little kid free again and encourage the adult to develop jam making skills.”
This is exactly the kind of post to make me feel nostalgic, you know, Katha.
Nothing says England and autumn and childhood quite blackberry picking.
We always went blackberry picking when we were children, and then we all ate blackberry and apple jam for months 🙂
On a recent September trip back, staying with very grown up friends, we all happily went blackberry picking – such fun!
Thanks, as ever, Katha and #keeprunning #keepinspiring