Unbought Delicacies: A sad tale of gooseberries

Sunday, 21 July 2013

A sad tale of gooseberries

I have three gooseberries. That is all. On Friday I had 3 large bushes dripping with green gooseberries, and two with red. all gone, bar these three. Thought at first might be badger/fox, but on weighing up the evidence and thinking about it all afternoon, am now, sadly, convinced it was two-footed predators. There will be hell to pay if I ever find out who it was, followed by a prosecution. I'm now considering getting geese or llamas, possibly both. Sad beyond ken :( x

3 comments:

menopausalrunninggirl said...: Hi, this happened to us a few years ago- one day we had hundreds of lovely gooseberries, the next the bushes were stripped- it was pigeons! There is an old joke that you can tell when your gooseberries are ripe- the day the pigeons eat them all! I feel your pain- last year my feathered friends stripped my jewel like red currants! I beat the blighters to it today, but every year it is a stand off as to who can get to the fruit first!; 21 July 2013 at 22:19
Unknown said...: Yes it's the same here! Intruders of the feathered variety - blackbirds, magpies, pigeons.; 22 July 2013 at 11:16
MrsL said...: animals are easier to deal with psychologically to my mind; humans ought to know better and treat others as they expect to be treated, makes me sad
x; 22 July 2013 at 11:29

I have found such joy

I have found such joy in simple things;
A plain, clean room, a nut-brown loaf of bread,
A cup of milk, a kettle as it sings,
The shelter of a roof above my head,
And in a leaf-laced square along the floor,
Where yellow sunlight glimmers through the door.
I have found such joy in things that fill
My quiet days: a curtain's blowing grace,
A potted plant upon my window sill,
A rose, fresh-cut and placed within a vase;
A table cleared, a lamp beside a chair,
And books I long have loved beside me there.
Oh, I have found such joys I wish I might
Tell every woman who goes seeking far
For some elusive, feverish delight,
That very close to home the great joys are:
The elemental things- old as the race,
Yet never, through the ages, commonplace.

~ Grace Noll Crowell

Ideas for handmade gifts

Small knitteds - gloves, scarves, hot water bottle covers, hats, tea cosies, phone covers, little toys,,cushion covers, bags. Some of these can be felted/fulled for extra interest.
Edibles - chutneys and jams, pickles, nice teas in a vintage/retro tin, sweeties, toffees, mustard, home made wine and liqueurs, home dried fruits, ketchups.
For the home - trimmed tea towels, handknitted dishcloths, quilted wallhangings, small samplers, restored picture frames, pot pourri, lavender bags, covered coathangers, little scented bags for hanging on handles, framed photos of family,etc you've taken yourself, pincushion,needle book, scissor keeper, book of promises (eg babysitting, 1 hour's housework, the ironing, etc)
Bathtime - homemade soap, bath oils, bath salts, knitted washcloths, herbal bags for the bath, hand sewn toilet bags, trimmed hand towels, homemade lotions and potions packed in pretty jars and bottles.
For the garden - home saved seed in handmade decorated packets; homemade handcream, exfoliating soap, wheat bag for those digger's aches and pains!

Handmade books, personalised printed notepaper and envelopes.
Hamper of bits and bobs from the above lists, packed in a pretty lined basket.

I'll add some more as and when I think of them; These can be used all year round and easily tailored to the recipient - everyone loves a homemade gift. :)

Inspiring thoughts.............

I saw a man, an old Cilician, who occupied an acre or two of land that no one wanted.
A patch not worth the ploughing, unrewarding for flocks, unfit for vineyards;
he, however, by planting here and there among the scrub cabbages or white lilies and verbena and flimsy poppies, fancied himself a king in wealth, and coming home late in the evening, loaded his board with unbought delicacies.
Virgil

I had no theories to prove. I merely wanted to try living by my own hands, independently as far as possible from a system of division of labour in which the participant loses most of the pleasure of making and growing things for himself. I wanted to bring in my own fuel and smell its sweet smell as it burned in the hearth I had made. I wanted to grow my own food, or forage after it. In short I wanted to do as much as I could for myself, because I had already realised from partial experience the inexpressible joy of doing so.

Harlan Hubbard, Shantyboat: A River Way of Life

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Sunday, 21 July 2013

A sad tale of gooseberries

3 comments: