candy

The lawn has given up, it is a parched and bleached shadow of its former self, the earth compacted and giving way in places to grassless patches of what will eventually become a dustbowl. We have sandy soil that desiccates with the slightest hint of warmth. Out the front, on the track, we get tiny dust devils as Pete flies in, electric motor whirring full tilt, appearing out of the blur like the cavalry arriving in some Western.

I must wash the windows.

sweet peas

Bringing much needed solace in the face of a yellow lawn are the deliriously heady sweet peas. Absolute knock out, slap in the chops perfume. They are no more than a foot as yet, and have a whole pole up which to grow, but they are kicking off the season with great promise.

In other news, two huge and juicy grapefruits arrived, and stared balefully at me from the kitchen counter, alerting me to their uneaten existence. Something had to be done.

I have had time to consider how to get hold of things during lockdown, and apparently our milkman can bring all manner of goods. So, an organic fruit & veg box is delivered every Saturday along with 4 pints of milk. He also does grow-bags, which are a precious commodity here in Surrey, but they come in a separate delivery so no sense in that.

As per said grapefruit, another consideration has been working out what to make with what comes, I remember some years ago giving up on a box, as I had neither the time nor inclination to work out what to do with the celeriac that arrived every week over the course of a month. The guilt was intense.

Do you remember when you wouldn't have known what a celeriac was, because you didn't have a tiny computer on which to find out at any second of the day?

candied grapefruit

The baleful grapefruit were cut open and turned out to be ruby, sumptuous ruby, making for a lovely pink juice. The peels I boiled in sugar for several hours. Now we have candied grapefruit in the fridge.

Who knew that so much could be done with food?

I throw so much away when I'm working and whatnot.

For shame.


Tomorrow - the judgmental oranges, as they arrived in the previous week's box and may mutiny.