About a month or so ago, a friend hosted a food swap at her house. Six of us turned up and it was lovely lovely lovely. I took elderberry champagne (made from the bush in the garden), a tonne of lettuce and rocket. I returned home with bread rolls, cake (I ate the biscuit there), two green courgette plants, two cape gooseberry plants, radishes, broad beans, green tomato ketchup and a jar of chutney. Aren't people clever!
Now there is another swap being arranged for September, at peak picking time. Unfortunately our garden is not offering much in the way of picking, or it seems that way. I keep watching Gardeners World on telly and feeling somewhat glum about our garden in the light of their amazing creations (where on earth do they find time?). It is not a good mindset. Positively, we are eating courgettes of both colours, raspberries, carrots and potatoes, which is a whole heap better than nothing. But I am still in a quandary over what to offer at the upcoming food swap. Husband's beer is still flat despite resuscitation attempts (he blames to ancient barrel seals), so can't take any. The blackberries round the corner might hold the answer. In muffin form.
Ooo, on the subject of blackberries, there's a pear tree and a grape vine growing outside the local school. This year we shall be foraging without shame! (But keep it under your hat or my food swapping pals will be swiping the harvest!)
It having now been half an hour since Reginald fed and been upright, I shall risk putting him down to sleep. It's 02.30 and bed calls.