Jammy

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I have been scouring the field margins, searching for juicy fat blackberries. It seems juicy fat ones are in short supply, or perhaps I am too late? I waited for the rains to "plumpen" them.
I find berries stewing on the stove the most aromatic and sweet occupation, it soothes.

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Pouring over cookbooks, divining the best use for my black autumn jewels...remembering blackberry slump a hot stew of sweet berries dolloped with mascarpone and topped with a  lemon spiked scone mixture. Sarah Raven has paired down version (minus the scone topping) in her garden cookbook, baked blackberries and mascarpone, as demonstrated by Rose Gray at Sarah's cookery school.

I must confess I then began craving some warm jam and went off on an internet guided tour of recipe research. I am so glad I did as I stumbled upon Juls' kitchen and the joy that is September Jam, oh how the name appeals to me and Jul's description of the grape harvest in Tuscany is a delight.

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And so September Jam perfectly solves the dilemma of too few blackberries, I shall be throwing in some grapes and other berries as she directs...and I don't begrudge the shortage if these chaps are having their fill!

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All of which brings me neatly round to a rather serendipitous find in the cow-shed yesterday afternoon. Whilst the Faraways were here we rootled out a big old baggage stuffed with what I believed to be Little Brother Faraway treasures...photographs, etchings, games and the like. Sure enough we found lots to giggle over and the memories of a shared childhood swirled around us like paper streamers, tickling us and awakening long forgotten things.
Yesterday Mr. Lane and I began our Autumn clear up. We began to move things back into the Cow-Shed, I tripped over the baggage, quietly cursing it. Bending down to move it out of the way I realised we hadn't quite emptied it. I pulled out a long forgotten box of ink kisses, written onto cards given to me throughout my childhood, carefully squirreled away by little Lane girl.
All the Leap Birthday's were there, carefully stored, all the beautifully illustrated cards given to me by my parents...and the special kisses, the cards sent just because I needed a little encouragement or love. My heart raced as I looked in wonder at each card...
"Is it here?"

...Oh my goodness here...safely stored at the very bottom of the pile...

HERE IT IS!

I have been remembering this card, visualising all the detail, the colour...pinks, mulberry, green and a pop of yellow. When we were in Devon a couple of weeks ago I took this photo...

..and in my minds eye I was thinking of a much loved card, long since lost, sent to a little girl by her Granny when she was eight years old to comfort her as she had suffered a very great sadness.

Kneeling on the floor of the cow-shed, starry eyed, she smiled just as she had back then. 

My childhood was illustrated by Arthur Rackham, Earnest Shepherd, Racey Helps, Beatrix Potter and Beshlie.

Being a noticer, every night I would gaze at my pictures, at the tiniest details and drift off into sleep in the company of woodland animals and fairytale characters. 

This was my favourite, Romany Wood by Beshlie.(There is a great archive of her work here )

And so, once again, comforted by a card sent more than 30 years ago...clever Granny perfect timing.

So here we are in October! "White Rabbbits" everyone, and "Hello" to you all.

Sarah 

-x-

The Hare and the Tortoise by Arthur Rackham

Slowly does it very time!