Saturday morning bliss

I want to tell you the bliss of this Saturday morning. My house smells of toast and coffee (strange, since I made neither toast nor coffee...still a good imagination will take you everywhere!). It really does smell good!

I have just been for a little tour of the garden under a sky fit for an African Queen. Barefoot in the dew...cool feet! hhhaaahhh...memories of camps everywhere...

This morning when I drew the curtain, I swear each blade of grass was nodding good morning and shining its dew drops at me.

In the corner of the garden, where the food growing experiment takes place, I am greeted by yet more tomatoes and runner beans: the only two foods which took part in the experiment. Seriously, I have never seen such a profuse crop on just one tomato plant; it must be a record, and the scientist in me says "you should not have gobbled them up without weighing them first"..."too late! too bad...!" says the greedy one. "Nothing like eating food straight from the plant I say!"

Talking of which: isn't it a great pity about the worms in blackberries? One has to be so careful not to let greed and hedonism have the upper hand! You see, in the lane at the back of my home, there are millions of blackberry bushes and the fruit there are just coming into their ripeness. Many pots of jam will be made.

How indredible, in the middle of a huge concrete city like Birmingham to have been blessed with a little patch of countryside, just for me!

I know why that is though! It's genetic: my young brother has told me of our family tree, on our father's side. It has been traced back to the 15th century and...they are all peasants! I knew it, I just knew it! No adventurers, no merchants, no dignitaries, no erudites....just illiterate peasants. And all and always in the same 20 square miles on the East of the river at Macon, in the Bresse region. The only remotely unusual thing is that the women of this line have names which are latinised, often ending in "a"...I have since found out the the Moores had invaded that region...so may be...we are all a little bit Moorish after all.

Talking of which : you will have guessed, breakfast awaits, no coffee and toast, but "ricore" and "rice cakes" (with jam... it goes without saying)

Have yourself a good day, wherever you are, and tap into the joy of existence...There's nothing like it, honest!

Jocelyne

PS and may be I'll get a letter from a friend in the post, as well...