I often find myself distracted in the kitchen. I’m supposed to be jamming. Making jam, not music. But the pigeons coo, the great tits see-saw whistle, the blue tits chatter and the wrens scold, their huge voices belying their tiny bodies. My feelings war… Continue Reading “Distracted by the Birds”
Sticky, clicky poppy lid Snaps open; nasal bliss Ensues; a sugary mid Morning madness Red, glistening, pips Upon my shoulder Captain of the preserves Conserve my energy For this conserve A jewel upon my knife Then spread on wheat Burnt, golden, sweet Jam makes… Continue Reading “Jam”
And this bowl all without leaving the garden! Now what shall I do with these? Jam or pudding?