ALL STUCK UP

his morning for some reason both my son and I were completely shattered,it was as if neither of us had slept at all. In fact I had slept little and my son not much better and to make matters worse Pa was up,dressed and as bright as a button, something which has not occurred for some years!

Very late and very rusty we hobbled downstairs and on auto -pilot I made a batch of pancakes for breakfast after which Pa went shopping my son limped back to his lair and I decided to make some preserves.

Jam making is a total experience in so far as everything ,including me becomes totally sticky,today was no exception. I quartered six pounds of Bramley's and set then to simmer with half a dozen sticks of thyme, then ,in another pan a kilo of rose hips were left to simmer while I hied me to the orchard to pick six pounds of damsons.

Damsons are pesky little devils as many of them are infested with small grubs ,so unless you wish to find these unsavoury little critters floating about in your jam it is necessary to carefully check each one for the tell ale signs of occupation by these nasty little pests.

If grubs are present there will be a small droplet of clear liquid,sometimes solidified at the base of the fruit, this is the result of the grub having digester the fruit inside....in other words it is grub poo!! Not a pleasant thought when tucking in to jam and cream scones on a cold winters afternoon to be sure.

Having sorted through about ten pounds of damsons to find six grub free specimens I returned to the house,poured the apple pulp into a jelly bag to strain over night,ditto the rose hips then I tied the apple bag to a camera tri-pod and hung the rose hip bag from one of the kitchen cupboard doors, and vastly tricky it was to do.

I then turned my attention to the damsons and set them to boil in a large maslin pan, as they softened I made ready the jars for bottling then, when the fruit was soft I added the sugar and commenced the business of skimming of the damson stones,of which there were a great multitude. This task is the epitome of the dreary yawn feste and on a hot day it is unpleasant to have to stand so close to the pan in order to remove the teeth breaking stones. Note to self,next time make damson jelly!

At last all the stones were gone and the jam safely bottled in hot jars, now all I had to do was clear the kitchen......................what a mess. Every where I looked there were dark red splotches of damson jam, lumps of apple pulp, sugar granules and above all a mountain of sticky utensils, the cleaning of which to over an hour.

Free at last I took the buggy out for a spin to cool down and get some fresh air and all went well until I stood up to pick some delicious looking elderberries. A large blob of jam had adhered to my trousers and I was well and truly stuck to the seat of the buggy,I got up and left my elastic waisted trousers behind. This could have been very nasty luckily there was no one around so I pulled up my trousers and headed for home...cursing horribly!

With every bone aching I set about making the pasta meal I had promised the boys although my whole desire was to go directly to bed and when at last the meal was over and the dishes washed I fled to the bathroom and bagged first shower.

Now, with my eyes closing I write my daily account .in the certain knowledge that by the time I fall in to bed I shall be wide awake and will spend most of the night watching the rolling news. BUMMER!