Signs of Summer.

I love the stone fruits of Summer.
To me, biting into a plum always makes me think of encapsulated sunshine. I can taste the sun, if such a taste is possible. I also love nectarines, & peaches, apricots, & of course cherries. These are the only fruits left in the house at present. These fat, dark, delicious plums. The sweet white fleshed nectarines. Not artfully displayed. I am sure the northern folks reading this would give their eyeteeth to be able to savour these fruit, amid their cold dreary winter.

SG came with his mother, to visit yesterday. He asked if he could have the last banana to eat. Of course! said Nanna, delighted that he at least likes bananas.

Why is it that children don't seem to want to eat fruit these days.

When we were children, we loved fruit. We had 2 Nectarine trees, different varieties. Two Peach trees, likewise. Our Grandfather had built a pyramid shaped trellis for the passionfruit vines to grow over. We would sit in the 'teepee' formed by the vines, & gorge on passion fruit.

We had two 'Tree Tomato' trees- they are called Tamarillos now. They were so delicious. The frost would kill the leaves, burning them black, but we always seemed to have fruit off them. I see them in the shops here, but they are so expensive, I don't buy them. We also had a lemon tree, & we had a whole hedge of Fejoas. What a strange looking fruit they were. Wrinkly green skins, & curious white/cream flesh. They taste rather like fruit salad. I never see them in the shops here. Perhaps they dont travel well.

Our Grandmother would stew the fruit, & she also bottled a lot whenever she could. She had a huge old Welch Dresser, that stood out in the back porch, because the kitchen was too small to accommodate it, & it was always filled with preserved fruits, jams, jellies. I can remember the muslin ball hanging suspended over the pan, in the concrete tub, in the washhouse, dripping the juice from the quinces. We would eat beautiful clear quince jelly on our fresh bread. She would also preserve a lot of the passionfruit pulp, so that we had that for treats in icing, cakes or puddings.

Our mother would take us on blackberry picking expeditions to the dusty steaming paddocks where the blackberries grew in wild tangles, and the tall grasses grew, with seed heads that made us sometimes sneeze at the pollen. We would come home scratched & bloodied in patches, but happy with our black treasure, of juicy fat blackberries. I don't suppose it would be possible today, as the Blackberries are a pest to be erradicated, the farmer who leaves it growing is to be frowned upon, for his lack of diligence.

Our Grandmother would make Blackberry & apple pies, & blackberry jelly & jam, for the winter. Freezers were a thing for the future in those days, so preserving was the way to go, if you wished for produce in the winter months. When we had our Passionfruit vine, I froze the pulp, unsweetened. No hot cooking or messing about with preserving jars.

I can still see my Grandmother, standing in the kitchen in her apron, her red face shining with the sheen of perspiration, from standing & stirring the jam or jelly, or preparing the fruits for bottling. How she would have loved the idea of freezing things. She loved gadgets, & was always eager to try new things. I am sure she would have loved flying as much as I do!

Here is a picture of our Tibouchina in the back yard. It is a self sown tree, that I moved when we redid the back yard, & I was very surprised when it survived. The colour is quite true to life, in this photo.

And here is the little Prince of Orange, or Ixora. It is growing in a pot, & I keep meaning to plant it into the garden. The glare of the sun has spoilt the picture, so I still need to learn about macro!

Oscar Lopez, Fire & Fury.