So much for jam-making this morning. I got up late. By the time I'd performed the usual ablutions, inserted eye-aids, painted a bright smile on my face and read emails, it was nearly time to go to the Rectory. Those of you who have long memories and have used them here will know that our Rector left us a few months ago. Although he and his family left the Rectory clean and tidy, it is not until all furniture is removed that one sees the dirty marks on the walls left by furniture, where one feels for the light-switch etc; furthermore, the garden had become overgrown and only the lawn had been cut. A working-party was called for.
It was called for on Thursday. I said what evenings next week i was free. Someone suggested Saturday morning. I said fine, and emailed likely parishioners to ask for help, and had several offers and three apologies, all with cast-iron excuses (one was working, another is on two sticks and the third is visiting Somerset).
Apparently, in the other parishes, some people were a bit miffed. Short notice, they said.
But if you rang and said "Time for a coffee and a chat?", would they say "yes," "no, sorry" or "short notice"? But a couple of them came anyway and the work got done.
And then I went to the pub for lunch, which took quite some time.
And then I came home and said hello.
And then I went to a party, but only for an hour.
And then I went to practise the clarinet for church tomorrow.
And then I came and cooked and ate dinner and watered the greenhouses.
So it was not until 9 o'clock that I started making jam.
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Strawberry. Alex brought home 44 pounds of strawberries. 11 batches. 60-something pots. 33 pounds of sugar. 22 lemons.
Let's say 66 pots, it'll go so well with the rest of the litany.
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