Scrumping

Technically, 'scrumping' is stealing, particularly apples from an orchard. However, it can be used casually to refer to general hunter-gatherer activity, and it is this sense in which we indulged in scrumping today (at the instigation of moi). It comes, no doubt, from being a Keachi child, and perhaps watching and reading a bit too much Little House on the Prairie.

I have been itching to pick blackberries for weeks, esp. when I am organised enough to cycle to work and greedily look at all the lovely fruit. However, they are more deceptive here than in Loosyanna -- probably because of the lack of traumatic heat -- and are still quite tart until they are plumper than plump.

Along the alley that leads to the High Common, there are quite a few plums; there are crabapples on several massive trees along the Common; we even picked THREE raspberries in the WILD (very exotic for children from the humid South) when the Traceys and the Irish aunties came for a visit. Then, of course, I am keeping an eagle eye on the elderberries, so I can remember where they are in November. Simply so much scrumping to be done!

Naturally, it is most definitely not thievery if one picks tomatoes that have grown in one's garden; but it doesn't really count as scrumping since it is kind of 'planned' vegetable produce, I think. Consuming 'planned' produce can very loosely be considered scrumping if one happens to be visiting someone else's garden and that kind soul lets you nibble on several different little appetizers (such as rocket leaves, and tarragon, and raspberries).

We have two ripe tomatoes (finally)! The garden has gone quite nicely this summer, despite being started rawther a bit late. There is still a veritable plethora of green tomatoes, and we have had beans with dinner about 5 times now. I have had weeks of lettuces for my lunch salads, and they are still going strong!

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Another activity in which to indulge when one is out and about scrumping, or scoping for future scrumping opportunities, is to feed the ducks on the Common pond...

This is always amusing and guaranteed to cheer, even those in the glummest of moods. The rustling of a bread bag (or maybe it is the sound of the cycle gears clicking) leads super instantly to a zipping, flapping, quacking migration across the pond (as seen to L). Because my camera is so blessedly smart, it made me miss capturing the frantic ones who felt the need to fly the extra 10 feet. *sigh*

However, today's feeding of the ducks was more amusing than average when an additional odd clucking sound began and 4 chickens emerged down the muddy bank and decided they were interested in this frenzy of duckish activity as well.

Approximately 2 minutes later, as the bread supply was decimated, two tiny kittens with festive collars emerged from the trees by the bank as well, boldly and blithely meowing at certain people! The chickens chased them onto the road (and one poor kitty had perhaps had its eye damaged by a chicken talon), which leads me to suspect that chickens would be safe here as they would be perhaps able to bluff the locals of the black feline persuasion...? Hmmmmm...