spikey globes

i know its the unusuals, the overseas glamour grub gets most of the attention but im strangely fascinated by their old fashioned english bedfellows at the moment...what with the asparagus arrowing upwards, the mulberries now in leaf and throwing out signs of fruit, we've now spent the first sunny afternoon by the river tearing artichokes into vinegretty pieces



no longer just the delicious but shallow hearts of last year, almost two thirds of these drool-worthy globes is succulent, tender flesh...and the more you cut, the more you get

total luxury

pattern

i dont play the bass much anymore, not because i dont enjoy it but time and life seems to have taken it that way....but if there's one person who makes me want to pick it up it's James Jamerson and if there's one person who makes me want to put it down again its James Jamerson



inspiring though it may be to see people born to do what they do so profoundly, it can make doing the same thing seem faintly ridiculous...in the same way George Monbiot makes me want to think and act a little more at the same time as send my obviously sleepy inferior brain off for a cranial refresher at some head health spa

but until such time as one of these rural retreats opens and i return with renewed clarity and capacity of thought, i'll have to be content with someone else letting me know if there's some mathematical pattern to the way asparagus lobes screw round to their uppermost point

confirmation

the last week really has been the arrival, unequivocal, of spring...it can retreat into a cold patch, we can get a frost, it may rain hard and long again, but if it does it will be happening in spring, rather than this hot dry patch belonging to the tails of winter



the blossom can be erratic, bud burst an unreliable indicator, but the animals like their kip, and when they stretch out and begin to unpack themselves you can be pretty sure it's finally here

fingers crossed

seems that last frost might not have done for all the apricot blossom after all...deuce

Go to Otter Farm | by Mark D