I tried to fake genuine amazement at the three harvested peppers and two cucumbers. Call me a 'spoilt supermarket saddo' if you want, but these items were decidedly poorly looking. It's not that I am not impressed that my dearest for 24 years (anniversary this week) has grown a pepper plant and harvested the fruits, it's just they look a little shriveled and they have suspicious insect holes in them. The cucumbers, instead of being green, are of a strange pale yellow hue. "Wow!" is the general 'cover all' for any offerings, muddy and slug-eaten, that are presented from the garden.
We had one of the plum-sized peppers in our home-made chicken soup this evening. There were tiny specks of dark green pepper which we, of course, made exaggerated yum-yum noises at. The cucumber didn't pass the cutting stage as it tasted like vinegar - nasty vinegar.
The dog is spending less time in the greenhouse (the plants are slowly dying). His usual trip around the garden consists of cat bowl, wee up the boundary stone, eating tomatoes (that have dropped off the tomato plants onto the greenhouse floor), followed by licking the kitchen drain for any sweetcorn, bits of cooked rice or other washing-up-bowl titbits.
There are two harvest suppers in the village - one run by the WI and the other is in the church. I am not sure who I will fall out with if I attend either. Since the front hedge needs cutting, and I am likely to cause a major eye injury to some unsuspecting dear person very soon, it is likely I will be attempting a straight-horticultural-line during suppertime anyway (after 5pm the lane is free of traffic and safe to start strimming in).
I am a bit fed-up that I only made a jar and a half of Blackberry jam last night. It took Wilf (Standard Schnauzer) and I half an hour to pick a colander full of berries. We had to avoid dog-muck, nettles and then find prime fruit; some were too squashy, others too hard. It was getting dark and I feared some nasty weirdo might be lurking in the hedgerow (watched too many crime dramas on ITV). The result of our "all things bright and beautiful" escapade only made enough jam for one Victoria Sandwich and a few midnight feasts - ho -hum.