Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Time to sit in front of the telly watching the new food porn stars making jam (Rachel Allen, Nigella Lawson, etc.)
If you grew up in suburban Ireland in any time up until the 1980’s
time to go slogging apples.
For anybody who grew up outside of my world slogging apples was about as criminal as we got.
It basically involved climbing lots of garden walls, dodging dogs and stuffing your pockets with apples – not, obviously, from your own back garden.
I mean, looking back on it we didn’t even really like apples – it wasn’t like there was an apple shortage around our way. I even remember having apple and pear trees in our back garden but never thinking of thieving from them –
I suppose it’s like playing away from home – you’re in it for the thrill (note to anybody who know me – that’s conjecture)
And what was it about apples anyway?
I never remember going slogging potatoes or carrots.
I suppose if you were to analyse it, it was probably because the people with big mature apple tree normally had the best and oldest houses so they were sitting ducks for the likes of me.
I suppose if it was these days I’d be keying their cars a opposed to wondering what to do with pocketfuls of cooking apples.
The running is going grand as well. Work is busy though so I’m knackered.