This farm, which we are so very, very lucky to live near, is never far from our minds in summer. Not many weeks go by without a hit and run reccie for fresh vege and perhaps some hand-picked strawberries for the table. Summer wouldn’t be summer without fresh fruit.
And walking over the hills, searching for glistening hidden gems, breathing in all the fresh, quiet air, well, it’s more than the tummy that gets fed, isn’t it?
This time of year plums are beckoning and the boys and I fill up our baskets with fruit that will supply us with the best part of our year’s jam batch. I think they know that when this fruit is ready for picking the last of the summer is winding down. They make the most of the farm, the farm dogs, the playground, the open, outside living.
And we gather as much of the summer as we can.
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