Hello!
And welcome to out weekly community post in which we share out thoughts on the ways in which the season is shifting for us, week by week. I tell you something I have noticed that felt particularly ‘this week in the year’, and then you tell me yours, in the comments. At the end of the month it all builds into a big beautiful poem that charts the subtle and not so subtle changes. You comments have been so beautiful recently, and I think August’s poem is going to be a classic, as we slide from ‘summer is going to last forever!’ to ‘uh oh…’
Anyway, no further ado, here’s mine:
Sloes
People like me are wont to write in their books that you should leave the picking of sloes until October or November or later, after the first frosts. In fact if I ever did write that I don’t write it any more, because I live in a place - I suspect we all do - where people are quite extremely on it as regards sloes, which is to say: the second they look even slightly ripe, they are gone. So I rounded a corner up on Bristol Downs this week and spotted a handful and I grabbed them. There were still plenty left for the birds, up high, but I got what I could of the human-level ones. It’s not much. It might make a modest jar of sloe gin, but I beat the Bristol hoards to them so it will taste particularly sweet. I have put them in the freezer, to mimic those October/November/December frosts.
That’s it from me, but before I go I would like to draw your attention to a little experiment in the chat this week. I have put up a post that is intended as a ‘blackberry season special chat’, outwith our usual Sunday chats. My idea was that it would act as a repository for pictures of your blackberry harvests and the things you have made with them. We can also share recipes there if you fancy too. Somehow it got a bit hidden down the list of other people’s chats so you may have to seek it out if that is something you fancy chiming in with. This community is so warm and generous that I thought this might be a nice thing we can repeat for special crops, but let’s see if it works.
That’s it from me, except to say that this time next week The Almanac 2025 will be published! If you want it to drop onto your mat on publishing day and to do me a huge favour you can pre-order it at one of the links here - pleasingly it is currently cheapest of all at lovely Blackwells (who, incidentally, will also send books abroad…).
See you on Sunday in the chat for our usual show-and-tell, and in the meantime: what have you noticed/watched/eaten/sniffed/bought this week that feels particularly ‘this week’? Please leave your comments below.
I actually saw your 2025 almanac on sale at the Barnes wetlands centre! I just had to peek in and ooooh I think it’s going to be the best one yet! Didn’t read it all because I want to savour it next year, month by month. Didn’t buy it yet because I might get it as part of a subscription box (hopefully!) but yes, it’s already out there!
This week it’s watching an eerie, ominously red full moon rising over the Thames, the colour of a wine stain. Outside of an eclipse I’ve never seen it so red.
Well, I’ve finished all my chemo treatment now, and the week in hospital to try to get my bloods, hydration and other problems fixed which I was left with after the brutality of chemo. So now I’m into recovery proper before surgery in mid September - and fatigued as I am, I’m determined to make the most of it now I am able to get out a little. West Dean Gardens yesterday to see all the glories there and enjoy the late summer vibe. Enjoying ripe tomatoes, runner beans and herbs from the garden. My white cosmos are magnificent!
Seen some glorious moon shots too! Just loving being back here and reading all your wonderful comments again! I’ve missed you all. I e just ordered the Almanac 2025 Lia! I want to dig in as soon as possible while I have all this recovery time.