Preparations to go on holiday never seems to be a straightforward business. I am currently sitting by my printing endless reams of essential paperwork that I simply cannot leave without. Of course, no one else in my household is likely to agree that it is essential. Recipes and scanned preserves books never appear that important to the Captain *sigh*. I suppose I should be doing things like sorting out clothes. Or food. Or other stuff. But really. How can I step aboard Wand’ring Bark with my preserving pan, knowing that the hedgerows are simply bursting with fruity goodness and not have my books and recipes to hand?
It is true that I rarely stick to recipes. I like to tittervate as I go. Adding a bit here. Adapting a bit there. Sometimes changes things altogether. Occasionally, I even remember to write these variations down. Mostly I forget them. Obviously that always happens on the rare occasions I create something divine. It is always fleeting and of the moment. I can never recapture it. But perhaps this is part of the appeal.
This holiday I have great hopes for delicious moments with blackberries, possibly plums or damsons, maybe rowan or even haws. I hope to add to our boating Rumtopf – now in its proper jar 🙂 And I am going prepared. Last time I ran out of jars. This time I am determined not to. We are heading north. Huddersfield has been mentioned. So has Staleybridge. And the River Trent. One of the great joys of having no sense of direction and no canal memory is that every trip is an adventure into the unknown – hurrah!
So, as we prepare to weigh anchor and set sail, I shall bid you a dry farewell and hope you will join me next when I blog our progress while we float out into to the wide blue yonder. Or at least the narrow, lock festooned distance.