The rubber hits the road

This is where the emigrating shit gets real: when you pack your kids off to a strange school in a strange country, where along with the unfamiliar faces so much else is foreign too: the accents, the vocabulary, the routines, the things that everyone else seems to know by osmosis but no one quite explains.

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Wild food and wildlife (If this is autumn… part 2)

So as I was saying, the autumn roadsides are ablush with ripe hawthorn berries, which appear to be non-toxic but still entirely useless as a foraged food. The wild rose bushes, however, which are also widespread, are laden with fat scarlet rosehips, and these are useful. (Remember, we’re operating on an if it’s free, we’ll eat it basis.)

If this is autumn… (part 1)

We’ve had school holidays, and visitors, and for me, a two-week embargo on writing while ideas burn impatient holes in my head. The house has stood up brilliantly to guests and we’ve relished the advent of treats – luxury foods, alcohol, good company.