Bread and jam and going doolally

The day after getting back from Blackpool a week or so ago, we popped to the nature reserve round the corner from where we live. It's a lovely, unexpected little hidden gem of a place. The entrance is unremarkable - just a path between two houses, and easy to walk past without realising what is tucked behind them.

We take the girls there a lot and there is always something interesting for them to look at. It was where the littlest girl went on the day Charlotte was being born. Aware something was going on, she was a bit reluctant to go and play with my friend and her little boy without me coming along too. So we hastily concocted a special job for her to do - the release of the tadpoles back into the pond at the nature reserve.

Right now, there are big fat juicy blackberries at the nature reserve. We've picked some, but there are plenty more still there just waiting to be plopped into empty ice cream tubs. I find myself wondering and plotting the next time I can go back. Maybe I could get up very early and go alone before everyone else is up.

Oops. I am thinking twice about typing these words, for fear someone local to my home town of Bedford is reading this. Maybe they love berry picking as much as me (for love, read has a tendency to get slightly obsessed with it for a few days every August). What if they rush out and pick all the berries, I worry to myself.

Oh dear. I am sounding a bit doolally.

The lullaby I sing to my girls
(I know it is a daft thing to put on a jar of jam, but this was some pointless sewing in front of the TV just because I can)

It's just that I do love berry picking. Because berry picking leads to things like crumble and custard. And jam.

Big fat juicy berries, just perfect for turning into jam. What could be better?

And, in celebration of the wondrousness of jam, I have decided to adorn these jars with the decoration I think they deserve.

I'm giving some away to friends. And some - well some I am keeping just for our little gang. I'm going to hide at least one right at the back of the cupboard and save it to bring out on a rainy day and crack it open for doorstep slices of toast with tea. It's packed full of happy memories of berry picking with my girls - I know it will make me smile.