I’ve been watching the rowan trees of late whilst out on my run. Watching the berries appear and go from pale orange to bright red. Awaiting my moment to strike and pick the harvest for another few jars of rowan jelly. Not such a simple task this, it’s a matter of cunning and timing. You have to get in there when the berries are red but before the birds have decided to do the same.
Well this week I decided to take action. I ran round on Monday and realised half way round that I had forgotten the carrier bag.
Wednesday I set off with carrier bag in hand. Nasty thing to carry so stuffed it down back of joggers. Anyone who weares running trousers will know that they are a bit frugal in the pocket department and there is only one place to put things – inside!
Head off down the hill. Always feel this is the best part of the run and I build up speed and feel all athletic and fit. The fact that I am going down a steep hill has nothing whatsoever to do with this.
Get to bottom of hill and feel something is missing. The bloody bag has fallen out way back up top of hill. Trudge back up again and retrieve bag attached to barbed wire fence.
Run back down hill again, not quite so athletically.
About half way round my 6k run I spot the first rowan tree and start picking the berries. Easy peasy.
Jog on to next tree and get more. There are not as many as on Monday as the birds came out better prepared than me that day and have done a good job of stripping the trees. Anyway there looks like enough for a few jars so I’m quite happy jogging from tree to tree and filling my bag.
It is only after tree 5 that I notice that the bag isn’t very heavy and look at it properly. Hmmmmmmmm I then look down at the lane and find a lovely trail of red berries stretching beck behind me. The barbed wire fence had sabotaged my carrier bag. Tied knot to close gap in bag and backtrack to pick up all my dropped berries.
Onwards to the next tree and the birds have done a good job on this but if I reach up I can still get a thin branch down that has some good bunches on it. Grab the branch and pull. Get lots of berries and am just thinking this is enough when I stumble back a bit. Okay no problem I have hold of the branch. As I right myself I let go of the branch and commit the cardinal sin in tree grabbing – always remember that branches have springs in them.
The branch is thin and whippy and springs straight back up into the air. Alas it hits me in the face on the way up and goes right in my eye.
I don’t stumble back this time I just plain fall over. Bag of berries everywhere I am now rolling about clutching my eye and squealing like the proverbial stuck pig.
Nobody about to help so eventually give up on histrionics and stagger to feet. Spend another 10 minutes picking up all the bloody berries again.
Leave berries on kitchen table and head to loo to asses damage to face. Lovely bloodshot eye gases balefully back at me.
Return to kitchen to find polecat playing amoungst the berries.
Flop down at the table and wonder about the sense of all this and why don’t I just buy the damn stuff….
Idgy comes home and admires the pretty pink jars of jelly lined up on the shelf. “Ah the rowan jelly, well done Mum it looks lovely.” Yes it’s all worthwhile.
“What the heck happened to your eye?” hmmmm maybe not……….