Ever have one of those old disco tunes get stuck on an endless reel inside your head? Well, if you’re in your twenties or thirties, probably not. But there will be other songs on instant replay in your heads, no doubt. This time of year, my garden inspires thoughts of endless reels: pick, cook, eat. Pick, cook, eat. Pick, can, eat. Pick, can, eat. You get the idea. And I’m not complaining, really, especially now that clusters of figs are ripening with sufficient yield that I can finally make a fresh batch of fig jam.
Now that my hand surgery is well behind me (stitches come out next week) and I can hold a knife again for at least a short while without being in danger of slicing off a finger, I’ve gotten back to the kitchen if not to the knitting.
Speaking of knitting, there is nothing sadder than watching TV in the evenings without a project in progress in my lap. It may be a while before my fine motor skills return, since I can still barely hold a pen, much less a knitting needle, for more than a couple of minutes. By then, my fingers hurt, and they are definitely still swollen and unhappy about bending. *Sigh* The good news is that I will start physical therapy just a couple of days after the stitches are removed, and hopefully that will jumpstart my recovery.
With lots of help from a friend and baggies filled with pre-chopped fruit, we made dozens of jars of rhubarb citrus chutney (mmmm, so yummy with cheese and crackers!), and still more peach jam. Today jam, tomorrow knitting!
Comments welcome