First of the season, fresh strawberries and extra thick cream (saves having to whip it). Added a tiny bit of sweetener on to the strawberries. I have one that doesn’t have a bitter aftertaste.
When I was young we used to go and pick our own strawberries. You would spend ages in a field searching under leaves to find the berries. Often they were padded underneath the plants with straw to keep the berries from trailing on the ground. I think that’s where they got their name? Summer days when most of the strawberries missed the punnet and fell into our mouths instead. When music by the beatles played out of little transistor radios.
And when we got home? Strawberries with either single cream and white sugar. Or if we hadn’t got cream in, evapourated milk… Heaven…
It’s that time of year again, two weeks of tennis on TV. I could sit in a darkened room and watch it all, mens, womens doubles and wheelchair matches. There is a lot of excitement especially towards the end of the tournament and that’s not including the risk of a heavy downpour of rain stopping play.
This year court one has a retractable roof so it offers shelter to players in the same way as the centre court.
Wimbledon can be engrossing, intriguing, spectacular. Human bodies getting bent and stretched into shapes never normally seen in real life. The commentary helps you understand what just happened when tennis balls are travelling across the court faster than you can see.
But I’m getting interested. It’s on in the background. I’ve got things to do. People to see. Switch it off…. In a few minutes, at the end of this game…. This set…. This match….