A baby watermelon.... when I cut into it this morning I was expecting rows of flat black shiny pips inside but found these instead - tiny white ones like soft milk teeth...
Today we sat on rugs spread in the shade under huge sycamore trees in a small, peaceful park in Bristol - sharing a munificent picnic feast - celebrating my nephew's birthday. We piled our paper plates with award winning cheeses..... soft bread, crusty bread, olive bread and walnut bread..... salty butter, salty crisps....... home-made chutneys and silver skinned onions.........homegrown sugar snap peas, lettuces and cucumber.......yellow tomatoes, cherry tomatoes, roasted with garlic and basil tomatoes....... crunchy green olives........ and a basket of fruits - Mejul dates, sugar dusted figs, rose blushed pears, donut peaches - all washed down with ginger beer, white wine and elderflower fizz.
And all the while my little three year old great nephew played around us - hopping in and out of the wicker picnic basket, running in and out of the shade, kicking a ball, chasing his grandparents in his little bare feet, riding their legs, escaping tickles from his great uncle, sitting astride his father's back - little fingers tugging his hair, swinging and rolling in his mother's arms - always chuckling, laughing, arm waving gleeful.
Later, back at the house he helped his father blow out the birthday candles and like the rest of us tucked into a slice of the sticky lemon polenta cake, the elegant lemon tart, the homemade pisctachio biscotti and the bowl of strawberries, raspberries blackberries and wedges of cool pink watermelon.
Needless to say we didn't need supper tonight.
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