Walking in the countryside I imagined myself doing the race this March in Paris, walking eight miles is a nothing in Paris, there is much to admire and gather inspiration from. I went out this morning, direction the blackthorn tree, not as grandoise as Saint Germaine des Pres though enjoyable.
As I walked I heard a dog barking, I remembered what Barbara (a Tongue in Cheek blog reader.) wrote me: Fold your arms, do not look the dog in the eye... that is all I remembered as fear took over when the dog starting coming towards me. I began to pray, "Shit God, I don't want to be eaten alive by a dog!" And then thankfully, I heard the dog owner call his dog back. As it ran towards the owner I noticed it was a big fluffy dog and its tail wagged. Whew.
The other day I noticed this big bush/tree full of fruit that looked like blueberries, but did not grow like blueberries. I tasted one and thought it might be a baby prune... Prunella? After I ate it I thought poison? and panicked for two seconds. I picked a few along with some weeds and herbs, acorns and hazelnuts to take to Annie's. I love watching her pick though my nature collection and declaring, "This is edible, Fennel, dandelion, arugula ... oh this is not, wild mint, acorn.. oh this is good, oh this isn't..."
When Annie saw the fruit I called Prunella, she sat up on the edge of her chair, "Blackthorn!" she continued, "When we were children blackthorn was like a candy to us. We would search for it in the forest, and often were so delighted to find it we would eat it before it was ripe."
Ripe or not Blackthorn fruit is mostly bitter. But Annie loved it and ate plenty. I went back today to pick a bag full for her.
Have you ever had this fruit?