Pomme d’ amour.

The French language is so much more romantic than ours.
We call these tomatoes, but they originally called the Love apples.

However these aren’t just any tomatoes, these are our home grown tomatoes. They never ripened outside, and so picked when still green, they have been wrapped in newspaper, and put away in a drawer to ripen.
Well it did the trick, but unfortunately 5 had to be thrown away as they had gone rotten.
They will be fried for tea, along with mushrooms, bacon and egg. We enjoy a good fry up every now and again.

A lovely sunny day for once. Mostly spent in the garden. Everything cut back and a mulch containing farmyard manure now spread over the ground.
Mr C took 4 large bags of rubbish to the tip.
Hope that’s it for this year.