Forgaging

There was a definite autumnal nip in the air today and we had a nice trip out to pick brambles. I love brambling, having gone most years as a child along the railway line armed with tupperwares, even the taste of them transports me back to the good old days. Those days when we heard the lines rumbling we knew to step to the side and let the Kilmacolm to Glasgow train past without mowing any of us down. Now it's a cycle path and you're more likely to get mowed down by one of the cyclists who doesn't think to ring their bell as a warning.

I shall be doing something extraordinary with those brambles in a pan this evening - unless I eat them all now.