One morning this week I noticed that one of the fig trees we see on our morning walk was covered in rich, ripe figs. As we’ve learned from experience, picking figs is a sticky job, particularly if we’re popping our scrumped findings in pockets, and as we were about as far away from home as we could be on this walk, we decided to wait till the next day and bring a bag and do it properly.
So, the next morning I filled the bag with lovely figs and we had great plans for all sorts of figgy delights (I’ve overcome my fig aversion – although now I’ve reminded myself of it…. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fig_wasp) . But when Ian cut open a fig, it was dry and bitter inside.
On closer inspection, our entire haul was like that 🙁
What we had forgotten is there are two fig harvests in a year and the first one isn’t edible.
No wonder there were so many figs on the tree, no one else was scrumping them and even the wildlife was giving them a wide berth.
While it’s summer hot here at the moment, the heatwave is passing us by…
…which is good.
However, it is warm enough for the village swimming pool to open, which it does this weekend!