While out shopping with Elly last week, I was browsing while she gathered some foodie items she wanted. Being away from home, and hoping she & George would feed me, I was content to browse.
My eye landed on a display of some interestingly looking preserves. Colours ranged from orange, through reds to dark blueberry and a light green.
The blueberry jam looked tempting and not one I often come across in my neck of the woods. Playing the “Will I? Won’t I?” game, I overheard a gentleman ask his female companion about the contents of the green jars.
“Gooseberry!” I offered, always open to begin a conversation with strangers.
“Oh good! I love gooseberry jam” He replied. “But you don’t often see it these days”.
“I can tell you why”, I said judging him to be about five or six years my junior.
At this stage his companion drew closer to listen to our chat.
“When I was a young child, our parents told us we were all found under a gooseberry bush. We did have a couple of gooseberry bushes at the end of the Garden. Funnily enough, they were removed after my sister, our baby was born!”
“SO WERE WE”! The couple chorused and laughed.
“Yes, ours were removed after my brother was born”. He said.
They agreed with me that you seldom see gooseberry bushes these days. With that he picked a jar of gooseberry jam from the shelf and added it to his basket.