And Uncle Tom Cobleigh and All

The appearance of cherries is pleasing and I like their slight tendency to sourness. In texture though, for all that they claim to be soft fruits, they are more like a very lean meat. It is their substance that makes cherries so particularly satisfying.

I was musing on the biteability of cherries as I finished a bowl today at lunchtime. The cherries were part of a picnic dinner prepared last night for Rex and Londonderry. Other dishes included figs (yes, from the garden) grilled with goats cheese and bacon, and Tom and Mike’s ham salad. I poached some salmon and served it cold. There was fried chicken from Gretel’s grocery, and shop-bought broccoli salad, and some bean salad I made myself. My plan had been to serve all this on the WMB memorial deck but an ill-timed thunder storm put paid to that idea and so we ate inside, thankful for the air conditioning, the roof and the constant supply of red wine.

R and L brought me a 1936 Fielding Crown Devon musical tankard commemorating Widdecombe Fair. The musical mug belonged to Rex’s mother and has all the words to the Devon folk song on the back. Every time you lift the tankard, the music starts. The song, which dates only from 1890, gave the English language the expression “and Uncle Tom Cobleigh and all“.  I am fond of the expression and delighted with the mug.

Ms Monroe outdid herself with my birthday gift this year, which was waiting on the doorstep on the big day. Who wouldn’t adore a pre-loved birdcage filled with hydrangea? The Captain advanced the plant theme with a Gardenia from his backyard nursery and Lady Di fueled my footwear fetish with a gift card for DSW. Peggotty and Barkis provided the wherewithal for a pedicure so perhaps I shall opt for something open toed. Jeffrey’s dad sent over a bottle of Sambuca and the world’s greatest realtor brought a little culture to the Blarney kitchen through some cards from South Africa. These feature paintings on one side and some very yummy recipes on the other.

At the Davidsonville Day Lily sale I bought myself a Wilson spider lily in honor of my father. You can see it in the picture beside the beautiful birdcage.

Hear the Kings Singers singing Widdecombe Fair

About Liz Barron

US Peace Corps Volunteer in Armenia. Permanent address in Washington DC. Deep roots in Northern Ireland and persistent Belfast accent. Blogger,cook, mother, grandma, Scrabble-player and enthusiastic world traveler.
This entry was posted in Culture with the Crone, friendship, garden, itchy ankle, maryland, yard sale finds and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to And Uncle Tom Cobleigh and All

  1. Rex says:

    ‘Twas our pleasure. So glad that the Widdecombe Fair Tankard has another appreciative home. Now you have to learn the names of all those mounted on the poor old grey mare. And thanks for the great grub. Delish. Wonder where the word ‘grub’ came from? Back to google for me.

    Hugs, R & L.

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