Categories: words, mrs-tiggywinkle, food, translation
Date: 02 June 2008 23:58:19
Now that Mrs Tiggywinkle has done all the ironing, the latest displacement activity appears to have presented itself: making elderflower cordial.
On Sunday, realising that I was going to be away for the next two weekends, I dashed up to the fields behind the house to gather my elderflowers. It wasn't an optimal day as my recipe says that the flowers should be collected "in full sunshine". It was in fact threatening to rain so, without further ado, I ran out of the house in my most ancient clothes (I had been gardening) and wellingtons. On the way, I bumped into the curate, who looked mightily amused at my attire. I managed to gather the requisite number of blooms (21) - not an easy feat as all the elderflower bushes were surrounded by chest-height nettles - and on the way back down the hill, I bumped into the vicar's wife (it is a very holy hill, clearly). At this point, the rain had started and I felt I had to cut short our comparison of elderflower cordial recipes so that mine would have half a chance of getting started.
Today, I had just got started on the education assignment (part the second) when Marie-France phoned. She said that she had just had an elderflower bush cut down in her garden and remembered my annual cordial-making activities. Did I want the flowers? I downed translation tools and dashed round to her house (it had just started raining again) to rescue the flowers from a certain muddy end. (Marie-France is having her garden re-landscaped and it's at the building site stage).
I then decided I should pop to the chemist's to get the citric acid I needed. Sold out! Well, sold out to me, actually. I bought the last stocks on Friday and today I was informed that since the takeover of the business, "citric acid isn't on the ordering system so we can't get it". What a blow. I will now have to spend time trawling round other pharmacies to find another supplier. "Supplier", it occurs to me, is a slightly unfortunate word to use in this context. You may find that if you ever want citric acid, the assistants will give you a piercing glare. Apparently, drug users use it for something or other; I think the piercing glare is supposed to be some sort deterrent.
So, the upshot of all this is that I am two pages behind on today's quota of translation, I have a basket-load of elderflowers needing attention AND I have to face more glares from pharmists. AND I've got to bottle the cordial currently infusing in the kitchen. Ironing is much less complicated, methinks.