Birds are chirping, buds are bursting, the groundhogs are out in force, and the weeds have already started to invade the stone paths to the woods. The roar of lawnmowers has replaced the howl of snowblowers (which had previously replaced the screeching of leafblowers) - a sure sign here in suburbia that Summer is just around the corner.
Best of all, our orchard is in full flower.
When I say orchard, I mean the two plum trees that Sir insisted we plant shortly after we undertook landscaping about ten years ago. The trees are in the middle of our front lawn because the back yard turns into a sodden marsh every time it rains, requiring the planting there of wet-loving specimens such as cranberries (I have yet to save any from the birds); pussywillows; red twig dogwoods; and swamp bay magnolias.
The fact that our plum bearers are situated unusually between the house and the street brings with it certain difficulties. For one thing, our bounteous harvests grow under the watchful eyes of all the neighbours, necessitating that we give away a substantial part of our haul every summer for the sake of good relations. Having the growing fruit on public view also means that I am forced to scrabble around under the low-hanging branches for hours on end gleaning fallen plums from the grass, lest they rot where they lie and make unsightly bald brown patches, thus lowering property values all around us.
Lots of plums do fall because, frankly, we never know what to do with all the millions we produce and generally stop picking them about three-quarters of the way through the season. In the past, we have given them away to friends and neighbours in brown paper bags (see above); left them in buckets by our mailbox for any casual takers; and contributed them to Jammers near and far for various preserving purposes. All this generosity makes barely a dent in the yield and so, naturally, some fall by the wayside for dumping in the woods out back for ants, squirrels, rabbits, groundhogs, and the occasional fox (we think) to enjoy.
But not this year! This year, I have joined the ranks of thrifty home canners with Ball jars and seals galore. Let's have a look at all the glorious delights I will be able to make with the fabulous organic produce currently hatching in my own front yard. I have several preserving books to choose from these days, with both jars of sweet and savory condiments to anticipate. I shall think about sweet applications first. I have recipes for plum/apple jam; plum/orange conserve with figs; plum conserve with raisins and pecans; plum and prune paste; plums with vanilla and dried lemon slices; and plums with orange and cardamom (those last two are from Madame Ferber, of course). Savory next: there's plum chutney with cinammon and coriander; sesame plum sauce; and pickled plums, to name a few - any of which would be awesome with the cheese I've got going at the moment.
It's so exciting I can hardly wait for the summer to get underway so I can begin.
Wait a minute.
I just had a sinking feeling. I definitely remember crawling around on all fours for most of last August, unpeeling fallen plums from the long grass under the trees.
And guess what? Our plum trees are biennial.
This year of home-grown stone fruit there will be none.
And that's just plum disappointing.
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