Again, it's the little things that count.
As I got back from my walk the Bobster told me that my work phone had rung. Fair enough, it was just after eight and so I phoned back. As much as I grumble about mobile phones, it is nice to see whose call you've missed.
The number was new to me and to my surprise it was a very nice older lady up the road. A proud to be spinster too, as she once told me how very fortunate she feels not being at the beck and call of a husband...really, do husbands do that? It was the first time she rang me and that alone is great. Usually, I just go and visit her.
" Birgit, it's me, Frau... Do you want to pick some Ribisel ( Red currant )? They are ripe and need to be picked before the birds eat them all."Last year we went to pick a few kilograms and proceeded to make some rather yummy jam. Deliciously sweet jam with a hint of sourness which is the perfect dressing for a chunk of brie...She has a whole row of these red currant bushes and as one of her nephews was also keen on them she asked us to leave enough for him.
Making this particular jam is a bit more labour intensive and that might be why she told me:
" Don't worry about leaving any for my nephew. They don't want to make jam this year. I think it's too much work for the younger lot."I was pleased on many fronts. Firstly, her nephew is a fair bit my senior and secondly, the future looks filled with red currant jam.
It seems just an ordinary story about fruit, yet, it is so much more. The mere fact that this lady looked up my phone number to tell me about the red currants means the world to me and just like that she has made me feel a part of our village.
Biggi
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