I've decided I don't like figs.
A kind neighbour cornered me with some the other day.
"Oh you must try them, they're delicious"
So I took a few and left them to ripen on the kitchen window sill.
Today, whilst emptying the kitchen in advance of next week's renovation I thought "better try one, can't live a life less travelled" and all that.
Not for me.
2 comments:
The award-winning post was as rightfully award-winning as it was heart-warming...how great it was to see you Dads out there!
However..."Domesticity" and its subtly hilarious and very real nod to the giving nature of neighbours (and figs)...worth a comment. X
Me too!
The idea of 'Fresh Figs' was sold to me during the fabulous anarchic Hickling Regatta weekend.
'We have FRESH FIGS for breakfast!' the announcement came with glee.
While you tucked into a slap up breakfast, just down the road, I suffered. ‘Not for me,’ sums it up. Had I not missed your departure by minutes, I would have slapped you around the face shouting ‘NEVER EAT FRESH FIGS’ and perhaps you would have thanked me for it.
Oh, the displeasure of a face that’s housing its first fresh fig.
Had I been a little younger and a little less English, I would have spat it out. I didn’t. One week later, I fear that fig poison lurks in a hidden corner of my intestine, emanating a subtle evil.
It should be illegal to promote the eating of fresh figs based on them coming anything close to tasty. They are a vitamin enriched laxative. Dried, fresh or window ripened... they are quite foul.
Oddly, some people claim to like them.
I feel a lifelong bond forming with you. Hope the renovation process is a delight to live with.
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