Getting in a Pickle

Plums. Everywhere. Hanging off the branches of the tree like a gazillion bunches of grapes, staring at me accusingly as some of their siblings start to decay: "Oh please not like this, don't let us end our lives like this", they cry, "The horror! The senseless waste of it all!" Tonight I answered their call. I have turned many of them into jam, bright purple jars of the stuff, and others have been reincarnated as plum dipping sauce while the remainder have been transformed, as if by magic, into compote. The cycle of life continues in its own small but tasty way.

As I magically transform fruit into bright jars of jam and sauce, Jamie types away upstairs, transforming his very clever thoughts into a computer file that will in turn be transformed into a book. I spread jam, as he spreads knowledge, you see.

This is what happens when one can't afford a television, my friends. Small miracles get performed!