Overcast all day, but dry. Pancakes for breakfast. Hilary popped around with a bag of tiny black grapes she harvested from the prolific vine which is a feature of the Robin Hood pub, which shares a boundary wall with the church. Clare wants to have a go at making grape and apple jelly. In the bag as well were several cooking apples. Hilary's appearance reminded me that I've not yet harvested the rest of the crab apples on the church yard tree, which has successfully survived transplantation from the Rectory garden.
I went to St Catherine's straightaway to collect the crop, and was surprised to find the building open, and full of worshippers clad in white garments whose borders are decorated with banks of red gold and green. the Eritrean Orthodox church community diaspora, with the sound of sacred chant in the ancient Coptic tradition coming from the sanctuary within. The community gathers at Michaelmass each year for a long prayer vigil. In previous years they have been in St German's, but this year was not possible due to an afternoon concert there, so the gathering has come to St Catherine's instead.
Canton parish churches host several expatriate congregations; St Luke's welcomes weekly a Romanian Orthodox congregation, Serbian Orthodox in Eastertide, and St John's hosts a monthly Adventist prayer vigil on a Saturday, part of an African Adventist mission to ex-pats in the UK. The Russian Orthodox Exarchate congregation worshipped at St John's during covid, but has returned to the Nazareth House chapel in Cathays since then.
Anyway, I stripped the crab apple tree of fruit, except for a couple of top branches which I left for birds and squirrels, a pound and a quarter. I returned, chopped them up and stripped them of stalks ready for cooking. While I was out, Clare had stripped the grapes of stalks, and they all went into the preserving pan together, to simmer for a couple of hours. I cooked a veggie dish with Canelli beans and Quinoa for our lunch.
Clare cleaned the yard while I cooked and noticed the drain outside the kitchen was full of leaves and caked silt. Most she managed to scoop out. I dislodged the rest with a high pressure hose, all except a mass of white stuff clinging to the side of the drain, which needed chipping off. Chunks of it floated, but could be flushed away with persistence. It's congealed fat accumulated over years un-noticed. We're pretty careful about not disposing of oily residues down the sink, wiping the frying pan with kitchen roll paper, adding it to the food waste bin, but traces of fat over time, leaving the sink drainpipe and flowing into an external drain exposed to the elements not going directly into the sewer will cause problems eventually. At least our domestic fatberg hasn't blocked the drain. To be sure it doesn't, I poured a few ounces of caustic soda crystals down the drain, and left it to work for a couple of hours.
After we'd eaten, I set about bread making, in order to bake a small loaf to take with me on my visit to sister June tomorrow. The dough rose well, and I was able to put it in the baking tins for the final rising before going to Tesco's to but Welsh cakes for her as well, but they didn't have any. Fortunately Iceland nearby did have some in stock, and at a reasonable price.
There must have been a football match going on in Leckwith stadium, as roads were congested and loudly amplified voices, and the sound of a cheering crowd competed with the noise of cars at Canton Cross. On approaching, I thought the noise emanated from one of the neighbourhood pubs, hosting World Cup Rugby on their giant TV screens until I could hear that the sound reverberated far and wide not just from particular buildings.
The bread was ready for the over by the time I got back, and turned out to my satisfaction, blessing the house with its aroma. The stewed grape and crab apple mix was ready for straining and Clare got out the straining bag, filled it with the mixture and mounted it on the rungs of an upside down stool so it could drip into a large bowl overnight. The preserving pan had acquired a layer of carbonised fruit skin, and took a long time to scrape off and bring the surface to a shine again with a brillo pad.
After supper, I spent the entire evening watching episodes of a new series on Walter Presents called 'The Bank Hacker' taking advantage of a relaxing weekend free of duties.
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