Life is just a bowl . .

I noticed a pleasant photo of cherries on the Beeb today which threw me back to childhood when we were living in a house with quite a large garden in Germany, which I gather had been commandeered from a SS officer. It was quite nice but on occasion big aggressive looking ex-German army men would hang about outside muttering and looking rather menacing, although in fact we were never directly threatened. Just in case though we did get a large German shepherd, which managed to knock me over regularly when wagging its tail!

This house had a few different types of cherry tree in the gardens, a yellowish one and two rather solidly red. Both types were delicious although my recollection is that the yellow were rather more tart. Maybe that explains why I still like sharp or sour tastes even today. At least we were lucky enough that they did grow in the garden and not as shown above, which to my mind is just a shade over the top! But I wonder if the regular bowls that were available each year led me to have a future that contained two good marriages and in many ways has seemed like a bowl of cherries for much of the time.

The one unfortunate thing is that they are hardly a Philippine fruit so while I may be able to indulge in many good things from our own farm I suspect that cherries will not be included.

Never mind, my memories of the taste and immense size are probably flawed anyway, but I do seem to remember my mother looking like this when the season came round again.

Or is this a generic memory of Eve?