The most perfect apples and plums picked in a little orchard by the Thames in North Stoke on 20 September 2013

What a bountiful year for fruit. Country people with fruit bushes and trees in their gardens are begging those of us not so fortunate to go round at any time and pick until the point of exhaustion. Failing that they leave baskets of fruit by the wayside for passers by to take for free. We were invited to pick the apples and fruit (shown above) in a little orchard by the Thames. Made greedy by their perfect condition and ridiculously pretty colour, we got completely carried away and ended up with far too much for puddings and pies for the Harvest Supper, especially as I knew a couple of apple crumbles and a blackberry and apple cobbler would be appearing.  (Incidentally, there are two full trays beneath those pictured above – one full of apples and one of plums.) An afternoon of stewing plums (in red wine and vanilla) and apples (in what remained of last year’s elderflower cordial) made the vicarage smell like a jam factory and left us with enough stewed fruit to have with Greek yoghurt on Sunday as well as pots galore for the freezer. 

Apple of unknown variety

Daughter no.3 appeared and was great help preparing 3 shepherd’s pies (1 giant sized and 2 large). I always like to have plenty of food for guests as you never know how many people will come back after the harvest festival. As parishioners brought another shepherd’s pie (lamb) and a cottage pie (beef) we had more than enough food – but better that way than having too little. We also made chocolate brownies swirled with blueberry mascapone and little plum frangipane tarts  and both these little things were good as we could give them to  people to take back to elderly or infirm relatives who couldn’t join us. I’m not very good remembering about wine so we were very grateful that one couple brought a box of six bottles, (along with sufficient glasses) and  the emeritus church warden brought another couple of bottles – more than enough – especially as many do have to drive home in the country where dark really means dark and country roads  are pitted with pot holes the size of small garden ponds. The vicarage made a definite gain on the alcohol front – I have offered it back but have been pressed to keep it. Jolly good.

Beautiful unblemished luscious apples

Aside from the cooking, Saturday was a rush with a wedding. We weren’t sure whether there were going to be any flowers in the church for the wedding as the couple didn’t have much money to spend. My husband mentioned this to those who were arranging flowers at his other church and so horrified were they at a wedding without flowers that they immediately picked up a couple of the harvest festival arrangements and took them over to the sister church. But we weren’t  the only ones in a rush. The harvest itself was not quite all gathered in. For a week or so we had been commenting on a bright red combine stationary in a far field as we looked out of the vicarage window. Visitors joked that it looked like an abandoned Wendy house or a mechanical circus elephant (the grain shoot being the trunk) ditched in the field. In fact, if we’d looked a little more observantly, we’d have noticed the field was only half harvested and that, putting 2 and 2 together, it was most likely that the combine hadn’t moved because it had broken down.  And this was no ordinary field but a prize winner, having grown the best barley in the area at the Henley Show a couple of years ago. Harvesting resumed the day of the harvest festival. The farmer finished harvesting, dashed home to get clean and put a suit on only to make a dramatic, though jovial and genial entry into the service half way through the second hymn. It all seemed very appropriate. 

Another pretty apple

Children at the village nursery had been growing their own vegetables and these took centre stage along with the bread also baked locally; the not so attractive ‘Readifood’ box in which food is collected for distribution in Reading was swopped for a basket. Flowers, a glorious combination of burnt orange, red and gold (the two arrangements taken to the wedding had returned) looked at their loveliest in the light of the setting sun. Local children enacted a song about putting food into a shopping trolley and our ad hoc choir did a reprise of the anthem from last year (Greene’s ‘Thou visitest the earth’ ) which was only possible for some of us as a result of repeated visits to YouTube and singing along with New College choir until family members begged us to stop. Just under 60 people came to the service and 40 of these came back to the vicarage for supper. I had meant to photograph the fruit, flowers, bread, pies and puddings, but when push came to shove, I completely forgot all about the camera. The vicarage began to empty for the first episode of the new series of Downton Abbey at 9 o’clock and the vicarage contingent were quite happy to suspend their critical faculties and sit in front of it ourselves.