Interesting things arrived in the post this past week. First, some owls turned up — they didn’t say so, but I think they might have flown across the water from St Andrews (thankyou, Kristin!). Then a package appeared from Japan containing several Kit-Kats, all lurid packaging and intriguing flavours. None of the fabled green ones this time, but the ‘serving suggestion’ shot on one wrapper suggests its contents might taste of roast potato – surely not?! I shall report back later…
(Thanks, Titch. But what is it?)
Most excitingly, though, we just received a letter from Edinburgh Council letting us know that an allotment has become available. Hurrah!
We live on the second floor of a typical Edinburgh Victorian tenement. We share a tiny strip of garden known here as a ‘drying green’, and that is mostly what it is. Our neighbours are brilliant, but I know they’d be none too keen on Tom and I occupying the pleasant space in which they hang their washing with raised beds or (O dream of dreams) poultry. We’ve been on the allotment waiting list since we moved in four years ago. The prized plots can be glimpsed from our flat, less than half a mile away at the back of the field where the Boys Brigade play football. I walk past them every day, and they are a source of both delight and longing. They look wonderful in all seasons, weathers, lights, and their irregular geography — formed from separate and collective endeavours of growing and making and building — is a great public use of space. To me, allotments are cathedrals.
Our plot is there! And Spring is here! We need to get our skates on.
I received another letter last week. It began “Dear Yorkshire Tea Drinker,” which is a fine way to begin . . .
. . . but the letter continued by announcing the end of the token collecting scheme. Horrors! Well, you know what I’m like with those tokens. Apparently, the scheme is going to be replaced by a process in which you can become ‘a friend of Yorkshire Tea’ and join ‘an online family of like-minded tea-lovers.’ This sounds great to me, but I’m sure you understand how sad I was to hear of the tokens’ demise. Those torn and tea-dusted bits of cardboard have such a pleasing materiality. They bear testimony to so many happy hours of tea drinking. And all the Yorkshire-Tea treats for which I’ve exchanged ’em over the years are such a rewarding embodiment of the many, many robust and refreshing pints of Yorkshire-Tea I have consumed.
(tea-tokens. The end of an era).
To be frank, I had collected everything in the ‘gift’ catalogue anyway (except for the Yorkshire tea tonka-toy, which did not speak to me). When I returned my last batch of tokens, I also wrote suggesting the addition of an *enormous* mug to the range (which would suit my personal tea-drinking habits), but I suppose I may live in hope that such an item may one day become available through the promised ‘online family.’ I often find that I am carrying a Yorkshire tea-token about my person, and perhaps I shall preserve those that remain, keeping them forever with me in a talismanic way. But to any other token-obsessives out there: you’ve only got till June to collect enough for that jolly orange teapot that you simply know you need. . .
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