Hurahura raspberry jam

There were a number of things that drew me to Hurahura, and one of them is tucked behind the sleepout, nestled between the carport and the citrus trees: our raspberry patch. 

I had no idea that kiwi gardens could include crops like raspberries, and when we first viewed the property I suspected that it was a fanciful folly rather than a going concern.

Last year, after we'd cleared out the overgrown patch in October, a few spindly canes remained which produced a surprisingly good crop in November/December. We ate raspberry shortbread and I froze a couple of kilos of berries. In autumn, I consulted the worldwide web on pruning and cut out the canes that had borne fruit. 

This year we are having a bumper crop. I started picking a few weeks ago and my daily yield has been steadily increasing. Today I picked a kilo of berries! Mila sits in her high chair in the shade of the apple tree while I pick. I think I need to think about introducing some sort of order to the patch as getting into the middle is perilous and I am covered in scratches.

What to do with all these berries? I've made a Victoria sponge (beat 200g butter, 200g sugar, 200g SR flour and four eggs for five minutes, put into two lined tins and bake at 190C for 20 minutes) a couple of times, and the Little & Friday donuts, and Smitten Kitchen's breakfast bars. And I've been freezing the overflow and am running out of room in the freezer. I'd been resisting jam as raspberry is not my favourite - I prefer plum, blackberry, boysenberry and blueberry. But I relented today and after tasting it, I've revised my position. It is delicious. And I only used half my pickings for the day and got four jars.

4 cups mashed raspberries
4 cups sugar

Bring raspberries to a rolling boil in a large heavy pot. Boil for two minutes. Add sugar and return to the boil. Boil for two minutes, stirring throughout. Remove from the heat and beat with a handheld beater for four minutes. Decant into sterilised jars and seal.

Papa was a rolling stone

Three to six months were a bit of a blur. Our wonderful sleep-through-the-night A-grade baby turned everything upside down and was waking at all hours from the three-month mark. Mama was a zombie. Excuse me. I blame this third-person talk on the lack of sleep. Matt has no such excuse. We had an old friend down to visit last weekend and Matt kept referring to himself as "Daddy". As in, "Daddy wants a beer now, yes he does!". I'll understand if you just did a mini-vom in your mouth. I digress. Back to the fascinating topic of new parents' lack of sleep... ...Ahem, perhaps I should leave that with the third person Mama talk, in the same place as detailed analysis of Mila's nappies (it's like reading tea leaves, I swear).

Almost like clockwork, Mila hit six months and started sleeping through the night again. And bang on six months, Mila spent her first night away from us. She stayed at her Nanny's overnight while we ventured out for wine and food. It was wonderful. We started with wine tasting on the harbour. I'm afraid that it was a bit of a case of "Goddamn! That's the best cracker I ever ate in my life" on the wine front. We got talking to the people seated next to us and when they were discussing the wine, comparing the various samples, and opining on its quality, all I could do was grin like a goon and think that it all tasted like ambrosia to me.

The occasion warranted a photo

We walked along the river at sunset and drank Champagne with dinner. Aglow with the flush of wine and independence, I smiled and told Matt how nice it was to be out with him. He gave me a slightly bemused look, pointed at my chest and said: "You're leaking".

Exhausted from her all-nighter with Nanny