Instead of prattling on about “prune” being the season’s hot color as I did a few months ago, simultaneously pointing out that prunes for “them” are plums for “us,” but never mind.
The basket on table in our gazebo (back to that in a moment) is just one of the dozens of heaping baskets of the hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of plums our sweet little four-year-old tree offered up this year.
This afternoon I’m planning on making a compote with as many as I can get into my huge pot and later watch a friend make a tart with my delivery chez elle. (I’m eating one as I type this — a plum, not a tart. . .)
The other shot is a very bad picture of the gazebo — it’s much prettier than it looks here, the wood is a lovely, natural gray/blue. I’ll take a better one another time, but just wanted you to have a glimpse of it because it’s the best present I’ve every received.
I’ had been dreaming about it forever and a few years ago when I was working in New York for three months my Reason-for-Living-in-France designed and had it made for me as a surprise birthday present. It’s an octagon, features electricity, canvas shades when needed and makes me happy every day, even in the winter when I look out the window. But he didn’t stop there he also had a huge round piece of heavy plywood cut to put on the table when we have big dinner parties. To camouflage the offending circle I had a tablecloth made in a heavy beige linen that gently breaks as it hits the floor.
A demain with the next week’s line-up.