Sloe Progress

Photo © Rob Jones

Watch the eyes …

The sun came out for a couple of hours and after a morning in front of the computer, I decided to take a walk up towards Moel Eilio and back.

En route I came across a party of hang-gliders beginning their wearisome way to the top of the hill with their heavily laden back packs. There was an advanced guard striding purposefully ahead, eager to get the adrenalin buzz from leaping off a mountain attached to a large hanky.

But I noticed one of their number was lagging behind. At one point I had to stand aside, and hold a gate open for him to come through. But he was dawdling. He made a cursory nod of thanks in my direction, but his eyes were elsewhere. Not on the skies assessing conditions, or the mountain weighing up the challenge, but on a bush by the side of the path.

Reluctantly he passed, but kept looking back nervously.

I know that look.

After he had turned the corner, I doubled back quickly to see what he had spotted.

It was an absolute treasure trove of Sloes.

I played it cool. Finished my walk. Watched the hang-gliders stepping one by one into oblivion. Then ran back to the bush to fill my bobble-hat with 500g of wonderfully plump, ripe sloes.

Trophy brought home, washed and into the freezer overnight to make them a little slushy.

Next day, prick them through with a fork, and place them into an airtight jar with 70cl of cheap gin and 250g of castor sugar. Shake well.

Put it away somewhere - once a week giving it another shake.

It’s a slow process (pun intended). It’ll be ready by Christmas.

RJ