Today I labelled up three jars of damson chutney, made with the small, sweet fruit of our damson tree. It's the first year it's been mature enough to give us more than a dozen or so damsons, but has made up for the delay by loading its tall, upright branches with purple fruits that we have shaken down, kilo after kilo. The first lot went towards a crumble, tart and delicious. We'll give the chutney away at Christmas - and eat some ourselves.
The tomatoes are starting to ripen, too - as usual, too late for the salad season. Six plants will now yield more than we can eat, after months of having to buy them. But we'll make passata, and freeze it, and in the winter we'll have pasta dishes infused with a whole summer's sweetness.
We've got chillies, too, full of vitamin C and fire, and lemons in the porch, and herbs, of course. And we've had blackberries from the common, for crumble and a sweet coulis that's perfect on porridge. There really is nothing like food you've grown - or pilfered - yourself.