An unexpected gift, from an elderly gent on the bus, to my smiling little 'un. Not having heard the name before, she insisted on calling it a "person".
My Mum has a treeful at home -- which means that we will soon have an oversupply -- but not wishing to seem ungracious, we thanked the chap and smiled and waved as he alighted.
It is hard, at present, and inedible. It needs some quiet time in a dark cupboard in order to soften. Then it will be almost obscenely lush and rather nice on toast. Or perhaps the vital ingredient for a surprise pana cotta.
Until then, my little 'un likes to peer into the pantry to see how her "person" is going. She has also taken to experimenting with kisses, starting out with hard loud smooches banging on my cheek and proclaiming "That wasn't a nice one!" then getting progressively gentler until they are so delicate as to be angelic. When I sigh and smile and thank her for such a beautiful kiss, she looks at me earnestly and says, "Would you like to cry now?".
In the warm darkness of this golden season, another person is starting to soften.