Figs are one of my favourite foods. Honestly, I wish I would be buried in a huge mountain of them, so I could eat myself a little fig cave, and live inside there for a while.
I’m not too super keen on dried or preserved figs though, just the sweet, juicy, splitting open, just picked off the tree kind.
So you can imagine my delight to see that my sister had slipped a note under my door – written on the back of our gas bill.
These are the first figs I have eaten this season, and I have been waiting all year for them to arrive.
They came to us from John, an elderly greek gentleman who lives down the road from my nephews’ pappou; all wrapped like something precious in aluminium foil.
God bless you Mr. John Sir. Thank you for making my day!
In other news, sorry for my lack-age of daily posts! My gorgeous mother was visiting from Brisbane, and I was too busy having adventures with her! (By adventures I mean, manicures, coffee, croissants, shopping, trips to the beach… you know, the usual.)
I am very pleased to say that I am still keeping up with my project 366, and haven’t missed a daily photo yet! I will keep working to catch up with all my posts over the next couple of days.
Be prepared for a posting frenzy!