Damson gin

C is making damson gin and wants to know if we have a demijohn left over from the '70s when we made homemade wine from elderflowers, magotty apples etc.

After a foray into the cellar I eventually find one under the shelving at the back of the table, hidden by carpet offcuts from the good old days when we used to have carpets.

"The good news is we do have a demijohn. The bad news is - there's something in it".

"Urrgh! Not a frog?!" C exclaims. Nope, not a frog nor any other kind of subterranean creature. What is in the jar is liquid.

I rinse the sealed jar under the tap to dislodge several years worth of cellar grime, remove the stopper, and we each sniff - we agree that the contents smell vaguely alcoholic.

I decant a small amount into a glass and we take turns to warily taste the ruby coloured liquid. "Cough mixture" delares C. The best description I can come up with is "Not right".

By mutual agreement we pour the contents into the kitchen sink. The fluid, perhaps a litre or so, is followed by perhaps three dozen damsons.

"How long has that been down there?!" we ask each other.

...which rather sums us up. Although as individuals we are reasonably reliable (well one of is, anyway), as a couple credit card bills, undeposited cheques, parking fines etc MUST stay in full view until dealt with. It is also why we should NEVER be allowed to take on the responsibility for ongoing projects such as pets, all but the most hardy of house plants, raising offspring etc.

The current batch of damson gin is staying right where it is - firmly in the way on the kichen worktop.