J..The Joys of Nutting

The chattering young mothers stood around the gate waiting for the
children to come out of school. Some held toddlers by the hand and
others had tiny babies in prams, rocking them to-and-fro to stop them
from crying.

Further away from the group of gossiping mums was another small group,
they were sheltering under a large chestnut tree. The leaves were
beginning to change to red and gold with the onset of autumn. The small
boy was kicking the crisp fallen leaves, searching for nuts. The wind
and rain had brought down the round green spiky shells that encased
them. Grandmother and grandson rolled them under their feet, splitting
open the cases, so as not to prick their fingers. The nuts popped out
of their green husks shining like burnished bronze. The boy squealed
with delight when he found more than one plump nut inside. When they
had half-filled a carrier bag, they put them in the baby's buggy and
made their way over the rough ground back to the gate, the boy kicking
the fallen leaves on the way. At the gate, one child asked her mother,
"Can we bring a bag tomorrow to collect nuts?" "No," replied the
mother," they're dirty, they have been on the ground, we will buy some
when we go shopping next time." Grandmother and grandson looked at each
other and gave a knowing smile and thought of the smell of roasting
chestnuts.

Suddenly a bell rang from within the school building and soon after the
children came tumbling out of the door. Laughing and shouting with
coats hastily pulled on, they ran down the path to the waiting adults.
The baby, asleep in her buggy, woke up with a start and began to cry.
Grandma hurried round the buggy to pacify and reassure her. The boy saw
his sister and ran to show her the chestnuts they had collected. They
went home, the children skipping along in happy anticipation of what
was to come.

When they got home and had taken off their coats and changed their
shoes, Grandma got a shovel she used to clean the fireplace, a large
sharp knife, some clean cloths and a newspaper and they all went into
the sitting room and sat down on the rug in front of the glowing fire.
Grandma chose some of the biggest, plumpest nuts from the bag and put a
small slit into their tough shiny shells. She then put them on the
shovel and carefully put the shovel on the fire and just to be on the
safe side, she put the fireguard in place as she didn't want anyone to
get burnt. The nuts popped and splattered and split open. The children
watched in delight. When they were cooked, grandmother gave a cloth to
each child and using the cloth herself took the shovel off the fire and
rested it in the hearth. Then still using the cloth, for they were very
hot, she popped a nut into each of the children's cloths. They squeezed
their hands together making the now blackened shells crunch open and
then rubbed the brown skins away letting the crumbs fall down onto the
newspaper. Inside was the most delicious smelling creamy white nut
which they had to blow on until they were cool enough to pick up with
their fingers and pop into their mouths. While they ate, they happily
watched the next lot of nuts cooking on the fire. It was a wonderful
way to warm up after their walk home from school on a cold damp autumn
day.