My thyme doth creep - how does your thyme do?



The thyme in question

This could be an opportunity for me to divert to a discussion of the nature of time, of different types of time, the present time, the past time, future time, the future end time, but I will resist because sometimes resistance is not as futile as a discussion of time might be.  Surely the moment is all?  In any event I doubt whether old Father Chronos will be altered one whit by any musings of mine.  Also, this is the thyme that creeps, rather than being creepy (this isn't the Day of the Thyme Triffids you know) and is really rather delicious, as is the thyme that doesn't creep.



Stationary thyme

Then there's the lush marjoram, which made an earlier appearance in naked (until dressed) broad bean and pea salad accessorised with feta and the herb.  Incidentally, the only reason I keep on referring to the nudity of the broad beans is that Richard was most insistent that I pointed out that he had lovingly skinned each and every one, individually, in a stage of preparation which I missed being in the custody of South West Trains.  Now, I know that no-one who reads this blog would dream of serving a broad bean with its overcoat still on, but Richard's wish is my command.

Lush Marjoram

And here's some parsley - for no particular reason unless it's to show what fab gardeners Gerry and Richard are - and I think Gerry has taken first prize for his herbs at the village show for the past x years running.  The luxury of being able to pop outside and snip what you like to add flavour and savour.  Having said that, I know a certain person in Peckham who has worked wonders on a very small balcony!



I just thought that after lunch you might appreciate some green stuff just to lighten things a bit before we move on to supper.