Story telling from Australia
Young people don’t tut, have you noticed? It’s left to those of us who are more mature, more judgemental.
There’s been a fair amount of ‘tutting’ in our house recently, especially when a bulk order of books arrives. It’s not the books or the box, and neither is it the speed of delivery – all exemplary – it’s what’s inside the box that gets my tongue clicking.
Hundreds of small white pellets, crammed inside each box, are usually added to prevent damage and cushion the impact of any knocks. I tut every time. I save what pellets I can for later use and discard the rest, pouring them into the recycling bin as I drag Maggie away. She insists on trying to eat the pellets and I’ve never understood why. What could be so tasty about plastic pellets?
Then an unexpected gift of homemade fig jam arrived, and the mystery was finally solved.
The fig and almond jam – which was delicious by the way – was sent from a friend in South Australia. The glass jar arrived by post, ingeniously tucked inside a metal carton, and it was cushioned by a handful of those same small white pellets.
At the end of the accompanying letter the author suggested I might like to add the pellets to my compost. ‘They’re made of wheat.’
I had to read that sentence twice. Wheat? I’ve been throwing those pellets into the plastic recycling bin. I’ve dragged Maggie away every time she tried to eat them, convinced she was about to poison herself, and all the time she could have been enjoying a tasty snack.
I’ve also tutted way too much.
Still dubious, I threw a few of the pellets into my kitchen compost bin then I watched them gradually disintegrate and disappear.
So thank you Lynne, not only for the gift of delicious fig jam but also for solving the mystery….and for substantially reducing the amount of unnecessary tutting that goes on in our house.