Six years ago, my husband and I bought a cosy cottage in the English countryside. We took pride in renovating
Dandelion Jam
Winter’s blanket of snow finally melted, leaving behind a softness that made spring’s arrival all the more welcome. The town was waking up—you could tell by the bustle at the market and the cheerful flutter of birds outside windows. Taissia, a long-time resident of her old block of flats, watched from the third floor, eager for sunshiny days, the riot of colour, and the freedom from heavy coats.
Spring suited Taissia. She lived with her granddaughter, Vera, ever since Vera’s parents left for a doctor’s contract in Africa: “We trust you with our little Vera. She’s happier with you, Mum.” Taissia had laughed, promising to make the most of retirement with her sprightly granddaughter.
The day unfolded with its familiar rhythm: breakfast, school, chores. Outside, her neighbours had already claimed the bench beneath the budding trees—Mrs Simmons, whose real age was as mysterious as her sharp wit, and Valentine, the loud, joyous bookworm, always in friendly opposition to Simmons’s grumbling. The bench was never empty once the sun came out, and these two were its loyal sentinels, keeping an eye on everyone and everything.
Taissia sometimes joined in, gossiping about what she’d read, sharing news from TV, enduring Simmons’s health complaints. But today she popped to the shops, promising Vera a sweet treat for good marks.
After school, Vera practised her dance moves, which made Taissia beam with pride. In the evening, she waited for Vera outside, joined by their neighbour, Mr George Elliot from downstairs, who always greeted the spring with a poet’s soul, likening the golden dandelions to tiny suns. Vera, ever the bundle of energy, startled her grandmother with mischief, and Taissia gathered her up for dinner—grated carrots sugared just right and her favourite homemade cutlets.
George lingered too, tempted by the mention of cutlets, and hinted at a walk later. By and by, Taissia found herself back on the bench with George, sharing quiet moments now that Simmons and Valentine had retired for the evening. These gentle evenings became habit, strolling to the nearby park, reading magazines, exchanging life stories and recipes.
George’s life had not been easy. Widowed young, he raised his daughter, Vera, alone, working late into every night. Vera grew up, moved away, married, had a son, then divorced and raised her boy alone. Visits became rare and strained.
One afternoon, George shared news—Vera was coming. Taissia was optimistic, but George doubted: “She wants something, I’m sure.” Vera arrived, all business. She pressed George to sell his flat and move in with her, sharing space with her and her son—a practical solution, but George recoiled, preferring his independent, familiar staple of life.
Vera, relentless, learned of her father’s friendship with Taissia and visited, tea and sweets on offer. But her words cut sharp: “Convince him to sell the flat, it’s wasted on one old man. Surely you’re not after it for yourself or your granddaughter?” Accusations flew, harsh words rang out, and Vera stormed away.
Taissia was mortified, worried what the neighbours must have heard. For days, she avoided George, ducking inside when she saw him. Yet, as fate would have it, she met George outside the building, making dandelion chains.
“Don’t run off,” he pleaded, offering her the half-finished chain. “Sorry for my daughter. I’ve spoken to her—she’s left, and says she has no father now. But I wanted to give you this. I’ve made dandelion jam. It’s delicious—and healthy too,” he smiled, “and dandelion makes a fine salad.”
That evening they shared dandelion salad and tea with spoonfuls of his homemade jam. Taissia loved it. Later, they walked together under their favourite linden tree, magazine in hand, laughter rising softly into the spring air.
It was just the two of them, their worries forgotten, sharing stories and sweet dandelion jam.
Thank you for reading, subscribing, and supporting me. Wishing you all the best in life! Dandelion Jam The snowy English winter finally drew to a close. It hadnt been particularly harsh this
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There Were Women’s Clothes Scattered on the Floor and When I Walked Into the Bedroom I Found Him With Another Woman…
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