While we were in Hamilton we visited our house as the tenants had moved out.

In the garden was a Feijoa tree full of fruit, too tempting to leave to rot so we picked the fruit off the ground and then shook the tree to get some more.

If we didn’t they would only go to waste, or god forbid the new tenants would eat them.

Now back in Wellington it is my job to preserve as many as possible as there are far too many to eat before they rot. So I am having to remove the pulp ready to freeze in syrup and this is how it went.

One Feijoa for the bowl, one for me.

Two Feijoas for the bowl, two for me.

Three Feijoas for the bowl, three for me.

Four Feijoas for the bowl, four for queezy me.

Five Feijoas for the bowl, five for me, how many left I’m not feeling too well.

Six Feijoas for the bowl, I’m not too sure if I can finish them all.

Seven Feijoas for the bowl, who the heck likes these blooming things.

Eight Feijoas for the bowl, Wish I’d never seen a Feijoa.

Nine Fejoas for the bowl, I’m sure these are the devils fruit.

Ten Fejoas for the bowl, Jo can do her own Fejoas next year.